"In all ages the man whose determinations are swayed by 
 reference to the most distant ends has been held to possess 
 the highest intelligence." 
 
 J^* WILLIAM JAMES 
 
 From the library of Anthony A. Walsh 
 West Harwich, Massachusetts 
 
 Catalogue No. Series, 
 
BOHN'S ARTISTS' LIBRARY. 
 
 ANATOMY AND PHILOSOPHY 
 
 OF 
 
 EXPRESSION. 
 
THE 
 
 ANATOMY AND PHILOSOPHY 
 
 OF 
 
 EXPRESSION 
 
 AS CONNECTED WITH THE FINE ART& 
 
 BY 
 
 SIE CHAELES BELL, K. H. 
 
 SEVENTH EDITION, REVISED. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 GEORGE BELL & SONS, YORK ST., COYENT GARDEN, 
 AND NEW YORK. 
 1893. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 BWRINTED PBOM THE STEREOTYPE PLATES BY WM. CLOWES & SONS, LTD., 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TO 
 
 THE THIRD EDITION. 
 
 These Essays formed the earliest and the latest occu 
 pation of the lamented author's leisure hours; — and 
 they now appear under the disadvantages which must 
 attend a posthumous publication. 
 
 It was tne habit of the author, in his literary compo- 
 sitions, to sketch his first ideas as they arose ; and parts 
 of this work were found evidently intended to be 
 revised and corrected. They are faithfully added to 
 the text of the last edition, where they bear upon the 
 subject. 
 
 The following prefatory remarks are from the pen 
 of the late Professor Bell,* to whom, in the warmth of 
 brotherly affection, the second edition of the work had 
 been inscribed. 
 
 The Essays which are now presented to the public 
 in their enlarged form, were originally composed, as the 
 
 * George Joseph Bell, Professor of the Law of Scotland in tho 
 University of Edinburgh. He died September 23, 1843. 
 
 a b 
 
vi 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 author fondly said in his dedication, " when we studied 
 together before the serious pursuits of life began ;" but 
 were not published till the year 1806, after the author 
 nad left Edinburgh and fixed his residence in London. 
 A second edition appeared in 1824 ; but he resisted 
 ever} 7 call for a new impression until he should have 
 had an opportunity of verifying in Italy the principles 
 of criticism in art, by the study of the works of the 
 great masters in painting and sculpture. 
 
 With this view he visited the Continent in 1840; 
 and on his return he recomposed the whole for a new 
 edition, introducing occasional extracts from his journal, 
 sometimes to enforce the texts and sometimes to shew 
 from what authority he drew his conclusions. 
 
 In a declining state of health he had taken advantage 
 of a recess in his professorial duties in the University 
 of Edinburgh to revisit his friends in England. He 
 hoped in the leisure of the country to give this work a 
 final revisal for the press ; but before he had fulfilled 
 his wishes in this respect, his life was terminated by an 
 access of his illness at Hallow Park, in Worcestershire, 
 on the 29th of April, 1842. 
 
 In the speculations of which this work is the result, 
 and in the interesting inquiries to which they led, Sir 
 Charles Bell was accustomed to seek relief from the 
 wearing anxiety which, from his exquisite sensibility 
 to human suffering, had ever attended the practice ot 
 His profession : but a still greater effect was to follow. 
 It was from these investigations that he was first led 
 to make those discoveries in the system of the nerves, 
 
PEEFACE. vii 
 
 which are now acknowledged to be the most important 
 contributions of modern times to the science of 
 Physiology. 
 
 Before Sir Charles Bell's time, the nerves, which 
 pervade every the minutest portion of our frame, 
 seemed, in the studies of anatomists, a mass of inextric- 
 able confusion and a subject of hopeless obscurity ; but 
 he believed that in the works of the Creator there is 
 nothing imperfect or unnecessarily complex, and that 
 the solution of this apparent confusion was not beyond 
 the reach of human inquiry. In tracing the causes 
 of movements in the countenance and in the frame of 
 the body under the influence of passion or emotion, he 
 engaged in a very careful inquiry into the origin, course, 
 and destination of the nerves ; and consequent investi- 
 gations led him to those fundamental truths, hitherto 
 unperceived, by which he, and those who have followed 
 his course, have revealed to the medical world the beauti- 
 ful simplicity of this part of the animal economy. To 
 the physiologist it will be particularly interesting to 
 trace in this work the steps by which the author was 
 led to the comprehension of that most intricate portion 
 of the nervous system, the class of nerves which he has 
 named respiratory ; a subject so difficult, that it was 
 long before his views were acknowledged by the medical 
 profession. 
 
 Meanwhile his labours and his anxiety were relieved 
 by the variety of his pursuits. He was a true lover of 
 nature, and to trace the proofs of perfection and design 
 in all the works of the Creator was to him a source of 
 
viii 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 ever new delight. Constantly he had some useful, some 
 noble purpose in view, whether in following up scientific 
 inquiry, or in enthusiastically pursuing nature or art. 
 Those who knew him best, and had seen him in the 
 most trying circumstances of lifs, were most sensible 
 that there never was a man whose mind was more 
 uniformly attuned to grateful happiness. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAG 8 
 
 Introduction. — Comparison of Ancient and Modern Art — 
 
 Studies of the Italian Masters .... 1 
 
 Essay I. Theory of Beauty in the Countenance — Of the 
 
 Form and Proportions of the Head and Face . 17 
 
 Essay II. Changes from Infancy to Age 42 
 
 Of the Skull, as a Protection to the Brain ... 46 
 
 The Characteristic Forms of Animals .... 49 
 
 The Characteristic Organs of Man 52 
 
 Theories of Ideal Beauty 58 
 
 National Peculiarities in the Form of the Head . 65 
 
 Essay III. Of those Sources of Expression in the Coun- 
 tenance which cannot be explained on the idea 
 of a direct Influence of the Mind upon the 
 
 Features 76 
 
 Blushing 88 
 
 Essay IV. Of the Muscles of the Face in Man 90 
 
 Muscles of the Forehead and Eyebrow . . 91 
 
 Expression of the Human Eye .... 94 
 
 Muscles of the Nostrils 99 
 
 Muscles of tlie Lips and Cheeks . . .100 
 
 Beard 105 
 
 Expression in the Lips and Moustaches . 108 
 
 Essay V. Of the Expression of Passion, illustrated by a 
 Comparison of the Muscles of the Face in 
 Man and in Animals ; and of the Muscles 
 peculiar to Man, and their effects in bestow- 
 ing Human Expression . . . . . .112 
 
 Expression in Animals ... .... 113 
 
 The Muscles of Animals . 120 
 
X 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Essay VI. Of Expression in tLe Human Countenance . . 131 
 
 Laughter 134 
 
 Weeping 136 
 
 Grief 139 
 
 Essay VII. Of Pain 113 
 
 Demoniacs 145 
 
 Convulsions. . 146 
 
 Fear, 148 
 
 Terror 152 
 
 Despair , .153 
 
 Admiration 155 
 
 Joy 155 
 
 Jealousy , 157 
 
 Kage 158 
 
 Remorse 160 
 
 Madness. ........... 160 
 
 Death 164 
 
 Essay VIII. Of Expression in reference to the Body . . .171 
 The Emotions modified by controlling Expression 179 
 
 Essay IX. The Study of Anatomy, as necessary to Design . 183 
 Of the Genius and Studies of Michael Angelo 
 
 Buonarotti 186 
 
 The Study of Anatomy 191 
 
 Essay X. Of the Uses of Anatomy to the Painter . . .193 
 Faults into which the Artist may be betrayed in 
 
 studying the Antique 195 
 
 Or in drawing from the Academy Figure . . . 199 
 Anatomy, as conducting to Truth of Expression 
 
 and of Character 202 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Of the Nerves, by Alexander Shaw » • 209 
 
 Explanation of the Plates .. r • 247 
 
LIST OF PLATES. 
 
 Ib face 
 
 Age and Infancy Page 42 
 
 Prayer 96 
 
 Horse's Head (Giulio Bomand) 117 
 
 Do. with Muscles 118 
 
 Do. (Northcote) 120 
 
 Laughter. 134 
 
 Weeping ......... 136 
 
 Pain 144 
 
 Demoniac ......... 146 
 
 Convulsions 146 
 
 Fear with Wonder 148 
 
 Terror 152 
 
 Jealousy . . 156 
 
 Rage 158 
 
 Remorse 160 
 
 Madness . • t 160 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Plate I. Skulks , 247 
 
 „ II. Muscles of the Face . 249 
 „ III. Muscles of Dog's Face .... 250 
 „ IV. Nerves of the Face and Neck . . 253 
 
PUBLISHERS' NOTICE. 
 
 The frequent reference which has been made to Sir Charles 
 Bell's Treatise on Expression in recent lectures on Art, and 
 the generally admitted value of the work as an aid to the Art 
 student, have induced the Publishers to issue a revised edition 
 in a cheap and handy form. 
 
ON EXPRESSION. 
 
 INTEODUCTION. 
 
 It is not an easy task to reconcile two subjects so far 
 apart in the minds of most readers as Anatomy and 
 the Fine Arts; but if prejudices, early imbibed, be 
 thrown off, it will be found that there is no science, 
 taken in a comprehensive sense, more fruitful of in- 
 struction, or leading to more interesting subjects of 
 inquiry, than the knowledge of the Animal body, 
 
 The academies of Europe, instituted for the improve- 
 ment of painting, stop short of the science of anatomy, 
 which is so well suited to enlarge the mind, and to 
 train the eye for observing the forms of Nature ; or 
 if they enforce the study at all, it is only in its more 
 obvious application, that of assisting the drawing of 
 the human figure. But my design in this volume 
 goes further : — I propose to direct attention to the 
 characteristic forms of man and brutes, by an inquiry 
 into the natural functions, with a view to comprehend 
 the rationale of those changes in the countenance and 
 figure which are indicative of Passion. 
 
 A just feeling in the fine arts is an elegant acquire- 
 ment and capable of cultivation. Drawing is necessary 
 to many pursuits and useful arts : Locke has included 
 it amongst the accomplishments becoming a gentleman, 
 and, we may add, it is mach more useful to the artisan. 
 Good taste and execution in design are necessary to 
 
2 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 manufactures; and consequently they contribute to 
 the resources of a country. 
 
 I am not without hope that a new impulse may be 
 given to the cultivation of the fine arts, by explaining 
 their relation to the natural history of man and 
 animals ; and by shewing how a knowledge of outward 
 form, and the accuracy of drawing which is a con- 
 sequence of it, are related to the interior structure and 
 functions. 
 
 Anatomy, in its relation to the arts of design, is, in 
 truth, the grammar of that language in which they 
 address us. The expressions, attitudes, and movements 
 of the human figure are the characters of this language, 
 adapted to convey the effect of historical narration, as 
 well as to shew the working of human passion, and 
 to give the most striking and lively indications of 
 intellectual power and energy. 
 
 The art of the painter, considered with a view to 
 these interesting representations, assumes a high cha- 
 racter. Every lesser embellishment and minuteness 
 of detail is regarded by an artist who has those more 
 enlarged views of his profession as foreign to the main 
 design, distracting and hurtful to the grand effect, 
 admired only as accurate imitations, almost ajopearing 
 to be what they are not. This distinction must be 
 felt, or we shall never see the grand style in painting 
 receive that encouragement which results from public 
 feeling and good taste. The painter must not be 
 satisfied to copy and represent what he sees ; he must 
 cultivate this talent of imitation merely as bestowing 
 those facilities which are to give scope to the exertions 
 of his genius ; as the instruments and means only 
 which he is to employ for communicating his thoughts, 
 and presenting to others the creations of his fancy ; it 
 is by his creative powers alone that he can become 
 truly a painter; and for these he is to trust to original 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 3 
 
 genius, cultivated and enriched by a constant observa- 
 tion of nature. Till he has acquired a poet's eye for 
 nature, and can seize with intuitive quickness the 
 appearances of passion, and all the effects produced 
 upon the body by the operations of the mind, he has 
 not raised himself above the mechanism of his art, nor 
 does he rank with the poet or historian. 
 
 It is a happy characteristic of the present times, that 
 a love of the fine arts is becoming more and more pre- 
 valent among the affluent ; but still, rich furniture, 
 mere ornamental painting and gilding, usurp the place 
 of art properly so called. The mansion of an English 
 nobleman and that of a Roman of the same rank 
 present a singular contrast. The former exhibits car- 
 pets, silk hangings, lamps, mirrors, china, and perhaps 
 books. The palazzo, on the other hand, in its general 
 aspect, may betray antiquity and decay ; yet respect 
 for ancestry retains on its walls the proofs of former 
 grandeur and taste ; there hang many pictures, each of 
 which would purchase an English villa or furnish a 
 London mansion in all the extravagance of fashion. 
 Vulgar curiosity may seek admittance to the finery of 
 the one, while princes are gratified by admission to the 
 other. 
 
 Original genius seems peculiarly necessary to ex- 
 cellence in design. Good taste may be acquired by 
 familiarity with statues and paintings, and by the con- 
 versation of the ingenious ; but the power of execution 
 depends on deeper sources. Jn reading Vasari, we are 
 struck by the difficulties with which the famous painters 
 had to struggle. There is hardly one of them who 
 had not to combat parental authority before obtaining 
 ]eave to give up his days to painting; nor is it sur- 
 prising that there should be an unwillingness to permit 
 a youth to dedicate his life to an art so little gainful, 
 wheie extraordinary excel] ence alone obtains notice, and 
 
 b 2 
 
4 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 hardly ever an adequate reward. I speak of the higher 
 department of art. 
 
 Much has been done at home by the force of genius 
 alone. Our native artists have vindicated us from the 
 aspersion of Winckelmann, that genius for the fine arts 
 is stinted in these northern climes, — a notion which 
 has prevailed so extensively as even to have influenced 
 our own Milton : — 
 
 "Unless an age too late, or cold 
 Climate, or years, damp my intended wing." 
 
 In his history of ancient art, Winckelmann seems to 
 attribute all to climate ; not only the perfection of form 
 in the inhabitants of Greece, but their serenity of 
 mind, sweetness, and love of beauty. Such a theory 
 would imply that the people of Sparta and Athens were 
 characterized by the same qualities. But when Spai ta 
 triumphed, it was in pride and rapacity. Neither the 
 general intercourse between nations, nor commerce, nor 
 intellectual nor moral excellence, derived any benefit 
 from her ascendancy.* Athens was the mistress of the 
 world ; and she has left examples of the greatest virtues 
 and excellence in philosophy, eloquence, poetry, and 
 art ; yet she has also shown humiliating instances of 
 tyranny, cruelty, and blood. The history of Greece 
 is the record of incessant wars, of towns sacked, and 
 of citizens inhumanly massacred. And in Athens war 
 was always justified, if it promised advantage ; when 
 tried by misfortune, she was found wanting : during 
 pestilence, every affection was blunted ; and licentious- 
 ness abounded to such a degree, that the people became 
 brutalized. It is strange that Winckelmann should 
 attribute so much to the influence of climate, seeing 
 that where the olive still ripens, in the long summer ol 
 Greece, not a vestige of those virtues which were the 
 * Arnold's " HistGry of Rome." 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 admiration of the world now exists : and centuries ha7e 
 passed without a poet or philosopher appearing, in the 
 country of Homer and Plato. 
 
 In the soil and climate of Italy, there have existed 
 together states of society the most dissimilar. Among 
 the Etruscans, and in the cities of Central Italy, the 
 arts and civilization of Egypt and Phoenicia had taken 
 root, long before Rome* arose to crush them. Her 
 policy, and the leaning of her most virtuous citizens, 
 were adverse to the arts. They feared that whilst 
 they refined they should soften away those rugged 
 and sterner qualities of the Roman soldiers which 
 were bestowing on them the empire of the world. But 
 the old virtues at length declined, and the Romans 
 came to covet the luxuries of conquered nations, whom 
 they could not rival in refinement or the arts ; so that 
 Rome became the centre and the common receptacle of 
 the spoils of Egypt, Greece, and Italy. 
 
