1 HEiHARK^S PRINCIPLES OF PHRENOLOGY, A LECTURE, n:;i.ivrERED before the FREDERICKSBURG PHRENOLOGICAL SOCIETY. Feb. 11, 1834. Y / BY BEVERLEY R. WELLFORD, M. D. ry- /e_„ PUBLISHED BV THE SOCIETY. X.1W A FREDERICKSBURG ARENA OFFICE. 1834. V: V.. W , 3F W451r REMARKS, &C. Whatever, gentlemen, may be the peculiarity of taste, or , habit, or pursuit, which distinguishes the character of any indi- vidual, it is impossible that he can, for a moment, direct his atten- tion to external nature, without observing subjects of curious, in- teresting and profound investigation. The animal kingdom, from the structure of a single hair, through every gradation, up to the half reasoning elephant; the vegetable, from the delicate leaf, which buds forth in spring to be severed and swept from its parent stem by the winds of autumn, to the gigantic oak that has withstood the tempests of an hundred winters; the mineral, from the merest pebble, which lies in his footpath, to the costly gem that sparkles in the diadem of royalty; the air, the earth, the waters, and the heavens; the laws which bind each to itself, to its kind, and to the magnificent whole of which it forms a part; con- stitute a study so minute, and yet so comprehensive, as to have elu- ded, in many interesting details, the patient labor of philosophic re- search and left for succeeding ages the discovery of new laws, new combinations, new principles and new beauties. Numerous and extensive, however, as are the subjects which are presented tor your contemplation, by a review of external nature, it pre- sents nothing of deeper, or more enduring, interest thanothe brief, but comprehensive, theme of the Grecian philosopher—Know Thyself. Whether we regard this injunction as addressed to the anatomist, the physiologist, or the metaphysician,, it presents for his investigation the most wonderful of nature's works. Viewed simply as a combination of material particles, the anatomist dis- covers in man a single machine, composed of a number of dis- tinct individual organs, or instruments, each perfect in itself and yet mutually dependent; of structure so curious and complicated, the minutest parts, even those beyond the capacity of unassisted 4 vision, so exquisitely finished, so perfectly adapted to the office it is intended to fulfil, nothing redundant and nothing deficient, and constituting a whole so faultless, that he is compelled to echo the remark of the inspired Psalmist "we are fearfully and won- derfully made." But to the physiologist, the student of the sci- ence of life, a new source of interest is developed. He sees the machine, which as an anatomist he had contemplated with awe and admiration, animated by a power so subtle and impalpa- ble, as to escape detection by his senses, but yielding to his obser- vation irresistible evidence of government in its operations, by fixed and immutable laws. Observation and experiment disclose to him the fact, that it confers on each individual organ, and on the whole machine, ability to execute the duties assigned by the omniscient architect. This principle is called animal life.— Without it, the animal machine would be a mass of inert matter, and would be immediate!v decomposed and resolved into its ori- ginal elements. It is by the agency of animal life that it is ena- bled to sustain and reproduce itself. The process is one of singu- lar interest to the physiologist. He sees the aliment which Na- ture has provided, in combination with other materials which are useless or injurious to the animal system, received by one set of organs, conducted to others which refine the mass and separate from it those constituents that contain the principle it needs: These, in a state of fluidity, are by other instruments carried through a farther process of refinement, then disseminated through- out the whole system, successively presented to each individual organ, which selects for itself the elements necessary to form the product, which it is its appointed duty to contribute for the wel- fare of the whole. While animal life thus enables one set of or- gans to eliminate the material of continued existence, it endows others with the power of locomotion, and manwalks abroad upon the earth, "creation's heir," enjoying, through the agency of his organs of external sense, the varied blessings which nature, with a liberal hand, scatters around him. But it is reserved for the metaphysician to contemplate man in his noblest, most commanding, attribute : to view him as the last and most perfect work of his Creator, endowed with a principle which, emanating from di\ iuity itself, stamps him with His image and marks him as the heir, not of creation only, but of immortali- ty. This principle is designated by the term, mind, and is that which thinks and wills and reasons. Inscrutable in itself, and in- scrutably connected with the material part of man, it is, neverthe- less, the characteristic which distinguishes him from the rest of the animal creation, and has conducted him onward in the march of improvement, until he has comprehended, in his intellectual grasp, almost all things but himself. Driven from the scenes of his creation and his happiness, the doomed victim of remorse and sorrow, man went forth into the wilderness, permitted, by an of- fended but still beneficent Creator, to retain, even in his guilt and abasement, this mysterious power, the only relic of his lost inher- itance. Surrounded by danger and death, the merited penalty of his own frailty, but for this inestimable gift he must have fallen an immediate sacrifice to the ferocious and powerful partners of his curse. By its aid, though feeble, he quelled the strong and ren- dered all other inhabitants of earth tributary to himself. In sub- sequent ages, it has continued the guardian of his safety and the minister to his accumulating necessities. By its aid, science has< disclosed to him the secrets of nature, and arts and manufactures have rendered the treasures of the earth and the deep subservi- ent to his wants. He has originated rules by which mind ci"-..i communicate with mind, though mountains and oceans intervene. He has constructed fabrics, in which he floats in safety on the bosom of the fathomless abyss, and has devised means by which he can traverse the trackless waters ind take upon him the wings of the morning/and visit the uttermost parts of the sea. He has invented instruments that reveal new evidence of the power of the Almighty, in beings whose existence unassisted sense never could have recognized ; and which open to his view in the mag- nificent dome above him thousands of worlds, to which his own is but an atom, with measured pace and in obedience to deter- minate laws, "wheeling unshaken thro' the void immense." He has ascertained the principle which confines them to their orbits, traced out their pathway in the heavens, and can predict their relative positions at any given period with unerring certainty.