^91 ^5 o ► 3>> W .4~ 8^ 'Z>3>»J>> 3 )J fia jcTJ^, l^p a ,lf DUGALD STEWART. / By J. SLADE, M.D. F.G.S. M.P.S.L. LATELY PHYSICIAN TO TWO INFIRMARIES ; AUTHOR OF " LETTERS ON PHRENOLOGY, OR THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE BRAIN" — "A TREATISE ON OPHTHALMIA," &C &C. LONDON : PARBURY & Co., No. 8, LEADENHALL STREET. 1838. Vv S. M'Dowall, Printer, Leaden hall Street- I ADVERTISEMENT. It may be necessary to offer some excuse for the following Dedication. With the exception of one individual, I have received from every person there mentioned such civilities, and from some, such very marked proofs of friendship, as to leave me the pleasing task of acknowledging them in this manner, which is gratifying to every Author, and deemed one of the strongest proofs of sincerity he can give, and of the obligation he conceives him- self to be under. I reserve other names for a second Volume, which will be published in case of this succeeding. The Author. A 2 DEDICATION. The first Colloquy is dedicated to the Rev. CHARLES KEKEWICK, A. M. The second to the Rsr. MATTHEW MUNDY, A.M. The third to LADY MARY SHEPHERD. The fourth to LIEUTENANT FREDERICK SLADE, R. N. The fifth to ROBERT HERRIES, Esq. VI. DEDICATION. The sixth to Sir MATTHEW JOHN TIERNEY, Bart., M. D. The seventh to WILLIAM SLADE, Esq. Doctors' Commons. The eighth to WILLIAM BOWLES, Esq., F.L.S. F.G.S. F.H.S. The ninth to MISS MARY RUSSELL MITFORD. The tenth to Dr. ELLIOTSON, M.D. F.R.S. President of the Phrenological Society. The eleventh to the Rev. JAMES YATES, A. M. F. L. S. F. G. S. The twelfth to JOHN SWEETLAND, Esq. DEDICATION. The thirteenth to GEORGE DALE COLLINSON, Esq., A. M. Barrister at Law. The fourteenth to GENERAL SIR JOHN SLADE, Bart. The fifteenth to EDWARD GRESLEY STONE, Esq. Coptfold Hall. And the Appendix on Phrenology and Fatalism to Mrs. COLONEL TUFNELL. CONTENTS. COLLOQUY I. Page Sublimity and beauty — Valley of Lynmouth — Petrarch and Laura — Vancluse — Alhambra — Spring and Autumn — Genii of a fairy land — Ghost of Stewart — fear of the Phrenologist — Phrenology — allusion to Paradise — friendly warning and disappearance of the Professor ... 1 COLLOQUY II. Valley of Rocks at Lynton — Bristol Channel and Welch Coast — Danish Encampment — Keith and Buckingham — the fastidiousness of concealing errors — Dr. Taylor and Johnson — dream of Linnaeus — views of Lucan — authority of Reason — virtue and vice — object of the Deity in creating man — Stewart's objection and assent to phrenology — opinion and talents of Combe — pre- judices against phrenology — Phrenologist's conversion — inconsistencies of antiplirenologists— the genius of Gall — Elliotson's opinion of him , 21 COLLOQUY III. Advantages of emulation — ages of literature — superiority of phrenology over other mental doctrines — nature of mind — organs of the brain — Bishop Berkeley's opinion — permanency and universality of the mental faculties.. 44 * b Xll- CONTENTS. Page COLLOQUY XI. Developments of different races of men — progress and fall of nations — natural state of man — divisions of the human family by Blumenbach — views of Lawrence, Pritchard, and Turner 211 \ COLLOQUY XII. Spring — reminiscences — a savage's notion of death — soul derived from God, and not destructible — resurrection — infidelity — Dryden — state of the mind in Paradise — reason and religion often opposed — immortality of fame — evil of possessing great talents without religion — Spenser — Paradise — ministering spirits — Christ the only Mediator . . . 238 COLLOQUY XIII. Animal propensities — moral sentiments — intellectual facul- ties 257 COLLOQUY XIV. Teignmouth and its suburbs — calmness of morning — sere- nity of thoughts — nature and art — Dawlish and its inhabitants — pride — Lord Exmouth — naval men — Scio — Dr. Clarke — bay-tree — poet laureat — Greeks and Romans — unhealthiness of Teignmouth — beauty and pleasure — account of Hebe — loneliness and darkness — Johnson — Euphrasia — Grecian daughter — thinking a disease — development of Hebe — organ of gaiety — mind — fatigue and repose — opinion of an antiphrenologist . . 28 CONTENTS. X11I. Page COLLOQUY XV. Phrenology and legislation — Ideality — the pleasure expe- rienced by this faculty — Addison — Dr. T. Brown — Lord Kaimes — the Ancients — Shakspeare — the Scandi- navian— Ossian — Macpherson, Blair — Scripture language poetical — poetic feeling — Pope and Byron — character of poets — genius 305 APPENDIX. Phrenology and fatalism — nature of man — visitations of God — religion independent of organization — conscience — Phrenology in accordance with nature — ascendancy of evil — will and propensity. ADDRESS TO THE READER. A colloquial style of writing is of ancient authority. Among the moderns we are indebted to Landor and Southey in particular for imaginary conversations. To the colloquies between Sir Thomas More and Montesino, written by the latter,, I owe the idea of composing the present work. The Dialogues of Hyla and Philoneus which appeared in the year 1713, and which had reference to the connection between mind and matter, were sought after eagerly by the mentalists of the day. These dialogues purported to shew that matter had no real existence — that whatever appeared tangible was only so in sensation or idea, communicated by the Deity agreeably to certain laws, called laws of nature. A false doctrine ! and one which Bishop Berkeley assiduously strove to inculcate. XVI. ADDRESS TO THE READER. My object in selecting Stewart as the imaginary conversationalist, is not to discuss the propriety of his doctrines in detail, which would lead me into abstrusities of no general interest nor utility, but because he occupied a prominent station in metaphysical literature and moral philosophy, and because he was an opponent to Phrenology, and one of that nation among whom the science has especially flourished. If, indeed, I had followed him through the perplexing and intricate labyrinth of metaphysics and morals, my labour would have been in vain, for no one would have read my work. I use him as a vehicle to convey my own notions, having yet carefully avoided putting words into his mouth which he might, were he alive, disclaim, or be able, with reason and force, to disprove. To have done otherwise would have been placing him in an invidious light — a position he would not deserve. Looking upon him as a man of sound judgment, and affecting no singularities of opinion contrary to the views which nations in all ages have entertained, and which, directly or indirectly, bear upon Phreno- logy, I have not hesitated to make him a participator in their common sentiments — a recogniser or sup- porter of principles, the truth of which it would be pedantic and unwise to question. ADDRESS TO THE READER. XV11. I avail myself of this opportunity to mention that an objection has been made to Stewart giving his assent to one of the fundamental principles of Phre- nology so early as his second interview, and at a period when no arguments had been used sufficiently forcible, strong, or persuasive to convert a sceptic. But was he sceptical here ? He could not have been so reasonably. To exempt myself, however, at all times, from inconsistencies, in the attempt to sustain a character of so singular a kind, would be impossi- ble. Latitude must be given an author, when fancy and imagination are on the wing, and particularly when the imaginative channel is merely used as a medium for the development of something rational and definable. My object must not be overlooked in introducing the spirit of the great philosopher. It is simply to render the subject of Phrenology more attractive to the general reader. For the same reason, I have been somewhat episodical in the course of conversation, being far from believing that the digressions of a pen, which touch upon interest- ing facts and instructive systems, will be ill received. The poet is allowed his episode; and I see no reason why the prosaist, who aims at the advancement of any one particular branch of science, should not enjoy the same privilege. Such digressions, however, as XV1U. ADDRESS TO THE READER. may break the thread of the discourse abruptly,, can be advocated by no precedent. I have endeavoured to avoid this, though not always successfully ; and have usually excluded such digressions as may be entirely foreign to the main object in view. One great defect may be seen running through these Colloquies — it is that they are not sufficiently disputative. In this I have found much difficulty. So perfect a being as a paradisiacal spirit could not be supposed to advance any thing radically erroneous; and if irreconcilable differences of opinion existed, the Phrenologist only could be in error, and he is not anxious to take this position. While the critic is disposed to condemn me on account of the extravagances he may behold, parti- cularly in the first Colloquy, I crave indulgence, not only in consequence of the difficulties which have presented themselves, but in consideration of the laudable design I have had in view, which is to con- vey, through an attractive medium — fiction, useful information, to censure abuses, to inculcate virtue, to engender proper notions of religion, and to clear away those encumbrances and quackeries in Phreno- logy which prevent the science being familiarized ADDRESS TO THE READER. XIX. to the public mind. Religious instruction should be the ultimate, when not the first, object of all research and all writing: and where can we find a fitter channel to convey probity and piety than through a disquisition on mind, and its connection with matter? Philosophy, says Abercrombie, fails of its noblest object if it does not lead us to God ; and whatever may be its pretensions, that is unworthy the name of science, which professes to trace the sequences of nature, and yet fails to discover, as if marked by a sunbeam, the mighty hand which arranged them all. I have pursued a track which my own genius, such as it is, prompted me to follow. Some parts of it may be found barren, dry, and uninteresting ; but man has no desire to live among perpetual sweets. He would sicken at the very pro- spect; and every author feels what every child of nature would feel, that it is painful, if not im- possible, to dwell continually in a land of imagina- tion, where nothing solid exists to exercise the reason, nothing real to call forth the affections, nothing true to promote the eternal interests. We may, as Johnson says, take fancy for our companion, but must follow reason as our guide : nor have I lost sight of the maxim, that variety is pleasing. We admire Dryden as a poet, on account of the alternate XX. ADDRESS TO THE READER. ruggedness and smoothness, barrenness and beauty of his verse ; and Aristotle as a philosopher, not less for the purity of some of his philosophy, than for the versatility of his powers, and the variety of his subjects. Variety is, " as the morning of the mind, bringing new objects and images successively into view, and scattering its own fresh light over all." The frequent allusion to Chatterton in this volume are made with some view of stimulating the public in behalf of an elaborate life of the Poet now ready for the press, containing a comparison between him and his contemporaries, a dissertation on the Rowleian poetry, with a modernised version of its great beauties, and a critical and full account of his eventful history and miraculous talents — the fulness and splendour of which have never yet been brought forth. I have one other excuse to offer for the imper- fections of this volume — the serious illness of my late wife. Through many months of anxious solicitude on her account, I was called upon to write for the press, not only for this, but another work, as matter was wanted, without having time to revise and transcribe. She lived to see, what she was most ADDRESS TO THE READER. XXI, anxious to see, the close of my labours carried on under such unfavourable circumstances, when " Death, the monitor that flatters not, " Pointed to the grave where all her hopes were laid." Five or six of the first Colloquies were composed before her illness commenced : and as a proof of that strength of mind with which she was gifted, I refer the reader to the beginning of the fifth Colloquy, relative to the grounds of Mr. Herries, the greater part of which was written by her. Her powers of composition were limited ; but she had a judgment and understanding, a clearness of intellect, a delicacy of taste, of surpassing greatness. What is more, she possessed principles and virtues of the highest order, affections and sympathies of the dearest and tender- est kind, every thought and feeling breaking through her young and Madonna-like countenance, like sun- beams through the morning air. To him who saw the expression under every sentiment and shade of passion, and who loved her for her endearing smiles and brilliant virtues, it is most memorable. It is known only to one, and can therefore be remembered only by one — a remembrance which no time, no situation, no circumstance can chase away, and which will always keep alive a longing, lingering hope XX11. ADDRESS TO THE READER. that the period is yet to arrive when the short union, begun on earth, will be consecrated and sanctified in Heaven. Yes — as I think of Mary^s mind, Though perhaps to Mary's mind unknown, One infant wish is left behind — One feeling which I call my own ! But all unite in acknowledging her superiority in mind, manners, and person — all are ready to con- fess that she left upon the recollection a peculiar interest in her behalf — one of an undying character — one which gained undivided empire over the heart. The numerous letters of condolence received on the occasion of her death, the eulogies they con- tain, and the peculiar spirit of attachment and regret which they breathe, convince me she will live in the memory of her friends for ever. But let me celebrate in verse, the highest order of com- position, and take a farewell, though not a last farewell, of her whom to forget would be loss, and whom to lose would be misery, were it not that both reason and religion teach us to look now to other sources for comfort, and to rejoice rather than repine at an event which is to her gain. Farewell, then, thou — ADDRESS TO THE READER. XX111. . Whose heavenly mind Genius with virtue, strength with softness join'd ; Devotion, undebasM by pride or art, With meek simplicity, and joy of heart ; Though sprightly, gentle ; though polite, sincere ; With mind too delicate the world to bear ; Unblamed, unequalPd in each sphere of life, The tenderest daughter, sister, parent, wife. In thee their patroness th' afflicted lost ; Thy friends, their pattern, ornament, and boast ; And I But, ah ! can words my loss declare, Or paint th' extreme of transport and despair ? thou, beyond what verse or speech can tell, My guide, my friend, my best beloved — farewell ! j. s. Bath, December, 1837. COLLOQUY I. J_T was the opinion of Burke, the author of the Sub- lime and Beautiful, that these two qualities are opposed to each other. In the light he views them they are so. He would have the former convey an idea of whatever is magnificent but desolate ; the latter of whatever is small but picturesque. Sublimity and beauty, in this sense, possess no concordant properties. They are attributes of nature, on which the mind may rest with equal interest, but not with equal delight. The one attracts us by its gloom, barrenness, and quiet grandeur ; the other by its fertility and loveliness. But the degree of pleasure with which the eye turns upon a beautiful scene in nature, far surpasses that with which it would look upon one that is sublime. It is possible that these dissimilar features may exist in a space of limited extent, though they are seldom to be met with so concentred : when they are, a variety is imparted to the scene which excites contending emo- tions in the mind, of intense interest. These, in their turn, produce reflections the more elevated, because they have their origin in deeply affected feelings. A striking mixture of such dissimilar features is to be found in the east Lyn Valley of Lynmouth, where there seems to be a struggle for pre-eminence between sublimity and beauty. They exist in majestic rivalry, separated only by a purling and meandering stream, which has its rise in Exmoor, or 2 COLLOQUY I. some of the adjacent hilly country. The valley is a deep, narrow, and rather circuitous ravine, with two lines of mountainous hill of equal height, opposite each other, diversified by precipices, woods, and rocks. What Olympus and Ossa were to the Thessalian Tempe, the renowned valley, and the once beautiful river Peneus, so are these lines and the purling streams to the vale of Lynmouth. One line is covered from the bottom to the summit with foliage of great richness; the other line is of shingle and rock ; huge masses of which overhang the path, in many places, with fearful majesty. Craggy, bold, abrupt, sombre, and precipitous, a scene is presented to the eye on this side, which, in strong contrast with the other, forms a peculiar, romantic, and splendid variety. To those who seek for and delight only in rural beauty, and attach grandeur to nothing that does not carry with it some utility, a scene of this description would create dis- appointment. It is, in truth, not a rural, but a romantic spot. A few Exmoor sheep may be seen climbing, like the mountain-goat, the craggy steeps in search of herbage, and here and there the hand of the husbandman may have left some traces of his industry in the cultivation of some of the least precipitous parts of the cliff; but the soil is unkind, and yields but little in recompence for the labour which has been bestowed upon it. Those who have seen the favourite valley of the great Italian poet Petrarch, near Avignon, may form some notion of this. Vaucluse is bounded on both sides by stupendous cliffs : it has an advantage in singularity over the Lynmouth valley, having but one entrance to it, the two parallel cliffs meeting at the farther end in a semi- circle. In the semicircular space a cavern of great dimen- sions exists, and in a remote and gloomy part of it a reservoir of water, unfathomable, it is said, in depth, and COLLOQUY I. 3 supplying a stream of some magnitude which meanders through the course of the valley. In this locality Petrarch passed many of his days in studious retirement. Hither he confessedly repaired in search of that happiness which he could not gain from dissipation, and the ways of every day life. Society, in general, was irksome and toilsome to a mind composed of materials so delicate, and fruitful in the production of that wisdom which seeks the shade, and which vulgar minds suppose to be the effect of misanthropy. He loved the spot, and anticipated the possession of no greater indulgence under heaven than a residence here. To him it was a terrestrial paradise: here he sang to his favourite Laura, and dedicated himself to that most bewitching and engrossing of all pursuits, the cultivation of the Muses. The sister-nine were held sacred by him ; they drew forth his recreative and excur- sive imagination, and suggested to him a retreat so roman- tic and sublime, where he might woo them in seclusion and quiet. Extraordinary and magnificent to a degree, the valley suited such a literary disposition as his ; it seemed to heighten the imaginative tone of his mind, and give to the poetic images there delineated a bold and ele- vated character. How many of our geniuses, ancient and modern, have sighed for a retreat such as this, where they might be excluded from the cares and frivolous occupations of the world, and luxuriate, unmolested, in their own thoughts, creating and eliciting ! It were yet a place for sober thought, where reason might exclude all sophistry, and still retain at will some superstitious and illusive traditions to aid the creative and suggestive fancies of the poet. Wherever there is catastrophe of a tragic species, or invention that is pathetic, or romance that is heroic, or enterprise bold and adventurous, a ban- quet is presented to the mind which will never lose its b 2 4 COLLOQUY I. interest while it retains its variety and richness. The traditions of the ancients, the stories of the classic poets, however gothic and romantic, however subtile and irre- gular in design, or overstrained in sentiment, excite those passions of man which have a relish for whatever is marvellous, strange, and improbable. The more excitable these passions, the more intense is the interest they feel in all associations which have a romantic bearing. Thus, not only fictitious narrative, but rugged, bold, wild, and magnificent scenery is approached with interest, and con- templated with delight. Such scenery is the true fairy land of the poet, and such might be found in the valley of Lynmouth. The imagination can scarcely picture to itself a com- bination of all the properties of the sublime and beautiful in nature brought together in so small a compass. The long-lost glories of the Alhambra may remind us of former greatness and mournful vicissitudes — the vineyards of Italy of luxuriance and plenty ; but this, in particular, reminds us of God, and all that appertains to immortality. It has often been the scene of my meditations, which would vary in intenseness and animation in proportion to the susceptibility of the mind at the time, and accord- ing to the season of the year. Sometimes the mind is little disposed to receive impressions, little inclined to be excursive, and to loosen the reins of the imagination. At one period it is more influenced by whatever may induce sentiment — at another time, reflection. Now it is alive to the marvellous and fanciful ; now to the purely simple and real. There are likewise seasons of the year peculiarly congenial to the expansion of the intellect, to the elevation of the feelings. Spring imparts a buoyancy to the mind, which makes it delight in the romantic and pleasing; while autumn seems more suited to pensive and pro- COLLOQUY I. 5 found contemplation. It was in the spring of the year, however, when Nature arises from her slumber, when the whole animate world exults with joy, and the inani- mate is covered with a mantle of verdure, decked and bespangled with her inconceivable variety of flowers, and budding blossoms, that I wandered forth, in a contem- plative and susceptive mood, in the cool of the day, into this romantic and charming vale. As I advanced, my thoughts became particularly directed towards that Being who created this elysium. Awe, reverence, and love took possession of my mind, the majesty of the Almighty being evidently shadowed forth in the majesty of those works upon which my eye rested; for they are noble monuments of creative energy — sure signs of immortality. In this mood I took a prospective glance at the future. I felt, with the immortal Milton, as though " The deep transplanted mind may soar " Above the wheeling poles, and at Heaven's door " Look in.' ' The prospect is particularly calculated to inspire thoughts like these. Now it was that infidelity, that unbelief of the human heart which often tinges some of the best thoughts of man, seemed, for a time, to be dethroned, and reason and faith to take their lawful, yet unwonted seats. I thought of the spirits of those good men who had departed this life, and I wondered whether they were permitted to visit terrestrial scenes, that they might be taught more perfectly to fear, while they were allowed to praise and adore. I sought, in imagination, for the tutelary deities of the Athenians and Corinthians, willing, for a moment at least, to encourage the idea of their being invested with the power and authority which a deluded people had given them. I COLLOQUY I. called to mind the land of Eden, and the promised land of the Israelites. Though more fertile, and with a clime more genial, they could not, I imagined, present a pro- spect more majestic, more fitted in one respect to inspire fear, and awaken belief. Sages may reason, and divines propound, but what speaks so eloquently of God as the scene which now lay before me ? To think of it as the creation of one Being, is to acknowledge it as one of the strongest evidences of infinite wisdom, power, and good- ness ; to regard it as a work that must pass away, and be reduced to its primary state — to something, at least, not tangible, is admitting the existence of a Power that can distance the combined influence of every mind in every age and country, by degress of infinite and immeasurable extent. Pursuing this train of thought, which I was willing to indulge, the shadows of the evening overtook me. The boldness of the outline that surrounded me was relieved by the dusky hues of twilight; the time and the locality had the effect of soothing and tranquillizing my thoughts. The impressions wrought upon them, however, were but partially removed: philosophy now took the place of admiration, and my imagination wan- dered into those regions which conduct to the same object : — God, to the same end — futurity, but by different roads. 