 The inquiry into the history of ancient art were an 
 idle one, if it did not lead to the conviction that 
 
 * A more just estimate is now made, than formerly, of the early 
 Romans, anil of the virtues of the surrounding tribes. (Dr. Arnold's 
 " History of Rome.") The remains discovered in the tombs of 
 Tarquinii, Tuscania, Argyllae, Veii, and Clusium, leave no doubt 
 of the high advancement of art in these cities, centuries before the 
 foundation of Home — at least of its fabled rise under Romulus. 
 These cities were the adversaries of the early Romans ; and, 
 though subdued, furnished to their masters the elements of govern- 
 ment and of civil policy. Rome had conquered the surrounding 
 states, and sought to blot out all memory of them ; when new 
 se tlements of Greeks (giving name to the district of Magna 
 GrsBcia) again offered to her a more extended field of enterpr se, 
 in which the arts of peace were once more subjugated under her 
 iron sway. 
 
 If I did not believe that Providence rules in the march of 
 nations, I should say, that the world would have advanced in 
 philosophy, literature, and art, more rapidly but for that stern, 
 remorseless people, obstinate against instruction. We are biassed 
 in favour of Rome from her language containing the only record 
 of much that, but for her conquests, would have spread with 
 earlier, and happier influence, over the western world. 
 

 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 institutions, niLch more than climate, influence the 
 faculties of man. Indolence steals upon communities 
 as upon individuals. In the same regions, and in the 
 same climate, the inhabitants are at one time over- 
 whelmed in ignorance and superstition, and at another, 
 elevated to the most admired intellectual exertions. 
 When the energies of a people are roused, there is an 
 improvement in the arts of peace, however gloomy and 
 foreboding the struggle may at first appear. The mind 
 excited by public events does not subside into indo- 
 lence. In Athens the struggle for power, and the 
 desire of independence, forced the highest talents to 
 the highest station. It was during the contests of the 
 free states of Italy that the arts revived.* 
 
 Perhaps we should attribute the cultivation of litera 
 ture and the arts in Italy more to the smallness of the 
 states than to the forms of their governments, for these 
 were of every kind. While in Rome the Pope was an 
 absolute sovereign, in Venice the nobility had raised an 
 oligarchic authority on the necks of the people ; and 
 both were distinguished from the democratic turbulence 
 of Florence. 
 
 In the great kingdoms of Modern Europe, princes 
 are surrounded by a dense body of courtiers, political 
 agents, and soldiers, numerous and clamorous in pro- 
 portion to the offices of command and places to be 
 bestowed. All who are distinguished by excellence in 
 liberal studies are jostled aside, and the prince knows 
 little of men of genius, far less does he think of making 
 them friends. But in the smaller states of Italy, 
 princes sought the acquaintance of men remarkable 
 for their talent, for the cultivation of philosophy, of 
 the language of Greece, or of Ancient Rome, for the 
 improvement of their native Italian, and of poetry, or 
 
 * See "Roscoe's introductory cnap'.?r to tho "Life of Lorenzo di 
 Medici." 
 
INTRODUCTION, 
 
 7 
 
 of the fine arts : and it is pleasant to notice how easily 
 the presence or absence of such men affected the 
 splendour of the court. Amidst the more than barbaric 
 magnificence and riches of modern courts, certainly of 
 our own, the exit or entrance of such men would be 
 unmarked. 
 
 Perhaps the circumstance that all negotiations were 
 formerly conducted in Latin, and the consequent 
 necessity for courtiers being acquainted with the 
 learned languages, gave a liberal tone to the men of 
 influence in the several states, and a disposition to 
 promote literature and science. Some authors have 
 attributed the genius of the Greeks, and their love of 
 philosophy and art, to the conformation of the brain, 
 — to the form of the skull ! On this subject I may 
 have occasion to touch hereafter. But does not history 
 determine the question? The Greeks were not extir- 
 pated by the Eoman conquests. The skulls of a people 
 do not change. During all the period of the Byzantine 
 Empire, between the reigns of Constantine and Palaeo- 
 logus, luxury, sloth and effeminacy prevailed, whilst 
 the people of the West of Europe were rising in moral 
 and intellectual energy, and in the cultivation of the 
 mind.* 
 
 During the latter periods of Ancient Eome, a fashion 
 arose which conduced much to the advancement of art, 
 and filled the city with its thousand statues. The 
 Eomans, like the Greeks, sought a species of im- 
 mortality by the erection of their busts and statues ; 
 they consecrated their friends by setting up their busts 
 in their temples. These being given in honour of the 
 divinity whom they worshipped, were preserved even 
 when the personages they represented had incurred the 
 odium of the people, and when their statues placed in 
 
 * See Pilchard's <: Physical History of Man." He justly con 
 iro verts the idea of Blunienbach. 
 
8 
 
 INTROl/UCTION. 
 
 public were cast down. This desire of obtaining the 
 busts of illustrious men* explains the reason of the 
 multitude of those found collected in the Vatican : they 
 are chiefly in marble ; for the statues and busts in 
 bronze and other metals tempted the cupidity of men 
 in the middle ages, and were melted down. We are 
 struck, too, with the number of the busts of celebrated 
 men in proportion to those of princes ; which Visconti 
 believes to have been owing to the desire which pre- 
 vailed among private citizens in the better ages of 
 Greece and Eome, to have them copied, as appropriate 
 ornaments for their libraries, porticos, and gardens. 
 
 The remains of antiquity in Italy, the presence, 
 though in ruins, of temples, statues, sarcophagi, altars, 
 and relievos, account for the early revival of art in 
 that country. These must have been the studies of 
 Donatellof and Ghiberti, as afterwards of Buonarroti ; 
 for sculpture led the way to painting. Our country- 
 men, pursuing their studies there, are placed under 
 similar influences, and give proof that it is neither 
 genius nor devotion to the imitative arts which is 
 wanting in the north. But the time is past when the 
 people knelt down before the works of a sculptor's 
 hands; when the Amphictyons, the council of all 
 
 * On this subject, see the Preface to Visconti's " Iconographie." 
 
 f If all the great works of Grecian art had been at once dis- 
 closed, it might not have produced the happy effect of thy suc- 
 cessive exhumations of the splendid works of antiquity; the 
 excitement, or, as Cicognara has expressed it, " un certo fermento," 
 kept up by the contest of princes for these works of art, gave 
 importance to all who sought to imitate them, and raised them in 
 the estimation of even the most vulgar minds. The progress in 
 the history of art seems to have been — First, the establishment of 
 new families ; then, the erection of splendid palaces and the 
 necessity or convenience of digging for materials in the foundation 
 of ancient buildings ; next, the exhumation of fine stitues, and 
 the emulation thence arising; lastly, the desire of having professors 
 and universities arose, and this took place at a time when the 
 pontiffs were banished from Rome. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 9 
 
 Greece, gave him solemn thanks, and assigned him a 
 dwelling at the public expense in every city !* 
 
 It is in vain that we dream of equalling the great 
 works of antiquity ; they were raised under tyranny 
 and false religions. We must hope for excellence, in 
 a different condition, as the fruit of a religion of love, 
 joy, and peace. If the arts of design bear no relation 
 to that which has the greatest influence on mankind ; 
 if they stand related neither to religion, nor to the 
 records of history, nor to the progress of empire, — they 
 must be ever, as a dead language, associated with 
 ancient times ; and with us, nothing more than a 
 handmaid to domestic ornament and individual re- 
 finement and enjoyment. 
 
 Our artists should be brought to consider the 
 changed frame of society. No one in these modern 
 times, however much he may deserve the gratitude of 
 mankind, is exalted as they would desire to see the 
 proficient in art. The young artists madden themselves 
 by the contemplation of antiquity, which leads to dis- 
 appointment and repining age. The last conversation 
 I had with Flaxman, whose genius was better estimated 
 abroad than at home, was whilst the old man was 
 elevated on a great block of marble, in his studio 
 (Anglice, a shed). " Ay," says he, " we shall see what 
 is thought of these things two hundred years hence." 
 Yes, but they will record these things in stereotype, 
 not in marble. Printing banished sculpture, and no 
 man now, or hereafter, in addressing the people, will, 
 
 * Tiraboschi refers to an ancient chronicle regardiDg the 
 Dominican chnrch of Keggio, erected in 1233, for an example of 
 the enthusiasm under which great edifices were built, and where 
 all grades of society wrought as common labourers, like emmets in 
 an ant-hill. " Tarn parvi, quam magni, tarn nobiles, quam pedites, 
 tarn rustici, quam cives, ferebant lapides, sablouem, et calcinam, 
 supra dorsum eorum . . « . et beatus ille qui plus portare poterat," 
 
10 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 like Fabius Maximus, or Seipio, point to the statues 
 of his ancestors. 
 
 Without cherishing vain regrets, there is a source 
 of infinite delight in art, even as cultivated among us ; 
 and we may hold the remains of antiquity as super- 
 lative models. Gods and goddesses we shall not again 
 see in marble, but the human figure in its perfection we 
 certainly may. The Greeks gave prizes for excelling 
 beauty. Among them a youth might be celebrated 
 for the perfection of his eyebrow ; and the proportions 
 of an Aspasia were transferred to the statue of a 
 goddess. The forms of strength and the proportions of 
 the victor in the games were scientifically noted and 
 recorded, whether it was for wrestling, running, 01 
 pitching the discus. Here, then, were studies for the 
 sculptor, and a public to judge of the perfection of his 
 work. Our connoisseurs never see the naked figure, 
 or, if they do, it is an academy figure, — probably some 
 hired artisan, with his muscles unequally developed by 
 the labour of his trade, — pale and shivering, and offer- 
 ing none of those fine carnations which more constant 
 exposure gives to the body, as we see in the face, nor 
 having that elegant freedom of limb, which youth, 
 under a genial climate and the various exercises of the 
 gymnasium, acquired.* 
 
 For the improvement of art, there must be a feeling 
 in the public in correspondence with the artist's aspi- 
 rations. | In visiting the Sistine Chapel, I said to 
 
 * So conscious were some of the Grecian states of the advantages 
 derived from exercise, that they denied them to their slaves. 
 
 f I cannot withhold the following instance of public feeling in 
 England : — When Lord Elgin brought to London the figures of 
 the beautiful frieze from the Parthenon of Athens, and while they 
 remained in his court-yard in Piccadilly, he proposed a great treat 
 to his friends. He had entertained an ingenious notion that, by 
 exposing the natural figures of some of our modern athlete in 
 contrast with the marbles, the perfection of the antique would be 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 1] 
 
 the celebrated artist who accompanied me, " How 
 could Michael Angelo venture to do such things ? 
 Were such a man to arise amongst us, he would meet 
 with ridicule, or live in neglect." But my friend said, 
 " Do you not remember the impatience of Julius to see 
 these paintings during their execution? For Michael 
 Angelo being unwilling to let his unfinished work be 
 seen, the Pope threatened to break down the whole 
 scaffolding on which the painting was raised." It was 
 by such enthusiasm, and the consequent encouragement 
 of art, that Julius has justly participated in the fame 
 of those who made his days an era in the world. 
 
 It is perhaps favourable to painting, that it has not 
 to contend with the excellence of antiquity. In visit- 
 ing the schools of Florence and Bologna, and the 
 galleries of the Vatican, we can trace the successive 
 works of the early painters and the progress of modern 
 painting. In the commencement, the subjects are such 
 as could only be suggested by monkish superstition 
 and enthusiasm. They are the representations of the 
 wasted figures of anchorites, or if of women they are 
 suffering martyrdom. Even the Saviour, represented 
 so full of beauty in after-time, is painted from the dead 
 of the lazar-house or hospital. The purpose must have 
 been to subdue the mind.* With better times the 
 
 felt, and that we should see that the sculptors of the best time of 
 Greece did not deviate from nature. The noblemen and gentlemen 
 whom he conceived would take an interest in this display were 
 invited, lie had the boxers, the choice men of what is term* d 
 * 4 the fancy." They stripped and sparred before the ancient 
 statues, and for one instant it was a very fine exhibition ; but no 
 sooner was the bulky form of Jackson, no longer young, opposed to 
 the fine elastic figure of the champion of all England, than a cry 
 arose, and "the ring'' pressed forward, and ancient art and the 
 works of Phidias were forgotten. Such I fear is the feeling of even 
 the better part of the English public. Let not the young sculptor 
 be too sanguine of support. 
 
 * " In the old library in Basle there is a remarkable painting 
 
J2 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 influence of the Church was more huppily exercised, 
 and finer feelings prevailed. The subjects were from 
 the Scriptures, and noble efforts were made, attesting a 
 deep feeling of every condition of humanity. What 
 we see in the churches of Italy, and almost in every 
 church, is the representation of innocence and tender- 
 ness in the Madonna and Child, and in the young St. 
 John. Contrasted with the truth, and beauty, and 
 innoceuce of the Virgin, there is the mature beauty 
 and abandonment of the Magdalen. In the dead Christ, 
 in the swooning of the Mother of the Saviour, and in 
 the Marys, there is the utmost scope for the genius of 
 the painter. We see there, also, the grave character of 
 mature years in the Prophets and Evangelists, and the 
 grandeur of expression in Moses. In short, we have 
 the whole range of human character and expression, 
 from the divine loveliness and purity of the Infant 
 Saviour, of Angels and of Saints, to the strength, fierce- 
 ness, and brutality of the executioners. There, also, 
 we may see the effort made, the greatest of all, in 
 imitation of the ancients, to infuse divinity into the 
 human beauty of that countenance, which, though not 
 without feeling, was superior to passion, and in which 
 benevolence was to be represented unclouded by human 
 infirmity. These were the subjects to call forrh the 
 exertions of genius, while the rewards were the riches 
 of the church, and the public exhibition, in unison with 
 
 of Christ by the younger Holbein. The painter must have been 
 where anatomy was to be learned ; for I am much mistaken if he 
 has not painted from the dead body in an hospital. It is horribly 
 true. There is here the true colour of the dead body : (the Italian 
 painters generally paint the dead of an ivory white). Here is the 
 rigid, stringy appearance of the muscles about the knee. The 
 wounds where the nails have penetrated the bands and feet are 
 dark red, with extravasation round the wound, and the hand itself 
 of the livid colour of mortification. The eyes, too, shew from 
 whence he drew; the eyelids are open, the pupil raised, and a little 
 turned out. Holbein born here, in 1498." — Note from Journal. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 13 
 
 iiie deep feelings of the people. Thus did religion at a 
 later peiiod tend to restore what it had almost destroyed 
 on the overthrow of Pagan idolatry. For the new- 
 born zeal of the first Christians sought to efface every 
 monument of the antique religion, throwing down the 
 statues, destroying the mosaics and pictures, effacing 
 every memorial, and razing the ancient temples, or 
 converting them into Christian churches. 
 