— (S He knows that he has arrived al these results l.y the agency of "that divinity which stirs within him;" but here the power of hu- man investigation is arrested. Thus far he can go but no farther. He knows not its ultimate essence, and, but that the Almighty framer has vouchsafed to this, his most cherished, work, a revela- tion that "points out immortality to man," Mind would have been to itself as the "wind that bioweth where it listeth"—it would perceive the edict but could not tell whence it came nor w hither it goes. Fruitless, however, as every effort has proved to ascertain the ultimate constituent of mind, it may, like animal life, be studied, in its manifestations, with every prnbabilitv of useful result. Not, indeed, with an expectation of arriving at a knowledge of its ma- terial, for that must ever remain a mystery undeveloped by the limited ability of human reason. The material of animal life is also unknown : we know the organs, or instruments, through which it acts; we witness its effects, and thence successfully infer the laws which govern it. It has been wisely suggested that the same mode of investigation, applied to mental operations, would place us in. possession of all that it is requisite we should know on that subject. The same principle applies to each—we observe the phenomena of mind, and we know that the brain is its peculiar organ, and, as similar results under similar circumstan- ces always follow similar causes, it does not appear why mental phi- losophy should form an exception to the rule. Such is simply the proposition of the much contemned, much ridiculed, but never refu- ted, system of Phrenology. It professes, as itname imports, to be the science of mind. It is based on the position that the brain is the organ, or instrument, by means of which the mind manifests its powers; that the brain is not an unit, but is composed of a plu- rality of smaller organs, and that each of the smaller organs is appropriated to the manifestation of some primitive mental pow- er; and as the aggregate of the smaller organs constitutes one grand whole, viz. the brain, so does the aggregate of fundamen- tal principles constitute the mind.—It professes not to enquire into the nature or ultimate principle of either mind or matter__ It is aware, that neither the one nor the other is a legitimate ni>- ject of philosophical research, as both arc beyond the reach of the human faculties, and it admits, with all other philosophy, that "the term matter is a name, which we apply to a certain combi- nation of properties, or to certain substances, which are solid, ex- tended and divisible and which are known to us only by these properties. That the term mind, in the same manner, is a name which we apply to a certain combination of functions, or to a cer- tain power, which we feel within, which thinks and wills and reasons; and is known to us only by these functions. The. for- mer w-e know only by our senses, the latter only by our con- sciousness. In regard to their essence, or occult qualities, we know quite as little about matter as we do about mind ; and as far as our utmost conception of them extends, we have no ground for believing they have any thing in common. The true object of philosophy is to investigate the facts in regard to both." This is the definition of mind and matter, given by Dr. Abercrombie, a most enlightened metaphysician, but not a Phrenologist. Phren- ology accords with his definition and immediate deduction, but proposes to pursue her investigation by a process different from that which he, in common with the old school of metaphysicians, has adopted. They investigated the phenomena of mind exclu- sively in the abstract, without regard to the material organ by means of which many of them admitted it to operate. It is not surprising, therefore, that certain theorists, Bishop Berkeley and Mr. Hume, for example, arrived at the notable conclusion, the one that there is no such thing as matter, and the other, by extending the same reasoning, that there is neither matter nor mind, but that the whole universe is illusive. It is just, however, to absolve recent metaphysicians from the imputation of such ab- surdities, but as they too investigate mind in the abstract merely, let us examine the process they adopt and endeavor to ascertain whether it can conduct them to correct conclusions. Philosophers are agreed that no theory can be true, unless based upon a collection of facts, authentic, full, and essential; for if the premises are false, incomplete, or inapplicable, the deduc- tions must, of necessity, be divested of all title to respect. If, for example, a theory of vision were propounded, in which the rapacity of the mind to receive impressions were clearly and fairly estimated, and the ability of light to make such im- pressions correctly stated, its character and properties presented with the strictest regard to truth and science ; still how beautiful and ingenious soever a theory thus constructed might be, we could not accord it our credence, if the organ which commnnicates the impression of light were left out of the question. If the pecu- liar functions of the eye were disregarded, and the power of its different media to refract the rays of light, and that of its ner- vous expansion to receive the image of external objects, were not included in the array of facts upon which the theory was based, it must, of course, be at once rejected as untenable and absurd. Now, metaphysicians, in investigating the phenomena of mind, have lost sight of the mental organ, and have depended on con- sciousness alone to reveal the laws by which they are regulated. Mr. Locke's definition of consciousness is, that it is the "percep- tion of what passes in one's own mind," and it is thence argued that, as we have thus afforded an opportunity of observing mental phenomena in ourselves, we may, by this means alone, arrive at a correct system of mental philosophy. An appeal to your own experience will at once satisfy you that all mental operations are under the direct influence of the brain and consequently that con- sciousness is an imperfect basis for a theory of mind. The par- allel developement of the mind and brain, in children, the occur- rence of insanity, the effects of intemperance, the delirium of fever, afford abundant proof that the mind is influenced by the state of the brain, and yet; in health, consciousness does not inform us that wc possess that organ. The instruments, by means of which the mind is acted on, are many ; consciousness is the single result. These instruments perform their functions without any consciousness of either their existence or operation. For exam- ple, we move our limbs by the agency of the nerves of voluntary motion and certain muscles which derive their power therefrom. We are conscious of exercising our will in moving our limb, and of the result, but consciousness gives us no intimation even of the existence of the nerves and muscles by means of which we perform the act. Hence analogy authorizes the inference that y the organs used by the mind, for manifesting its powers, may per- ioral their functions without the least eon: ciounness, either of their existence, or operation. But these functions of the brain find no place in the theories of metaphysicians—can we trust to conclu- sions formed in the absence of premises so vitally important?