1 began to think of mind, for which the earth, in all its surpassing beauty and unspeakable variety, was created. It was this principle, I knew, had thus thought, and through the avenues of whose organs scenes had been presented, which were capable of inspiring and elevating it to such an extent. What, I asked myself, would be the fairest land — the sublimest scenery — the most fertile plains— what the wilderness or the desert without mind ? The extinction of the mental principle would, I argued, be followed by the annihilation of this planetary variety. COLLOQUY I. 7 It is obvious the one was made for the other; and so soon as creation had run its course, and death had passed upon all men, and all minds been gathered to their last homes, I felt conscious that this globe would no longer supply a resting-place for the sole of the foot of man, but that with the heavens it would pass away, and be no more seen. What a revolution this ! and where, in this great and mighty change, we are taught and incited to enquire, is the never-dying principle, mind ? To what purposes had it been applied, while it could call that globe its home, its native orb? What was done to give it proper directions, and stimulate it to seek for wisdom and virtue in the course of its pilgrimage there ? What to elevate it above the brute, over whom man ventures to call himself lord ? What to rouse it to a lively sense of its own responsibility and importance ? — As these ques- tions occurred to me, I thought of its nature, the series of powers it possesses, the greatness of the privileges it enjoys. Ruminating thus, I found myself arrived at a spot of inconceivable grandeur : it is one that excites a degree of awe by the desolation and boldness of its character ; the eye finding no relief, save in the beautiful foliage which decks the opposite mountainous bank ; the ear hearing nothing but the screeching of the sea-gull, or the bubbling of the little rivulet gliding smoothly on its course at the bottom of the tremendous precipice on which I then stood.* Here I fancied all the Genii of a fairy land may revel in their voluptuousness without molestation ; and the spirits of another world walk, meet- ing no one by the way to whom they could impart a portion of that influence which they are reasonably sup- * See Note A. 8 COLLOQUY I. posed to possess over men. It was destined, however, I should be deceived ; for near a rock, Where drops the lingering stream, a form I saw Resting incumbent, Seemingly entranc'd in melancholy thought. Till now a solemn gloom had been cast upon my path, the stars being the only bodies that afforded me light enough to pursue my perilous course with tolerable safety, and enable me to enjoy that majestic stillness which is peculiar to this valley in a serene and starlight evening. The turrets of rock, and the dark green foliage reflected the feeble rays of these little luminaries, and gave forth a tiny light which prevented their being entirely con- cealed from view. In the distant horizon the moon was just making herself perceptible, and eclipsing these small but welcome bodies in brilliancy. The craggy steeps and headlands first received her rays, and by degrees my path, which lay far beneath them. Below me the valley was in comparative darkness, ' ' till the moon, " Rising in clouded majesty, at length " Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light, " And, o'er the dark, her silver mantle threw.' ' At this juncture my mind was solemnly bent upon those strange scenes through which we are all doomed to pass. The great and eternal Jehovah stood before my mental eye in all his tremendousness ; death and the grave passed in review before me, and seemed, for a while, in the complete absorption of my thoughts, to lose their sting ; while the day of judgment, when the wicked shall call upon the mountains and hills to bury them, presented a more anomalous mixture of awful events than had COLLOQUY I. 9 ever, on any previous occasion, obtruded themselves upon my reflecting moments. Reaching the spot at which I had seen the person in silent attitude, he accosted me. His appearance was grave and sedate, but the expression of his countenance was benevolent and mild. Approach- ing me with peculiar grace and ease, and a smile of con- descension and benignity, which was just perceptible in the dimness of the light, he addressed me in a soft and mellifluous voice, as though its intonations and cadence found no impediment from uncouth or ill-formed organs of speech. — " The magnificence, Sir, of this scene," he observed, " is not surpassed in any part of the British Island, and scarcely so in any part of the Continent. It is one which addresses itself to those powers of the mind which are capable of experiencing the emotions of wonder and fear, and of tracing retrospectively and prospectively the progress of man, and the links of creation, from the clod of the valley to the supreme Author of all." " These very powers," I replied, " have been singularly called forth in me during my evening ramble. The beatific visions that have crossed my mind, and which have been, as it were, elicited from the scene before us, are such as I could scarcely describe. The last vision of any moment, however, was of mind itself. It is a subject of constant and increasing interest to me, and one with which I desire to become more intimately acquainted." ' ' The delight you experience," he observed, "in mental recrea- tions of this kind is pleasing in the sight of God, and to such an one as myself they afford infinite satisfaction. — But why seek you so constantly scenes of this character ? Is it because the gloom brings a solace to your mind already disposed to melancholy ? Your fondness for this sombre retreat tells me what reflections are the most pleasing to you. I have been long watching your studious 10 COLLOQUY I. posture, and would have approached you sooner, had I not been fearful of interrupting the train of your thoughts, and cutting short a reverie which I observed was evidently pleasing to you. I am one of those individuals who fre- quently perambulate sublime scenes like these, but seldom suffer myself to be visible to those whom, perchance, I may meet. It is only with minds alive to contemplations such as yours that I exchange thoughts. A mind wrought up to the highest consciousness of Almighty dominion, of a pervading Providence, invokes congenial spirits, and often those of another world. I am one of those spirits. For many years the ground has covered my body, which has been subject to the accidents of time. I yet live; and you now view me as one who has triumphed over the darkness of the grave, and been received into the marvellous light of God's glory. Willing to meet and converse with such as you, and especially on that all-pervading topic — mind, which engaged so much of my attention during my earthly sojourn, I have sought this favourable opportunity to enter upon a subject of so much importance in the economy of nature, and of the hidden events of the future/' While perceiving in my visitor an airiness of form, a majesty of mien, and a grace of attitude, to say nothing of his silvery voice, and readiness and flexibility of speech that betokened something manifestly superior, I endea- voured to reply by summoning a resolution more affected perhaps than real, more physical than moral. — What! I asked myself, come from that country whence, it is said, no traveller is permitted to return ? A degree of awe, without the usual accompaniment of incoherence or aberration, took possession of my mind while he disclosed himself to me. It was not yet unmixed with a degree of satisfaction. The idea of conversing with one whom to COLLOQUY I. 11 know could not portend evil, had due effect upon ray doubting and awe-stricken spirit. It required no depth of argument to convince me that death did not destroy the soul, and that the departed may be ministering spirits to those whom they had left behind. Young has said — " Perhaps a thousand demigods descend " On every beam we see, to walk with men.'' Though not inclined to suspect that so large a concourse of spirits pervades these lower regions upon any errand, however good, I felt conscious that the reappearance of a soul, divested as it were of the gross material elements, was not impossible, though unusual and improbable. Reasonings and feelings such as these flitted across my mind with an inconceivable rapidity. I hastened to reply. Tremblings and scarcely crediting my senses, I ventured to question the truth of the declaration which my visitor made. For an instant it appeared doubtful whether my imagination had not deluded my senses. It occurred to me that the whole was but a dream ; and still I felt none of that disorder and confusion of thought which usually attend our dreaming moments. There was a momentary struggle between Reason in her brightest character, and a fancied delusion. My visitor, naturally anticipating the effects of his visit, had assumed throughout the most invi- ting air : seeing my perplexity, he endeavoured to remove my fears, and to convince me of his spirituality ; for of his reality I still thought there was some doubt. In order to convince me that he was a disembodied being, he requested me to touch his person, which, with some hesitation, and a conscious dread of the event, I attempted to do ; but to my great surprise I found it was not tangible. That I was either in the presence of a spirit, or labouring under 12 COLLOQUY I. a delusion, could no longer be a matter of dispute ; but his conversation , together with all circumstances connected with the event, soon put an end to my doubts. " To convince you of my reality/' he said, " and of the bene- volence of my intentions, I wish to place myself in the character of a metaphysician and moral philosopher, in which I attained some degree of eminence in my earthly days, that I may, from time to time, converse with you on moral and intellectual subjects, which are far from being uninviting to such as you appear to be. In times not long past, and within the memory of persons not older than yourself, I filled the Professor's chair of Moral Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh. The name of Dugald Stewart is not perhaps unknown to you." PHRENOLOGIST. That is, indeed, a great name, and an exalted office ; but I cannot fail to notice that in the interval you occu- pied this chair, you strenuously opposed a system in the advocacy of which I am both proud and pleased to have my name recorded. It is a system that bids fair to be more generally tolerated, even if it does not promise to be essentially useful to all civilized communities. The system to which I allude is Phrenology ; and though but a novice in the matter compared to its great originators and promoters, I enter fearlessly into any combat which seeks to overthrow it, or any conversation by which it may receive strength at my hands. What has been the source of ridicule to many persons, has been in reality nothing more than the budding of a great science, which gains strength as it grows, and admirers as it blossoms. I know no subject to which I would so willingly draw your attention as this, if I may be permitted to have a choice in the matter. The abstruser parts may not be COLLOQUY I. 13 suitable to discuss in a dialogue ; but that is no reason why, in aiming at an useful, scientific, and moral end, we should exclude the subject altogether. Your intention being to converse upon matters akin to that in which you justly attained so much celebrity, and approached, if not eclipsed, every other philosophic sun in your time, I entreat you to devote at least some portion of the time to Phrenology which you propose spending with me. The old system is too stale, if not untrue. Your virtues and excellencies stand recorded in the page of history ; and your philosophy will long be known for its depth and research. In my memory your name is revered ; but I could wish to have seen you more favourably disposed towards the new philosophy introduced by Gall and Spurzheim, and which they so ably and zealously pro- pounded and defended. STEWART. Though unwilling to give my unqualified assent to all the details of your doctrine, I have no objection to give them some consideration. I was, in truth, recognised as an opponent to the system you embrace ; I rejected the advances of Spurzheim, whom, at first, I looked upon as a visionary; and discovered myself, in every respect, hostile to any encroachment upon the esta- blished systems connected with the science of mind, regarding it as an innovation which the experience of the world did not sanction. PHRENOLOGIST. That I should have an opportunity of exchanging thoughts with one in whom prejudice can no longer exist, is a privilege I never anticipated, and one which I cannot too dearly prize. It were not to be expected 14 COLLOQUY I. that any individual so exalted, and who had entered upon a happier state, should take the trouble of enquiring into the progress, or feel pleasure in the advancement, of any philosophy connected with this globe. STEWART. True — it may seem unaccountable that I, who live in a region so separated from you, and where piety and wisdom are the most essential elements, and where philosophers are assembled from every quarter of this globe, should feel sufficient interest in your sciences, your virtues, and your morals, as to bring myself into contact with them again, enquire into their progress, and rejoice in their advance- ment. My sphere is one of enchantment, where rea- sonings such as Plato's, and musings such as Homer's, give an additional lustre to the scene. It is an inter- mediate state, where its occupants look forward to the day of judgment, when the great archangel shall sound the last trump, and all nations and people be gathered together before God. We wait to behold the long- expected events which we have not yet been permitted to see — " the sapphire thrones standing undazzling to the sight " — the face, hitherto invisible, welcoming the blessed to their mansions on high, with a smile of benignance, and mercy, and love. We wait to hear celestial harps hymning the praise of God, and the hallelujahs of the angelic choirs who are inspired by the presence of the Deity— " Where dwells love, and joy, and pure delight, " Where swiftly flee the roseate hours away ; " And spirits of heaven mark not their rapid flight, " Since all's one boundless, bright, eternal day." The character of our present enjoyments is altogether COLLOQUY I. 15 independent of those inconceivable scenes described in the Revelations. It is simply mind meeting mind ; but though not permitted to pry into the deeper mysteries of God concerning the state upon which we are engaged or appointed to enter, we are yet, in some degree, like Solomon, in terrestrial matters, who, with a heart deeply inspired, ele- vated, and enlarged, comprehended all nature, " from the hyssop to the cedar." Into our minds has been shed a great and marvellous light ; but the sphere to which we have been transported is so much more congenial to their expansion, that our visits to this earth are attended by an evident diminution of that light's lustre. Yet whatever that light is, it is borrowed, as much as that of the beau- tifully full orb we now see rising above the summit of yonder hill. Though curiosity may bring us among you, no addition is made to the peculiar happiness which is attached to our ethereal constitution, except when we have occasion to exult in the piety and virtue of those in whom the whole family of angels and saints feel a lively interest. One of the greatest pleasures you have is the retrospection of the past; this affords us but little; as that, and all other earthly felicities fall very short of the perfection of our enjoyments. " The soul/' linked to its earthly frame, "is enlivened by looking back upon past enjoyments: it is a blessing next to that of happiness in actual pos- session ; the past and the present only are certain — the future is darkened by the cloud of obscurity, or dazzling in the ever-changing light of Hope." Of the expan- siveness of our minds, in our own pure element, you can have no conception, nor would any revelation from me give you an adequate idea of it. PHRENOLOGIST. This I can easily conceive. St. Paul, who was caught up to the third heaven, and into paradise, ventured not, 16 COLLOQUY I. on his return, to give a description of what he heard and saw. In paradise he heard and saw, he says, unspeakable things, which it is not lawful or possible for man to utter. He makes no allusion to heaven, as though it was too awfully grand and glorious for him even to refer to. How ineffectually has St. John, in the Revelations, described his vision or dream ; nor was St. Stephen, to whom the heavens were opened, and he permitted to see the glory of God, and "Jesus standing at the right hand of God," able to describe the splendour and magnificence of the scene. These are all miracles— visions, which these chosen persons were allowed to behold, but not to represent by any human words. It is not, indeed, in the power of any earth-born language to convey a notion of such glorious wonders. It would require something more than human intellect to bring them within the limit of our comprehension. STEWART. The word unspeakable may be rendered secret, and the words of St. Paul read thus — " I heard things which neither can, nor ought to be described." It is impossible for mortal man to comprehend so much as the nature and joys of a redeemed spirit, much less the splendour of the heavenly temple. I have as little power to depict to you the glories of an invisible state as Paul, Peter, and John had. PHRENOLOGIST. It was the opinion of Grotius that no inferior being could comprehend one exalted above himself, unless, indeed, the superior revealed the nature of his own elevation. COLLOQUY I. 17 STEWART. From experience I find that an idea of this elevation is not communicable. I cannot describe to you explicitly in what consists our enjoyment. It is borrowed from a Source of whose attributes we know little ; nor do we see whence radiate the beams which bring so much brightness, and such a perpetual light and inconceivable felicity to our element. Here — " We talk of beauties which we never saw, " And fancy raptures that we never knew." Unable to judge of our own sensations so mysteriously delightful — incapable of understanding wherein consists the fulness of our joy, we cannot express what we feel ; particularly when occasions call us to this globe, where the soaring of the intellect is not so brilliant and strong, nor the warmth of the affections so ardent and beatific. From the nature of this planet, it is perhaps as necessary that the faculties of man should be sustained and displayed by means of material parts, as that a sound should be propagated by means of air. But since the mind can live disjointed from its material tenement, as my own expe- rience proves, it must, of necessity, be distinct in nature from that tenement, though not destined to exist or act on earth without it, unless it be sent from above. Through whatever media our sensations might have been produced on earth, they suffer abatement only in their violence and abuse when separated from such gross media. In my time there was an opinion, formed certainly on unsubstantial grounds, that the interval elapsing between death and the resurrection is to the soul a state of sleep. Inactivity, however, is a property not belonging to a spirit. 