 The Church of Eome has favoured the arts in a 
 remarkable manner. The ceremonial and decorations 
 of the altar have been contrived with great felicity. 
 He is insensible to beauty who, being a painter, does 
 not catch their ideas of light and shade, and colour. 
 The Gothic or rich Eoman architecture, the carved 
 screen, the statues softened by a subdued light, form 
 altogether a magnificent scene. The effects of light 
 and colour are not matters of accident. The painted 
 glass of the high window represents to the superficial 
 observer no more than the rich garments of the figures 
 there painted. But the combination of colours evinces 
 science; the yellows and greens, in due proportion 
 with the crimsons and blues, throw beams of an 
 autumnal tint among the shafts and pillars, and colour 
 the volumes of rising incense. The officials of the 
 altar, the priests in rich vestments, borrowed from the 
 Levites under the old law, are somewhat removed from 
 the -spectator and obscured by the smoke of the 
 incense.* The young men flinging the silver censers, 
 
 * If the painter requires to know these vestments, he will find 
 an account of them in Eustace's " Classical Tour through Italy," 
 vol. ii. Antiquity characterises everything in the Koman Church ; 
 and to the English traveller this affords additional interest. The 
 eeremcnies are ancient ; the language of the service is that which 
 prevailed at the period of the introduction of Christianity ; the 
 vestnuents are Jewish— at all events very ancient and majestic. 
 Like everything else in painting, the artist should know the 
 origin and uses of the drapery, or his lines and folds will bfj 
 unmeaning. — (See Pre/ace to Vasari.^ 
 
14 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 in themselves "beautiful, and making the volumes of 
 incense rise, give the effect of a tableau, defying 
 imitation ; for where can there be such a combination 
 to the eye, joined to the emotions inspired by the 
 pealing organ, the deep chant, and the response of the 
 youthful choristers, whose voices seem to come from 
 the vaulted roof? There is something too in the be- 
 lief that the chant of the psalms is the early Jewish 
 measure. 
 
 It was scarcely possible, during the struggles of the 
 Reformation, to keep the middle course ; and in reject- 
 ing the corrupt and superstitious parts of its cere- 
 monial, to retain the better part of the Eoman Church. 
 Enthusiasm would have the recesses of each man's 
 breast to be the only sanctuary ; that, even while on 
 earth, and burdened with the weakness, and subject to 
 the influences, of an earth-born creature, he should 
 attain that state of purity and holiness, when, as in 
 the Apocalypse, there is " no temple." Philosophy 
 came to countenance the poverty and the meanness of 
 our places of public worship. Climate, it was inferred, 
 influenced the genius of a people, and, therefore, their 
 government, and mode of worship. The offices of re- 
 ligion in hot climates were said to require some sen- 
 sible object before the eyes, and hence the veneration 
 paid to statues and paintings ; whilst in the colder 
 climes we were to substitute internal contemplation 
 and the exercise of reason for passion.* 
 
 We trust, or hope, that in the breasts of those who 
 fill the family pew, in these northern churches, there 
 may be more genuine devotion; but to appearance all 
 is pale and cold : while to the subject we are now con- 
 
 * Some such thoughts must have come early into my mind, in 
 trj ing my pencil on the ruins of an ancient abbey ; and when, 
 afterwards within the kirk, 1 looked to the rafters, as of a barn 
 and saw the swallows flying about during divine service, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 15 
 
 sidering, at leas., no aid is afforded. What a contrast 
 is offered to the eye of the painter by the figures seen 
 in the churches cf the Eoman Catholic countries of the 
 south, as compared with those in our own ! There are 
 seen men in the remote aisles or chapels, cast down in 
 prayer, and abandoned to their feelings with that unre- 
 strained expression which belongs to the Italian from 
 his infancy : and even the beggars who creep about the 
 porches of the churches are like nothing we see nearer 
 home. In them we recognise the figures familiar to 
 us in the paintings of the great masters. In visiting 
 the church of the Annunziata in Genoa, I found a 
 beggar lying in my way, the precise figure of the lame 
 man in the cartoon of Eaphael. He lay extended at 
 full length upon the steps, crawling with the aid of a 
 short crutch, on which he rested with both his hands. 
 In Roman Catholic countries the church-door is open 
 and a heavy curtain excludes the light and heat ; and 
 there lie about those figures in rags, singularly pic- 
 turesque. 
 
 In short, the priests in their rich habiliments, stu- 
 diously arranged for effect, — the costume of the monks 
 of the order of St. Francis and the Capuchins, — the 
 men and women from the country, and the mendicants 
 prostrate in the churches, and in circumstances as to 
 light and shade, and colour, nowhere else to be ,^een, — 
 have been, and are, the studies of the Italian painters. 
 
 Again, in passing from the galleries of Eome to the 
 country and villages around, we cannot doubt where 
 Eaphael and Domenichino found their studies and pret- 
 tiest models. The holyday dress of the young women 
 m the villages is the same with that which we see in 
 iheir paintings; and as each village has something 
 iastinguishing and characteristic, and still picturesque 
 h. its costume, much is left for good taste A o select and 
 combine. 
 
16 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 When a man of genius, nurtured in his art at Kome, 
 where everything conspires to make him value his 
 occupations, returns home to comparative neglect, he is 
 not to be envied. He wants sympathy and associates. 
 David Allan, the Scottish Hogarth,* in a letter to 
 Gavin Hamilton, whom he had left in Eome, laments 
 the want of living models, and the defective sensibility 
 of his countrymen. He says, we rarely see in this 
 country a countenance like that of a Franciscan or an 
 Italian beggar, so full of character, so useful to the 
 study of history painting. But, he adds, we have 
 nature, and with the assistance of ancient models and 
 casts from the Greek statues, much may be accom- 
 plished. 
 
 * See his beautiful edition of the " Gentle Shepherd." While 
 a child, I remember him as a kind and somewhat facetious old 
 gentleman, but chiefly because he gave me drawings to copy and 
 called me " Brother Br uah." 
 
( 17 ) 
 
 ESSAY X. 
 
 OF THE PERMANENT FORM OF THE HEAD AND FACE, ltf 
 CONTRADISTINCTION TO EXPRESSION. 
 
 Much lias been written, and gracefully and agreeably 
 written, on the sources of Beauty ; yet 1 cannot help 
 thinking that, by losing sight of nature, and what may 
 be justly called the philosophy of the subject, the right 
 principle has not been attained. 
 
 Beauty of countenance may be denned in words, as 
 well as demonstrated in art. 
 
 A face may be beautiful in sleep, and a statue 
 without expression may be highly beautiful. On the 
 other hand, expression may give charm to a face the 
 most ordinary. Hence it appears that our inquiry 
 divides itself into— the permanent form of the head 
 and face ; and the motion of the features, or the 
 expression. 
 
 But it will be said, there is expression in the sleeping 
 figure, or in the statue. Is it not rather that we see in 
 these the capacity for expression ? that our minds are 
 active in imagining what may be the motions of these 
 features when awake or animated? Thus we speak of 
 an expressive face before we have seen a movement 
 grave or cheerful, or any indication in the features of 
 what prevails in the heart. Avoiding a mere distinc- 
 tion of words, let us consider first, Why a certain pro- 
 portion and form of face is beautiful, and conveys the 
 notion of capacity of expression ; and, secondly, the 
 movements or the actual expression of emotion. I 
 believe that it is the confusion between the capacity of 
 
 o 
 
18 
 
 FORM OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 
 
 expression, and the actual indication of thought, which 
 is the cause of the extraordinary difficulty in which 
 the subject is involved, and which has made it to "be 
 called a mystery : La beaute est un des plus grands 
 mysteres de la nature. 
 
 A countenance may be distinguished by being ex- 
 pressive of thought ; that is, it may indicate the pos- 
 session of the intellectual powers. It is manly, it is 
 human; and yet not a motion is seen to show what 
 feeling of sentiment prevails. On the other hand, there 
 may be a movement of the features, and the quality of 
 thought, — affection, love, joy, sorrow, gratitude, or sym- 
 pathy with suffering, — is immediately declared. A 
 countenance which, in ordinary conditions, has nothing 
 remarkable, may become beautiful in expression. It is 
 expression which raises affection, which dwells plea- 
 santly or painfully on the memory. When we look 
 forward to the meeting with those we love, it is the 
 illuminated face we hurry to meet ; and none who have 
 lost a friend but must acknowledge that it is the 
 evanescent expression, more than the permanent form, 
 which is painfully dear to them. 
 
 It is a prevailing opinion that beauty of countenance 
 consists in the capacity of expression, and in the 
 harmony of the features consenting to that expression.* 
 The author of the " Essays on the Nature and Prin- 
 ciples of Taste " denies any original or positive beauty 
 to the human countenance. 
 
 Those who have professedly written on the antique 
 
 * Great names may be quoted — Plato, Cicero, and St. Augustin, 
 down to our own professors. "Et ut corporis est qusedam apta 
 figura membrorum, cum coloris quadam suavitate, eaque dicitur 
 pulchritudo : Sic in animo opinionum judiciorumque sequabilitas, 
 et constantia, cum rlrmitate quadam et stabilitate pulchri- 
 tudo vocatur." — Cicero. Burton, in the Objects of Love, quotes 
 thus : — " Pulchritudo est perfectio compositi, ex congruente ordine, 
 mensura et ratione partium cousurgens." 
 
FORM OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 
 
 19 
 
 say, that, to arrive at the perfection of the ancienc 
 statue, the artist must avoid what is human, and aim at 
 the divine.* But we speak of what stands materially 
 before us, io be seen, touched, and measured. With 
 what divine essence is the comparison to be made ? 
 When the artist models his clay, he must have recourse 
 to some abstract idea of perfection in his own mind; 
 whence has he drawn his idea of perfection? This 
 brings us to the right path in the inquiry : the idea 
 of representing divinity is palpably absurd ; we know 
 nothing of form but from the contemplation of man. 
 
 The only interpretation of divinity in the human 
 figure, as represented by the ancient sculptors, is, that 
 the artists avoided individuality ; that they studied to 
 keep free of resemblance to any individual ; giving no 
 indication of the spirit, or of the sentiments or affec- 
 tions ; conceiving that all these movements destroy the 
 unity of the features, and are foreign to beauty in the 
 abstract. 
 
 In proceeding to define beauty, all that the writers 
 on art have been able to affirm is, that it is the reverse 
 of deformity. Albert Diirer so expresses himself. If 
 we intend the representation of beauty, then let us 
 mark deformity, and teach ourselves to avoid it. The 
 more remote from deformity, the nearer the approach 
 to beauty. So Mengs : " La bellezza e V opposite* della 
 bruttezza" Leonardo da Yinci attributed much to com- 
 parison. He searched for ugliness. If he saw an 
 uncommon face,— if it were a caricature of expression, 
 ■ — he would follow it, and contrive to look at the indi- 
 
 * u Se la figura era humana, vi facevano tutto quelle, che appar- 
 tiene alia proj rieta, e qualita deli' uomo. Se poi era divina, esse 
 tralasciavano la qualita uraane e sceglievano unicamente le divine." 
 — Mengs. Again, Winckt lmann, ''La beaute supreme' reside en 
 Dieu. L'ide'e de la beaute' humaine se perfectionne a raison de 
 ga conformity et de son liarmonie avec L'Etre Supreme/' &c. — ■ 
 Winckelmann Histoire de VArt. 
 
 C 2 
 
F011M OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 
 
 vidual in all aspects. He would pursue a curiosity oi 
 this kind for a whole day, until he was able to go home 
 and draw it.* We have here the practical result of the 
 theory, which is, to study the deformities, in order to 
 learn to avoid them ; and certainly the effect was admir- 
 able, since we know, as his biographer has written, that 
 his painting of beauty raised love in all beholders.f 
 
 If a painter entertains the idea that there is some 
 undefined beauty, distinct from nature, which is in his 
 own mind, his works will want that variety which is 
 in nature, and we shall see in his paintings the same 
 countenance continually reproduced. We are informed 
 that Kaphael, in painting the head of Galatea, found 
 no beauty deserving to be his model ; he is reported to 
 have said, that there is nothing so rare as perfect 
 beauty in woman ; and that he substituted for nature 
 a certain idea inspired by his own fancy. This is a 
 
 * "Piglid tanto gusto nel dipingere cose bizzarre et altera te, 
 che s' egli s' imbatteva in qualchn villano che con viso strano et 
 alquanto fuor del ordinario, dasse un poco nel ridiculo invaghito 
 dalla bizzarria dell' obbietto, l'haveiebbe sequitato un giorno in- 
 tie/o, fin a tanto c' avendune una perfetta idon, ritornuto a casa 
 lo disegnava come se 1' havesse havuto presente." — Vasari. 
 
 f This great painter a.-eribed much importance to contrast 
 in painting, bringing extremes together,— cW il brutto sia vicina 
 al bello, et il vecchio al giovane, et il debole al forte; and such 
 appears, on many occasions, to have been the principle which 
 directed the old masters. " The statue of Venus may stand alone ; 
 but not so the painting of the goddess by Titian, — there are two 
 hideous old women introduced for contrast. — The Florentine 
 Gallery. We may take a further illustration from the finest 
 picture in Italy — the Archangel Michael subduing Satan, which 
 is in the convent of the Capuchins in Rome. The beauty of the 
 angel is perfect; the face is undisturbed by passion. It conveys to 
 us with how little effort the superior nature subdues the monster 
 who lies howling, and on which he puts his feet. The expansion 
 of the wings is grand ; and the manner in which the drapery 
 encircles hnn indicates the motion of descent, — that he has alighted ! 
 We have all the contrast between a face convulsed by bad 
 passion, and the serenity and beauty of virtue." — Notes from 
 Journal 
 
PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 21 
 
 mistake : painters have nothing in their heads hut 
 what has been put there. There is no power in us 
 *' to disengage ourselves from material things, and to 
 rise into a sphere of intellectual ideas," and least of all 
 in what regards man. In the Farnesina, there are 
 frescoes by Raphael and his scholars, demonstrating 
 to me the nature of those studies which at length 
 enabled him to compose, not to copy, the beautiful 
 Galatea; that he first drew from what he saw, and finally 
 avoided imperfections, and combined excellencies.* 
 
 We shall arrive at a better understanding of this sub- 
 ject, by inquiring into the peculiar form and beauty of 
 the antique. 
 
 OF THE PERMANENT FORM OF THE HEAL), A.ND THE 
 PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 
 
 Pleased as all are with the variety in the human 
 countenance, and desirous of discovering why, in the 
 antique statue, that is beautiful which is not found in 
 nature, we seek for some means of more accurate survey, 
 some rule by which we may measure proportions. 
 
 The scientific principle is deducible from this, — that 
 the outward forms result from the degree of develop- 
 ment of the contained organs. The most obvious plan, 
 and that which has been most generally adopted, of 
 examining the proportions, is by a comparison of the 
 size of the head with that of the face ; understanding 
 by the head, the brain-case, as containing the organ of 
 
 * " Palazzo Farnesina. Saw the Frescoes of Kaphael. Som6 
 finished by his scholars from his outline — only one finished by 
 himself. What I most admire is the beauty and variety of Ms 
 female heads, especially the different manner in which he has 
 bound up the hair and let it flow about the neck and shoulders ; 
 and yet he may have found all this, St lecdng from what may h« 
 seen in the streets. Here is the Galatea !" — Note from Journal, 
 
22 PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 
 
 intellect; and by the face, the seat of the collected 
 organs of the senses. 
 
 But we are not prompted, naturally, to institute this 
 comparison, or estimate the dimensions of the whole 
 head. Both nature and custom teach us, every moment, 
 to scan the features ; and to look there for what is to 
 animate, to charm, or to grieve us. Every scheme by 
 which it shall be proposed to elicit the reasons of our 
 feelings of admiration, love, or disgust, by measuring 
 the comparative areas of the head and face, will fail. 
 
 Nor will that comparison enable us to mark the 
 gradations in the heads of animals ; because the pecu- 
 liarities in the skulls of brutes either result " from, 
 or are connected with, the development of particular 
 organs. Those organs have relation to the existence of 
 the animal, to its means of procuring nourishment, the 
 pursuit of its prey, or the mode of avoiding its enemies ; 
 and the difference in the relative size of their instru- 
 ments of prehension, or in that of their ears, eyes, or 
 organs of smelling, will entirely disturb the line of 
 demarcate n between the brain-case and the face. The 
 vast mass of the brain in man, must have an effect on 
 the conformation of the whole head ; it causes the 
 upper part of the face to be thrown forwards ; thus at 
 once distinguishing him from the brute, and marking 
 superiority of intellect. But when we consider the 
 condition of the lower animals, we must take into our 
 calculation, not intellectual properties, but the instincts 
 of brutes ; and the measurement of the face, as com- 
 pared with the size of the brain, fails us altogether. 
 