—a result without an antecedent statement of all the facts has obvi- ously no claim to our confidence. But even if this palpable deficiency in the theories of meta- physicians did not exist, we could not acknowledge that a per- ception of what passes in our own minds was competent to in- form us of the mental powers possessed by other persons. A deaf man would be obviously incorrect in his conclusions, should he infer, from his own situation, that all the rest of man- kind were incapable of receiving the impression of sound; but, if his own perceptions were adequate to conduct him to truth, his inference would, of course, be entirely correct. The common fate of every theory, based on facts collected by an investigation of mind in the abstract, authorizes the conclusion that metaphysicians never will arrive at truth, until they renounce con- jecture, and pursue the same path which has conducted philosophy to a successful issue in other sciences. When Newton observed that bodies were drawn towards each other by some mysterious and invisible power, if he had concentrated the energies of his mighty mind upon the abstract principle, and sought to ascertain its ultimate nature, the effort would have been futile, and man- kind have been deprived of the beneficial effects of his magnifi- cent discovery. But he pursued the wiser course. Content to remain ignorant of that which he knew to be incomprehensible, he analyzed the properties of the bodies on which it manifested its powers, observed the laws which governed them mutually, and thence deduced a theory as imperishable as his own fame. Ap- plied to the science of mind, his mode of investigation would counsel us to ascertain the functions of the brain; observe the manifestations of the subtle principle which acts through it as its medium of intercourse with man ; determine the laws common to '■ • an ' the result would be as salutary in the cause of mental 10 philosophy a-, a similar process has already proved in that of hci sister science. But it will be asked, by « hat means can we attain a knowledge of the functions of the brain ?. By the same means that we have already arrived at a knowledge of the functions of the organs of external sense. Anatomy did not reveal them, for the most care- ful dissection of the olfactory, or auditory, or optic, nerves never could have disclosed the fast that they were severally intended to enable us to smell, to hear, and to see. After the Let is ascer- tained by experience and observation, we discover an apparent correspondence between the structure of the organs of the senses and the functions of those organs, or rather the apparatus and the function, for the correspondence ceases when we arrive at the ul- timate agent, viz. the nerve itself; but even this apparent corres- pondence amounts only to this; that we discover in the cases of the eye and ear some analogy to exist between the apparatus con- stituting those organs and certain instruments which we find to modify light and sound in external nature. This, however, does not explain how either apparatus produces its effects. We can only say that the eye modifies light, like a lens; we could as suc- cessfully illustrate the property of the lens by saying that it mod- ifies light, like the eye. How it is done, in either case, remains unexplained. Anatomy then did net reveal the functions of the organs of sense, and it is equally clear that consciousness did not. Consciousness never could inform us whether we had one, or sev- eral, organs of sense or, indeed, whether we had any at all—it never could divulge whether external objects acted on the rnind directly, or, by the intervention of media of communication.__ How then do we discover that we possess the organs of external sense, that there are five of them, of distinct functions, and what is the function of each ? By experience and observation alone ; we never could have solved these several questions in any other way. For example—I enter a room in which there are lights and music and perfumes. I am sensible that peculiar im- pressions are made on the mind, but consciousness cannot enable rae to determine, whether the external agents, by which these im- pressions are made, act directly on the mind, or by the interven- 11 tion of media of communication; and even if I ascertain that they do not act directly , but through intermedia, consciousness is still un- able to inform me, whether there is one general intermedium, or a separate and distinct intermedium for each separate and distinct im- pres ion. I am compelled then to resort to experiment and observa- tion, before I can satisfy myself whether there is any medium of com- munication. I, therefore, close all the avenues of the senses, and the s^ene instantly disappears—I open them, and it is again apparent. I am now convinced that there is at least one medium of communi- cation, but am still ignorant whether there is more than one. I therefore close all the organs of sense, except one—the ear. 1 no longer perceive any thing but the peculiar irapresssion produced by the music—the sounds ; I open another avenue, say the eye, and the lights are perceived; a third, and the perfumes are discovered. By this analysis, I ascertain clearly, that there are media of com- munication between the mind and external objects, that these me- dia are physical organs, that they are separate and distinct and each one capable of communicating one species of impressions and no more. If further proof is required that we arrive at a know- ledge of the existence of the organs of external sense, and of their functions, by observation and experience alone, it will be found in the disease of the eye called amaurosis, or gutta serena, which is the effect of paralysis of the nerve of vision. The an- atomical structure remains perfect; the appearance of the eye is the same that it is in health. Cases of this disease have occur- red, in which the sight of one eye has been lost without being discovered until the healthy eye was accidentally closed, when the unfortunate patient to his astonishment found himself in ut- ter darkness. If I were to enquire why metaphysicians have omitted