18 COLLOQUY I. PHRENOLOGIST. It has been the opinion of sages of old — it is the opinion of some infidels of the present day, that the soul absolutely dies with the body. STEWART. To talk of the death of the soul, when there are so many direct testimonies to the contrary, is a proof of a debased heart. — But the evening being far spent, we will leave this subject till another opportunity offer for our meeting. Meanwhile, learn to look upon me as a welcome visitor, friendly to you, individually, and well-disposed towards the whole human race. Till then adieu ! At that instant my companion vanished from my sight. His disappearance was not the least remarkable part of this singular phenomenon. He was gone — I knew not whither nor how : his departure was momentary — instan- taneous. He had conversed with me as one human ; but he left me like one who had omnipotence at his command. Now visible, now invisible — " And what seemed corporeal " Melted as breath into the wind." The inimitable Burns has compared sensual pleasure * * To snow that falls upon a river— " A moment white — then gone for ever !" This disappearance of snow may convey a pretty accurate notion of my visitor's vanishing. The change was as rapid as a flash of lightning, without occasioning the slightest commotion in the air, or any perceptible altera- COLLOQUY I. 19 tion in any thing except my own feelings, which were indescribable. I was not prepared for an event so sudden, for a mutation so abrupt. I felt, for a moment, incon- solable at the loss, for he seemed a newly-acquired friend — one whose experience I could trust, and from whom consolation might be derived: and yet an occasional sensation of fear intermingled itself with my hopes and sympathies, sufficient to disturb my repose, and some- times dark enough to cast a gloom into those avenues which were wont to afford comfort and relief. To think, was to become entangled in a labyrinth more inextricable than ever — to disbelieve, was idle and impossible. Be it as it may, I determined to keep the matter a secret, lest perchance, by some strange fatality, I should be deceived; and lest the incredulous should ridicule, and think that insanity, instead of a ghost, had visited me. — The moon was throwing her beams on the verdant heath, the dark green foliage, the jutting rock. By her soft light I leisurely retraced my steps, and began to think of our next meeting, both longing and fearing to see my visitor again. c2 (20) COLLOQUY II. On a fine evening, a little before sunset, I rambled towards the Valley of Rocks. It was the close of a lovely day, and from a distant dell was heard the little nightin- gale's wild and melodious song, which echoed and re- echoed in the valley I had just reached. At the extreme end of this valley stands the Castle Rock, an insulated pile of stone, rugged and precipitous, rising loftily and abruptly to the height of three or four hundred feet from the beach which bounds the Bristol Channel. On the land-side its summit may be approached by a somewhat gradual slope. Here it is cut off from the main promon- tory by a ravine of half its depth, as though, in this ravine, which forms a sort of arm to the valley, there had at one period been a river which poured its contents into the sea below, thus forming, it may be conceived, a beautiful cascade. From this ravine, if such it may be called, a magnificent sea- view is presented to the eye. On either side rise towering pillars of rock ; across the channel are perceived the Welch coast and mountains ; and a little to the left, at evening, the setting sun sinking below the horizon, and throwing its feeble rays on the still waters from which they are reflected, casting a light of varied hues and softness. This valley is known to the Devonians as the Valley of Rocks ; it was formerly called COLLOQUY II. 21 the Valley of Stones ; and at a still more remote period, the Valley of Deans or Danes. Being bounded on both sides by lofty piles of rock, it was doubtless selected by the Danish soldiers for an encampment. Its contiguity to the sea, and to a fine, undulated country, rendered it a place of great security. To have found a better station in those days of rapine and strife was almost impossible. Lynton is situated at the entrance of this valley, which is about a mile in length. It terminates in a beautiful woody glen, which bends its course inland, with here and there knolls, many hundred feet high, covered with small oaks, which, when in leaf, give a peculiar charm to the scenery. Contrasted with the huge beds and piles of rock, it appears, perhaps, to greater advantage than it other- wise would. From these knolls the sea and opposite coast are noble objects, especially from a spot called Duty Point, which is rather the termination of a headland of gigantic height, yawning terrifically over the channel's bank, where the sea-gull is watching for prey, and the little bark appears a distant object — a mere speck on the ocean, from the great elevation of the cliff*. In the valley itself, which is so much talked of, the tourist may, perhaps, be disappointed : but a walk is connected with it that forms the chief point of attraction, and which is grand beyond conception. To the valley belongs a wildness, a desolation, and a lonesomeness, pe- culiarly its own. Not a tree nor a shrub graces its banks. It recalls to our memory the description given of the sites of ancient Babylon, and other by-gone eastern cities, by Keith and Buckingham. It is awe-striking — sublime without being beautiful. In the evening a gloom pre- vails, which gives it a still more solemn appearance. This gloominess is attributable to the high promontories obstructing the rays of the sun, now setting behind 22 COLLOQUY II. them. In boisterous weather, when the wind comes whistling by, and the surge of the sea is beating vehe- mently against the towering cliffs, sending up its spray to a great height, and occasioning a reverberating sound like distant thunder, there is a solemn grandeur about the whole scene that defies description. A fitter place could not well be conceived than this in impetuous weather for calling up spectral illusions in the mind. Here Fancy, roaming at large, may indulge in all her ghostly and terrific reveries, and even hear some unknown voice in the winds telling you, in the words of Warton, in his " Pleasures of Melancholy," that a " ghostly shape " At distance seen, invites, with beck'ning hand, " Thy lonesome steps.' ' How often have I watched the small, frail bark from this point, when the sea threatened immediate destruc- tion to her and her little crew ! How intently have I gazed on the wrecks sometimes spread over the watery waste, the relics of which were the ensigns of death to those toil-worn mariners who, while reposing in sleep, had been roused by the cry of the watch ! " Arise, O sleeper ! oh, arise and see, " There's not a twiny thread 'twixt death and thee I " This darksome place thou measur'st, is thy grave, " And sudden death rides proud on yonder wave." Quarks. Here have I " stood, till through the vast profound, " Dismal afar, but more astounding near, " A mingled tumult struck my startled ear — " The vaulted deep and trembling shore resound. " Far on the right the bellowing flood descends ; " Above, the frowning rock for ever bends." Boyd's Dante. COLLOQUY II. 23 It was at a period, however, when the channel was not disturbed by storm or tempest — when not so much as a breath of wind, nor a ripple on the sea, was perceptible — and when a still light was cast on the shadowed rocks, that the Professor again made himself visible. The first glance occasioned a slight tremor through my frame, which was soon dissipated by his placid and inviting demeanour. By the time I had recovered from my mo- mentary terror he spoke. His voice appeared more sweet and melodious than ever. The interest he had excited in my mind gave a charm to every word and look. It was a spell I was unwilling to break ; for I confess it grew stronger and stronger as he continued to excite my imagination, give food for my reason, and delight to my senses. His conversation was the more captivating as it grew familiar to me ; and I began to think I should look for his periodical visits with impatience and infatuation. It even occurred to me that this enthusiasm may become an evil, by engrossing too much of my attention, and taking me from duties, social and moral, which it was incumbent on me to perform. At present it had done this, for to divide my thoughts was a task which I had neither the will nor the power to effect. We all know the overpowering authority of the will — its wonder-work- ing influence. To that man yields ; it is a magnet that draws him whithersoever it would. Reason is its slave ; sentiment its handmaid ; for all is brought in subjec- tion to its authority. It is, unfortunately, too much under the dominion of our imaginative faculties — too much the servant of our passions, and, by them, leads us to the commission of evil. It is a baneful attribute when not properly directed, urging man to the perpetra- tion of the deepest crimes, which are varied in proportion to its capriciousness. 24 COLLOQUY II. STEWART. Our last interview was one of great moment, as it referred to events connected with the future. To-day we must consider the particular object of my visit, which has more immediate reference to the present and the past. I do not, however, intend to lay restrictions upon our converse, to the exclusion of such digressions as may arise out of the subject in question, and be, in their turn, of a profitable and entertaining cast. Whenever any thing useful can be elicited, let it be done. We must know nothing of fastidiousness, nothing of that excessive caution which affects to be wise and lenient under the cover of being charitable. Whatever abuse presents itself, suffer it not to pass unnoticed. Unless it be drawn from its retreat, and animadverted upon, it will continue its pernicious influence. It must be exposed to the gaze of the world in all its hideousness and deformity, that men may no longer be duped by its speciousness. There is a false delicacy in not exposing prevalent errors, on the presumption that acrimony and jealousy have prompted to their exposure. The most philanthropic man hopes to see them expunged — the wisest endeavours to effect it. PHRENOLOGIST. I readily concur with you in this opinion. It is obvious that the improvement of the world is checked by attempts to conceal those defects which have stolen insi- diously into our social systems, and corrupted the springs of society. It is delightful, however, to know that such defects are merely of a temporary duration — that they lose their force and very existence in the mansions of the redeemed, I have thought much of our late interview. COLLOQUY II. 25 The felicitous account you have given of the intermediate state is one upon which none who have not yet tasted of its sweets, can dwell without considerable emotion. It were almost to be desired that we had a knowledge of the happiness of that state, if not of Heaven, though not permitted to enjoy it. Not so, however, if the event would be as unhappy, and inglorious, and sinful as the Rev. Dr. Taylor, the friend of the immortal Johnson, assumes, who says (i a previous and circumstantial knowledge of the felicity of Heaven" is not given, u lest, overpowered by the inestimable and eternal reward, we should be induced to anticipate it by a voluntary and premature extinction of our present existence, and, of course, by a desertion of that post which Providence has assigned us." STEWART. This idea of Taylor was greatly commended for its originality, but contravened for its inconsistency. He most probably borrowed it from Shakspeare, who says, in relation to the Book of Fate, " Oh, if this were seen, " The happiest youth, — viewing his progress through, — " What perils past, what crosses to ensue, " Would shut the book, and sit him down and die." 2c? Henry 4th. The idea is one that would suggest itself to any mind accustomed to reflect on the exaltation of celestial glories, and the advantages and disadvantages that might arise from their perceptible revelation to us. In the dream imputed to Linnaeus, the renowned botanist, a similar notion is conveyed in these words : — " It must not be revealed to man too clearly what are the glories of that exalted state, lest he should be unwilling to remain his 26 COLLOQUY II. appointed time in this, and rushing immaturely into it, should fail in the desired end." PHRENOLOGIST. This is a gratuitous assumption, irreconcileable with reason, yet according with the views of Lucan, who says that " the gods conceal from men the happiness of death, that they may endure life." To wish for an interview with one of those from whose bourn, it is said, no tra- veller returns, is a laudable curiosity ; but if it be desired for the sake of confirming belief, it savours of infidelity. STEWART. It is questioning the authenticity of Scripture. He who desires it, is wanting in faith. It is not fit you should know the mysteries of another world. You are disqualified, by reason of your nature, to comprehend them, much less to build any species of faith on them. I would have you turn your thoughts to what is revealed. If you believe not this, you will believe nothing. It is the strongest evidence, because it is the word of God. PHRENOLOGIST. Seeing, however, the unbelief of the human heart as regards a futurity — seeing the absorption of the mind in the engrossing vanities of the world, and the prostitution of the noble faculties which Adam has transmitted to us — faculties fitted, when unabused, for the highest desti- nies, even for eternity in heaven, it were, apparently, to be desired that members of another and a happier world should sometimes appear in that visible, though intan- gible, shape in which you now stand before me. In this case palpable evidence, such as could not be cheated by a delusive imagination or a perverted reason, would be COLLOQUY II. 27 destructive to that incredulity under which all labour more or less, and be the foundation of a faith from which none would desire to be released. So, at least, it appears to such finite reasoning as the mind here can employ ; but a higher testimony, whose authority we dare not dispute, reduces such an argument to a mere fallacy, for we should not believe though one rose from the dead. Reason, it is true, is unwilling to assent to this declara- tion. Though, like the cameleon, it is constantly under- going a change, experiencing, like our own planet in its diurnal and annual revolutions, a perpetual change, it rarely becomes subject to the defecating influence of the Sun of Righteousness in his fulness, his strength, and his majesty : the mind is comet-like in its movements. But on this one might ponder until the whole catalogue of enormities, deep with the dye of selfishness and scepti- cism, perpetrated by this monster, human reason, appears before you, sickening and terrifying even to behold. In speaking of the mind, it is the business of the phrenolo- gist to treat of its habits and tendencies. There is a long chain of faculties inherent in man ; but if we touch upon its constitution without including the abuses, the vices, it generates, we do injustice to the cause, and leave un- touched the most essential feature of the whole. If we talk of the constitution of a government, and say nothing of the habits of the people living under it, and for whom that government was framed, we are guilty of an omission which few circumstances can warrant. In the bestowal of our faculties, the Creator thought little of his work in comparison with the effect it might produce. He gave them that they might burst forth in vigorous obedience, and that the seed they dropped might spring up, yielding a harvest of piety and virtue. When God created the earth, and all things preparatory to the vital part of it, 28 COLLOQUY II. he thought of the happiness he should dispense. He looked forward to the season s, to the fragrance of flowers, the warbling of birds, the beauties of the landscape, the morning and the evening — in fact, the whole of nature, producing harmony, and love, and unfeigned and pure rejoicings among his rational creatures ; affections and rejoicings of which nothing save mind can partake, yet about which the cold, calculating philosopher concerns himself so little. STEWART. So long as religion is not supplanted by metaphysical argument, such as mental discussions usually involve — so long as the tendencies of the mind are moralized upon with the view of discovering of what the faculties, whence those tendencies proceed, consist — so long as the phrenolo- gist, in his hope to elicit truth, does good by commenting upon the prevailing vices, the abuses of nature, it were much to be wished that ridicule should not daunt him, nor indifference paralyze his exertions. But the study of phrenology would seem to hold out no inducement for comments of this nature. I have not of late canvassed my views on the subject ; but in by-gone days this study seemed to perpetuate an idea of which I could not divest myself, that it gave the mind a fatal bias which no cir- cumstances had the means of remedying. The principles of your doctrine are plainly these, and upon them I build my creed as to the tendency they appear to have in keep- ing the will of man subservient to his organic conforma- tion. You say that the brain, which I doubt not is the most delicate and beautiful piece of workmanship belong- ing to the body, is divided into different portions, which have each a distinct mode of action. If I mistake not, you further declare that in proportion to the number and COLLOQUY II. 29 size of the molecules, or atoms, which each portion con- tains, so is the strength of the mental emotion, whether it develop itself in motive or action, elicited from them. Upon the strength of these hypotheses I argue thus. The force of any particular emotion of the mind which elicits bad as well as good motives being determined in extent by the size of the medium through which it is given, then that force, whatever it be, that dominance of one mental bias over another, is rendered subservient to the medium, like a vibration to a musical instrument, through which it is displayed. PHRENOLOGIST. With these principles it would be difficult for the most fastidious phrenological writer to find fault. Im- partial reasoning will, however, shew how very ill adapted they are to lead to the inference which appears to grow out of them, i. e. the fatality of mind. Tt is a fond wish, cherished by most phrenologists, that an infer- ence of this kind, so diametrically opposed to the views of a Christian nation, and to that Holy Book by which it is intended the whole mental economy of man shall be governed, should be expunged. Against your early im- pression there are many arguments to be advanced. I would take your own simile as an appropriate vehicle of defence. A musical vibration is not alone dependent on its instrument. Take a violin for example : first it requires some independent agent to move its springs, and then air to give a vibrating sound. The larger, too, that violin is, the more powerful is the sound it gives forth. It is just so with the brain. It requires some agent apart from itself to move it ; and those motions, when given, are under the influence of external means, directed by them, impelled by them, the brain yet having a reserving 30 COLLOQUY II. authority : like the violin, it is passive until operated upon by causes having a stronger impression in propor- tion to the size — the constitution of the instrument which is used as the medium. STEWART. Phrenology viewed in such a light has the effect of dissipating, in no inconsiderable degree, that formidable objection which most anti-phrenologists have been ready to urge against it. The view, I say, cancels a notion which has long darkened the sceptical hemisphere. I doubt not its truth, because I can adduce no cogent rea- sons to overthrow it. But there are other objections which require some refutation ; and as the prejudices which this orb's inhabitants imbibe, will not be removed by the argument involved in your explanation, without other and more cogent ones, it would be well if you more explicitly stated and enforced them. The more opposing forces you provide yourself with, the more for- midable will be the station you occupy, and the more likely will you be to come off victorious in the battle which phrenologists have been so long waging, and it would appear without having encroached much hitherto upon their enemies' ground. PHRENOLOGIST. In Mr. Combe's " Constitution of Man," a book of considerable thought and ingenuity, there is, in my opinion, one error tantamount to that which is sufficient to exclude phrenology from the minds of the Christian public. I allude to the declaration, purporting to be a deduction, such as the anti-phrenologist would draw, in reference to the tendency of this science. It is this — " a man cannot become penetrated by the love of God, except COLLOQUY II. 31 through the aid of sound and sufficient material organs ; and I venture to affirm, that the influence of the organs does not terminate with these extreme cases, but operates in all circumstances and in every individual, aiding or impeding the reception and efficacy even of revelation." — Mr. Combe's zeal and talent must secure him the respect of the public. The argumentative and lucid scope of his mind, which has portrayed the features of a principle so wonderfully important in the philosophic era, and so marvellously concerned in the destinies of futurity, gives him a high standing among the moralists and philoso- phers of the day, in the attainment of which every man would feel himself fortunate. But this is a blemish in his philosophy. To this subject, however, we