 I must speak with respect of this suggestion of 
 measuring the face against the head, since it has been 
 entertained by John Hunter, Camper, Blumenbach, and 
 Cuvier. I shall, however, direct what I have to say 
 On the subject principally to the works of Camper. 
 
 If we arc to study the form of the human head, seen 
 
PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 23 
 
 in profile, we must obiain a line, which shall be per- 
 manent, on which we can raise a perpendicular, and so 
 
 commence a more accurate survey than by the unassisted 
 eye. 
 
 If we present a skull in profile, or draw it thus with 
 
 the pen, we may begin by tracing a horizontal line, 
 which shall pass through the foramen of the ear and 
 
24 PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 
 
 the alveoli or sockets of the front or incisor teeth of 
 the upper jaw. On this we can raise an oblique line, 
 touching the sockets of the teeth and the most promi- 
 nent point of the forehead, or of the frontal bone. This 
 is the facial line of Camper; and by its obliquity it 
 will be, to a certain degree, the measure of the relative 
 proportion of the areas or spaces occupied by the brain 
 and the face. Another line may be drawn, which will 
 
 divide the brain-case from the face; commencing at 
 the foramen of the ear, it will touch the upper margin 
 of the orbit. 
 
 On looking to these illustrations of Albert Diirer, it 
 is apparent that he entertained and practised this mode 
 of distinguishing the forms of the head. 
 
 But the idea of the facial line was suggested to 
 Camper on examining certain antique gems. He ob- 
 
PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 25 
 
 served that, in imitating these, the artists failed, from 
 neglecting to throw forward the head, so as to make 
 the line which touched the forehead and teeth nearly 
 perpendicular. For by this line he thought that he 
 had got the key to the whole difficulty, as marking 
 the distinctions in the natural head, compared with the 
 antique. He conceived that when he drew a profile 1 so 
 
 that the forehead and lips touched the perpendicular 
 line, he obtained the characters of an antique head. If, 
 on the other hand, he let this line fall back, and accom- 
 modated the outline of the head to it, he diminished 
 the beauty and perfection of the form. For example, 
 if the line formed an angle of seventy, it became the 
 head of a Negro ; if declining backwards still farther, 
 by the depression of the brain-case, say to sixty, it 
 
26 PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 
 
 declared the face of an ourang-outang ; and so, down to 
 the dog. 
 
 To a certain extent, this ingenious mode will be 
 found useful. Had the Count Caylus been guided by 
 it in his great work on Antiquities, his figures, in 
 many instances, would have been better drawn. But 
 
 even in respect to the state of the human brain, this 
 line does not fully answer the purpose. In the skulls 
 of certain nations the depression of the forehead is so 
 great, that the line drawn from the alveolar processes 
 to the frontal sinus, does not even touch the frontal 
 bone. 
 
 Camper's position is this, — that as, by the diminution 
 of the cranium and the further inclination of the facial 
 
PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 27 
 
 line, the head is depressed in character to that of a 
 Negro ; so, by raising and throwing the skull upwards 
 and forwards, until the facial line reaches the perpen- 
 dicular, as on page 24, the great object is attained of 
 lesemblance to the antique head. 
 
 But his own figures contradict his conclusion ; for, 
 although he has thrown the head forward in them, 
 even beyond the perpendicular of the facial line, yet, 
 as he has preserved the features of common nature, we 
 refuse to acknowledge their similarity to the beautiful 
 forms of the antique marbles. It is true, that, by ad- 
 vancing the forehead, it is raised ; the face is shortened, 
 and the eye brought to the centre of the head. But 
 with all this, there is much wanting, — that which 
 measurement or a mere line will not shew us. 
 
 The truth is, that we are more moved by the features 
 than by the form of the whole head. Unless there be 
 a conformity in every feature to the general shape of 
 the head, throwing the forehead forward on the face 
 produces deformity ; * and the question returns with 
 full force : — How is it that we are led to concede that 
 the antique head of the Apollo or of the Jupiter is 
 beautiful, when the facial line makes a hundred degrees 
 with the horizontal line ? In other words, How do we 
 admit that to be beautiful which in not natural? 
 Simply for the same reason that if we discover a broken 
 portion of an antique, a nose, or a chin, of marble, we 
 can say, without deliberation, this must have belonged 
 to a work of antiquity which proves that the character 
 
 * On the following page T have sketched the profile of a poor 
 begging Negro in contrast with the head of M. Agrippa, in which 
 the artist has dignified the character on the principle stated by- 
 Camper ; but, it is here apparent that the manly dignity results 
 from the character of each feature, even more than from the facial 
 line. It is seen in the eye, in the nose, mouth, and chin ; each of 
 which are in as much contrast with those of the Negro, as is tha 
 shape of the whole head. 
 
28 PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 
 
 is distinguishable in every part, — in each feature, as 
 well as in the whole head. 
 
 We must assume a new principle, and it is this — that 
 in the face there is a character of nobleness observ- 
 able, depending on the development of certain organs 
 which indicate the prevalence of the higher qualities 
 allied to thought, and therefore human. A great 
 mistake has prevailed in supposing that the expansion 
 of some organs in the face of man, marks a participation 
 
 in the character of the brute : that the fully developed 
 nose indicates the grovelling propensities, and the ex- 
 tended mouth, the ferocity of the lower animals. Let 
 us correct this misconception by considering the pro- 
 perties or uses of the mouth. It is for feeding cer- 
 tainly, but it is also for speech. Extend the jaws, 
 project the teeth, widen the mouth, and a carnivorous 
 propensity is declared ; but concentrate the mouth, give 
 to the chin fulness and roundness, and due form to the 
 
PRoroiri ions of the head and face. 29 
 
 lips ; shew through them the quality of eloquence, of 
 intelligence, and of human sentiments, --and the noble- 
 ness is enhanced, which was only in part indicated, by 
 the projection of the forehead. Now, look to the 
 antique head and say, is the mou Ji for masticating, 
 or for speech, and expression of sentiment? So of the 
 nose. Here, even Cuvier mistook the principle. The 
 nose on a man's face has nothing in common with the 
 snout of a beast. The prominence of the nose, and of 
 the lower part of the forehead, and the development 
 of the cavities in the centre of the face, are all con- 
 cerned in the voice. This is ascertained by the man- 
 liness of voice coming with the full development of 
 these parts.* Nothing sensual is indicated by the form 
 of the human nose ; although, by depressing it and 
 joining it to the lip, — the condition of the brute, — as 
 in the satyr, the idea of something sensual is conveyed. 
 
 A comparison of the eye and the ear brings out the 
 principle more distinctly. Enlarge the orbit, magnify 
 the eyes ; let them be full, clear, piercing, full of tire, 
 still they combine with the animated human counte- 
 nance ; they imply a capacity consistent with human 
 thought, a vivacity and intelligence partaking of mind. 
 But large pendulous ears, or projecting and sharp ears, 
 belong to the satyr ; for man is not to be perpetually 
 watchful, or to be startled and alarmed by ever}' noise. 
 
 If we consider for a moment what is the great mark 
 of distinction between man and brutes, we shall perceive 
 that it is speech ; for it corresponds to his exalted 
 intellectual and moral endowments. Speech implies 
 certain inward propensities, a conformity of internal 
 organs, and a peculiarity of nervous distribution ; but 
 it also implies a particular outward character or phy- 
 siognomy, a peculiar form of the nostrils, jaws, mouth, 
 
 * These cavities do not exist in the chiM, and only attain theil 
 full size in tie adult 
 
30 FORM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKULL, 
 
 and lips. These latter are the visible signs of this 
 high endowment. 
 
 Then again, as to sentiment, — laughter and weeping, 
 and sympathy with those in pleasure or in pain, charac- 
 terise human beings, and are indicated by the same 
 organs. Hence, the capacity of expression in the 
 nostril and mouth are peculiar attributes of the human 
 countenance. 
 
 SOME FURTHER OBSERVATIONS ON THE FORM AND PROPORTIONS 
 OF THE SKULL, AND BONES OF THE FACE. 
 
 Let us return with more just principles to the study 
 of the lines marking the regions of the face and head. 
 
 A line drawn from the tube of the ear to the eyebrow, 
 or prominence of the frontal bone, and one from the 
 s-i me point to the chin, include the face in a triangle. 
 If another line be drawn to the lowest point of the 
 
AND BONES OF THE FACE. 
 
 31 
 
 nose, we divide the face into two regions ; the lower 
 occupied by the masticating apparatus of teeth, jaws, 
 and their muscles. If this alone be enlarged, the effect 
 is an encroachment on the nose and orbit, and the face 
 loses all dignity and form. The eye is especially 
 diminutive, and the nose misshapen. 
 
 It will be found that the jaws correspond with the 
 general skeleton ; very tall men, especially if gigantic, 
 
 Aave large jaws, and comparatively small heads. In 
 rickety deformity of the bones, the character of the face 
 is exhibited, as in this sketch, by a defect in the size 
 of the jaw-bones, which have yielded to the action 
 of their muscles. The qualities of mind, evinced in 
 expression, may redeem any degree of deformity ; but 
 the peculiarity of the countenance here, is that of 
 rickets; the prominence of the forehead arises merely 
 
32 FORM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKULL, 
 
 from the accumulation of Lone, and not from a superior 
 development of the brain. We have a further oppor- 
 tunity of observing that the projection of the facial 
 line, unaccompanied with due conformity of features, 
 only adds to the deformity.* 
 
 Blumenbach, dissatisfied with the facial line of 
 Camper, contrived a different mode of distinguishing 
 the capacities of the head and face. He selected two 
 bones of the skull ; the frontal bone as representing 
 the development of the cranium or brain-case ; and 
 the superior maxillary bone, as the seat of the organs 
 of sense, which are considered as opposite to the 
 intellectual properties. He placed the vertex of the 
 skull towards him, so as to look over the brow or 
 forehead ; and then he noted how much the bones of 
 the cheek, the nose, and the upper jaw projected beyond 
 the level of the frontal bone. This method he used 
 as better suited to mark the peculiarities of the national 
 
 * " In visiting the Villa Albani, among the indescribable 
 beanties which are everywhere around us, the party was amused 
 with my attention being fixed upon the statue of a deformed person. 
 I was indeed struck with the truth of the representation: the 
 manner in which the ribs are distorted, the head sunk upon the 
 breast, and the exaggeration of certain muscles, consequent upon 
 displacement of the bones. I was thinking of the accurate con- 
 ception which the ancients had of human anatomy, and the precision 
 w th whioh they copied from nature. 
 
 " This is said to be a statue of Esop, and on referring to Visconti, 
 where he treats of the fabulist, I see that his engraving of the 
 statue, beautiful as it is, is deficient in what appealed to me a 
 due correspondence in the countenance, and the distortion of 
 the body. On comparing it with a sketch I had made, I find 
 that I have marked more distinctly the position of the head, the 
 projection of the chin, and the fulness of the forehead charac- 
 teristic of that defect in the face which arises from the jaw 
 yielding to the action of the muscles during the age when the 
 bones are soft. 
 
 " Visconti discovers in the face a spirituality quite in contrast 
 with that expression which the ancients give to buffoons, and 
 dwarfs, whose physiognomy they always made ridiculous.'' — Note 
 from Jour ml 
 
AND BONES OF THE FACE. 
 
 33 
 
 head ; and to be employed in the skull rather than in 
 the living head. It may be useful, but it is manifestly 
 imperfect. The breadth of the face may be noted in 
 this manner ; but it will better serve the purpose of 
 the artist to draw the face in front, and to apply the 
 principle already explained, in the profile. 
 
 It was observed in the preceding pages, that the dif 
 ferent plans of measuring the head might assist in 
 pointing out the varieties in the form of the head ; but 
 that none of them proceeded on a just principle for dis- 
 tinguishing what is acknowledged by all to be beauti- 
 ful in the antique. A circumstance to which Professor 
 Gibson, of Philadelphia, then my pupil, first drew my 
 attention, convinced me that the methods which physi- 
 ologists had practised were very incorrect. He placed 
 before me the skull of an European and of a Negro ; 
 and resting them both on the condyles of the occipital 
 bone, as the head is supported on the spine, it appeared 
 that the European fell forward, and the African back- 
 ward. This seemed remarkable, when both physiolo- 
 gists and physiognomists were describing the greater 
 comparative size of the face, as the grand peculiarity 
 of the African head. I was desirous of investigating this 
 matter further. 
 
 The difficulty of finding a line by which to measure 
 the inclination of the face would be removed, if we were 
 to take the head as fairly balanced on the articulating 
 surfaces of the atlas, or first bone of the spine ; but in the 
 living body, it will not be easy to fix the head in the 
 equipoise. Something may be attained by comparing 
 the general position of the head, in the European and 
 the Negro ; but nothing approaching to the accuracy 
 which observation pretending to science, requires. 
 
 To find a line which should not vary, but enable us 
 to measure with correctness the angles both of the facial 
 line, and of the line intermediate between the cranium 
 
34 FORM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKULL, 
 
 and the face, I poised the skull upon a perpend icula? 
 rod, by passing the point through the foramen magnum 
 into the interior of the skull, so that the upper part 
 of the cranium rested on the point. By shifting the 
 skull till the rod was exactly betwixt the condyles 
 of the occipital bone, and in the centre of the foramen 
 magnum, I procured the line which was wanted. 
 
 I now divided into degrees, or equal parts, the great 
 convexity of the cranium, from the setting on of the 
 nose on the fore part, to the margin of the foramen 
 magnum behind ; and having so prepared several skulls 
 for adjustment on the rod, I began to make my obser- 
 vations. 
 
 In comparing the European skull with that of the 
 Negro, the point of the rod in the latter touched the 
 inside of the cranium several degrees nearer to the bones 
 of the fac&, or more forward on the cranium, than the 
 former. 
 
 On measuring the angle of the facial line of Camper 
 with this perpendicular line, in a European skull the 
 most perfect in form of any I possessed, I found the 
 difference to be ten degrees. 
 
 The cause of the difference being much greater be- 
 tween the European and African skull, in this way of 
 measuring, than by Camper's plan is, that here the 
 facial line has reference to the whole form and propor- 
 tion of the head ; whereas in Camper's measurement it 
 marks only the inclination of the face. 
 
 We have now an explanation of the peculiarity in 
 the position of the Negro's head, the upward inclina- 
 lion of the face, and the falling back of the occiput. 
 A^id here too we have it proved, that it is an error to 
 suppose the Negro head to be remarkable in character 
 on account of any increase in the proportion of the 
 bo^es of the face, to the cranium ; for the area of the 
 bones of the face is in this way shewn to bear a less 
 
AND BONES OF THE FACE. 
 
 35 
 
 proportion to that of the bones of the cranium, in the 
 Negro than in the European head. 
 
 My next object of inquiry was to find on what the 
 distinctive character of the Negro face really depends. 
 For to the eye a Negro face appears larger, while in 
 fact it is proved to be smaller than the European, con- 
 sidered in relation to the cranium. I took otf the lower 
 
 jaw-bones from both the European and the Negro skull ; 
 and then, in order to poise the skulls on the perpen- 
 dicular rod, it was required to move both forward on 
 the point of the rod. But it was found necessary to 
 shift the Negro skull considerably farther forward than 
 the European : the point of the rod thus removed back- 
 
 D 2 
 
36 FORM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKULL, 
 
 ward on the scale, indicated that the lower jaw of the 
 Negro bore a greater proportion to the skull than that 
 of the European. The facial line was of course thrown 
 farther backwards in both skulls on taking away the 
 jaw ; but the jaw of the Negro being larger than that 
 of the European, the inclination backward was greater 
 in the Negro skull. Proceeding to take away the upper 
 jaws, and then the whole bones of the face, the index 
 on the surface of the cranium shewed that the jaw- 
 bones of the Negro bore a much greater proportion to 
 the head and the other bones of the face, than those 
 of the European skull ; and that the apparent magni- 
 tude of the bones of the Negro face resulted from the 
 size and form of the jaw-bones alone, while the upper 
 bones of the face, and indeed all that had not relation 
 to the teeth and mastication, were less than those of 
 the European skull. 
 