all reference to the brain, I could receive but one answer, viz. because consciousness does not, in health, apprize us of its existence or functions, from whence it is concluded that it does not influence or modify mental operation, and that, consequently, the laws of mind can be successfully investigated without any refer- ence to it whatever. But I have shewn that the same argument applies, with equal force, to the study of the external senses and, iif course, if the position of the metaphysicians be admitted to be \2 correct, the function:'of the external senses could have been suc- <.:ss|'u!iv inv<<(iga>d without referei;ee to their organs. But is this ii fact r !u what s'ate would the philosophy of the senses now hive been, if it had been studied by reflet ling on the sub- lets of our <>wi consciousness alone. Could wc, by such re- liction, have discovered either the existence or the functions of the organs of sense r. Obviously no. Instead of the positive truths to which observation and experience have conducted us, we should have been lost in the mazes of conjecture—speculations on impressions, received by means of the senses, divided into (lasses, according to the fancy of each metaphysician, who studied them, not according to nature and to truth. If then manifestation com- pared with organization lias been successfully applied to the study of the senses, why may it not conduce to similar advantages in mental philosophy ?. The same difficulties envelope both. In either case there is an unknown principle, acting through physical or- gans, dependent on their perfection and health for the energy, eapacitv and precision of its manifestation ; its manifestation ceasing entirely when its corresponding organ becomes the vic- tim of death or of material injury of structure. This mode of ascertaining the functions of the brain is pre- cisely that which was adopted by the celebrated Dr. Gall and his no less distinguished collaborator, Doctor Spurzheim. The circumstance which first suggested this plan of philosophizing was in itself interesting. There was a young man, attending the col- lege at which Dr. Gall was himself a student, distinguished for his verbal memory. This young man Gall was most anxious to excel, but, in the acquisition of language, he found it impossible. Knowing that, in other respects, he was superior to his rival, he was induced to examine into the causes of his failure. His first resort was to Physiognomy but it afforded no satisfactory solu- tion. In studying the countenance of his competitor, however, he was struck with the remarkable prominence of his eyes, and, upon comparing the peculiarity with a similar peculiarity in others, he found that, in every instance, it was accompanied by remarka- ble aptitude for the acquisition of language, and recollection of words, and, on the other hand, wherever the prominence was de- 13 ficient, there was a corresponding deficiency of capacity in these respects. When conducting his observations in this matter his at- tention was frequently arrested by peculiarity of formation of the head, attended by peculiar mental manifestation. These facts were new and interesting, and he deemed them worthy of atten- tive and accurate examination. They were tested by farther ob- servation and confirmed by other and numerous cases. Enquiry thus excited, his comparisons were multiplied and his discoveries- multiplied with his comparisons. He did not, as has been un- justly charged, conceive his theory and, guided by his imagina- ination, map out a skull with the beautiful and harmonious ar- rangement of organs which craniology now presents. Far oth- erwise. He devoted himself to the study of nature only. His conclusions were deduced from patient and laborious attention to her indications. He obtained casts of the heads of persons, re- markable for some peculiarity of mind, placed them on his table, studied them day after day and week after week, observed whatev- er was remarkable in the developement of each, and remarked in what particulars they agreed with, and in what they differed from, each other. When he had satisfied himself of the exis- tence and locality of the developement, which corresponded with the peculiarity of mind common to each, he verified it by farther observation, and then named and marked it. In this way he pur- sued his investigations for thirty years, affixing stars, or crosses, on those parts of the head which he had not successfully explor- ed, as early geographers were accustomed to place the figure of an elephant on those parts of their maps which denoted countries of which they knew nothing. He travelled from country to coun- try, mixed in society, visited schools, hospitals, prisons and every other place where he could find a miscellaneous collection of mankind. He heeded not reproaches, nor ridicule, nor con- tempt ; his confidence increased with his researches; and discove- ry succeeded discovery in slow, but certain, succession. Now he ascertained the character of an organ in one part of the head, and then of another in a part separate and remote from the last, and, as his discoveries progressed, he was astonished to find their loca- tion to assume an order of arrangement, so wise, so beautiful, so 11 entirely in harmony with all the works of nature, as to exclude the idea of accidental distribution, and to stamp it with the design and wisdom of the Almighty. It has been remarked by an Eng- lish poet, that "order is Heaven's first law." The truth of the position is sustained by every natural combination of matter, from the minutest chrvstal to the largest mountain, but by none of them all is it more triumphantly vindicated than by the arrange- ment of mental organs, discovered by Doctor Gall. He found those propensities, common to man and the inferior animals, situ- ated together in the inferior part of the brain. As man rises above them, in the scale of being, bis brain is furnished with other compartments in which are contained the organs of the in- tellectual faculties and moral sentiments, and, as if to authorize them to assert their title to regulate, direct and control the lower propensities, they are furnished with a more elevated position.