will revert on some future occasion. Meanwhile, rest assured that phrenology has no fatalizing tendency, so far as religious emanations and devotional feelings are concerned. STEWART. Is it not deemed an objection to phrenology that the higher classes of society are indisposed to admit its truth ? PHRENOLOGIST. Yes : but this conclusion is very premature. If you allude to the nobility, I find no difficulty in furnishing a reply. Our situations in life have not presented us with passports to the closets and retired haunts of men in the highest circles, where alone the sober lucubrations of the mind are poured forth. We may, perchance, meet them at the banquet of the rich and noble, and in other festive scenes, where no other allusion is made to phrenology than in a jesting or ironical manner ; such as that young lady can have no other organ than that of marvellousness, 32 COLLOQUY II. as her head is full of nothing but romance and fiction ; or that gentleman can have no social organs, for he talks of retiring from society, disgusted with its levities and inconsistencies, into some sequestered spot, where he can hear nothing but the bleating of the sheep, the horn of the shepherd, or the song of the ploughman. The pur- suits of the higher classes are such as do not lead them to studies so comparatively devoid of interest, and so involved in abstrusities as this science ; and hence we can draw no inference from the scepticism of men who are attracted too much by other pursuits to give this subject due consideration. STEWART. True. They are, besides, not a writing body ; there- fore, whatever opinions they have, are not handed down to the world in the only true form from whence we can gain proper information of the sentiments of their minds. We have nothing but their verbal testimony, which all will acknowledge is but slight. One feels anxious to conciliate men of rank in its favour, if it really deserve such favour, seeing the influence of fashionable support. Though the walks of phrenology may be strewed with flowers of variegated hues, there is a sombreness in their tints which renders them little attractive to men whose natural element is one of great brilliancy and gaiety. Not that such personages are incapacitated by nature for intellectual pursuits ; for I have always considered that, with elevation of birth, there is commonly an elevated intellect, and almost universally an expanded forehead, which you admit is an indication of intellectual ability. In my intercourse with the nobility, I have met with but few who gave a willing countenance to this doctrine. I pretend not to say on what this unwillingness depends. COLLOQUY u. 33 PHRENOLOGIST. My intercourse with this class is too slight to suffer me to form any judgment in the matter ; yet it is suffi- cient to allow me to say, that I owe to a young lady of noble birth the passionate fondness I have conceived for this science. This lady I had the good fortune to meet at the table of a common friend. The strong intellectual bias of her mind, conjoined with the beauty of her person, rendered her an object of general interest. With the most unaffected air, she enquired of me whether that beautiful science phrenology was gaining ground among the literati of the day. As a physician, she took it for granted I was fully able to answer the question, looking upon the science as intimately connected with medicine. Anxious to give a satisfactory answer to one so interesting, and ashamed of the advantage she- had, in being better conversant than myself with that which it was my par- ticular business to know, I felt confused, and attempted to evade the question by professing myself sceptical. With this reply, however, she was not satisfied, and per- ceiving my indecision, which arose entirely from igno- rance, she proposed to enter fully into particulars before we parted, for which purpose I retired to the drawing- room soon after the ladies. Here she entered with enthusiasm into the subject upon which we may now be supposed to have met. I listened attentively to the fair advocate of phrenology ; and when she discussed the merits of the science, interspersing her arguments with many lively anecdotes, — when, with a pleasing address, heightened by the persuasiveness of her manner, the ease, fluency, and grace of her language, she told me of the good which was the probable result of its promulga- tion, and of the benefit which society in general would 34 COLLOQUY II. receive, I was irresistibly led to place some confidence in what she advanced, though it sufficed not to persuade me. The reproof, for such I found it, had a desirable effect. Deville himself could not have pleaded the cause with greater energy. STEWART. Had the enthusiasm of this lady, whose person and manners seem to have had more attractions for you than the science whose cause she advocated, any effect upon her family by inducing them to think as she thought, and feel as she felt ? PHRENOLOGIST. They were not inattentive to the arguments she ad- vanced and the facts she adduced; but they were too indifferent to the whole matter to give it an impartial investigation, or to place full reliance on all she was enabled to bring forward. Her nervous pleading, how- ever, had a different effect upon myself. I took the subject into consideration, gave it, for a short period, my undivided attention, and then it was I discovered that I had been living in darkness and rejecting a science capable of yielding much useful information, much amusement and gratification — one on which the happi- ness and prosperity of families, nay, of a nation, might be made, perhaps, in some measure, to depend. STEWART. If the cold reception, perhaps I may add ridicule, which phrenology has met with among the higher classes of society do not seriously affect its truth, it is at least rendered dubious by the great hesitation long manifested in schools of learning, and by men of talent, to give it COLLOQUY II. 35 the least sanction as an inductive, or other than a fan- tastical science. PHRENOLOGIST. Fantastical you have said. Phrenology is undeserving the ridicule it has met with. If merit is due to Locke, Reid, and Descartes, it is equally due to Gall, Spurz- heim, and Combe. They are men who have trod in the same path of science. The main object of both classes has been to develop the constitution of the human mind. One has spoken of it as unconnected with organs, the other refers you to it through the medium of the brain. One hopes to elucidate the matter by reasoning alone, the other by reasoning and observation combined. The phrenologist endeavours to prove that the mind has a certain number of inherent, immaterial faculties common to all men, and respectively or individually manifested by different material parts, while the metaphysician passes by these inherent elements, and alludes, more particu- larly, to those spontaneous evolutions of the mind under emotion which constitute, in themselves, nothing more nor less than the operations or effects of an internal cause that is by him overlooked. The philosophy of both orders is profound, and as philosophers of no ordi- nary qualifications, must phrenologists be ranked. Can- vass their motives, and they will be found good and disinterested; put their talents to the test, and what mentalists shall be seen to outstrip them ? Spurzheim, not only anatomized the brain, and discovered what others had failed to perceive, but he dissected, as it were, the mental principle itself, laid bare its motives and actions, its tendencies and sympathies — the real elements of its constitution. His disciples are merely following the course he pursued ; clearing away, meanwhile, all d 2 36 COLLOQUY II. incumbrances, and attempting to break down the factious and fastidious barrier which public opinion has raised against it. On this barrier the word prejudice is written in characters so legible that all may see them who view the science with a tolerant and impartial eye. This has proved itself a sad obstacle to the progress of phrenology. In your time, especially, there was a disinclination to recognize phrenology on the ground of its not being a sober piece of philosophy, or even so much as a system from whence may issue some new light, some increasing interest, some ample testimony, some profit and advan- tage in a moral point of view. STEWART. Has then this disinclination become less evident in those who are capable of judging of the merits or demerits of this subject ? To loosen the shackles of discord is to break the bonds of impiety, for perpetual wrangling, whether it be in science, in morals, or in religion, must engender personal feelings inimical to the well-being of man. PHRENOLOGIST. Of late the science has gained ground considerably among individual members of learned bodies, among men of undisputed talents. But one reason why the doctrine has been so little tolerated by such persons, is the little consideration they have given it: nor have the unfair reviews of phrenological works that have been put forth from time to time, had a trifling effect in checking the enterprising mind or the curiosity of the public. These notices have been unfair from their containing deductions having a ridiculous cast, and not warranted by the pre- mises whence they were drawn. Your own countryman, COLLOQUY II. 37 Jeffrey, perverted, misconstrued, and misunderstood the literal meaning of the phrenological productions he criti- cised, and hence drew inferences which facts did not justify. Mr. George Combe's reply to this attack is a noble defence of the science he advocates, and a most satisfactory exposure of his antagonist's weakness or want of candour. As with Jeffrey's critiques, so has it been with those of most other reviewers. They have had weight, however, with the public mind, and given a fan- tastical colouring to the science which time only can remove. I never yet saw a review against phrenology wherein the meaning of the phrenologist was not per- verted; wherein unskilfulness and almost total ignorance of the doctrine were not distinctly evident. I speak not of the talent of the reviewers, which has often displayed itself with vigour and energy, but I speak of their total unfitness for their office, in this instance, by reason of their manifest ignorance of that which they pretend to review. I look upon phrenology as being as difficult a subject to understand as is Medicine, or Law, or The- ology, and it would be more than ridiculous, nay posi- tively unfair, in a person, knowing nothing of either of these departments, to sit down and review the compo- sition of a Divine, a Lawyer, or a Physician, whose especial business it is to be conversant with the doctrines they explain, the precepts they inculcate. To bring for- ward instances in proof of my assertion would be a work of supererogation, so numerous are they. Every phre- nologist can bear testimony to this truth ; every one is ready to aver that phrenologists have been unfairly dealt by in this respect ; and that it has given an unfavourable bias to the public mind, more especially to those persons who place implicit confidence in the opinions of reviewers. The idea, too, of discovering the motives, talents, and 38 COLLOQUY II. secret tendency of the mind by bumps (as they are called) upon the scull, is made to appear in such a ridi- culous point of view, as to preclude the possibility of it being looked upon through any other medium than that of prejudice. I am satisfied this has hitherto formed a serious obstacle. Imperfectly considered it bears an un- reasonable character, nor has it ceased to have effect upon men who were afterwards led to see the importance of the truth it conveyed. STEWART. But why, if it be both an useful and philosophical system, should it have been so long excluded from our recognized schools of learning ? PHRENOLOGIST. That our Colleges and our Halls, and other established institutions of the country have so long rejected it, or withheld their cordial assent to the principles it involves, after the unfavourable introduction it received from the reviewers, when first promulgated to effect in this country, now about thirty years ago, is not to be wondered at. Besides, the great difficulty there is in reducing it to fixed principles, so far as its application is concerned, and which takes nothing from its truth, is another objection to its being inculcated in seats of learning, where we know it is not the business to institute, but merely to propagate doctrines. It is not an university, nor any regularly organized body of men formed into a society, which establish doctrines. It is rather their prerogative to receive, adopt, and disseminate or teach that which, having been first suggested by some original mind, is eventually formed into a system, and that, previously to COLLOQUY II. 39 their receiving it. Besides, other sciences have met with equal neglect in their infancy from learned bodies, and afterwards been regularly adopted and promulgated by them. No person disputes the infantile state of phre- nology, and no one would expect to see it, in such a state, made a branch of education or instruction in insti- tutions where nothing is supposed to be taught but that, on the truth and usefulness of which there rests not the shadow of a doubt. Were the professors of our esta- blished schools of learning to turn their attention to this science, divested of all their former prejudices, be they ever so numerous and occasioned by whatsoever they may, they would not neglect to see what individual mem- bers have seen, much truth, much interest, and much anticipated good by the study of it. The objections having weight with the public, unlearned as well as learned, are many ; some of them bear a specious, others a plausible, others a serious aspect ; and until their vari- ous merits and demerits are carefully weighed by indi- vidual members of the sceptical world, there is but little hope of the barrier between them and phrenology being broken down. Let every objector weigh the written testimony against himself, or even against the whole body of written evidence on his side, when, if he be candid and wise, he wiJl see a great preponderance in favour of the phrenological cause. The largest proportion of men, are, I admit, averse to it. If the voice of the people were taken as a test, our hope of success would be small ; but take the sense of that part of the community who have become thoroughly conversant with the matter (which is the only proper criterion) and then the victory of the phrenologists would be complete. The fact of numbers being against us is no proof of the weakness and fallacy of our cause. The largest proportion of the nation 40 COLLOQUY II. is inclined to radicalism, but that is no proof of toryism or conservatism being the less able to preserve inviolate the interests of the people : dive into the deepest depths of the human heart, and sound its religious persuasions, and more unbelief will be discovered than even Satan himself could suggest, and yet the truth of Christianity loses nothing, the gem we failed to find none of its value and brilliancy. STEWART. I am willing to grant that the little progress your science has made must not be received as a positive proof of its fallacy. If all truths met with toleration, you would be a blessed people. Phrenology may be one of the truths which have been neglected. Christianity has ever been rejected by some individuals ; and several of the sublimest doctrines and most brilliant discoveries in morals and philosophy have been pointedly condemned as fallacious and injurious, for which the experience of ages alone could obtain an universal recognition. The greatest truths have met with opposition — their advocates impri- sonment, bloodshed, and death. PHRENOLOGIST. In earlier periods, when schism, intolerance, bigotry, and superstition were at their height, phrenology; in its first rude and unpolished state, would have met with but few disciples. Whatever interfered with the fixed notions and creeds of the ancients, was looked upon as a daring innovation, and often punished as a crime. The fate of Galileo, who protested against the futile systems of astro- nomy then in vogue, substituting for them one that involved a doubt of their correctness, i. e. the diurnal and annual revolution of the globe, is impressed upon the memory of every reading and reflecting mind. The de- COLLOQUY II. 4J clension of that superstitious adherence to antiquated doctrines, crude and unreasonable as they might have been, is favourable to the development of rational sys- tems and the preponderance of truth. Gall had much to encounter in his struggles to penetrate into the region of phrenology, a region never before explored with success or zeal. Divested of all prejudice, and possessing an unusual degree of observation, he was bent upon culling the sweets from every flower in this comparatively un- trodden land. In its general features there was some- thing that attracted him. By degrees his reason and sagacity were fed, his enthusiasm and ardour enlivened and increased. The deeper he penetrated the more trea- sures and beauties he discovered. Of what he explored he gave a history which embraces many interesting as well as undigested topics. He had not time to mature his ideas, none to separate the clay from the ore, the beauties from the deformities. The mower was wanted to cut down the thistles and briars, the pruner to prune many excrescences which the soil produced. Like Columbus, who went in search of the new Continent, he had but few supporters, but little patronage to assist him through the toilsomeness of his researches. Prompted by a generous enthusiasm, and upheld by strength of mind, he broke down barriers which divided him from other men talis ts of his age and country. STEWART. It has been said that Gall relinquished the doctrine in his latter days, because he could reduce it to no fixed principles. PHRENOLOGIST. That he made no very useful application of his disco- veries none pretend to doubt ; but that he ever rejected 42 COLLOQUY II. the principles, which, by a long course of observation and reasoning, he had formed, is not likely. It is too much to say he saw himself the victim of indiscretion, in that he found himself to be his own dupe. To have been carried back by the stream against which he had been so long struggling, and the force of which he had mainly conquered by his perseverance, is not what one can sus- pect a mind like Gall's to have been subject to. If he had any object in view which he ultimately abandoned, it was one which the immature state of his own system would not warrant. No doctrine was ever yet projected, of which its projector did not anticipate events that would form an important era in his history, but which were not likely to be realized, at least by him. Systems of use- fulness have always been tardily framed, new truths (for nothing but truth can be made useful) must undergo great analysis, great elaboration, and suffer somewhat by contortions before they can be moulded so as to suit the habits and prejudices of the public, and made the life- springs of action, the mediums of usefulness. As in the laboratory of the chemist pure elements and atoms are separated from such as are noxious, so in the invention of a science, which is only truth separated from error, good from evil, are precautionary and analysing means equally required. I look upon Gall as a man of deep penetration, as a scientific hero of his time, as the reviver of a light which had been dimly revealed in days prior to his own, and which he rendered more luminous by draw- ing whatever was possible from men and manners. In conversing with Dr. Elliotson some time since, I was glad to find he took a similar view of the merits and originality of this man. It is his opinion that we have heretofore neglected Gall for Spurzheim to our disadvantage. He sees a sententiousness in Gall's writings, a truth, a life, COLLOQUY II. 43 which he does not discover in those of the pupil, and has determined upon shewing how much they are to be pre- ferred, how great is the claim which Gall has upon the phrenological world, and how much of what is, in reality, his, has been assigned to Spurzheim, who, instead of being the originator, is merely the propounder. This is a laudable object, as we are unwilling that men should wear wreaths to which they have no right— wreaths plucked from the brow of the proper and successful owner. (44) COLLOQUY III. The Professor presented himself to me this time unexpectedly. Sitting alone in deep meditation at mid- night, when my little family had retired to rest, the fire burning briskly, the lamp brightly, and a deathlike still- ness prevailed, I turned to reach a book on the constitu- tion of mind, when, lo ! I espied my friend. Anticipating my object, and, as it would seem, knowing, by some unaccountable mystery, the bent of my thoughts, he, without the least ceremony, immediately pursued the subject on which I was dwelling. STEWART. Think you not it is an omission on the part of phre- nologists, to disregard the commonly received notions of the nature of mind ? I would not wish you to give cre- dence to every thing in the poet's song, or the historian's page, as they often give unfaithful portraits of man. The one may present you with high- wrought images of mental excellence or mental deformity, sometimes to give vivacity, and life, and energy to their delineations, a boldness to their fiction, an interest to their narrative, a euphony to their numbers ; while the other, from some religious or political prejudice, some partial or illiberal views of human nature, may furnish a description of COLLOQUY III. 45 manners, habits, and modes of thought far removed from the truth. You glean but little from the long-trodden field — is it because you find it comparatively barren ? You leave almost untouched whatever we have gathered into our garner. Though you have had free access, you deign not to enter, as though in the qualities of the food it con- tains, there was something pernicious and deleterious. You have, of course, your own reasons for thus abstain- ing, for