 In proceeding with these experiments, I changed the 
 manner of noting the variations in the inclination ot 
 the oranium ; because I perceived that an index, marked 
 on the convexity of the skull, varied according to the 
 form of the head. Preserving the principle, I measured 
 the inclination of the cranium by an angle formed by 
 the perpendicular line (a b) and a line (a c) inter- 
 mediate between the cranium and the face. On poising 
 the cranium on the rod, after taking away all the bones 
 of the face, it appeared that the Negro cranium had 
 the line elevated nearly ten degrees more than the 
 European. I also found, on comparing the cranium 
 of a child with that of an adult, that it was deficient 
 in the relative proportions of weight and capacity on 
 the fore part — that the line was depressed by the size 
 of the forehead increasing in proportion to the advance 
 in maturity. 
 
 On looking attentively to these skulls, it was evi- 
 dent that there were distinctions to be observed in the 
 
AND BONES OF THE FACE. 37 
 
 form of the cranium itself, independently of the propor- 
 tions between the face and cranium ; that these varieties 
 depended on the form of the brain, and proceeded (1 
 think we may conclude) from the more or less complete 
 development of the organ of the mind. In the infant 
 there is a deficiency of weight, and a less ample area 
 in the higher and anterior part of the brain-case. I say 
 less ample, only in comparison with that which we may 
 estimate as the standard, viz., the adult European. In 
 the Negro, besides the greater weakness and lightness 
 in the bones of the whole skull, there is a remarkable 
 deficiency of length in the head forward, producing 
 a narrow and depressed forehead ; whereas a large 
 capacious forehead is allowed to be the least equivocal 
 mark of perfection in the head. 
 
 Having been brought by this more accurate method 
 of measuring the skull, to observe distinctions not only 
 in the cranium and bones of the face, but in the face 
 itself, and in the cranium independently of the face, I 
 wished, in the next place, to consider more at large the 
 varieties in the form of the face, and the cause of the 
 secret influence of certain forms on our judgment of 
 beauty. 
 
 From the examination of the heads, both of men and 
 brutes, and of the skulls of a variety of animals, I think 
 there is reason to conclude, that the external character 
 consists more in the relative proportions of the parts 
 of the face to each other, than has been admitted. 
 On first consideration we are apt to say, that in the 
 beautiful form of the human countenance the likeness 
 of the brute is inadmissible ; that wherever we see a 
 resemblance to the brute in ifae form of the whole 
 countenance, or in the particular features, it implies 
 degradation. But this is true to a limited extent 
 only : and how far it extends, the examination of the 
 uses of the parts will inform us. 
 
38 FORM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKULL, 
 
 We have therefore again to inquire, which are the 
 l.obler features of the face, and which belong to the 
 inferior functions. 
 
 In examining the mouth and jaws of animals, we 
 shall be convinced that the form of the bones is adapted 
 to the necessities of the creature, independently al- 
 together of the sense of taste ; that in man, whose jaw- 
 bones are smaller than those of other animals, this sense 
 is most perfect, most exquisite in degree, and suited to 
 the greatest variety in its exercise. Turning to the 
 skulls of the horse and the lion, we shall see that the 
 one is fitted for powerful mastication, and the other for 
 tearing and lacerating, not for cutting or grinding ; and 
 if we examine the form of the teeth more narrowly, 
 we shall perceive that there must necessarily be a form 
 of the jaw corresponding to these actions. In the lion, 
 the tiger, and all carnivorous animals, much of the cha- 
 racter of the face lies in the depth of the jaw forward ; 
 because this depth is necessary for the socketing of the 
 long canine teeth. When, on the contrary, the jaw 
 is deep and strong towards the back part, it is for the 
 firm socketing of the grinding teeth, and is character- 
 istic of the form of the head of the horse, and of all 
 graminivorous animals. There is also a peculiar form 
 of the head and distinct expression, in the rodentia, 
 and such animals as have to pierce shells for their food, 
 as the monkeys, which is produced by their cutting 
 teeth being placed at right angles in their jaws, for 
 the action of gnawing. 
 
 Now it is certainly by that unconscious operation of 
 the fancy, that associating power which has a constant 
 influence on our opinions, that a human face with pro- 
 tuberant jaws seems degraded to the brutal character ; 
 that the projection of the incisor teeth especially gives a 
 remarkable expression of me mness ; while the enlarge- 
 ment of the canine teeth, as we see in the demons of 
 
AND BONES OF THE FACE. 
 
 39 
 
 the Last Judgment of Michael Angelo, produces an air 
 of savageness and ferocity.* 
 
 When we consider further the muscles appropriated 
 to the motions of the jaws, we may comprehend why 
 it should be thought a deformity when the zygoma (the 
 arch of bone on the temple) is remarkably prominent. 
 It is enlarged to permit the massy temporal muscle by 
 which the jaw is closed to act freely, and its form cor- 
 responds with the size of the jaw, and with the canine 
 teeth. This will be very evident if we place the human 
 skull beside the skull of the horse, the lion, the bull, 
 the tiger, the sheep, the dog, &c. 
 
 It has already been said that a comparison of the area 
 of the bones of the head and face in different animals 
 will not inform us of the relative perfection of the brain 
 in its exercise. But still we may recognize, in the form 
 of the jaws and bill, the beast or bird of rapine ; in 
 the breadth and extent of the central cavities of the 
 face, the seat of the organ of smelling, tribes which hunt 
 their prey ; in the prominent eye placed more laterally, 
 timid animals which are the objects of the chase ; and 
 in the large socket and great eyeball, the character of 
 such as prowl by night. With these variations in the 
 perfection of the outward senses, there are, no doubt, 
 corresponding changes in the brain, and therefore, in 
 the instincts and habits of animals. 
 
 In obtaining a line which shews with precision the 
 bearings of all the parts of the head, I think that I 
 have reduced this subject to greater simplicity ; and 
 have been able to make observations more correctly 
 than by the methods hitherto in use : — I have shewn 
 that the relative capacity of the cranium or brain-case 
 to that of the face, as containing the organs of the senses, 
 is insufficient to mark the scale of intellect, or to explain 
 the distinctions of character in the human head : — That 
 * Faery Queen, Book IV. cant. vii. 5. 
 
40 FORM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKULL, 
 
 the perfection of the human head greatly consists in 
 the increase of the cranium forward ; in the full and 
 capacious forehead ; and that the cranium of the Negro, 
 when compared with the perfect cranium of an European, 
 has less capacity at the fore-part.* It has been shewn 
 that in the Negro the whole of the face is actually 
 smaller instead of being greater, when compared with 
 the brain-case, than that of the European; but that 
 the jaws, contrasted with the other parts of the face, 
 are larger. The conclusion to which these views lead 
 is, that some principle must be sought for, not yet ac- 
 knowledged, which shall apply not only to the form of 
 the whole head, but also to the individual parts. This 
 principle, I imagine, is to be found in the form of the 
 face as bearing relation to its various functions; not 
 those of the senses merely, but of the parts contained 
 in or attached to the face — the organs of Mastication, 
 the organs of Speech, and the organs of Expression. 
 
 And here it is to be observed, that it is not necessarily 
 a deformity that a feature resembles that of a lower 
 animal. In our secret thoughts the form has a reference 
 to the function. If the function be allied to intellect, 
 or is connected with mind (as the eye especially is), 
 then there is no incompatibility with the human coun- 
 tenance, though the organ should bear a resemblance 
 to the same part in a brute ; but, if it has a relation 
 to the meaner necessities of animal life, as the jaws, 
 or the teeth, the effect is incompatible, and altogether 
 at variance with human physiognomy. 
 
 If we take the antique as the model of beauty in the 
 
 human head, we shall confess that a prominent cheek- 
 
 * In comparing the skulls of men with those of brutes, e.g. the 
 chimpanzee, it cannot be just to measure the proportions of the 
 cranium behind the foramen of the occipital bone ; for that foramen 
 must correspond with the spine on which the head rests ; and the 
 position of the animal, monkey, or quadruped, must determine the 
 connexion of the spine and skull. 
 
AND BONES OF THE FACE. 
 
 41 
 
 bone, or a jaw-bone large and square behind, is a defect ; 
 that the great depth of face, produced by the length of 
 the teeth, is also a deformity ; that the projecting jaws 
 are still worse ; and, above all, that the monkey-like 
 protrusion of the fore-teeth takes away from the dignity 
 of human expression. 
 
 When the principles that sway our secret thoughts 
 are discovered, and when by a comparison of the parts 
 of the head anatomically, a secure foundation is laid for 
 the accurate observation of nature, the lines of Camper 
 and Blumenbach will aid us in the examination of cha- 
 racter ; but these methods of measurement are, of them- 
 selves, imperfect, and, being founded on a mistaken 
 principle, they lead to unsatisfactory conclusions. 
 
( 42 ) 
 
 ESSAY II. 
 
 CHANGES FROM INFANCY TO AGE. OF THE SKULL, AS PRO- 
 TECTING THE BRAIN. OF THE CHARACTERS OF BRUTES. 
 NATIONAL PECULIARITIES. 
 
 The bones, and the parts which cover them, or are con- 
 tained within them, grow, as it were, by one impulse, so' 
 that they correspond together ; the fleshy lips of the 
 Negro are suited to his large protuberant teeth. Among 
 ourselves, a square jaw-bone is attended by a thickness 
 and heaviness of the cheeks and lips ; and if the canine 
 teeth, the strong corner teeth, be unusally long and 
 prominent, there is not only a coarseness and heaviness 
 of a different kind, but a certain irascibility of expres- 
 sion. In women and young persons with large incisor 
 teeth there is a pretty fulness and ripeness of the lips. 
 
 The whole character of the face of a child results 
 from the fleshy parts and integuments being calculated, 
 if I may use such a term, for the support of larger 
 bones than they possess in early years. The features 
 are provided for the growth and development of the 
 bones of the face, and hence the fulness, roundness, and 
 chubbiness of infancy. 
 
 There are some other peculiarities in infancy. For 
 example : the head is of an elongated and oval form, its 
 greatest length being in the direction from the forehead 
 to the occiput ; the forehead is full, but flat at the eye- 
 brows, and the whole part which contains the brain is 
 relatively large ; the jaw-bones, and the other bones of 
 the face, are diminutive ; the neck is small compared 
 
CHANGES FROM INFANCY TO AGE. 
 
 43 
 
 with the size of the head, owing to the peculiar pro- 
 jection of the back of the head (or occiput). 
 
 Compare the outline of the infant's head with that 
 of the boy, and the effect of the expansion of the bones 
 of the face in bestowing the characteristic form of youth, 
 will be apparent. The face in the youth is lengthened, 
 and is less round than that of the infant. The brow, 
 however, is not enlarged in proportion to the increase 
 
 of the lower part of the face ; though the form is so 
 far changed that a prominent ridge is now developed 
 along the course of the eyebrows. 
 
 This ridge (the supra-obitary) is caused by a cavity, 
 which is formed in this part of the head by the layers 
 of the frontal bone (or os frontis). It is the enlargement 
 of this cavity (called the frontal sinus) that makes the 
 prominence over the eyes which is peculiar to manhood. 
 
 From infancy to adolescence, there is a great in- 
 crease in the size of the upper jaw-bone (the superior 
 maxillary bone). This is chiefly owing to its con- 
 tuning within it another cavity (the maxillary sinus) ; 
 
44 CHANGES FROM INFANCY TO AGE. 
 
 which, like the frontal sinus, becomes greatly developed 
 with advancing years. And there are several new 
 characters given to the countenance by the enlargement 
 of the upper jaw-bone which may be regarded as the 
 
 centre of the bones of the face. It has the effect of 
 raising and lengthening the bones of the nose, and of 
 making the cheek-bones (or ossa malae) project farther.* 
 The growth of the large teeth in the adult, contrasted 
 
 * The cavities in the frontal and maxillary bones communicate 
 with the nose, and assist in giv ; ug the sonorous, manly tones to the 
 voice. They are very small in women, as they are in children. 
 
CHANGES FROM INFANCY TO AGE. 
 
 4b 
 
 with the child, adds to the depth, as well as length, of 
 both the upper and lower jaw-bones, and the whole face 
 becomes consequently longer. Another necessary effect 
 is, that the angle of the lower jaw recedes more towards 
 the ear, and acquires more distinctness. Thus it is, that 
 by the growth of the teeth and of those processes of the 
 bones which support and fix them (the alveolar pro- 
 cesses), and by the lengthening and receding of the 
 angle of the jaw, a manly squareness of the chin and 
 lower part of the face takes the place of the fulness 
 and roundness of childhood. 
 
 This view of the skull at different periods of life 
 suggests another observation, relating to the characters 
 of age. "When the teeth fall out in old age, the sockets 
 which grow up along with them waste away. Accord- 
 ingly, while the depth of the lower jaw-bone, from the 
 hinge to the angle, is undiminished, and its length to- 
 wards the chin is the same, there remains nothing at 
 the part where the teeth were implanted but the narrow 
 base of the jaw. The effect on the countenance is per- 
 ceived in the opposite sketch. The jaws are allowed to 
 approach nearer to each other at the fore-part ; the 
 angle of the lower jaw comes of course more forward, 
 and resembles that of the child, were it not that the 
 chin projects : the chin and the nose approximate, the 
 lips fall in, the mouth is too small for the tongue, and 
 the speech is inarticulate. 
 
 Before leaving this subject, we may point out a defect 
 in the sculptures of Fiammingo, who has been justly 
 celebrated for his designs of boys. In his heads of 
 children, it is obvious that he intended to present us 
 with an ideal form, instead of a strict copy from nature. 
 But it will be remarked, that the eyes are too deeply 
 set in his figures. He has made the prominences over 
 the orbits (the supra-orbitary ridges), which are peculiar 
 tc a more advanced age, distinct features in the child, 
 
46 OF THE SKULL, AS PROTECTING THE BRAIN. 
 
 and has thus produced an unnatural appearance. The 
 only character of the boy which he has kept true to 
 nature is the largeness of the head compared with the 
 face, the fulness of the cheeks, and the falling in of the 
 mouth and chin. In exaggerating the natural pecu- 
 liarities, the artist has strictly imitated the antique. 
 But it may remain a question, how far the principle 
 which is so happy in its effect of heightening the beauty 
 of the adult countenance, is necessary or allowable in 
 designing the forms of childhood ? 
 
 OF THE SKULL, AS PROTECTING THE BRAIN. 
 
 In touching even slightly on this subject, we must 
 attend to certain principles. It is to be understood, 
 that a shock or vibration passing through the brain 
 proves more destructive than a wound penetrating its 
 substance. A skull stronger, thicker, and more solid 
 than that which we possess would not have given 
 greater security : it would have vibrated to a greater 
 degree, and the concussion arising even from trifling 
 blows on the head, would have effectually benumbed 
 the faculties. 
 
 A child bears knocks which would be fatal in old 
 age. This is owing to the skull being thin, uniform in 
 texture, and elastic, in childhood ; and to the brain 
 being of a corresponding stiucture. The brain is at 
 this age soft to a degree that would be unnatural in 
 mature years. This resiliency of the skull, and yielding 
 quality of the brain, explain how the child is uninjured 
 by blows, which would be attended with fatal concus- 
 sion in after-life. But there is also a provision in 
 adults for moderating the effects of such accidents. In 
 proportion as the brain acquires firmness during growth, 
 
OF THE SKULL, AS PKOTSCTING THE BRAIN. 47 
 
 a gradual change takes place in the structure of the 
 bones of the head ; the protecting cranium is not simply 
 strengthened ; it is not merely thickened ; the flat 
 bones which surround the brain are split into layers, an 
 external and an internal one. These layers have each a 
 different density, and a softer substance than either is 
 interposed between them ; the effect of which is, to in- 
 terrupt that vibration which would otherwise ring around 
 the skull, and reach every molecule of the brain. 
 