— Here, at the summit of the head, we find the organs of benevo- lence, of veneration, of justice and others which mark the moral character. Anterior to these are situated the intellectual facul- ties, conferring on the brow of man a grace, a. dignity and majes- ty of countenance and mien, which, like the faculties it contains, distinguish him from the brutes that perish, and affords a confir- mation of the words of revalation, that he is, indeed, the im- age of his Maker. Such is the general arrangement of the ani- mal propensities, moral sentiments and intellectual faculties, dis- covered, not invented, by Dr. Gall—for, as has been eloquently re- marked by Dr. Elliotson, of London, "Gall made the discovery, but the work was the work of the Almighty." The labors of Gall occupied more than thirty years, and so slow and cautious were his conclusions that in all this time he was satisfied of the existence and position of only 27 organs, and since the publication of Gall, Spurzheim has established the locality of only six others. In the case of many of the faculties, their observations have been so numerous that they hold their conclusions as certain, and in re- gard to others, where the observations have been fewer, as proba- ble only. An additional organ has been discovered at Copenha- gen and some others by Vimont of France. The location of or- gans, as at present described, will doubtless be found, in some re- 1.) spects, erroneous or incomplete by future and more extensive in- vestigation. That, however, is merely the detail of the science of Phrenology, and by no means involves the fate of its principles. Its opponents may resist its principles by argument, but can only refute its details by candid and intelligent observation. Of their truth or falsehood philosophy will render her verdict when she has submitted them to a fair and patient trial. Organized as your society is for the purpose of testing them by personal experience and observation, it is sufficient that I remind you that implicit credulity and unlimited scepticism are equal evidence of a feeble understanding: He only is the true philosopher who examines facts with caution, arranges them with judgment, and makes his deductions with candor and wisdom. In his search for truth, he admits to his councils neither prejudice nor preconception ; he knows that both must be sacrificed on her altar, or the Goddess never can be propitiated. Conceding the propriety of this course, the advocates of Phrenology seek no exclusive privilege—they invite all to examine for themselves, and ask nothing of those who refuse the invitation but to refrain from condemning what they do not endeavor to understand : but even this slender boon they ask in vain—the accomplishment of your object will re- quire a decision of purpose regardless alike of calumny and ridi- cule. The close and intimate connexion of Phrenology with physiology and practical medicine, with law, with medical juris- prudence, with education and many other subjects of profound interest and importance to society, ought to protect you from the charge of useless and visionary speculation. But it will not.— Mankind is ever prone to censure that which it neither appre- ciates nor comprehends, and has little reason for self congratula- tion on the sagacity with which it is accustomed to estimate the value of either scientific or moral suggestions. Socrates demon- strated to his eotemporaries the folly of polytheism and advoca- ted the existence of One great first cause. He lived an object of ridicule and hatred and died a victim to the poisoned cup proffer- ed by the hands of ignorant and prostituted power: Galileo was persecuted and imprisoned for suggesting the motion of the earth: Columbus was contemned as an idle enthusiast and long sought in 1(5 vain at the hands of rank and opulence the means necessary to discover the vast continent we now inhabit; Harvey, the immor- tal discoverer of the circulation of the blood, has himself remark- ed that no physician of his time beyond the age of fOrty embrac- ed his doctrine and that his practice declined from the moment that he published his discovery. His reply to those who ridicul- ed his doctrine and traduced its author was worthy of a philoso- pher. "It would" he says "be unworthy of me to return oppro- brious language for theirs. I shall do better, for I will overcome opposition by truth ; and if they will consider with me the anato- my of the vilest insect, they will find a God equally in the hum- bler, as in the higher walks of creation." To him who advo- cates the new method of studying the mind, I would say, "go thou and do likewise" and the philosopher of another century, when descanting on the obstacles which mankind in its ignorance and prejudice has opposed to the march of science and of truth, will dwell with thrilling and emphatic eloquence on the trium- phant doctrine of Phrenology. It can scarcely be expected that an individual, imperfectly ac- quainted with the subject and withal feebly endowed with the qualifications of an advocate, is competent to offer a satisfactory refutation of the various objections which have been urged against it. It is not my purpose on the present occasion even to make the attempt, lest you attribute the failure to the weakness of the cause rather than the inability of the advocate : it is, therefore, proper that I assure you that the imperfect remarks I shall now offer, on some of the most prominent objections to Phrenology, are intended merely to suggest a careful examination of its mer- its. The citadel of truth is never taken by storm—it yields only to slow and prudent approaches—every alleged fact must be re- ceived with reserve, even with suspicion ; every objection exam- ined with respectful consideration—for if the pillars of an edifice be unsound or imperfect the whole building totters, and although it may endure for a time it must finally yield to the tempest that assails it and fall into a mass of shapeless ruin. The first objection which I shall notice would, if sound, sub- vert the whole system and deprive it at once of its "local habita. lion." l al]ul° tlJ the denial of the tact that the brain is the me- dium of me,.tal manifestation. This assertion is made only by those metaphysicians whose speculations are so purely immateri- al, as to induce them to deny that any thing is—but. what is not— Physiologists have long since conceded the point. Magedie, one of the most intelligent and least compromising of all the opponents of the new doctrines, and one of the first physiol- ogists of the age, says "the brain is the material organ of thought: this is proved by a number of facts and experiments." He goes farther,, and admits "that the volume of the brain and the capacity of the mind bear certain relations to each other." — A Committee of the French Institute, composed of most eminent physiologists, among them Cuvier, Pinel and and others, appoint- ed to report on the memoir of Gall and Spurzheim, though dif- fering from them in some respects, say "experience has early proved that the brain is the material instrument of our mind, and the essential organ of animal life." I might adduce farther evi- dence of the same character, from writers of equal ability, but it would be only the echo to that already cited. High as their au- thority is, I am content to reject it, and acknowledge that the sanc- tion of great names is not conclusive evidence of truth, and rest the decision on testimony from which there is no appeal; the same testimony which has proved, and alone proved, the func- tions of every organ which enters into the material composition of man—the testimony of observation and experience. The postulate will be admitted that as long as an organ is endowed with life and remains uninjured, it can perform its functions— when its life ceases, its power to perform its functions ceases.