thus forsaking that temple to which so many offerings have been made, and to which so many con- genial spirits have bowed for many ages past. Wherever the fountain of truth is, there I wish you to drink. I would fain lead you from that which is made turbid by error ; much more from one whose impurity would reflect dis- credit on the character of a nation so renowned for its philosophy, or rob it of any portion of that virtue it is known to possess. PHRENOLOGIST. We desire to give as faithful a portrait of the mind as Hogarth did of the features ; yet we wish not to see it under so many contortions and disadvantages. We have not neglected the theories of others wilfully, or from bigotry. We have made use of every material supplied by our predecessors that was likely to advance our cause. In the society of the mentalists, among whom you stood foremost and ranked high, nothing but reason, that subtle and subverting faculty, was made the anchor of faith — the link by which such a society was bound together, and on which it depended for support. STEWART. There have been three reigns in England remarkable for the progress of literature. These were the time of 46 COLLOQUY III. Elizabeth, of Anne, and the Regent. In the first we had Shakspeare and Spenser ; in the second Dry den and Pope ; in the third Byron, Scott, and the whole constellation of political geniuses. These are by some persons deemed Augustan ages. I scarcely know in which metaphysics flourished most. PHRENOLOGIST. There have been periods in the history of the world when one age more than another produced men of genius. Many persons have attempted to account for this circum- stance, but few have succeeded in settling the question satisfactorily. The Abbe du Bos was inclined to believe that it depended upon physical more than moral causes. The matter appears to me easily solved by supposing it completely accidental, be it physical, or be it moral. A master spirit arises who stimulates others to exertion, and thus occasions this peculiar time, as the Abbe says, " in which a certain spirit of perfection sheds itself on the inhabitants of a particular country." How apt is the mind to lie inert and indolent if there be no great incitements to call forth its powers. We see the lethargy that fell on the ancient Greeks when the great stimulus to their exertions was taken from them. Man is an emulative being ; he is also envious ; either of these capacities will call forth his energies ; but he must first have something to emulate, something to envy. The subject may be the reputation of a great and powerful genius then stirring the whole literary or scientific world ; man admires and wishes to imitate, and endeavours to excel that which he admires. This spirit of rivalry draws forth a latent genius, which is not necessarily active. The great men of the age die and leave a blank, and perhaps no other enterprising and powerful spirit springs up to quicken and animate the COLLOQUY III. 47 next generation; and thus does this " same spirit seem to withdraw itself after having rendered two or three gene- rations more perfect than the preceding or following ones." It is doubtful whether, as the Abbe insinuates, ' c there are times in which men of the same country are born with greater capacity and wit than at other times." There may be the same amount of mental power, though it be not elicited : this is most probable. Experience has developed to us a fact which no assertion can divest of its truth. It is that the most trifling circumstance may influence and rouse the mind of man. Nor is it less obvious that seasons occur in which that influence is more likely to be imparted. STEWART. Villeius Paterculus takes a similar view of this matter : he says, " Emulation cherishes genius : one while envy, another while admiration, stimulates endeavours after excellence ; and whatever is aimed at with the most earnest effort, is carried to the highest perfection. It is difficult to continue long at the point of perfection ; and then what cannot advance, naturally falls off: and as at first we are animated to overtake those whom we think before us, so when we have despaired either of getting beyond them, or being equal with them, our inclination languishes with our hope ; it ceases to pursue what it cannot reach ; and quitting matter which others have already occupied, it looks out for something new : neglecting that in which we cannot be eminent, we search for some other object, on which to employ our endeavours after excellence. The consequence is, that this frequent and fickle tran- sition from one art to another is the greatest obstacle to perfection." Some objections may be urged against these remarks: in the main, however they are correct, one great 48 COLLOQUY III. proof of one genius stimulating another is the fact that any particular classes of men have existed as contem- poraries, or about the same periods. Look at our English historians. There are Jortin, Lyttleton, Goldsmith, Hume, Gibbon, and Robertson, and Mitford : passing to our poets we find in the last century a galaxy perhaps never equalled in number in any one century. The same with our critics and our artists, our men of learning, our orators, our statesmen, our philosophers. Under Augustus there were bright stars in the horizon of literature, and some of a magnitude which no succeeding age has perhaps surpassed. In France too there were poets almost contemporary with one another — Corneille, Racine, and Moliere — names which will survive most others in French literature. The last century was a glorious British era ; the most glorious of any, perhaps, that has been known in these dominions. There was a renovation of that spirit, which had been struggling for pre-eminence in many past ages. The seventeenth was a remarkable century, but the eighteenth outstript it. The master-spirits of these ages were stimu- lants to each other and their minor contemporaries, and never was there, perhaps, so mighty an inundation of doctrines of the mind as in this and the last century. Before then we had a Bacon and a Locke as champions in the cause of truth, as leading characters in the acquisition of whatever concerns the constitution of the mind ; but latterly we have had improvements, and the institution of principles, in which by-gone days appear to have essentially failed. I allude not to any supposed advan- tages attaching themselves to phrenology, but to doctrines which depend on grounds of a different nature. Opposed to Bacon, Locke, Malibranche, Kaimes, Descartes, Hart- ley, Priestley, Reid, Brown, Beattie, and a host of others in their line of mentalism, there stood Gall and Spurz- COLLOQUY III. 49 heim, with their few and comparatively unknown disci- ples. It is true the former were the promulgators of theories long established ; while the latter, apparent inno- vators of fixed doctrines, constituted a new sect, whose object has been to break down bulwarks erected for many- centuries, and constructed by hands the boast of Eng- land. Though, however, they may be consecrated by age — though they may be regarded with such veneration and respect as, at first sight, may render all interpolations indiscreet, I never considered them so durable and im- perishable as to withstand the ravages of time, or so sanctified as to deem all encroachments upon them as sacrilege. PHRENOLOGIST. To be inimical to the doctrines propounded by these men without substantial reasons, would be an evi- dence of weakness rather than of wisdom. We are bound to respect their opinions, and tolerate the principles they promulgated, until weighty evidence can be adduced against them. As far as demonstration is concerned, observation will always be more than a counterpoise to simple reason, be it conducted on ever so logical a prin- ciple. With you and other mentalists, metaphysical argument or logical deduction has ever constituted your main support. With us, little else than observation is admitted as the groundwork of our faith. Of the advan- tage of observation over argument based only on human reason, there can be no doubt : — now, if by observation we can give an explicit account of mind, such as is consistent with nature, such as is in accordance with Scripture, and such as experience warrants, how much stronger is our testimony than yours, in proof of mind being of the character we describe. 50 COLLOQUY III. STEWART. If observation will establish your claim to public notice, and give you a precedence for which it would be folly in us to contend, then all former disquisitions must be vain. Doctrines founded on observation, on deduc- tions drawn from the visible part of creation, are certainly to be preferred to such as are constituted of abstract rea- soning alone. But the question at issue is, whether the principles of your doctrine have their foundation in nature, and whether the inferences at which you have arrived are legitimate. There is one point which I have always regarded as particularly favourable to the phre- nological cause ; and this is the disinterestedness of those who have ventured to uphold it. Excepting phreno- logical quacks, a person risks the loss of his character as a man of sense, and gains nothing by becoming one of its disciples. New systems are inviting; the mind, ever panting after novelty, is attracted by a system which exercises the fancy, if not the curiosity. When, how- ever, the uncertain state in which mentalists have left their own theories, and the restless desire there is in man for knowledge, particularly in a matter of such import- ance as the economy of a principle such as mind, is taken into consideration, it would be folly to wonder at specu- lation, or at any attempt being made to arrive at the truth. Next to the principles of religion, those of mind claim priority for our attention., Considered properly, they may be made highly conducive to our best interests. They involve Omnipotent design, extending to the cre- ation of the whole earth. The multiplicity of their relations is beyond all conception. Regarding them as principles intimately connected with all nature — with sin — with virtue — with death — with judgment — with r COLLOQUY III. 51 futurity— with God, we must regard them in the light I have pronounced, as one of the greatest subjects for our contemplation. Recognizing them as principles by which all terrestrial things might be brought under some degree of subjection — contemplating them in all their variety — their union with the body, their impelling tendency to co-operate with all existing things, their diversified powers of action in thought, feeling, imagination, and invention — a prospect is presented to which no limits are fixed ; yet the nature of these principles, or the secret means by which all these things are achieved, are too mysterious to be satisfactorily explained, or clearly com- prehended. PHRENOLOGIST. True — and while viewing it thus, we are compelled, by an almost irresistible impulse, to enquire into the marvellous design the Creator had in view in creating the principle of mind. This design is very manifest. It was the happiness of a being capable of experiencing joy; and what was the joy it was destined to experience ? — communion with God and Nature. Wisdom and good- ness joined hand in hand to create mind with advantages like these annexed to it, and unbounded benevolence alone sustains it. Mind stands pre-eminently forward in the economy of nature. Excepting the wonderful schemes of creation and redemption, we see nowhere so full and marvellous a display of might — nowhere such a mani- festation of goodness. Revelation unfolds to us, in part, the scheme involved in its creation ; reason supplies the rest. The object of the Creator, it is true, has been greatly frustrated. The intelligence he gave, has been perverted — the virtue he bestowed, corrupted. According to the original design, however, man was created happy, e 2 52 COLLOQUY III. because he was perfectly holy, and exceedingly great, be- cause he was made in the image of his Creator. Pure and fervent in feeling, exalted and powerful in intellect, he was fit to hold intercourse with Omnipotence, whose desire it was to communicate the influence of his own attributes. He next designed that this creature, whom he pronounced the lord of creation, should live for ever, and feel for ever, the power of his own perfections, the extent of his mercy and benevolence, the unbounded value of his protection and love. STEWART. To shew, moreover, the surpassing value of the mind — to instance the love of God to man in causing his mercy to triumph over his anger, he has blotted out the original transgression of that mind, created according to such a benevolent and enlarged scheme, and this, even though he had passed by angels, making no provision for their recovery. PHRENOLOGIST. Seeing the great bearing of our existence on the fulfil- ment of a design alike infinite and wise, it is roost evident that, while contemplating the vastness of human exist- ence, we should not suffer ourselves to separate the simple idea of existence, under its various modifications, from the design which attends it in all its diversities — i. e. we should never separate the design of creation from the work itself. Without design, without some greater end to be accomplished than has yet been achieved, creation would fall short of the grandeur, beauty, and utility which we should otherwise attach to it. Since, therefore, the world, animate and inanimate, was created COLLOQUY III. 53 for man — since Nature, in her stupendous whole, which is but an effect, and only another name for an effect — since every mountain, and valley, and beast, and herb, the orb of day, and perhaps the whole planetary system, were produced to serve an object immediately referable to man — and since all will one day pass away, and be no more seen in consequence of man — since, indeed, God's design in creating the world was to make it the abode of immortal spirits, and for the gratification of beings capable of recognizing his goodness, and contemplating the extent of his power, and adoring his perfections, as neither the earth nor the brute was ever capable of acknowledging or partaking of the perfections of their Creator — it is evident he had a design, an end to fulfil, highly interesting, and alone interesting to us, because our being, our very destinies, and ours alone, are imme- diately concerned in the event. It is evident, I say, that this design affects us most materially, simply because our Creator has so ordered it, that it might be fulfilled to our highest satisfaction, our eternal felicity. He first created the world for us, supplying it with animals, fruits, and herbs adapted to administer to our happiness and comfort ; and after all, rather than his purpose should be frus- trated, he gave up his only Son as a ransom for our sins, to wash away the stain which the insubordination and guilt of man had occasioned. STEWART. There can be no doubt that the noblest work of the Deity was the creation of the human mind ; and it is equally indisputable that the noblest effort of that mind is the contemplation of its Divine original. In every thought, and invention, and sentiment, we trace, so far 54 COLLOQUY III. as the power goes, not so its direction, the work of infi- nite wisdom. Every reflection is a shadow of might; and that man should be able to communicate his thoughts to man — that man, through prayer and thanksgiving, should be able to hold communion with the great eternal Jehovah, are not the least wonderful parts of the great scheme of creation ; but that man should ever have been able to plan, to devise, to set his imagination and mind at work contrary to the desire and object of his Creator, and assume a dominion which it was never intended he should possess, and for which and through which he exchanged bitterness for joy, sin for holiness, are the most remark- able phenomena respecting the history of mankind, per- fectly irreconcilable and incomprehensible to our limited powers of thought. To dismiss this subject, at least for the present, it is time to recur to the nature of a prin- ciple destined for such high privileges, and on account of which so much Divine mercy has been displayed. To define its nature is out of the power of beings like our- selves, who consist alone of it, much less of you, whose thoughts are not allowed to take full wing, being bur- dened by the flesh ; farther than conceive of it by com- parison you cannot. Not understanding how any thing can exist without properties, powers, and laws different in kind and operation, and some secret phenomena which, in the whole, constitute what the metaphysicians term a substance, you believe that of such must be the nature of mind : to this I can see no plausible objection. Mind is an independent principle, because it may exist apart from the body. It manifests, when separated, various qualities in extreme vigour, and, at the same time, purity ; it is therefore a congeries of attributes, which, of themselves, form a wonderful principle of creation. COLLOQUY III. PHRENOLOGIST. 55 With the manifestations we become better acquainted : by them alone we judge of its primary qualities. They produce effects evident to our senses, and within the sphere of our comprehension. Whatever is instinctive, intellectual, moral, and religious is mental. All is of mind. To this declaration I am aware some objection may be raised ; for what, it might be asked, is the soul ? The brute possesses mind, and most of those faculties which we ascribe to man ; and yet the mind, with them, is not soul. If, argue some persons — if the faculties which are supposed to be in the exclusive possession of man, be soul, it is unmetaphysical to identify them with mind, which must be different from soul, by reason of animals lower than man enjoying its privileges. Some persons are of opinion that such faculties as are now made exclusively to belong to man, are not, of them- selves, that is, in their present known sphere of action, sufficient to constitute any thing so superlatively excel- lent and powerful as the soul. To enter into any dis- cussions concerning these points is not my intention, it being quite certain that their adjustment is neither neces- sary to the enquiry in view, nor at all likely to be effected with the confined notions we, at present, enter- tain of the human economy. The schoolmen of ancient Greece and Rome took an interest in this question, but did not succeed in bringing their speculations to a favour- able issue. Be the soul what it may, we cannot be well deceived about the qualities of mind viewed in a phreno- logical point of view. I have already decided that this view claims precedence over that of the metaphysical school, which has now nearly passed away, to give place 56 COLLOQUY III. to a newer and better system. Whatever merit may be attached to the philosophers of this school, on account of the deep thought and ingenuity accompanying their dis- quisitions, it is evident they can never be looked upon, now that the brain is known to be absolutely necessary to the manifestations of the mind, with that degree of ap- probation and merit which was formerly bestowed upon them in consequence of their not having considered the brain sufficiently in relation to the science. To suppose the mind could neither act nor exist independently of the brain — to suppose it could not be considered abstractedly from the brain in every particular, was, in their opinion, erroneous ; and how much more so then must that phi- losophy or doctrine have been, which makes the brain so far instrumental, as to be appropriated, in different parts, to different mental faculties ? A doctrine of this latter kind is fatal to that promulgated by these metaphysicians : it is, nevertheless, the true doctrine, and therefore must supersede every other. The different parts or organs of the brain to which different faculties belong, are thirty-five in number, con- sisting of those mentioned in the classification. It is believed by the phrenologist, that each of these organs is the instrument of an innate faculty of the mind, and the medium by which that faculty is manifested to the world. The names of these organs are not very applicable in many instances, but, with few exceptions, the most explanatory the English language affords. The organs, agreeably to their several uses, are called either intellectual, moral, or animal : the former lie in the fore part of the head, the second in the superior part, and the latter in the posterior and inferior part, as may be seen in the maps affixed to the classification. To comprehend the nature or essence of mind, the COLLOQUY III. 57 first cause of thought and every species of mental action, is, as you justly observe, impossible. We, nevertheless, understand something of its manifestations, and thereby judge of its constitution. From the earliest ages all civi- lized nations have recognized in man two orders of created beings, spirit and matter ; but the latter, so far as regards its nature, is no better understood than the constitution or nature of the former. It is also well known that these respective orders of beings cannot exist without immutable and innate laws, powers, and properties. What are called the faculties of the mind are innate and immutable pro- perties — properties which cannot be separated from each other, nor undergo any radical change. To enter into any lengthened details concerning this subject is not necessary to the explanation of phrenology. It appears, however, that philosophers have not been sufficiently attentive to the essential or innate faculties, when they have spoken of the manifestations. They have confounded actions, which are merely the results of those faculties, with the faculties themselves ; in other words, they have mistaken the primary, essential, or innate properties or faculties, for those qualities, modes of action, or functions which are not necessary either to the essence or existence of the principle or substance — mind. The properties which establish the growth, and preserve the being of animals and plants, are unchangeable, determined, and special properties of the principle of life; and the properties from which the mental manifestations emanate, are equally so. STEWART. No deviation can take place in the nature of either matter or mind. The circumstance of there being differ- ent kinds of either, does not alter the nature of either. 