 I have elsewhere * shewn that, in brutes, as in man, 
 the processes and joinings of the skull are formed in 
 relation to the forces to which the head is to be ex- 
 posed ; and that they vary according to the habits or 
 mode of existence of the animal. The tearing fangs 
 of the carnivorous animal, and the still more powerful 
 teeth of the hyena, adapted for breaking the hardest 
 bones, are implanted in sockets of corresponding 
 strength. The horns of the bull, the antlers of the 
 stag, are rooted in bones not only capable of support- 
 ing their weight, but of receiving the shocks to which 
 such instruments expose the brain ; and the firmness 
 of the sutures in the crania of these animals demon- 
 strates the precision with which everything is set in 
 just proportion. 
 
 A remark is here suggested by these considerations. 
 The provisions which we have been noticing in the 
 human head are not designed to give absolute security 
 against violence, but to balance duly the chances of 
 life ; leaving us still under the conviction that pain 
 and death follow injur}' ; so that our experience of 
 bodily suffering, and fear of incurring it, whilst they 
 protect the life, lay the foundation of important moral 
 qualities in our nature. 
 
 Let us now direct our attention especially to the 
 
 * Paley's " Natural Theology with illustrative notes by Henry 
 Lord Brougham and Sir Charles Bell. 
 
48 OF THE SKULL, AS PROTECTING THE BRAIN 
 
 forms of the skull. The back of the head is more ex- 
 posed than the forehead : we defend the front with our 
 arms and hands : not so the back, as in falling back- 
 wards. There is, accordingly, a very marked distinc- 
 tion in the strength of the occipital bone and that of 
 the frontal bone. The prominence felt at the back 
 part of the head is the centre of certain groinings, or 
 arched ridges, which strengthen the bone within. We 
 say groinings, for there is nothing more resembling 
 the strong arches, or groinings, of an underground 
 storey of a building than these projections on the in- 
 terior of the occiput. In front, the skull forms, on the 
 whole, a lighter and more delicate shell than behind ; 
 yet it is not less adapted to protect the brain. The 
 projecting parts of the forehead, which the anatomist 
 calls the eminentice front ales, are, undoubtedly, most ex- 
 posed ; but they are, at the same time, the strongest 
 points of the bone, for here the outer and inner surfaces 
 are not parallel ; there is an accumulation of bony sub- 
 stance in the two tables, to give them increased thick- 
 ness. It has already been seen that the prominences 
 over the eyebrows, characteristic of the mature or manly 
 forehead, have no relation to the form of the brain at 
 this part ; they are merely the anterior walls of the 
 frontal sinuses, — cavities which, it has been stated, 
 belong principally to the organ of vcice ; yet they and 
 the ridges which project towards the temples, are a 
 safeguard to the brain. Those latter raised arches, 
 called the temporal ridges of the frontal bone, consist of 
 dense and hard bone, as obviously designed for adding 
 strength, as is an edging of brass, in carpentry, or a 
 piece of steel let into a horse-shoe. Imagine a man 
 falling side- wise, and pitching on the shoulder and side 
 of the head, — he strikes precisely on that point which 
 is the most convex, the most dense, the thickest, and 
 best protected. 
 
CHARACTERISTIC FORMS OF LOWER ANIMALS. 49 
 
 Altogether, independently of phrenology, it has of 
 old time been acknowledged, that fulness of the fore- 
 head, combined with those forms which have been 
 noticed, is an indication of intellectual capacity; and, as 
 we have shewn, of human character and beauty. All 
 physiologists have agreed in this view ; whilst they are 
 equally confident in affirming that anatomy affords no 
 foundation for mapping the cranium into minute sub- 
 divisions or regions. As nature, by covering the head, 
 has intimated her intention that we shall not there 
 scan our neighbours' capacities, she has given us the 
 universal language of expression. Man is gregarious ; 
 he looks for sympathy : it is not good for him to be 
 alone ; he solicits an unity of sentiment ; and the 
 language which expresses it is in the face. 
 
 THE CHARACTERISTIC FORMS OF THE LOWER ANIMALS. 
 
 Notwithstanding the high authorities in favour of 
 the facial line, we have ventured to say that it is not 
 adapted to give a measure of the capacity or area of 
 the head in contrast with the face, in brutes; because 
 the peculiarities of face in them depend on their 
 instincts and propensities. These are for the most part 
 indicated by the greater development of some one or 
 more of the organs common to them all, and the subser- 
 viency of others, not by the mass of the brain. The 
 head of the horse presents us with an example ; it is 
 an herbivorous or graminivorous animal, and hence the 
 peculiarities of its teeth. Now, it is in accordance 
 with the teeth that the whole character of its form is 
 derived. The incisor teeth or nippers project, that the 
 head may reach the ground for feeding ; and they have 
 a peculiar structure, that they may be preserved sharp. 
 
50 CHARACTERISTIC FORMS OF LOWER ANIMALS. 
 
 The lips also conform to this object ; they are not only 
 suited to cover the teeth, but to project and gather the 
 food. Again, the grinders are large, strong, deeply 
 socketed, and adapted to bear the trituration of the food 
 for a term of years corresponding to the natural life of the 
 animal. While the mouth is small, the head is long ; 
 and the muscles which operate on the lower jaw, to 
 close it, and to give it the lateral motions necessary for 
 grinding, are proportionably large; therefore the depth 
 of the head behind, and the length and narrowness 
 forwards, are the principal characteristics of the horse.* 
 
 Another peculiarity of the horse's head is seen in the 
 construction of his nostril. He does not breathe through 
 the mouth, but only through the nose. Here is an 
 interesting relation of parts, which, though remote in 
 place, are united in function. The nostril is indicative 
 of the state of the lungs : and a large dilateable nostril 
 has descended from the Arabian breed, and marks the 
 capacity of " wind." 
 
 It is agreeable to see the young kid in the first hours 
 of existence, impelled by its instincts to mount the cliffs 
 and summits of the hills ; or to behold the goat perched 
 high on the scarped rock, his beard tossed by the wind, 
 
 * Cuvier has been at the pains of measuring the facial line in a 
 great variety of animals, beginning with the ourang-outang and 
 ending with the horse. Let us take the pug-dog, in which the angle 
 is fixed at 35°, and compare it with the horse at 23°; who will not 
 perceive that the difference of the faiial angles depends on the 
 extension of the jaws of the horse, necessarily arising from the form 
 and number of the teeth, or, in other words, from his mode of 
 feeding ? 
 
 Veterinary surgeons and naturalists have found it difficult to assign 
 a use for certain cavities at the back part of the horde's head called 
 the Eustachian cells. To me they do not appear to be subservient 
 either to neighing or to the organ of hearing, as supposed; but they 
 are placed in this situation, and filled with air, to occupy the large 
 space intervening between the sides of the jaws, without materially 
 increasing the weight. All jockeys know the defect in a horse of a 
 heavy head and long neck. 
 
CHARACTERISTIC FORMS OF LOWER ANIMALS. 51 
 
 and browsing fearlessly. These animals, the sheep, and 
 horned cattle generally, congregate, and make a circle 
 to oppose an enemy and present for their defence a 
 combined front. Their eyes are placed differently from 
 those of the horse ; and the nostril wants the expansion 
 necessary for maintaining a continued flight. The most 
 curious adaptation of the form of an herbivorous animal 
 to its mode of feeding is seen in the giraffe. The whole 
 frame of the creature is formed with the view of enabling 
 it to reach its food, which is not the herbage, but the 
 leaves of trees. The skull is small, and so light, even in 
 comparison with that of the horse, that it is like a 
 thing of paper ; and the tongue and the lips protrude 
 to catch the branches over head. The large prominent 
 eyes, and the limbs formed for flight, betoken the 
 timidity of the creature. 
 
 If we compare a carnivorous animal, as the lion, with 
 a horned animal, as the bull, it will be readily perceived 
 that it is from the teeth or the horns that the whole 
 character of the head results. The peculiarity of the 
 skull of the lion, or the tiger, consists chiefly in the 
 breadth of the face, caused by the large zygomatic 
 processes, which are formed of great size to give room to 
 the strong muscles that close the jaw : and it is visible 
 also in the shortness of the muzzle, and the depth of the 
 face in front, where the canine teeth are situated ; for 
 these must be deeply socketed in the jaws to sustain the 
 strength of the fangs, and the powerful efforts of the 
 animal. The gi inding-teeth are small, and formed so 
 as to cut like scissors ; for there is here no lateral play 
 of the jaws as in grinding ; the canine teeth overlap- 
 ping and preventing that motion. The muscles which 
 close the jaws are of tremendous power, commensurate 
 with the length and strength of those fangs which are 
 for holding or tearing the prey. 
 
 See, again, the head of the boar, how all the pans 
 
 e 2 
 
52 
 
 CHARACTERISTIC ORGANS OF MAN. 
 
 hang, as it were, together, to produce its characteristic 
 form : the snout and the great tusks are for grubbing up 
 roots ; yet, from his strength, he is a formidable animal, 
 for he will turn and rend. This very term implies a 
 great deal ; he does not tear with his teeth, he does 
 not hutt as with horns ; but he runs straight forward, 
 and with his projecting lateral tusk ploughs up the flesh. 
 The whole strength of his body and neck is concentrated 
 to the use of these formidable instruments. Look to 
 ihe antique boar of the Florentine Gallery. The head 
 rises high and projects behind, to give strong attach- 
 ment to the powerful muscles constituting his very 
 peculiarly shaped neck, which is large, thick, inflexible, 
 and suited, when he rushes forwards, to convey the 
 impulse to the head, and finally to the tusks.* 
 
 It ought to be a pleasing study to the artist to found 
 his designs on an accurate knowledge of the structure 
 and functions of animals. This pursuit unites his art 
 with the liberal sciences of the naturalist and the com- 
 parative anatomist. And if he be a lover of the antique, 
 he must have observed that, in the better ages of the 
 arts, the sculptors were remarkable for giving a true 
 and natural character in their representations of brutes. 
 The knowledge of animal form is the only guide to 
 the right conception of the perfection and beauty of the 
 antique. 
 
 FURTHER ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PRINCIPLE, THAT BEAUTY 
 IN THE HUMAN FORM HAS RELATION TO THK CHARAC- 
 TERISTIC ORGANS OF MAN. 
 
 What, then, giv^es nobleness and grace to the human 
 figure, and how is deformity to be avoided? In the 
 statues of antiquity we see that the artists had a perfect 
 
 * ** Brlcteewater Treatise on the Human Hand," Bokn's Library. 
 
CHARACTERISTIC ORGANS OF MAN. 53 
 
 knowledge of the frame, and could represent it in all its 
 natural beauty. But in many of these remains there 
 is something beyond an exact copy of nature,— some- 
 thing which, as we haro seen, has been called divine. 
 Now the difficulty of explaining why such deviations 
 from real nature should inspire us with admiration, 
 has forced inquirers into vague surmises and com- 
 parisons. For example, they have applied the prin- 
 ciples of harmony in music to the beauty of the human 
 figure. 
 
 When the animal frame is surveyed as a whole, or 
 as composed of parts more or less common to all 
 living creatures, which is taking the philosophical 
 view of the subject, an uniform plan is seen to per- 
 vade the animal kingdom. Not only may the skeleton 
 be traced from a shell up to the complex mechanism 
 in man,* but every organ or individual part, when 
 viewed comparatively, will be found to undergo a 
 similar development ; from the simple structure of those 
 creatures which enjoy the lowest kind of sensibility, 
 to that which exists in the human frame. If, according 
 to this view, we examine the head, and follow the 
 course of development of the brain, as the part which 
 occupies the cranium, and then that of the organs of 
 the senses, which together constitute the face, and 
 include the apparatus of speech, we shall distinguish 
 what is peculiar to man. We shall learn what forms 
 of parts bear relation to those endowments by which he 
 holds his acknowledged superiority; and the conclusion 
 may be arrived at, that by magnifying, in works of 
 art, what is peculiarly characteristic of man, we may 
 ennoble his countenance, and, without being strictly 
 natural, attain what is better. 
 
 No faculties of the mind have been bestowed without 
 
 * See the author's " Bridgewater Treatise on the Human Hand/' 
 which may be taken as an introduction to the present subject, 
 
54 
 
 CHARACTER1ST W ORGANS 01 MAN. 
 
 the field for their exercise ; men's capacities, theii 
 thoughts, and their affections, have their counterparts, 
 or objects, to excite or to gratify them. There are 
 beings superior to ourselves, and in a condition of 
 existence different from ourselves, and the mind de- 
 lights m contemplating them. Even in our enjoyment 
 of beautiful objects, our thoughts rise beyond them. 
 We walk into the country, in the woods and wilds, 
 in love with nature and delighting in solitude. But 
 if we examine our minds, we shall find that we people 
 these solitudes ; however we may believe that it is 
 nature and inanimate creation which please us, all is 
 referable to, and concentres in, some reflexion of the 
 voice and features of human kindred. 
 
 In admiring the finer works of antiquity, it is ad- 
 mitted that the forms which we regard as models of 
 perfection are unlike what has existed in nature : that 
 no living head ever had the facial line of the Jupiter, 
 the Apollo, the Mercury, or the Venus. Having found 
 reasons to reject the theory of Camper, the question 
 returns, How is that beautiful which is not natural ? 
 
 Let us take the head of Mercury, which is simply 
 beautiful, and the head of a Satyr, both antique ; and 
 contemplate them in succession. In the Mercury there 
 is a combination of forms and general proportions of 
 the head and face, never seen in all the varieties of living 
 man ; } T et is the whole and each particular feature per- 
 fectly beautiful. In turning to the Satyr, we find every 
 proportion reversed : the forehead narrow and depressed ; 
 the e} T es near, small, and a little oblique; the nose 
 flattened to the upper lip ; the mouth protuberant ; the 
 ears large, tipped, and sharp ; and the expression of the 
 whole goatish and savage ; and what there is of human 
 expression is lively and humorous, but common and 
 base. Now the principle which has been followed in 
 giving beauty to the head of Mercury ie obvious here. 
 
CHARACTERISTIC ORGANS OF MAN. 55 
 
 Whatever is peculiar to the human countenance, as dis- 
 tinguishing it from the brute, is enhanced. Not only 
 is the forehead expanded and projecting, and the facial 
 line more perpendicular, but every feature is modelled on 
 the same principle • the ear is small and round ; the 
 nostril is eminently human, and unlike that of the 
 beast ; the mouth, the teeth, and lips, are not such as 
 belong to the brute, nor are they the mere instruments 
 of mastication, but of speech and human expression. 
 So of every part, take them individually, or as a whole ; 
 whatever would lead to the resemblance of the brute 
 is omitted or diminished. 
 
 The principle is further extended. It is not in the 
 proportions between the face and the brain-case alone 
 that the contrast is perceived, but in the quality or func- 
 tion of each organ. We have adverted to the theory of 
 Cuvier, that as hunger and the animal passions govern 
 brutes, and as the parts which chiefly minister to them 
 in the face, are the organs of smell and of taste, the 
 unusual development of the nose and mouth degrades 
 or bru titles the human countenance. But we remarked, 
 in regard to this, that the nose is not elevated in man 
 to increase the organ of smelling : it belongs to the 
 voice, to human voice and speech. And so must we 
 consider the different functions of the mouth. In brutes, 
 it is for prehension, tearing, and mastication ; in man, 
 its more distinguishable office is speech and expression. 
 Model the lips for this, for eloquence and the expression 
 of the softer passions, and it becomes beautiful ; extend 
 the teeth, and make the lips a mere covering for them, 
 and it is brutal, at variance with human physiognomy 
 and detracting from whatever is agreeable in the face. 
 