— Compare then the effect of the lesion or death of an organ, the functions of which are known, with lesion or death of the brain. While the ear is in perfect health for example, hearing, the function of the ear, is perfect; if the ear is injured or diseased, hear- ing is impaired; if its structure is destroyed, deafness is the re- sult. While the brain is uninjured, the mind is clear, distinct and regular in its operations; if disease assail it, or other injury be inflicted, the mind no longer acts with its wonted felicity ; when its life ceases and its functional power is, of course, de- Id stroyed. mcnt.d muiou-staio-i. i„ extinguished. Inlamui ition of the stomach causes vomiting, inflammation of the brain, delirium. A blow on the eve suspends the power of vision, a blow on the head suspends the mental operation. The retrocession of an eruption may cause difficult respiration, by affecting the lungs, or, if it affect the brain, insanily. If the brain is originally of de- fective conformation, the mind is defective—if healthy and fully developed, the mind is vigorous: as it varies with age in quality, bulk and developement, the mind varies. The brain is soft and partially developed in infancy, lie- mind weak and excitable: in the adult, the brain is firm and fully developed, (tie mind active and vigorous: in extreme old agv, the brain is contracted, inelas- tic and weighs, on an average, one fifteenth less than in the prime of life; the mind is dull, obtuse and almost insusceptible of im- pression. The laws of the mind too are precisely those of the functions. A certain degree of excitement strengthens it—too much exhausts it—physical agents affect it as is the case with the functions of other organs. An emetic excites vomiting—an opi- ate or ardent spirit, in excess, stupefies. We find, then, that the same observation and experience, which has disclosed to us the functions of other organs, disclosts to us the functions of the brain also, and that in no case is the healthy performance of a function more entirely dependent on the health of its peculiar organ, than is mental manifestation on the brain ; that the opera- tions of the mind never come under our cognizance but as con- nected with and influenced by certain changes in the state of the brain, and we are, therefore, fully authorized in drawing the in- ference, that it is by means of the brain that the mind acts upon, and is put in communication with, the external world. The im- material principle eludes our research, and we are obviously in- capable of attaining a knowledge af mind as it exists in its dis- embodied state, but that it does, in some inexplicable manner, act through the medium of organization is manifest. Compelled, by the combined force of authority and inductive reasoning, to admit that the brain is the organ of mind, another class of objectors contend that the whole brain constitutes but one organ, and that every part of it is employed in every mental act.— 10 The phrenologist, on the ether bund, contends that it is composed of a plurality of organs, and that one of them may be diseased, deficient, or more than us ndly vigorous, without affecting the state of the others; just as the organ of vision, of taste, or of touch, may be defective or diseased, while that of hearing, or of smell, remains in its usual state. Now let us test the two theo- ries, by reference to comparative anatomy and to the phenomena of mental manifestation in health and disease, and thus decide which has the strongest claim on our confidence and support.— Comparative anatomy informs us that as the number and activity of the faculties and feelings increase in the scale of the animal creation, from the lower orders to man, so also does the mass of brain multiply, not simply enlarge—for the sagacity of animals does not depend on the large size of the brain, either absolutely or relatively. The whale and the elephant have larger brains than man, but they are not so intelligent. The brain in the monkey and dog is smaller than in the ox and bog, and yet the former approach more nearly to the intellectual character of man than the latter. The wolf, tiger and sheep possess brain of the same class as to size, but they differ widely in sagacity : the same remark applies to the sparrow hawk, cock and pigeon. The pow- er of small brain is apparent in the spider and honey bee, both of which are remarkable for construetiveness and other striking powers. Nor is intelligence indicated by the relative size of the brain to the body. The sparrow, red breast, and several species of monkeys, have more brain in proportion to their bodies than man, The size of the brain being no test of intellectual power, analogy would induce the opinion that the difference of animals in that respect should be sought in greater complication of structure, ex- actly as we find in the physical constitution greater or less com- plexity as the animal occupies a higher or lower place in the scale of being. His locomotive and digestive apparatus is precisely adapted to the order of created beings to which he belongs; the beautiful harmony of nature would, therefore, authorize the con- clusion that the same principle has regulated the construction of his mental organ. Happily, however, it is unnecessary to assume the fact; comparative anatomy proves it. The grey portion of the 2'J brain disappears and the number and extent of the convolution? diminish in strict proportion as we descend ;n tie.' scale of animal organization. The brain, approaches in the same ratio, to the state cf a uniform and homogeneous mass and it probably is not until we have arrived at the very lowest grade of animal exis- tence that it actually assumes that character. Tracing the ope- rations of nature as we ascend the scale of the animal creation we find not only new- and more perfect organization of those struc- tures which are intended to perform the functions and administer to the wants of his physical nature, but that there is also a more perfect organization, by means of which their limited mental ope- rations or instincts are manifested. When we arrive at man, the most perfect of the animal creation, we find him endowed with powers unknown to the lower orders ; physically with organs of voice which enable him to utter articulate sounds ; with his loco- motive apparatus so arranged as to render his natural position erect, and that which