58 COLLOQUY III. Matter cannot assume a spiritual capacity, nor can mind assume a material capacity, under any consideration. The brain, modelled, refined, and beautiful as it is in the way of organization, is, by virtue of its nature, as inca- pable of producing any thing mental as iron, wood, or stone. PHRENOLOGIST. It is, however, better fitted to act in concert with spirit ; and, by a law of nature, is intended to be instru- mental to the manifestation of spirit. The great question at issue is, whether the several innate faculties of the mind are manifested to the world by one organ, the brain, as a simple undivided instrument, or whether each faculty has a separate organ in that brain for the accomplishment of its special and destined purposes. Although it has been supposed that the mind does not reside in the brain, and that, even if it do reside there, the brain is not required instrumentally, it is so far demonstrated by the most experienced writers, by reason and analogy, that the brain is not only the seat but the organ of the mind, that I need adduce no arguments here in support of the fact. Admitting, without argument for the present, that each faculty has a particular organ for its especial service, the manifestations of which are not performed by any other organ, for this is the essence of phrenology — and admit- ting the several faculties to be innate and inseparable,* we may enquire what is meant by ideas, sensations, and other actions of the mind, respecting which the early, as well as the more modern philosophers, have written so much. Some of these men taught the doctrine of innate ideas — * It is impossible for any innate faculty of an essence, principle, or substance in nature to be separated, and the rest to remain in existence. , COLLOQUY III. 59 a very common doctrine at one period ; and, at the same time, considered those qualities to be innate which, in fact, are not so, but which are rather the products, results, or manifestations of the faculties, mediately or immedi- ately produced. STEWART. It was, moreover, thought by a few, that these ideas are always brought into a state of activity by the external senses. Aristotle believed them to be produced entirely by the senses. I need hardly say that such an hypothesis as this is now looked on as absurd. It involves great con- tradiction: it implies that mind, instead of being an essential principle, and derived from no created thing, is wholly dependent on the perfection of the senses, and the nature of the impressions made upon them by the external world; — that it is, in short, a mixture of effects obtained from a reciprocal influence exercised between our senses and external material objects. Bishop Berkeley, on the other hand, did not believe in the existence of any world besides a world of ideas; and therefore denied the possibility of proving the entity of any thing external to himself. The Bishop was not singular in his belief; and an hypothesis of this kind, absurd as it is, has been adopted by later writers, and is received even at the present day. Notwithstanding the existing diversity of opinions, in respect to the constitution of the human mind, there can be no doubt we obtain knowledge through two sources— the senses, and those innate and internal faculties which are independent of the senses* The mind is naturally conscious, and naturally capable of thinking, without the mutual aid of the senses ; and this capacity it derives from such faculties as are, by nature, capable of reflecting. 60 COLLOQUY III. The ideas obtained from external impressions made upon the senses are as incidental as the impressions themselves, and therefore cannot be innate ; for innate beings, and it signifies not of what kind they are, cannot be produced, although they may be brought into operation, by an object or a circumstance that is of an accidental character. The senses, useful and necessary as they are to give us know- ledge of the external world in its beautiful and unbounded variety, are nevertheless incapacitated to experience a consciousness and belief of existence. PHRENOLOGIST. They are simply inlets to the conscious faculties, which are internal, and without which there would be no con- sciousness, no impressions, no ideas, no manifestation of any description, even though the senses existed.* The faculties, says Spurzheim, which perceive the im- pressions, and conceive the ideas, are not innate. Thus the ideas of a plant, stone, or animal are innate ; but these objects make impressions on our senses, which again pro- duce sensations or ideas in our minds, and both these senses and the faculties of our mind are innate. In the same manner the sensations and ideas of external and accidental events are nowise innate; and in general no determined action of any faculty, but the faculty itself, is innate. The propensity of love, not the subject of love ; the faculty of speaking, not the peculiar language; the faculty of comparing and judging, not the determinate judgment ; the faculty of poetry, not the peculiar poem, * In alluding to the senses here, I refer to those of the eye, ear, nose, tongue, and organs of touch, and not to the particular acts of consciousness in the mind caused by their instrumen- tality. COLLOQUY III. 61 are innate. Thus there is a great difference between innate faculties and innate ideas and sensations. The doctrine of innate faculties, of which the early philoso- phers knew comparatively nothing, and upon which Gall and Spurzheim threw much light, is becoming more gene- rally understood and received. A proper distinction, however, is not made, even in these days, between the faculties and their manifestations. So necessary is this distinction, that no correct system of mental philosophy can be established without it; and thus it is that the theories of these early writers are far from being satisfac- tory. In any subject so abstruse as that of this philosophy, great difficulty must be experienced in comprehending a difference between the faculty and its function. Unless this be done — unless we duly understand which is cause and which is effect, it is in vain to seek for just conclu- sions. Spurzheim proved the existence of innate or primary faculties in mankind by the constancy of the human character; by the uniformity of the nature of man at all times and in all countries ; by the tendency of natural genius ; by the peculiarity of every species ; by the determinate character of each of the sexes; by the peculiarities of every individual ; by the relation between the organization and the manifestation of the respective faculties ; and, finally, by the circumstance that man is a created being. STEWART. Instinctive faculties, and mental faculties which are commonly termed physical, are synonymous. Instinct implies both inclination and action, and is the result of these innate properties. The power that produces volun- tary motion — the means whereby instinctive inclination is gratified, is also inbred ; and the desire of gratification is 62 COLLOQUY III. so natural, that it must be considered an essential quality also. This power and this desire are perceived through all animal nature : without them animals would not exist. In this power resides that quality which is termed will, another essential quality of the mind. PHRENOLOGIST. The faculties which are common to man, to the inferior animals, or to both, are equally innate, immutable, and inseparable ; and it is not because there is superiority of feeling and of understanding in man, that the faculties of neither can be determined and stable. This superiority arises from the superiority of the mental constitution of man ; from the faculties being, for wise and special pur- poses, ennobled in man ; from the higher and more ex- clusive properties in human nature having power, by their laws of association, which are more complex and dignified, to influence and direct those common to man and brutes. To conclude — Without innate faculties, laws, and powers, nothing could be stable — nothing, in fact, could exist. Such things as chance properties — properties re- sulting from some accidental circumstance — cannot help to constitute any part of nature ; neither are innate pro- perties, subject, as far as their entity is concerned, to the will and caprice of man. Without them, indeed, there would be no will. It is by innateness of faculties, mental and vital, that each kind of animal preserves its nature so unchangeable as it is, notwithstanding the influence and diversity of surrounding events, and the constant succession of supplies and wastes carried on in the sys- tem. Every faculty, therefore, the organ of which is found on the phrenological map or bust, is an innate pro- perty of the mind, exists in every human being, and was COLLOQUY III. 63 created and assigned to mankind for wise purposes, how much soever the tendency of some of them may seem to contradict the assertion. It is reasonable to conceive, whatever revolution the constitution of man from his original state might have experienced, that not one new faculty, which is of an innate kind, has been added to the mind of man since the fall. We must not suppose that, because evil has been introduced, it is necessarily an essential, an innate faculty of the mind. The evil that springs from the mind, and it certainly cannot spring from any thing except the mind, results from an abuse in the exercise of the mental faculties. It may indeed be shewn, by entering more particularly into this subject, that every organ serves a purpose in the human economy, which is both salutary and necessary to man during his earthly pilgrimage, if at least it be properly directed; which, by the will, the reason, the consciousness of good and evil existing within us, may be the case to a great extent. They must have been created for a good purpose — a purpose calculated to answer an end that shall con- tribute not merely to the happiness of man here, but to his glory hereafter. (64) COLLOQUY IV. STEWART. It is objected, that the classification of phrenologists contains too many organs, or that there are more faculties enumerated on the map than can be necessary, or even satisfactorily proved to exist. Others, in the meantime, object to there being so few organs, and say that there are not enough to account for the various manifestations which take place. PHRENOLOGIST. In respect to there being too many organs, the phre- nologist is prepared with a great number of facts to shew, that all the organs are so well and fully established, as to place the existence of either one of them beyond doubt. As to there not being a sufficient number of organs, we have to consider the fact of Nature having power, by reason of her laws of association, to produce actions as the effects of a connection between different faculties and different objects. It would, moreover, be contracting our ideas of nature to imagine that any one innate faculty had no power to produce more than one action. Admit- ting the connection, and that different kinds or degrees of action or function may result from either faculty, it is COLLOQUY IV. 65 not difficult to conceive that, in order to the existence of the mental manifestations, be they as numerous as they may, enough organs and innate faculties are already dis- covered to answer the purposes of nature. By way of illustrating this subject, we may quote the words of Dr. Spurzheim, who says, " seeing is always seeing, but what an infinite number of objects may be seen ? Hearing is always hearing, and so on as to every external sense. It is the same with the internal faculties: constructing is always constructing, but what an infinite number of objects may be constructed ? Are not twenty-four letters of the alphabet sufficient to compose all imaginable words? The muscles of the face are not very numerous, yet the face of almost all individuals presents different physiog- nomial traces. There are few primitive sounds ; there are few primitive colours ; there are only ten signs of num- bers ; but what an infinite number of combinations does not each of these present ? There are probably thirty- three special faculties*. Now if we consider all possible combinations of thirty-three faculties, and their mani- festations, it would be indeed surprising if we did not observe such a number of modified faculties, c or func- tions/ Hence we do not multiply the organs any more than is necessary, but we follow determinate principles in establishing each of them." If each faculty produced only one manifestation, and if no manifestation resulted from any kind of association, it is evident there would be no more functions than there are faculties, which, agreeably to the system of phrenology, do not exceed thirty-five. As many of the manifestations are purely accidental, the results of external agents operating on one or more of the *At the time Spurzheim wrote this, there were only thirty - three organs discovered or established. 66 COLLOQUY IV. internal faculties — and as each faculty acts in different ways — it follows, as a matter of course, that there are not so many innate faculties as there are manifestations. So great is the capacity of some of the faculties, that they are supposed to learn, understand, think, desire, perceive, judge, will, imagine, attend, and remember. They are likewise subject to pain, pleasure, passion, aversion, enthusiasm, habit, sympathy, taste, and affection. It is, however, exceedingly difficult to say when these qualities arise from one faculty, and when they arise from two or more faculties acting together. They may, doubtless, emanate from either source. Now the faculties, by their constitution, may individually possess an inherent power to act in various ways and degrees, which, for the sake of brevity, we may call functions or manifestations, without exerting that power so as to produce a result : in other words, the power may not be called on by any circum- stance, internal or external, for the development of the specific authority which it possesses. When a faculty is active, the best criterion of which is the size of its organ, it more easily enters into either of the functions for which it is capacitated. An influence is exerted over it in this matter, however, by the kind of education it might have received, by the degree of controul it may be under from other organs, by the peculiar constitution of the organ itself, by the occupation of the individual, and by a variety of other circumstances, the nature of which it is needless to mention. Exercise invariably increases the activity of the faculties ; and the more active the facul- ties are, the more likely are they to manifest themselves in every capacity which they individually enjoy ; and as the kind of activity in which they may be more particu- larly engaged, determines the actions, the manners — in fact, the whole character of persons, it becomes necessary COLLOQUY IV. 67 that those faculties should be most exercised which are capable of serving the most honourable purposes in life. Should a brain be badly formed, in regard to the relative proportion between the propensities and higher faculties, excessive application of the latter may cause such a super- abundant attention of the mind to rational pursuits, as to subdue the natural prevailing tendency of the former. According to the kind of cause which brings a faculty into operation, and it may be so brought from an endless variety of causes, so will be the result as to its being agreeably or disagreeably affected. A faculty agreeably excited, may be so from a mere pleasing emotion to the highest state of ecstacy : a faculty, disagreeably affected, may experience pain from the simple state of displeasure to anger and the most heart-rending grief. The faculty of physical love or amativeness is the most susceptible of these different affections — these different modes and de- grees of activity. The functions manifested by either of the external senses are simple acts of the mind; but those kinds of judgment, thought, and other functions which require the mutual influence or co-operation of more than one organ for their production, are complex actions. Faculties excite each other, and especially those which are allied in their nature ; and those so allied are, singular to say, situated together in the brain. This alli- ance and contiguity are most beautiful provisions : they enhance the great wisdom which we see displayed in the formation and adaptation of the brain. STEWART. The law of connexion subsisting between the faculties of mind and the tendency to associate, or act in concert, to promote some end for which individually they may be capacitated, are other provisions in which we see Divine f 2 68 COLLOQUY IV. wisdom reflected. By such an association all the designs of creation are preserved and carried on. There is a law, too, by which one faculty cannot act, even in the most simple manner, without being in connexion with other faculties, it being impossible, as you premised, for the faculties to exist separately. There is also another law necessary to the explanation of this subject — namely, that which associates mind with matter, whether we con- fine that matter to the brain or to the whole body of the external material world. The instance of mind asso- ciating itself with external objects, and receiving from them, in their magnitude, their minuteness, their variety, and their beauty, the greatest portion of happiness, is another exemplification of that Providence which is brooding over the face of the earth, to enrich it with every store that may contribute to the comfort of its creatures. Were it not for a law of this latter kind, no cognizance of these objects, no ideas of things concerning the external world, could exist. The more correct the power of association is, the more correct will be the image or impression presented to the mind; and the more favourably developed the several organs are, the more correct and legitimate will be the ideas, the judg- ment, and the understanding, formed by their combined influence and operation. PHRENOLOGIST. An active state of one organ, moreover, often pro- duces activity in another, when an association of ideas results. Without reciprocity — without mutual influence and excitation, energy and operation, man would be a curious being, weak and impotent at least. If, for in- stance, the organ of comparison were small, and that of causality very large, there would, perhaps, be a concep- COLLOQUY IV. 69 tion of an object without any power of comparing it with other things properly. The poet, with the organ of ideality to give him vivid and sublime ideas, would be wanting in clearness and correctness without the organs of imitation and comparison. An idea may emanate from a single organ ; but a combination of ideas, which pro- duces complicated results, must spring from a combina- tion of organs. It is not the nature of every organ or faculty, however, to produce ideas. Those faculties which lie so contiguous to each other, and which are alike in nature, more readily associate in action. Occasionally there is an association between all the faculties of every order; at least, they may all combine in operation, some circumstance calling all of them into operation at the same period. According, however, to the faculties which do combine in operation, so will be the kind of ideas, conceptions, views, or opinions that result. Some of the internal faculties, says Spurzheim, make man act ; while others modify, assist, and direct our actions : some pro- cure for us a relative knowledge of external beings, and others are destined to bring all the faculties into harmony, in order to constitute unity. It will be inferred, from the preceding observations, that a function may be either simple or complex ; the simple function arising from the action of a single organ ; the complex function from many organs acting in concert. As there are many actions of the mind which do not arise simply from any particular organ, but from a combination — and as actions arise from an association between the faculties and the external world under an endless variety of circumstances — it fol- lows, even if there were nothing else to prove the fact, that ideas, which are only actions of the mind, are not innate, and also that actions have not separate organs in 70 COLLOQUY IV. the brain. If, moreover, each mode of action, in which a faculty is capable of manifesting itself — such for instance as perception, memory, or desire — were an inherent quality of the mind, and belonged essentially to a particular organ, the same as the faculty of individuality, benevolence, and colour, it is quite certain we should have as many different kinds of perception, memory, and desire, as there are things to be perceived, remembered, and desired. Some of the early philosophers, not having had any idea of special faculties, classed under two heads, understanding and will, such faculties as they thought belonged to mind. To these faculties, which they erroneously deemed essen- tial, they assigned the power of acting under such various modifications as to include the several kinds of mani- festations which the special or innate faculties are alone capable of producing. The common qualities of under- standing, will, imagination, and judgment, as viewed by them, are wrong. The meaning of the terms, which are in general use, the world fully comprehends, and every useful purpose is served ; but to the mentalist it is neces- sary to know what is primary and what is secondary, which is cause and which is effect: and this end the science of phrenology is particularly well calculated to answer. The different opinions entertained by different persons of the same thing, are attributable to the minds of those persons being differently modified. There would not, however, be any modifications if the brains of those persons