 Our principle will apply with equal force to the 
 motions of the face as to the permanent form. Human 
 sentiments prevailing in the expression of a face, vrilj 
 always make it agreeable or lovely. Expression is 
 
56 
 
 CHARACTERISTIC ORGANS OF MAN. 
 
 even of more consequence than shape: it will light 
 tip features otherwise heavy ; it will make us forget 
 all but the quality of the mind. As the natural tones 
 of the voice are understood and felt by all, so it is with 
 the movements of the countenance : on these we are con- 
 tinually intent, and the mind is ever insensibly exercised. 
 
 Whether the views which I have here advocated were 
 ever announced by the ancients, I know not. But 1 
 think it is abundantly evident that their artists acted 
 upon them. They went beyond mere imitation. They 
 advanced to a higher study, that of combining excel- 
 lencies ; selecting what was indicative of the higher 
 and purer qualities, impassioned thought, and this they 
 exaggerated. Their divinities were of human mould ; 
 but still as not visibly present they were creations of 
 their imagination.* 
 
 The explanation which I offer differs from what is 
 
 * In high art it appears to have been the rule of the sculptor 
 to divest the form of expression. In the Apollo, there is such a 
 stillness of features, that everyone follows his fancy, and thinks he 
 sees in the statue what is really in his own mind In the Venus, 
 the form is exquisite and the face perfect, but there is no express on 
 
 there: it has no human softness, nothing to love. Mrs. saw 
 
 a young gentleman, she thinks an American, kissing the tips of his 
 fingers to the statue, as he left the tribune (the apartment dedi- 
 cated to the goddess), but for this the statue gives no licence ; it 
 would not have been unbecoming had he so saluted the Melpomene, 
 for there we see the loveliness which lurks in expression. The 
 authoress of an agreeable work on Home is disturbed because "she 
 has seen women, real living women, almost as beautiful as the Venus, 
 and far more interesting." We should find more of her way of 
 thinking, if all would confess their first impressions. This, however, 
 cannot detract from the perfection of a statue, which has been 
 admired in all times, as now. It only points to the purity of the 
 design, the high aim of the artist, and its successful execution. 
 Had the Helen of Zeuxis been preserved, I can imagine that it 
 would have been of a more feminine and seducing beauty than the 
 Venus. But we must bear in mind that which I have taken notice 
 of in the text, that all individual ty was studiously avoided by the 
 ancient sculptors, in the representation of divinity ; they maintained 
 the beauty of form and proportion, but without expression, which, in 
 their system, belonged exclusively to humanity. 
 
CHARACTERISTIC ORGANS OF M .N. 
 
 57 
 
 commonly given by writers on art. They call the 
 " ideal head " that which does not represent individual 
 beauty, but collective beauties, a selection and adapta- 
 tion of beautiful parts taken from a variety of indi- 
 viduals, and combined in one representation.* I place 
 the superiority of the antique on higher ground, on the 
 more extended study of nature, of brutes as well as of 
 man. 
 
 That the true animal character was fully understood 
 by the ancient artists there is sufficient proof. Is 
 there anything finer than the wolf of the Capitol, or 
 the antique boar, or the dogs in the entrance of the 
 Florentine Gallery, or the horses of the Elgin marbles ? 
 It was this study of pure nature that enabled them to 
 undertake such compositions of surprising beauty, as we 
 see in their Fauns, Satyrs, Centaurs, and masks, where 
 the peculiarities of brutes are engrafted on the human 
 form. And it may be remarked that they did not 
 merely give to their sylvan deities hair and cloven 
 feet ; they bestowed on them a certain consistency of 
 character very difficult of execution, but necessary to 
 reconcile the eye to the absurdity ; a goatish expression 
 of countenance, or a merry festive air, all in conformity 
 with the hair and the hoofs, their embrowned skin, and 
 the savage wildness of their life.f 
 
 What, then, was more natural or obvious, in studying 
 the effect of these forms and characters when transferred 
 
 * <{ Nous dirons done, que la combinaifcon des parties peut former 
 un tout, et ce qu'on appelle 1' ideal." — Winckelmann. 
 
 f The difficulty of giving these combinations of the human and 
 brute character, is shewn in the attempts of modern artists to imi- 
 tate the ancients in their representations of Fauns and sylvan boys. 
 They do not sueni to know how to knit their joints, and their foieg 
 are too sober and wise. 
 
 " faber imus et ungues 
 
 Exprimtt, et molles imitabitur aere capilios, 
 Infelix operis summa, quia ponere totuni 
 Nesciet." 
 
58 CHARACTERISTIC ORGANS OF MAN, 
 
 to the Imman countenance, than that the artist should 
 perceive that the proportions which distinguish them 
 should be avoided, or even reversed, in representing tne 
 dignified and characteristic form of man ? 
 
 Winckelmann would make it appear that the artists 
 of Greece studied the forms of the lower animals for a 
 different purpose : — to join the character of the brute 
 with that of man, in order to embellish him, and to 
 bestow on him new and preternatural properties. And 
 he refers to the heads of Jupiter and of Hercules as 
 instances. " In the former," he says, " we may discover 
 the great eyes, and imposing front, and the mane of the 
 lion ; and in the latter, the head and neck of the bull." 
 
 I must entertain doubts of this theory, and of the 
 effect of the excessive exaggeration ; — in the head of 
 Jupiter I have not felt its influence. But, if the theory 
 be true, it goes to establish the fact, that the artists 
 studied the form of brutes in comparison with that of 
 man ; and I hold it to be an inevitable consequence of 
 such a comparison, that they should discover that the 
 perfection of the human form was to be attained, by 
 avoiding what was characteristic of the inferior animals, 
 and increasing the proportions of those features which 
 belong to man. 
 
 1 shall not deny ingenuity to the theory of Hogarth, 
 or usefulness to that proposed by Sir Joshua Keynolds. 
 But there is danger to the modern artist, if he is 
 led to conceive that he can bestow beauty by following 
 some fancied curve or gradation of outline. Sir Joshua 
 held that beauty is the medium, or centre, of the various 
 forms of individuals : that every species of animal has 
 a fixed and determinate form, towards which nature is 
 continually inclining, like lines terminating in a centre, 
 or pendulums vibrating in different directions over a 
 single point : as all these lines cut the centre, while 
 only one passes through any other point, so he conceived 
 
THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY. 
 
 59 
 
 that perfect beauty is oftener produced than any one 
 kind of deformity. This ingenious idea is well suited 
 to the portrait-painter, who will not be a favourite 
 unless he knows how to soften the features and preserve 
 the likeness. But there is this fatal objection to it ; 
 that, as in the antique the artists deviated from nature, 
 the pendulum would never reach the centre. 
 
 It is happy for philosoph}^ science, history, poetry, 
 and eloquence, that the Greeks were a superior people, 
 and happy for our subject that they were an eminently 
 beautiful people. The artists of Greece certainly did 
 not follow a vague line of beauty. They rather imitated 
 some acknowledged beautiful form of age or sex. They 
 even combined the beauty of both sexes, as in the young 
 Bacchus, or more decidedly in the Hermaphrodite. 
 
 With them, the highest effort of art was to represent 
 man deified ; as it were, purified from the grosser cha- 
 racters of nature. This they did, as we have already 
 seen, by exaggerating whatever is proper to the human 
 form : by increasing what gives dignity, and bestowing 
 features capable of and prone to the expression of the 
 finer emotions ; representing them, either as still and 
 imperturbed, or as indicating a superiority to the things 
 of this lower world. 
 
 In painting, the representation of the Deity is always 
 a distressing failure. If to represent Him who " became 
 man," and u dwelt among us," be the highest effort of 
 art, how is the Creator to be represented? Michael 
 Angelo painted the Deity boldly, and with the expres- 
 sion of the indignant wrath of man. Eaphael repre- 
 sents the Creator plunging into chaos * and separating 
 the elements. But on viewing these paintings, we are 
 brought to feel the insufficiency of the art, and to 
 think of the artist to the exclusion of all sublime con- 
 templations which the subject should inspire. Yet it 
 
 * In the Gallery of Raphael, in the Vatican. 
 
60 
 
 THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY. 
 
 is foolish to call such attempts impiety, since no other 
 idea is presented than that which is inculcated from our 
 infancy. Our expressions in words are at variance with 
 our just conception of Divine Intelligence, and our 
 tongue as imperfect as the pencil of the painter. The 
 one solitary expression in the Scriptures descriptive of 
 the person of God is studiously obscure, and the accom- 
 paniments of His presence, not the countenance of the 
 Almighty, are described. 
 
 The sentiments of Plato, Cicero, and Seneca, are 
 brought to bear on this subject of beauty and ideal 
 perfection. Yet it is fortunate that we have the works 
 of the ancient sculptors before us, to preserve us from 
 the influence of vague theories. Cicero has given us 
 his conception of a perfect orator. " And such an ideal 
 person,'' he says, " may be the object of imitation ; but 
 those who imitate can only approach the model according 
 to the talents which nature has given them. No man can 
 possess all the qualities, or attain to the whole perfection 
 of the model ; he must in some one respect be deficient. 
 His knowledge and capacity of research, his acquaintance 
 with human character, his insinuating or commanding 
 language, or his eloquent appeal to the heart, his coun- 
 tenance and expression, his voice, manner, gesture, 
 cannot be all equally balanced so as to constitute the 
 perfect orator." And he illustrates his position by the 
 example of Phidias, who, when he made the statue of 
 Jupiter and Minerva, took no individual for his model, 
 but had an idea of perfection in his own mind.* 
 
 * In the following quotation, Brutus has asked Cicero what 
 constitutes excellence in oratory. He answers, that no man has 
 been perfect; that there is an ideal perfection which we should 
 attempt to attain, nor resign the effort because to accomplish all 
 is impossible ; just as there is nothing beautiful which may not 
 in imagination be surpassed : — 
 
 " Sed ego sic statuo, nihil esse in ullo genere tarn pulchrum, quo 
 non pulchrios id sit, unde illud, ut ex ore aliquo, quasi imago, ex- 
 primatur, quod neque oculis, neque auribus, neque ullo sensu percipi 
 
THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY. 
 
 Gl 
 
 Here I conceive is the source and the authority for 
 all which has been written on this view of the subject. 
 The great artist had formed a conception of beauty: 
 the question perpetually returns, P>y what studies, by 
 what theory, had he attained this ? The perplexity 
 appears to me to proceed from a distinction being made 
 between the pleasures of the mind, and those addressed 
 to the senses. Plautus says that the poet seeks what 
 nowhere exists, and yet finds it. His genius supplies 
 it, it is in his mind. 
 
 The novelist who has genius to catch and to re- 
 present the feelings of men, and their motives to 
 action, may give a truer picture of his period than the 
 historian, even although he describes what never existed. 
 That is to say, the incidents, the passions, the prejudices, 
 which he describes, may never have been combined as 
 he combines them ; but they are true to nature, and to 
 the state of society in which he lives, and are, therefore, 
 a record of the time. But this is not the rationale of 
 the ideal in painting. 
 
 Or we may illustrate this in another manner. W hen 
 Zeuxis was employed on his Helen, five of the most 
 beautiful women were before him, from whom he com- 
 posed his perfect beauty. But it was not the object of 
 the artist here to produce ideal beauty, or to give that 
 repose of sentiment which is the effect of contemplating 
 
 potest; cogitatione tantum et mente complect I mur. Itaque et 
 Piii iise simulacris, quibus nihil in illo gen ere perfectius videmus, 
 et his picturis, quas nominavi, cogitare tamen possuraus pulchriora. 
 Nec vero ille artifex, cum faceret Jovis form am, aut Miner vse, con- 
 templabatur aliquem, e quo similitudinem duceret: sed ipsius in 
 mente insidebat species pulchritudinis eximiaqusedam,quam intuens, 
 in eaque defixus, ad illius similitudinem artem et manum dirigebat. 
 Ut igitur in formis et figuris est aliquid perfectum et excel! ens, 
 cujus ad cagitatam speciem imitando referuntur ea quae sub oculis 
 ipsa cadunt : sic perfects} eloquentia? speciem animo videmus, 
 effigiem auribus quaerimus. ' — Cickro de Oratore, cap. 2. 
 
62 
 
 THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY, 
 
 the Medicean Venus ; his aim was to represent a beau- 
 tiful and seductive woman, whose charms were to lead 
 men to extravagance. And why have not painters with 
 the same means attained to the same perfection ? It 
 has been answered — Because they have not had the same 
 genius. On which M. Quatremere de Quincy observes, 
 " What, then, is a model, if genius be still necessary 
 in order to imitate it ? Who shall tell whether it is 
 the model that causes genius to see the image of beauty : 
 or, genius that sees its own idea in the model? " * 
 
 There has been another theory advanced, that, in the 
 antique statue there is presented to us the grandeur 
 of form and the proportions of man, as he originally 
 proceeded from the Creator : such as he was designed 
 to be before he was subjected to labour, poverty, and 
 sickness. 
 
 But in the early times of all people, their gods have 
 been represented by the trunks of trees, or pillars rudely 
 carved ; and, when improved, it has been by imitating 
 the human form with simplicity. At first, the head 
 was carved as on a pedestal ; then the neck, breast, and 
 shoulders, and the indication of sex ; then the arms and 
 the extremities were imperfectly blocked out, until, at 
 length, and after ages had passed, the members were 
 displayed free, and the figure perfected in manly 
 beauty. 
 
 I shall once more endeavour to analyse that process 
 of thought by which, out of the contemplation of nature, 
 ideal perfection is derived. The idea of the divine form 
 
 * The same author thus expresses himself : " In this we have 
 the enigma of Plautus solved; in every art, whatever comes within 
 the scope of the understanding, of sentiment, and of genius, does 
 net really exist anywhere; has neither substance nor piace, and is 
 subjected to no one of the senses, while he who finds it is unable to 
 point nut where he has seen the model of it." 
 
 Tliis is language which puffs up the young artist to inordinate 
 conceit : and, instead of studying, sets hin^ a dreaming of something 
 for which he is to be beholden to his innate genius. 
 
THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY. 
 
 63 
 
 in the mind of any man, whatever may be his genius, 
 lias been acquired, and is of human origin ; and the 
 attempts of all painters and sculptors to embody the 
 idea in their works, evince that such is the case. That 
 a man of genius has an idea of perfection cannot be 
 the result of pure imagination. Whatever conceptions 
 he may entertain must have been acquired ; and the 
 question returns, How? Let us suppose a painter to 
 have before him the three Graces ; their perfections 
 are not the same ; for to have full influence on the 
 heart, we know that, however beautiful, each must be 
 individual ; that the form, the attitude, and the ex- 
 pression must be varied, or the interest and grace are 
 injured. The attempt of the painter to combine what 
 is beautiful in each, into one more perfect, would, in 
 my opinion, fail ; nature would be lost, and the whole 
 prove inconsistent. At all events, the combination of 
 individual human beauty, however made, and with 
 whatever exercise of genius contrived, would not pro- 
 duce what is aimed at, — ideal beauty, as exhibited in 
 the remains of antiquity ; a form which we acknow- 
 ledge to be beautiful, but which has had no existence 
 in life or in models. 
 
 With the view of attaining beauty, the artist is not 
 to slight nature or to avoid it, but to study it deeply, 
 as the only source of improvement. He must not only 
 contemplate those beauties which we may suppose to 
 stand before him, but consider where they differ from 
 others less admirable. How beautiful that smile! 
 Eow eloquent those lips ! Let him ask himself in what 
 this consists. Smiling and speech are characteristic of 
 man, and are bestowed to express the affections of the 
 heart, and communicate thought. Give to the mouth 
 the capacity for these. Observe the forehead, and the 
 defined eyebrow : — W T hat is there in nature superior ? 
 