in brutes is the anterior extremity termina- ted in him by that most useful and complicated instrument, the hand. Other evidences of a more perfect structure might be ad- duced but these are sufficient for our present purpose. If we ad- vert to his mental constitution, we. find that his superior physical powers are directed by an intellectual and rational principle, so in- finitely superior to that bestowed on brutes as at once to designate that he belongs to another class of being; and if we extend our researches to the. medium through which this principle operates, we find its structure different and its organization perfected by an addition of parts to be found in none of the lower animals. If, after we have established this general fact, we direct our investi- gation to the individuals of our species, we meet with obvious and striking varieties of developement. If you will look around on your associates, you will perceive that the size and form of the head is infinitely varied; in some instances one, part, in others, another most strongly developed; in one case, tbe forehead, in others, the posterior part of the head; some narrow, some broad, some arched on the summit, others flattened. So obvious are these peculiarities, that if it were customary to shave the head we should as readily recognize our acquaintances by them as we now 21 do by those of the countenance. From this variety of develope- ment, we should infer that there was a corresponding variety in the intellect, the sentiments and the propensities. Observation will fully sustain such inference. How infinite are the diversi- ties of human character in these respects. Examples will so readily occur to each of you that it is unnecessary to adduce them. This correspondence of variety of mental manifestation with va- riety of formation, both so striking as to be obvious to ordinary remark, ought alone to be sufficient to prove that the brain con- sists not of one only but of a plurality of organs;—but there are other circumstances familiar to you all, which will elucidate thii point. It is commonly remarked by farmers that they cannot success- fully cultivate the same vegetable in the same soil beyond a cer- tain number of repetitions; but that the soil which refuses to yield the article of which it is " tired," as it is technically term- ed, will still fully remunerate them for the cultivation of another. Science accounts for the fact by attributing it to the exhaustion of the nutritive principle adapted to the one, while that adapted to the other remains comparatively unimpaired; proving incontes- tibly that the soil is not one uniform mass, but composed of more than one constituent, and each constituent capable of sustaining some one plant in preference to another. This illustration will, on the principle of plurality of organs in the brain, enable us to account satisfactorily for the vigor and delight with which the mind will apply itself to some new subject, when satiated and fa- tigued with that which had previously occupied its attention.— The laborer, or man of business, when wearied with the toils of the day, finds a new and highly cherished pleasure in the retire- ment of his family and home. The student, with an aching head, lays down his work on abstract science, which has for hours task- ed his reasoning powers, and finds his mind gratified and refresh- ed by indulgence in lighter literature. These facts are explicable only on the principle of a plurality of mental organs: if it were otherwise, fatigue must necessarily involve the whole and not a part; and general, not partial, rest would be the only restorative. If we turn, for additional confirmation of this doctrine, to the phenomena presented by disease, we shall find the testimony irre- sistible. If it were true that the brain is an unit, and that every part participates in every mental act, it follows, of necessity, that insanity must also be an unit, varying only in degree: if total, that then the whole of the mental operations must be equally altered or abolished, or, if the disease be partial only, that every mental operation must be deranged precisely to the same extent; no individual operation suffering to a greater or less ex- tent than every other. But is this the fact ? Look at the records of insanity and they will tell you that it is rarely so perfect as to involve every mental operation, for, even in the most deplorable cases, some one " insane idea," as it was termed by the older meta- physicians, stands forth in bold relief. But the cases which most forcibly sustain the principle of a plurality of mental organs are those called Monomania, or derangement on some single subject— the mind remaining perfect on all others. Works, on mental alienation and medical jurisprudence, abound in well authentica- ted cases of this kind ; indeed one cannot visit a hospital for the insane without having one or more presented to his observation. The study of this aberration of intellect in extenso is most inter- esting to the physician and medical jurist, as well as the phren- ologist; and, but for the fear of trespassing on your kind attention, many interesting specimens of its various forms might be adduced. I will merely illustrate the subject by calling your attention to an instance, with which many of you, and especially my legal auditors, arc, I presume, already familiar. I allude to the celebrated case of James Hadficld, who was tried in the Court of King's Bench for high treason, in shooting at King George the Third, in Drury Lane Theatre. The excitement which such an event would produce, it will readily be conceived, was not likely to result in a verdict unduly favorable to the pris- oner. It was proved on the trial "that when he bought the pis- tol which he discharged at, or towards, the King he was well ac- quainted with the nature and use of it, that he was a soldier and knew it to be a sure instrument of death, that when he bought the gunpowder he knew it would prepare the pistol for his use that when he went tc the play hou^c he was going there and £3 every thing ■•onneeteJ with the scene as perfectly as any other person, and that nothing like insanity appeared to those who ex- amined him." The defence set up was, that he was possessed with an idea that it was necessary that he should be destroyed for the salvation of the world, but that he must not de- stroy himself, and that he had resorted to the expedient of shoot- ing at the king, as one which would most certainly effect his ob- ject. By the way, it was also proved, that this insane idea was caused by a wound on the head. He was defended by Mr. Ers- kine, who contended (hat he should be acquitted on the ground of insanity. He proved that monomania was recognized bv Courts of law, by quoting the high authority of Lord Hale, who says, "There is a partial insanity of mind and a total insanity.