were constituted alike, and every circumstance operating on these minds was the same. The different modifications result from different combinations ; and the various modifications of the same faculty in different persons, is owing to difference of temperament, consti- tution of the organ, and other causes too numerous to COLLOQUY IV. 71 mention. Allowing the mind to be influenced by the organization, and these several other causes, we cannot wonder at the great diversities of talent, or at the dif- ferent modifications of the mental faculties which are exhibited in the world. . ( 72) COLLOQUY V. Since my last interview with the Professor, I had taken several rambles in the hope of meeting him by the way. These were in the most secluded spots ; but he deigned not to discover himself to me. Often, I feared, he had resolved no longer to hold any converse with one so little calculated to enter into the workings of his exalted understanding — one so far estranged from that heavenly temperament of mind which he was accustomed to enjoy. I trembled to think of this as a cause of his neglect ; for where, if so, was my hope of his renewing our acquaintance? I could not but think his object laudable, and that his intentions were to lead my thoughts and desires into an undefiled channel, where virtue and philosophy flow in uninterrupted purity. But why he had withheld his presence from me so long I could ill define. It was, perhaps, that my mind had not been in a proper mood to receive him. As he had a near con- nexion with Heaven, he was of course prompted by holy desires, and under the guidance of a holy Being. Thus reflecting, it was a natural question what had been the frame of my mind lately ? I taxed my thoughts, and reviewed the tone of my affections ; this self-examination shewed me they had been unusually lax, vain, and idle. Whence, then, was to be expected so high a boon as the COLLOQUY V. 73 conversation, in persona, of an inhabitant of the invisible world — one of such superior mental acquisitions and endowments as my visitor had evidenced during his occasional short abodes on this earth ? This retrospect satisfied me that I had not deserved so great a privilege, and it required but little philosophy to persuade myself that this was the chief reason my superhuman, or supernatural friend had been so sparing of his visits. Worldly events often occur, as blessings in disguise, to give the mind fresh and more virtuous incli- nations : previously to this effect, they so assail man as to disturb his repose; watchful and anxious nights suc- ceed days of perturbation and excitement. He knows not what it is to be at ease. There is an evil tormentor constantly haunting him ; and whence does it come ? — from the world with its subtile and engrossing vanities. It is from external causes that his peace is broken, from pride, and envy, and covetousness. These raise him enemies who use every scheme and every art to convey to his neighbours and friends unfavourable and unfair im- pressions of his character. The fawning of the lamb, the obsequiousness of the hypocrite, are too often ex- changed for backbitings and revilings. How prominently do such ignoble assailants stand forward to cut short the comforts, and taint the best affections of man ! To be unmoved by them is wisdom; but where is stoicism enough in any philosopher to check their growth, and feel not, physically or morally, the bitter effects they infuse ? Whence proceeds the unhappiness of man more directly than from qualities of this kind, which exercise un- bounded sway over the whole economy of human nature, blighting its prosperity, chilling the glow of amity, and separating man from man ? Fearful and destructive is their authority. Draw them forth in all their nakedness 74 COLLOQUY V. as they exist in each man, and in what hideous deformity would they not appear ! — monsters without a redeeming attribute. Walk whithersoever one may, one cannot escape their evil consequences — tread wheresoever one will, they are sure to be encountered. They are like evil spirits, against the access of which there is no bar. Reli- gion, modesty, and the whole host of virtuous inclinations are no safeguards : they will surmount every rampart, and accost every sentinel, every stranger, and every friend. Whoever ceases to feel the venom which their sting carries with them, is more than a philosopher — he is a Christian, who lives above the world, and is alone able to resist it. There are, however, seasons of rest to all men. In one of these seasons I took my usual walk. Now I found some relief, from the idea of prescience, of an Almighty Being ready to bend his eye towards every one whose heart is inclined towards him, and refuses to drink any longer the poisonous dregs of that bitter cup offered by the world. Seriously bent, I looked to the victory which the grave is destined to achieve, persuaded that it would one day bury in oblivion the violence of the human heart in its social and moral relations, and that the wound, which had been rankling with the poisonous influences of a vain, a deceitful, and a dishonest world, would be healed by a balm of everlasting efficacy. As was common with me, I wandered forth somewhat excited by thoughts of an imaginative cast, yet not divested of a due portion of reason, into the grounds of C. Hemes, Esq., than which, to my eye, there are none more beautiful and picturesque in Lynmouth or its suburbs. They are a combination of nature and art. To do them justice by any description is impossible ; they must be seen to be duly appreciated. The house is situated at the foot of a precipitous hill, or, more properly. COLLOQUY V. 75 a cliff. These grounds occupy the whole of the valley of the West Lyn, which is a somewhat narrow defile, bounded on one side by the rocky and towering cliff before mentioned, and on the other by a luxuriantly wooded hill, upon the summit of which the village of Lynton is situated. Nothing can be more strikingly beautiful than the perfect contrast between these two hills, separated, as it were, by the little romantic valley through which the river forces its way to the sea from the higher ground in the distance. The brook runs nearly close to the house, from which it is separated by the prin- cipal walk, and a small verdant lawn, surrounded by fine evergreen and other shrubs. The chief point of attrac- tion, however, is the river. Piles of rock, of large dimen- sions, which, from time to time, have fallen from the cliff above, form its bed, interrupting the continuous flow of this mountain stream. Sometimes it rushes impetuously over the huge stones — sometimes it is seen descending like a solid mass of crystal, overhung by the dark umbrageous wood. Rustic bridges are here and there thrown across it, conducting the tourist to particular spots where the scene possesses new features, or greater beauty. In the higher parts of the grounds are a hermitage and a summer- house, from whence the most romantic views of the grounds and the sea are seen. Proceeding up the valley by a path cut from the side of the rocky hill, the river assumes a bolder aspect, frequently presenting from one spot three or four little cascades ; the masses of rock being here more abrupt and rugged, the course of the river is more torrentlike and impetuous. After heavy and long- continued rains there is a great swell ; then the foam, the spray, and continuous bellowing of the stream in its rapid descent, have a beautiful effect. At the extre- mity of the valley, about half a mile from the sea, the 76 COLLOQUY V. little path is abruptly terminated by a pile of rock which rises to a great height on either side. From a very narrow inlet between these rocks the river rushes down headlong, forming the most considerable fall in the valley. The wild and picturesque seclusion of this spot, the ceaseless fall of the torrent, the perpendicular rocks covered with ivy, the light and graceful foliage of the mountain-ash which grows here in great luxuriance, the distant sea, the thickly- wooded Lynton hill, the overhanging rocks which the side of the opposite precipice presents, together form a most lovely and sublime scene, to which my pen cannot do justice. Returning by the same path, there is pre- sented a fine view of the channel, which seems almost covered with vessels voyaging to and from Bristol, toge- ther with the white cliffs and lofty hills of the Welch coast. Immediately before the tourist, and crouching, as it were, at the foot of the rocky cliff, which rises 700 feet above the level of the sea, appear the villa and grounds of Mr. Herries, with their smooth walks winding amidst the woods and shrubberies*. By means of a circuitous path, through a plantation of recent growth, a great por- tion of the cliff that yawns so fearfully over the deep- sunk dell, may be climbed. From this road the sea and part of Lynmouth and Lynton are seen to great advan- tage; while the villas which deck the opposite woody bank rather increase than diminish the beauty of the prospect. To me it is a scene of enchantment. Never tiring upon the eye, it loses nothing of the freshness of its loveliness from a constant acquaintance with it. " Ever charming, ever new, " When will the landscape tire the view ? " In storm or sunshine, in winter or summer, it pre- * See Note B. COLLOQUY V. 77 sents a variety and splendour ever fresh, ever welcome. Those who have had no opportunity of seeing this cliff, cannot form an adequate conception of the rugged bold- ness of its front. I have heard it remarked that it is not unlike a part of St. Helena. The rocks of St. Kilda are higher and more stupendous, but have not, perhaps, so fine an effect on the whole. On the highest point of the rock, and immediately at the edge of a projecting part, stands a little summer-house, from whence the prospect is magnificent. The terrific grandeur of this abrupt and rugged promontory, facing, yet receding from the sea beyond the usual distance, is well adapted to inspire proper notions of that Being in whom whatsoever is grand and sublime, formidable and noble, essentially and truly repose. Scarcely less, however, does the opposite hill covered with foliage, in the midst of which jutting rocks here and there raise their grey heads in splendid contrast, attract attention, and draw forth admiration. In my ramble there was an unusual calm and silence ; turning to view a magnificent object, I pondered — When, lo ! a voice the slumb'ring silence broke ; And as the strangely sad, prophetic sound rose to my ear, I started. It was my unearthly visitor. STEWART. Why shrink you at a voice which comes to you in the tone of friendship, and auguring so much good ? PHRENOLOGIST. Fear for a moment scared me ; it seemed like an " echo which ancient fiction has ascribed to the misfortunes of a talkative nymph, whom Juno, in a rage, changed into a voice for having aroused her jealousy, and by the length 78 COLLOQUY V. of her tales (an artifice employed in all times) prevented her fury." STEWART. But do you not know that the very paper which afforded you this information, has likewise declared that it often happens that the echo does not return the sound to the place where it originated — that the nymph does not always make her responses to him who addresses her — and that there have been occasions in which her voice was mistaken by those who heard it ? — which may account for some marvellous stories, and those voices heard in the air, which Rome, built upon seven hills, has so often reckoned in the number of her prodigies. An echo is a reflected sound which vibrates on the ear ; but there is no body sonorous enough to impel my voice, which may be dis- tinguished without any undulatory motions of the air. You were thinking of death, and the unrivalled splendour of that world to which death might introduce you. It is indeed a sad and solemn contemplation. The mis- givings and waverings of the mind are omens of its weakness and incompleteness. We experience none of these falterings, no fallibilities, like you ; but enjoy all the luxuriousness of thought and imagination of a scarcely less than angelic intellect, without passion or impurity of any kind sullying them. You know not what a range Our spirit takes, unconscious of a chain ! To us death is no loss. It " Seems not a blank to me — a loss of all " Those fond sensations — those enchanting dreams , " Which cheat a toiling world from day to day, " And form the whole of happiness it knows. " Death is to me perfection, glory, triumph 1" Thomson. COLLOQUY V. 79 PHRENOLOGIST. Yet I, with all my frigid notions of philosophy, con- template it with terror. The jaws of death form a spectacle at the sight of which all thinking and reflecting men, conscious of an eternity, fully persuaded of the truth of Scripture, must shrink. My fear is nearly equal to such of those philosophers to whom the idea was terrific. I sometimes desire the undaunted heroism and coolness of Hume, instead of the dread of Erasmus, Swift, and Johnson. STEWART. Depend upon it, Sir, this coolness of which you speak, on the part of Hume, was affected. No man so intel- lectual, no man possessing properties by nature which teach him to fear and hope instinctively, could die with- out some consciousness of an eternal existence of happiness or misery ; and with this consciousness, there would be an intermixture of dread, harassing and fearful to the dying infidel. To every person whose faith does not lead him to trust in all that is revealed, there must be, at least, an uncertainty, a contrariety of things and appear- ances which he cannot reconcile. Would this suffer a man, possessed of reason, or any individual with a healthy mind, to live and die collected ? It is to be suspected that a mind unaccustomed to waver, fixed, inflexibly, by infidel persuasions, is nothing less than insane. Nature herself teaches us to doubt, and nothing but the most perfect faith — or, contrariwise, insanity — can dissipate it. Satan himself has no power to extinguish every spark of it. In Voltaire it became, before he died, a flaming fire ; it burst out so furiously as to engender a hope, at one time, of divine mercy being extended to him — a hope 80 COLLOQUY V. which he had endeavoured through life to exclude from his breast. Fear is an inherent passion of the human mind. It is more natural to fear the dispensations of Providence than to acknowledge their usefulness. The blasts of the desert, the billows of the ocean, the storm and the tempest, are objects of terror. Bloomfield, the Suffolk poet, speaking of the doleful peals of thunder, of the accompanying hail, and flashes of lightning in all the fury of a ruthless storm, says that even 44 The frighten' d mastiff from his kennel flies, 44 And cringes at the door with piteous cries. 44 Where's now the trifler ? Where the child of pride ? 41 These are the moments when the heart is tried. 44 Nor lives the man with conscience e'er so clear, " But feels a solemn, reverential fear." If these things awaken fear, how much more shall the idea of the bare possibility of the Scripture being true, and God appearing to us in all his majesty, either as an angry Judge, or as a reconciled Father ! In the former character the infidel must meet him ! " A philosopher/* says Dr. Priestley, in one of his Prefaces, " ought to be something greater and better than another man. The contemplation of the works of God should give a sublimity to his virtue — should ex- pand his benevolence, extinguish every thing selfish, base, and mean in his nature— give a dignity to all his sentiments, and teach him to aspire to the moral perfec- tions of the great Author of all things." But this aspira- tion was not called forth in Hume. A blight had taken possession of his moral nature, and there was required something more than philosophy to wipe away the de- stroying and corroding insect :— a great man he was, but not a Christian ; nor is the simplicity of his style of composition, one of the least proofs of his greatness. COLLOQUY V. 81 PHRENOLOGIST. It is marvellous certainly, if not perfectly irrational, for a man to so abandon himself to sin, or see things in such a perverted light, as to feel assured that revelation is a mere bugbear, that there is no resurrection, and no probability of a future state of existence. It is incredible, under the constitution of our nature. We have faculties which as instinctively lead us to doubt as to believe, be it for good or for evil ; and I never will believe that a man can be assured, persuaded in his own mind, of the falli- bility and utter inconsistency of every rule of faith founded on Divine government, and yet be in the posses- sion of a healthy mind. I can easily imagine a man to leave this world without regret ; for what is life, that one should desire its preservation — or death, that one should fear its pain ? And yet, for the infidel it were better that he never died — better that he was cast upon some isolated and desolate island for ever, where not so much as a sound, save the whistling wind, or the roaring sea, reached his ear, and nothing more varied than a barren waste met his eye. STEWART. This were a horrid existence; and it is to be wished that they whose names are not written in the book of life, should have nothing more miserable and wretched to endure. To be without the possibility of communi- cating with any creature — without a hope that any thing better than the fate you describe awaited one through everlasting ages — is a state which the mind cannot picture to itself without revolting at the sight. Even in our pre- sent condition, there is little that we wish to retain any G 82 COLLOQUY V. length of time. Though life is but as a span, a flying shadow, an ascending dew, it becomes irksome and toilsome. PHRENOLOGIST. Well would it be for the infidel if he could feelingly say with Shakspeare's Claudio — u Ah ! but to die, and go we know not where 1" STEWART. In death itself there is nothing to be dreaded, for, as Garth has justly remarked, " E'er we can feel the fatal stroke His o'er." Epicurus has rightly observed that death to us is nothing ; because when death is, we are not — and when we are, death is not. It is the event, and the uncertainty of that event. We are born to die ; death is the necessary consequence of life. The poet has said — " Then die, O mortal man ! for thou wert born." A great consolation is afforded to the dying in that they only are not its victims. " Nothing," says Seneca, " is so melancholy a circumstance in human life, or so reconciles us to the thought of our death, as the reflection and prospect of one friend after another dropping round us ! Who would stand alone, the sole remaining ruin, the last tottering column of all the fabrick of friendship; once so large, seemingly so strong, and yet so suddenly sunk and buried ? " PHRENOLOGIST. There is a remarkable feature in man respecting the anticipation of death which is worthy of notice. It is COLLOQUY V. 83 the perfect coolness and serenity with which he speaks of it in reference to others, without considering, meantime, that he also must undergo the penalty. Man talks as though every person were to die but himself. Is this a wise provision of Providence ? STEWART. In such a light it must be viewed. Were man always portending the event as it affects himself, it would render him miserable, and disable him for the performance of his several duties. PHRENOLOGIST. I have an instinctive horror of an event about which there exists so much uncertainty; and this, surely, is not culpable, as fear may lead to reverence and love. It may incite us to be more scrupulously rigid in maintaining probity and virtue in our intercourse with man, and more honest and pious in our communion with God. Who can see all the preparations for the consignment of a body to the grave, and all the awful realities of grief and despair in dear and beloved friends, without being terrified, or appalled, or dismayed, and roused to sympathy and thought^? The worldly-minded and the callous are but little affected by such scenes. STEWART. To such as these I would say, " Think you the soul when this life's rattles cease, " Has nothing more of manly to succeed ? " Contrast the taste immortal, learn e'en now " To relish what alone subsists hereafter." Young. I would exhort them not to suffer the vain boasting of g2 84 COLLOQUY V. philosophy, nor the pride of knowledge, to engross their principal thoughts ; but to " Learn hence of mortal things how vain the boast !" That philosophy which has for its object the con- sideration of mind, the immortal essence of man, and which, in the purity of a separated principle, is now addressing you, ghost-like and philosopher still, is a noble object. It was one that claimed my particular atten- tion in my capacity of Professor of Moral Philosophy. At a former meeting you referred to the influence of Jeffrey's Critique upon Phrenology, which, I believe, had such an effect upon the public mind as to check the sale of Spurzheim's voluminous, and, if its principles can be relied on, able work ; but you seem to have forgotten the fatal blow which Dr. John Gordon aimed at the doctrine when it was first introduced into this country, in or about the year 1814. This attack was made through the medium of that popular and talented periodical, the Edinburgh Review ; and as a summary of it will shew the manner in which the whole attack was conducted, I will quote from it. Dr. Gordon says, " We look upon the whole doctrines, taught by these two modern peripatetics (Drs. Gall and Spurzheim), anatomical, physiological, and physiognomical, as a piece of thorough quackery from beginning to end ; they are a collection of mere absurdi- ties, without truth, connexion, or consistency, which nothing could have induced any man to have presented to the public, under pretence of instructing them, but absolute insanity, gross ignorance, or the most matchless assurance." PHRENOLOGIST. This attack was not only unfair, it was virulent. Dr. Spurzheim answered it satisfactorily. The weight and COLLOQUY V. 85 influence of this Review, which is supposed, as a matter of course, to countenance all that its contributors may think fit to allege, carried weight with this anti-phreno- logical article. It would have been but fair to ask Dr. Gordon whether he really understood the subject he undertook to criticize and condemn. His own article stands as a proof of his ignorance of a science, the propa- gation of which called forth his severe and unqualified criticism. Neither of the peripatetics, by which name he has been pleased, in ridicule, to designate the two great founders and promulgators of this doctrine, was either insane, grossly ignorant, or an impostor. Both possessed great disinterestedness, amiability, and talent. Of their erudition I am not able to speak explicitly ; but they were both liberally educated, and had each obtained the degree of Doctor of Medicine, which necessarily carries with it a notion of learning. STEWART. Taking it as a matter of course, that a contributor to a Review may be as liable to err as another man of equal abilities, and willing to allow that opinions propounded by such an organ have considerable influence over the public mind, every thing it may advance being commonly relied on with implicit faith, I see a disadvantage in any one literary periodical having unlimited power. It may be the source of the greatest evil as well as the greatest good. This Review has, I own, invariably shewn its determination to attempt the extirpation of every opinion, and to crush every project of the phrenological body. It certainly has succeeded in checking the progress of the science, but not in annihilating it. Against the anti- phrenological party, who were once very powerful in this kingdom, there has always stood forth a small party 86 COLLOQUY V. against whom they could not entirely prevail. Had phrenology been, as Dr. Gordon asserts, anatomically, physiologically, and physiognomically wrong, it is a fair assumption to believe that its few votaries would have deserted it long ere this. 'Tis true there are some per- sons so fond of novelty, and of whatever excites curiosity, that no system, which carries with it a host of interesting associations, such as the fastidious and curious delight in, and such as phrenology doubtless comprises, is likely to be buried in total oblivion. If you could check the pas- sion for novelty, and make your nation contented with the great privileges it enjoys, and, at the same time, carry religion into all your social compacts and political enter- prises, your interests would be advanced, and your sources of happiness greatly augmented. PHRENOLOGIST. To this I readily assent. So far, however, as phre- nology is concerned, the love of novelty has stimulated many persons to study it. New views of mind were required when Gall and Spurzheim shot forth their meteoric lights in the horizon of mental science. Now that I am conversant with phrenology, I grant that such views as were entertained by you and your school would not satisfy my appetite for a knowledge of the mental principle. To my mind the opinions of this school appear loaded with a metaphysical and dogmatical jargon which experience itself cannot account for. This Gall saw ; nor was Spurzheim less quick in perceiving it ; and while such uncertainty rested upon your theories, and you could not prove what you taught, and it was unrea- sonable to suppose that more demonstrative evidence rested somewhere, capable of being luminously brought forward, it was illiberal and unwise on the part of Dr. COLLOQUY V. 87 Gordon to send forth his sweeping censures, drawing con- clusions from his own statements in derision of a new philosophy which professed to be an improvement upon the old. Ere, too, he so wantonly attacked the founder and propounder of this new theory, he should have been not merely conversant with the theory itself, which was not the case, but he should have made himself well acquainted with the talents, and respectablity, and temper- aments of the men against whom he directed so poisoned an arrow. Follow these men through all their labours in maturing their system ; observe their unwearied perse- verance, their assiduity, their struggles to attain truth in competing with their rivals; view them dissecting the brain — and Spurzheim, in particular, with the hand of one who eagerly sought to discover a new constitution of things, respecting which nothing had yet been elicited, under the conviction that some great event depended on the result of his researches, and which, on being revealed, would forward the interests of mankind, and aid the promotion of truth. STEWART. Think you they were perfectly disinterested in their labours ? PHRENOLOGIST. I know not what Spurzheim might have sacrificed in devoting his time so entirely to the establishment and promulgation of this doctrine. He became a disciple of Gall when a tutor in a private family at Vienna. His father was a farmer at Longvick, near Treves, on the Moselle. He was born in the year 1776, the 31st of December. With the view of being bred to the minis- try, or the profession of Theology, he was sent, at a proper age, to Treves, an University of great celebrity. H8 COLLOQUY V. From thence he was driven to Vienna, in 1799, by the war that then ravaged those parts. Dr. Gall was now settled at Vienna, as a physician, and lecturer on Phre- nology. This course he pursued for about four years. Spurzheim, probably, first attended these lectures from curiosity, but ultimately he became a disciple ; I pretend not to say whether it was from the eloquence, force, energy, and persuasiveness of the lecturer, or the ration- ality and truth which his expositions conveyed. Gall appears to have made greater sacrifices than Spurzheim. At the expiration of these four years his doctrines were deemed dangerous, and he was prevented lecturing in the year 1805 by an " imperial interdict." The moral health of the Austrians was considered to be in danger. He was requested either to leave the city, or relinquish his lectures. He chose the former, though he felt some repugnance in obeying the proscription, and accordingly resigned his practice, which, it was reasonable to suppose, was likely to prove more lucrative than the pursuit of a new theory, the truth and utility of which had not yet been proved. Leaving Vienna, he visited many parts of the North of Europe, where he was well received. In these excursions he was accompanied by Spurzheim. In 1807 they reached Paris, where they presented to the Institute a paper descriptive or illustrative of some new features in the constitution of the brain. Here they diligently prosecuted their researches, and composed their phrenological work, entitled " The Anatomy and Physi- ology of the Nervous System in general, and of the Brain in particular ; with observations upon the possibility of ascertaining several intellectual and moral dispositions of men and animals, by the configuration of their heads :" 4 vols, folio, with an atlas of 100 plates. This work was not finished till 1819, owing, it is said, to some " dis- COLLOQUY V. 89 agreement between the authors." Gall ultimately pub- lished it; and his friend, Prince Metternich, Austrian Minister at the French Court, engaged, I believe, to defray the expences. STEWART. Of the sincerity of the intentions of these men there can be no question. They were, I feel assured, benevo- lent and upright ; nor have I any reason to doubt their abilities, further than that they appeared to uphold a doctrine which, at first, was considered to have few pre- tensions to truth. In other respects they had the charac- ter of being men of extensive information and great sagacity. Dr. Spurzheim published several works in England, which he first visited, I believe, in 1814, and continued to make this country his residence until 1832, with the exception of about eight years that he passed at Paris in the interval. These works, ten in number, on various subjects connected with his favourite study, are proofs of an ardent, powerful, and well-informed mind. I was not inattentive to the progress of this extraordinary man, though I refused my assent to his doctrine. PHRENOLOGIST. The works to which you allude are, " The new Phy- siognomical System ;" — fourth generation;' and why, I ask, may not that visitation be manifested in a penalty of this kind ? The immoral and profane parent with a bad development, according to our ideas of phrenology, gives to his child the same kind of development ; the consequence of which is, an equally immoral line of conduct. When parents have more rigidly adhered to religion and morality, the descendants are found to possess a better organization ; to inherit, in fact, an organization amply fitted to yield a large share of moral excel- lence. Now, since the organs become enlarged as they are exercised, and since an increased exercise and size would aug- ment the energy of the faculties, it naturally follows, that, on a man improving his organization by exercising his moral faculties, and thus adding to the volume of the moral organs, which, being thus increased, would raise him in the scale of moral beings, he would transmit to his offspring that which he had acquired. This is self-evident, for it is now thoroughly APPENDIX. 331 established that the organic, as well as the moral, qualities of the parent usually descend to the offspring. But then, it may be argued, a man, having a low organization, would not be able, according to the system of phrenology, to exercise his moral faculties so as to improve the state of his moral develop- ment, simply because that organization would impel him to act contrary to morality. To a certain extent this is just ; and yet it is not fatalism, but, rather, a penalty resulting from an infringement of the Creator's laws. Still, however perverse the inclination and motives of action may be, as dependent on organization, there is yet a discretionary power in every person not an idiot or madman. There is a conscience in every man, which, though not void of offence, is, nevertheless, not in total darkness, ignorance, and eclipse. If a man have a bad organization, such as would give a particularly evil bias to his mind, without that organization being an hereditary defect, the consequence of some infringe- ment, I own we should have to impugn the moral government of the world, or, in other words, have reason to doubt whether any degree of responsibility could attach itself to man except by imputation ; because, if a moral impediment were put in our way, that impediment being occasioned by organization, without being the result of some kind of disobedience, some violation of the Creator's laws, I cannot see where responsi- bility would lie, nor even the justice of a being who would con- demn us on account of it, — a physical defect operating injuri- ously to our eternal interests, and that, too, without the cause resting in ourselves. Radically defective as our intellectual and moral nature is likely to be with a debased physical development, I think any person would take a very objection- able position were he to declare that the organization limits the reception of Divine truth : even admitting that it did, I see no reason why we should attach the blame to nature, or to any thing except our own infringement of the laws of God. Had these laws never been disobeyed, I am inclined to believe that all men would have had beautiful and perfect developments. This is no more than to say that a defective state of the brain is owing to moral depravity ; and, therefore, that the conse- quences of this defect, however far it may extend or interfere 332 APPENDIX. with our morality, or even piety, are nothing more than some of those forms of penalties incurred by the transgression of God's laws in that government to which it was intended man should be subject. Still, religion, pure undefiled religion, is so supernatural a thing, so entirely the gift of a Supreme Being, bestowed without right or merit on our part, that I doubt much if the organization has any thing to do with it. Where there is a splendid development, a person can easily conceive of a higher tone or temperament being given to the religious sentiments, — of the aspirations being fervent and devout, with little of enthusiasm or misguided zeal. Religion, in such a case, would burn with a steadier and brighter light, and, I think, meet with a higher reward — a fuller measure of happiness in a future state. A cultivated understanding is not absolutely necessary to devotion. Requisite, therefore, as a good organization may be to the more perfect development of our faculties in every particular relating to our temporal wants, it does not seem necessary to the reception of that Divine grace which makes a true Christian. I think the appropriation of the faculties, as influenced by the organization, refers only to man in his relation to this world ; because, did we carry the principle out to the fullest extent, we should be limiting the influence of that Spirit by gross matter, and no individual with a bad organization could ever, in consequence, be saved, or, at least, receive such a plenitude of Divine favour as may secure future felicity. For these reasons I dissent from the views of Mr. Combe, mentioned in the second Colloquy. They cer- tainly seem to be at issue with revealed truth, and are not, in my opinion, necessary results of phrenology. Had Mr. Combe confined himself to the fact of man being susceptible of moral improvement, discipline, and rectitude, agreeably to the state of the organization, his views might, I presume, have been warranted. But to suppose the saving faith of the Christian, which, when possessed, is obtained through a medium higher than any human privilege could bestow, and which no reason- ing however profound, and no morality however pure, could provide, can be received only by a certain development of the brain, is makiDg that subservient to the creature, which, as distinguished from any effort or operation of the mind by its APPENDIX. 333 own internal resources, is really and essentially superadded to the mind by an extraordinary effusion of Divine grace — grace not inherited by man — grace entirely supernatural, and which, I conceive, would never be conceded to man because he pos- sessed a good organization. In all operations mind is the first cause : it is not the nature of matter to produce any action of mind however simple. Matter by nature can neither think, reason, feel, nor compre- hend ; and ere it can be proved that the science leads to fatalism, it must be proved that mind is material, and not a willing and free agent. Such a degree of fatality as is sup- posed to exist in nature, is scarcely possible under any circum- stance : that it prevails to some extent in all things is indis- putable ; but this prevalence affects only the determinate laws of creation, and not the free-agency of man, nor so much as the constitution of the brain, in so far, at least, as that consti- tution is subject to the powers of man. A man may be an atheist, but there is no necessity for that man to be so ; it is contrary, indeed, even to the dictates of his own conscience; and also to the will of that Being who created him. The Creator gives the mind in all its greatness, with a power, a will, a free-agency to enable this greatness to be turned either to a good or a bad account ; and it is very doubtful whether he directs that mind to great, philosophic, and scientific pursuits, more than to such as are infidel and vicious ; and it is still more dubious whether that inward monitor, conscience, is not awake and active, be the organization what it may. It may be enfeebled in its authority when the organization is low, shed- ding forth the purity of its own lustre to be eclipsed by abused propensities. A bad organization is a clog to the understand- ing, even to the conscience : it is like a cloud preventing the meridian sun shining upon the earth, but which is not the less magnificent, nor, in reality, the less powerful and bright, because the influence of its rays is impeded by an intervening body. Still, be the organization of whatsoever kind it may, there is yet reason, yet conscience ; and what are these ? Who doubts the investigating, comparing, cogitating, and under- standing character of the former ? or who will pretend to argue that the latter possesses no feeling or sense of justice, no 334 APPENDIX. knowledge of right and wrong, affecting in particular the rela- tions we bear to a Supreme Being? By reason we deduce inferences from premises, connect one thing with another, and acknowledge a series of phenomena which must have a cause : by consciousness we feel the necessity, and, perhaps, im- pulsively or instinctively, of obeying that cause. In pursuing the grand chain of existence through every stage from infancy upwards, conscience, like a planet in its orbit, never forgets its course ; for though it may come in contact with many opposing forces, it gives place to none. Its light may be eclipsed, but it can never be subdued ; its influence may be weakened, but nothing can destroy it. The course pursued by man, may, if his inclination prompt — if his free-agency be not, in spite of nature, or, at least, the design of the Deity, contumaciously bent — lead him into the path of morality. Were he led on instinctively, through the aid of a principle planted within him, in the same manner, for instance, as the vulture seeks for carrion, and the swallow migrates, and be thus destitute of a free-will, he would, of course, irresistibly cleave to that which is either good or evil ; but to say that good is not followed thus strictly because there is no latent germ bearing the principles of moral and intellectual improvement within itself, is going beyond what either nature or revelation warrants us to affirm. We cannot speak disparagingly of the nature of man, for we know not, in the first place, what it is ; nor, in the second, is it possible that the nature of man, which does not strictly include the misappropriation he may choose to make of it by his free-agency, can be otherwise than good, — possessing the qualifications of good, being, in fact, the immediate work of the Creator. The evil man commits results from the ascend- ancy of his sensual nature, from the indulgence of propensities in the extreme, from the gratification of desires which are forbidden. Further, since daily experience and the history of the whole world teach us that there are certain propensities inhe- rent in man which are capable, though not irresistibly, of vicious impulses and interdicted inclinations, and that some men, from their natural constitution, be it from organization, or from mind abstractedly from organization, are inclined to APPENDIX. 335 be virtuous, while others are disposed to be vicious, by what mode of reasoning shall the phrenologist be found guilty of fatalizing the mind because he affirms or proves that these different temperaments or tendencies are regulated by the organization ? By shewing these things to exist, he only eluci- dates a fact in nature. It signifies not to the world at large how those tendencies are manifested if they really exist : it matters not, I would say, whether mind be thus directed by its own internal resources alone, or whether the brain takes an essential part. Phrenology, therefore, is merely a corrobora- tion of what Nature herself affords ; it tells us of certain pro- pensities, certain desires existing, and of those propensities being the more untoward, in other words, more liable to abuse, in proportion to the development of certain cerebral parts ; and this principle, it is contended, is not a mere creature of the phrenologist's brain, but a principle that has its derivation in nature. He does not, however, say, whatever latitude he may allow himself in judging of the motives of man by the conformation, that those desires are irresistible, nor even that vice is a natural, inherent quality of the mind ; for he allows, in this respect, more than most philosophers are willing to do, — that all the faculties are by nature good, their abuses only being the constituents of evil passions and unholy inclina- tions. Except in a diseased brain, restraint is always possible. True, that restraint may be less, or evil actions more ungo- vernable, in one individual than in another, and that, too, by reason of the conformation ; but where is the man who, in the commission of sin, does not experience a conviction of its heinousness, if not from a conscience moved by religious impressions, at least from one actuated by its own internal and natural movements ? — and where is he who is not capable, at the same time, of resisting the impulse to do evil by the efforts of his own will — a will that is ever present, though, I grant, not ever dominant? But then, says the antiphrenolo - gist, conscience and will, granting the possibility of their being free in their respective exercises and individual capaci- ties, are weakened as the posterior lobe of the brain is aug- mented in size ; because, if the propensities grow stronger in proportion to the relative size of the lobe, the will that is 336 APPENDIX. required^ to place a restraint upon them, must be, conse- quently, the more impotent. This is, in a measure, true. The propensities being strong is the reason why the power of the will is subdued, or, rather, less authoritative. Did the will increase in power as the propensities are heightened in inten- sity, a balance would be preserved, and a check kept upon them. I do not see why the will should keep pace with the propensities in this case ; why, in other words, because a man has vehement passions, his willing, ruling, or dictating pro- vince should be stronger than that of a man whose desires are more moderate : it would not be so unless his reflecting facul- ties were much more powerful ; for these faculties are those which supply us, in a great degree, with will. Whatever be the cause of that impotency, certain it is that the impotency prevails ; and I cannot see why phrenology should be charged with inconsistency and falsehood for explaining the matter to us, and in a manner that cannot be disproved, much as it may be questioned. I "s^Gmmse K m:*sptjm^ c « s < 5^ or* < ^26 - ^ <,«& 5S^