— Some persons that have a competent use of reason in respect of some subjects are yet under a particular delusion in respect of some particular discourses, subjects or applications." So conclusive was the argument of Mr. Erskine and so forcible his illustrations of this species of derangement that the defence was not even replied to and the prisoner was acquitted. I have selected this case as one which was, of course, so fully investigated as to place the ex- istence of such a disease beyond all question. Cases of a similar character were related on this trial by Mr. Erskine, so distinctly proving the existence of insanity on one subject and no other, that I must beg your permission to read them. " I well remember (indeed I never can forget it,) that since the noble and learned judge has presided in this court, I examined, for the greater part of a day, in this very place, an unfortunate gentleman who had indicted a most affectionate brother, together with the keeper of a mad-house at Hoxton, for having imprisoned him as a lunatic; whilst, according to his evidence, he was in his perfect senses. I was, unfortunately, not instructed in what his lunacy consisted, although my instructions left me no doubt of the fact; but, not not having the clue, he completely foiled me in every attempt to expose his infirmity. You may believe that I left no means un- employed which long experience dictated: but without the small- est effect. The day was wasted, and the prosecutor, by the most affecting history of unmerited suffering, appeared to the judge a and jury, and to a humane English audience, as the victim of the most wanton and barbarous oppression ; at last, Dr. Sims came in- to court, who had been prevented by business, from an earlier at- tendance; and whose name, by the bye, I observe to-day in the list of the witnesses for the Crown. From Dr. Sims, I soon learn- ed that the very man whom I had been above an hour examining, and with every possible effort which counsel are so much in the habit of exerting, believed himself to be the Lord and Saviour of mankind; not merely at the time of his confinement, which was alone necessary for my defence; but during the whole time that he had been triumphing over every attempt to surprize him in the. con- cealment of his disease. 1 then affected to lament the indecen- cy of my ignorant examination, when he expressed his forgive- ness, and said with the utmost gravity and emphasis, in the face of the whole Court, "I am the Christ ;" and so the cause en- ded. Gentleman, this is not the only instance of the power of concealing this malady ; I could consume the day if I were to enumerate them; but there is one so extremely remarkable, that I cannot help stating it. Being engaged to attend the assizes at Chester upon a question of lunacy, and having been told that there had been a memorable case tried before Lord Mansfield in this place, I was anxious to procure a report of it; and from that great man himself (who within these walls will ever be reverenced, being then retired in his extreme old age, to his seat near London, in my own neigh- bourhood) I obtained the following account of it: "A man of the name of Wood," said Lord Mansfield, "had indicted Dr. Monro for keeping him as a prisoner (I believe in the same mad-house at Hoxton) when he was sane. He underwent the most severe examination by the defendant's Counsel without exposing his complains; but Doctor Battye, having come upon the Bench by me, and having desired me to ask him what was become of the princess whom he had corresponded with in cherry juice he showed in a moment what he was. He answered, that there was nothing at all in that, because having been (as every body knew) imprisoned in a high tower, and being debarred the use of ink, he had no other means of correspondence but by writing his letters ui cherry-juice, and throwing them into the river which surroun- ded the tower, where the Princess received them in a beat.— There existed, of course, no tower, no imprisonment, no writing in cherry juice, no river, no boat; but the whole the inveterate phantom of a morbid imagination, I immediately," continued Lord Mansfield, "directed Mr. Monro to be acquitted; but this man. Wood, being a merchant in Philpot Lane, and having been carried through the city in.his way to the mad-house, he indict- ed Dr. Monro over again, for the trespass and imprisonment in London, knowing that he had lost his cause by speaking of the Princess at Westminster; and such," said Lord Mansfield, "is the extraordinary subtlety and cunning of mad-men, that when he was cross-examined on the trial in London, as he had success- fully been before, in order to expose his madness, all the ingenu- ity of the Bar, and all the authority of the Court, could not make him say a single syllable upon that topic, which had put an end to the indictment before, although he still had the same indelible impression upon his mind, as he signified to those who were near him ; but, conscious that the delusion had occasioned his defeat at Westminster, he obstinately persisted in holding it back."* It appears to me impossible that any course of reasoning can reconcile cases of this kind with the position that the brain is an unit and that every part of it is engaged in the performance of every mental act. Additional proofs of a plurality of mental or- gans might be derived from somnambulism, which is a state of in- complete sleep, in which some of the organs are watching, oth- ers asleep ; from visions and similar phenomena; from the succes- sive development of the brain and the simultaneous manifesta- tions of the corresponding passions and powers; but enough has, I think, been said to prove that the brain is composed of many organs, each of which is as capable of acting independently of the others, as are the organs of the senses capable of executing pe- culiar functions each one for itself. Another objection which has been urged against the doctrines of * Those who feel an interest in tkis subject will find many moat singular and striking illustrations of monomania in th« lecturei of Andral, on mental alienation. Phrenology is, that they afford positive support io the gloomy and untenable heresy of unavoidable and irresistible Necessity, or, as it is commonly'called, Fatalism; thereby denying, as a mat- ter of course, that Man is in any way accountable for his con- duct. That evil exists in the moral constitution of man is one of those lamentable truths, which morality and philosophy may de- plore, but cannot deny. The voice of inspiration itself assures us that the heart of man is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked, and he who can deny the awful truth musl be alike unac- quainted with tlie impulse of his own feelings and " With every