64 
 
 THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY. 
 
 Let him mark them, and then raise and throw forward 
 the forehead, a feature especially human, and elevating 
 to the countenance. Now he sees that depth is given 
 to the eye ; that the shadows fall with bold relief, the 
 eyebrow acquires more freedom, stands in a finer arch, 
 and is more expressive of agreeable emotions. And 
 thus he passes from point to point ; from one feature 
 to another, — the nose, the ear : exaggerating a little 
 the outline of whatever indicates the higher and purer 
 qualities, and avoiding what is low, or whatever is 
 associated with the baser human passions or with the 
 form of the brutes ; and by insensible gradations, and 
 long contemplation of what is highest and best, he 
 acquires, and from nature, that idea which is, in his 
 mind, the perfection of form. 
 
 Supposing that a painter so tutored is set with his 
 fellows to copy a model ; by his knowledge of what 
 constitutes humanity in its most perfect condition, and 
 of what is indicative of human sentiment, he is enabled 
 to elevate his design ; and then it is acknowledged 
 that, whilst he has preserved the likeness, he has refined 
 it, and has introduced something of the purity of the 
 antique. 
 
 Although 1 have taken the form of the head and the 
 features for illustration, the principle is applicable to 
 the whole figure. In comparing the finer forms of 
 antique statues with those of the Athlete, Lapithas, 
 and Fauns, down to the brutes, we see that the grace, 
 the repose, and the nobler attitudes of the human body, 
 are preserved in the former, to the exclusion of what- 
 ever belongs to individual character, or partakes, by 
 association, of what is mean in condition. 
 
 The Satyr and Faun are as mules and hybrids ; the 
 man and the brute are joined ; sometimes wdth the 
 horns and the hoofs, sometimes with nothing more dis- 
 tinctive than the tail; and the conception is fulfilled 
 
NATIONAL PECULIARITIES. 
 
 65 
 
 by the grossness of form, the muscular development 
 and the proportions indicative of activity. But there 
 is neither freedom nor grace of movement in the position 
 of the body or limbs, nor in their proportions or contour. 
 In short, we have the Apollo and Marsyas exhibiting 
 a perfect contrast, and shewing that which is charac- 
 teristic in the one reversed in the other. 
 
 NATIONAL PECULIARITIES IX THE FORM OF THE HEAD. 
 
 Sir David V\ ilkie, whose loss we have had so lately 
 to deplore, was one of my earliest pupils, having at- 
 tended a course of my lectures on anatomy, as connected 
 with design. On returning from the Continent in 
 August, 1840, I found him preparing for a journey ; 
 and he made me guess whither he was going. To 
 Rome? — no. To Greece?— no. Surely not to court 
 fortune in India ? — no. He was setting off to the Holy 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 NATIONAL PECULIARITIES IN 
 
 Land, to study there an Eastern people. In this, he 
 displayed that energy which ever accompanies genius. 
 How much of character, in feature and costume, would 
 he not have thrown into his future pictures ! Here we 
 have a lesson from one entitled to sway our opinion on 
 his art, of the importance of a knowledge of national 
 forms to the historical painter. It is for this reason 
 that I introduce a slight account of the varieties of the 
 human head, depending on national peculiarities. It 
 may assist the artist in the study of such natives of 
 foreign countries as he may chance to meet with. 
 
 Even in the most admired productions of art, I find 
 little to which I can refer for elucidating this subject. 
 Sculptors and painters have been too commonly content 
 to characterize an inhabitant of the East by a tu^t of 
 hair on his crown ; or an African, by a swarthy face. 
 There is a late publication that illustrates the question 
 of national peculiarities in a very interesting way,— a 
 folio volume which contains accurate portraits of the 
 skulls of all the American races, from the old inhabi- 
 tants of Mexico and Peru to those of the farthest north.* 
 
 In considering the extraordinary collection of skulls 
 in this work, with the view of marking the relation 
 between the form of the head and superiority of mind, 
 in men of cultivated intellect, as contrasted with those 
 leading a savage life, it must be acknowledged that 
 much is wanting. Although there can be no objection 
 to the mode adopted by the writer of estimating the 
 actual mass of brain; yet his measurements ought to 
 have been made in reference to the dimensions of the 
 whole body. The size of the cranium, and consequently, 
 the volume of the brain, must be relative to the face ; 
 and the face can be taken only as an imperfect index 
 of the entire skeleton. If the cavity of the skull is to 
 
 * " Crania Americana," by Dr. Morton, Professor of Anatomy in 
 Pennsylvania College. 
 
THE FORM OF THE HEAD. 
 
 67 
 
 l>e gauged, — if the quantity of sand or of seeds, wliich 
 different crania are capable of containing, is to be 
 measured, the comparison will not be satisfactory, un- 
 less the measurement of each be contrasted with that 
 of the face and of the body ; and be also examined 
 with respect to the proportions of the brain itself, or 
 its form. 
 
 Again, it is taken for granted, that we who exercise 
 our best faculties within the four walls of a house, must 
 have a development of brain beyond what the free- 
 dweller in the plains or forests of, what is termed, a 
 new country can possess. I believe, on the contrary, 
 that man, in his state of nature, has imposed upon him 
 the necessity of bringing into operation quite as many 
 faculties of mind as the man at his desk ; and that, 
 from the brain being exercised in every use to which 
 the external senses are put, its volume is not inferior 
 to that of the individual in civilised life. We must 
 take along with us this consideration, that the exercise 
 of our external senses infers an accompanying activity 
 of the brain : that of the nervous apparatus appro- 
 priated to the senses, it is the exterioi part alone that 
 is given to the eye, ear, nose, tongue : the internal part, 
 forming the sensorium, is in the brain. Eemembering 
 this, and that the powers exercised by the savage are 
 not instincts, as in the brutes, but operations of the 
 mind calling the brain into action, T am unwilling to 
 grant that any measurable deficiency in its mass, as a 
 whole, is likely to be perceived. Were it really so, we 
 should find the gamekeeper inferior to his master in a 
 greater degree than my experience warrants. 
 
 Every one must have observed among; those with whom 
 he lives, that there is as nuch variety in feature, stature, 
 ;olour hair, beard, &c, as there is in expression of 
 countenance ■ and a very little philosophy will indicate 
 the necessity of such varieties, for the constitution of 
 
 F 2 
 
68 
 
 NATIONAL PECULIARITIES IN 
 
 society. But in regard to national peculiarities, al- 
 though the distinctions between individuals of a par- 
 ticular country are, doubtless, in many instances as 
 great as between the people of one country compared 
 with another ; yet there are certain forms of head, or 
 casts of feature, or peculiarities of hair, and com- 
 plexion, which characterize different nations. 
 
 We need not here enter into the question, how these 
 distinctions have been produced. It would require much 
 critical examination to decide whether national pecu- 
 liarities of form are owing to an original provision, by 
 which the structure changes, and acquires distinctive 
 characters under the influence of circumstances — such as 
 of the various climates to which the first families were 
 exposed, on their dispersion from one centre ; or whether 
 there are truly distinct races which had a conformation 
 and constitution from the beginning, suited to the 
 regions for which they were destined, and to which 
 they were blindly driven. 
 
 All testimony agrees in shewing that mankind was 
 first planted in Western Asia ; there, in the valle}^s, per- 
 petual su mmer reigns ; there the vegetable productions 
 best suited to man's nourishment are most abundant : 
 there are the animals, in a state of nature, which are led 
 by their instincts to yield themselves up to his use — the 
 horse, the ass, the cow, the sheep, the goat, the camel, 
 the dog ; and there the climate is so favourable to the 
 human constitution, that even now we look to these 
 countries for examples of perfection, both in feature 
 and colour, of man himself. 
 
 From this part of the globe, the varieties of man 
 distinguished as to exterior form and complexion, may 
 be traced divergingly : to this point the sciences and 
 arts may be followed back; and the study of the 
 derivation of tongues, and of the grammatical con- 
 struction of languages, does not negative the conclusion, 
 
THE FORM OF THE HEAD. 
 
 69 
 
 but rather indicates that this part of the earth was the 
 centre from which the nations spread. 
 
 The grouping of mankind into races has occupied 
 the ingenuity of many naturalists and physiologists, 
 from the time of BufFon and Linnaeus to the present 
 day ; but we rest principally on the authority of 
 Blumenbach. In the valleys of the Caucasus, between 
 the Black Sea and the Caspian, we may distinguish, 
 in the Caucasian family, those features which, according 
 to the views just presented, we should say were the 
 nearest to perfection. The skull is large and fully 
 developed in front; the face is small, and the features 
 well proportioned ; the forehead is elevated ; the nose 
 arched, or raised ; the teeth perpendicular in their 
 sockets ; the chin round, and the lips full of expression ; 
 the skin fair ; the eyes dark ; the eyebrows arched ; 
 the eyelashes long ; and the hair varied in coloui. 
 The Circassians have long been noted for the beauty 
 of the women, and for the imposing stature, elegance, 
 and activity of the men : and the Georgians and other 
 tribes are remarkable for personal beauty. 
 
 From this centre, proceeding westward, we recognise 
 the Europeans. The original inhabitants of Thessaly 
 and Greece are designated as the Pelasgic branch : 
 that enterprising and migratory people, who at an early 
 period extended to Italy, and from whom descended the 
 Etruscans. The Hellenes, or Greeks, receiving letters 
 from the Phoenicians, surpassed all the nations of 
 antiquity, in philosophy, literature, and art. The 
 Greek face is a fine oval ; the forehead full, and carried 
 forward ; the eyes large ; the nose straight ; the lips 
 and chin finely formed : in short, the forms of the 
 head and face have been the type of the antique, and 
 of all which we most admire. The modern Greeks 
 are still distinguished by athletic proportions and fine 
 features. 
 
70 
 
 NATIONAL PECULIARITIES IN 
 
 The Roman head differs from the Greek, in having 
 a more arched forehead, a nose more aquiline, and 
 features altogether of a more decided character; and 
 this is even apparent in the busts of that people, as 
 exhibited in the two splendid volumes of Visconti. 
 The remarks of Bishop Wiseman on this subject are 
 important, as his lectures were delivered in Rome, and 
 to persons who had only to step out of the college to 
 ascertain their accuracy. Travellers have often stated 
 that the countenances of the population beyond the 
 Tiber exactly resemble those of the Roman soldiers 
 on the column of Trajan ; but Dr. Wiseman observes 
 correctly, that any one slightly acquainted with art, 
 will sGon be satisfied that the model on these historical 
 monuments is really Grecian, and can give no aid 
 in ascertaining the physiognomy of the ancient in- 
 habitants of Italy. He bids us look to the busts 
 and reclining statues of the ancient Romans, carved 
 on the sarcophagi, or to the series of imperial busts in 
 the Capitol, where we shall discover the true type of 
 the national figure, viz., a large, flat head, a low and 
 wide forehead, a face broad and square, a short and 
 thick neck, and a stout and broad trunk : proportions 
 totally at variance with what are generally considered 
 to be those of the ancient Roman. Nor have we to go 
 far, if in Rome, to find their descendants ; they are 
 to be met with every day in the streets, principally 
 among the burgesses or middle class.* 
 
 * " For my part, I looked for the type of the Eoman soldier 
 among the Galleotti. There was a body of these condemned 
 men chained together, who where marched every evening from 
 their work of rebuilding the great basilica of St. Paul's, beyond 
 the walls. This church, which was burnt, stands some way out 
 of Rome, and I walked beside and behind these bands ; and finer 
 figures are not to by conceived ; their loose dress, and the gyves 
 upon their legs, gave to their air and attitude something formid- 
 able. They seemed fit for the offices of a tyrant, and to subdue 
 die world. I must ever remember one evening, when I saw these 
 
THL FORM OF THE HEAD 
 
 71 
 
 The German race has been spread, from east to 
 west, over a great part of Europe, blending with the 
 Celts. It is separated into the Teutonic and Sclavonian 
 families; their military enterprises form the history 
 of the darker ages, when they came down upon the 
 Roman empire. Other hordes mingled with the 
 Tartars ; and are recognised in history, as the people 
 who broke in upon the Persian and the Eoman empires 
 in the east. The Celtic Gaul of the Romans gave 
 residence to a race, which is now diminished to the 
 remnant living in the mountainous districts of the 
 extreme west of Europe. 
 
 The Mongolian Tartars occupy great part of the 
 north of Asia and Europe. The eyelids of this people 
 are oblique, the nose is small and flat, broad towards the 
 forehead ; the cheek-bones are high, the chin short, 
 and the lips large and thick ; the ears are flat and 
 square ; the general form of the head round. The 
 Mongol Tartar tribes have become mixed with the 
 neighbouring nations, and exhibit a variety of physio- 
 gnomy. Hordes of this people invaded China, and 
 settling in the north of that great empire have blended 
 with the original Chinese. 
 
 To the north-west, they mingled with the polar 
 races, and have merged in the Kamschatkans and 
 Tungusians ; the Huns, whose incursions into more 
 civilised Europe are recorded in history, were Mongol 
 Tartars. The primitive Turks were also of the same 
 
 men, with their mounted guards, passing under the Arch of Titus, 
 and the broad shadow of the Colosseum. Dr. Wiseman says, in 
 regard to the sculptures on that arch, that the profiles of 'Aie 
 soldiers shew that there was a rule, or model, adapted to the 
 common men, and from which the artist might not depart ; while 
 the figure of the emperor, seated in his chariot, forms a strong 
 contrast to them. Though his features are now quite effaced, 
 enough remains of the outline to shew the full, heavy face, aud 
 bulky head of a true Roman." — Notes from Journal. 
 
72 
 
 NATIONAL PECULIARITIES IN 
 
 race ; but, by overrunning Circassia, Georgia, Greece, 
 and Arabia, their physical character has been changed, 
 and they have become a handsome people. The open 
 nostril and short nose, which mark the Turkish coun- 
 tenance, still betray their original extraction; their 
 eyes are dark and animated, and the whole face is ex- 
 pressive and intelligent. 
 
 The Chinese skull is oblong, the frontal bone narrow 
 in proportion to the width of the bones of the face. 
 Accordingly the countenance is flat, and the cheeks 
 expanded ; the eyelids are not freely open, and are 
 drawn obliquely up towards the temples ; the eyebrows 
 are black and highly arched ; the nose is small and 
 flattened, with a marked depression separating it from 
 the forehead; the hair is black, and the complexion 
 sallow. 
 
 The Malay race is scattered through the Indian 
 Islands, Sumatra, Java, Borneo, Amboyna, Celebes, the 
 Philippines, Moluccas. The forehead, in the Malay, is 
 prominent and arched, but low ; the orbits oblique and 
 oblong ; the nasal bones broad and flattened ; the 
 cheek-bones high and expanded ; the jaws projecting. 
 The head is, altogether, large ; the mouth and the lips 
 protrude; the nose is short, depressed, and flattened 
 towards the nostrils ; the eyes are small and oblique. 
 They are of a brown complexion, varying in the dif- 
 ferent tribes. 
 
 Some uncertainty prevails as to the race to which 
 the ancient Egyptians belonged. This has arisen from 
 the difficulty of reconciling the early and extensive 
 knowledge of that people, with the acknowledged de- 
 ficiency of capacity in the Negro. We might expect 
 that the mummies and drawings in their pyramids and 
 tombs should have long since decided the question ; 
 but the position of Egypt may account for the obscurity. 
 Being on the confines of two great continents, the 
 
THE FORM OF THE HEAD. 
 
 73 
 
 Egyptians became early a mixed people. The skull 
 is found to be well formed, and unlike that of the 
 Ethiopian. The probability is, that the Negro was 
 then, as now, a subjugated race.* 
 
 The Greek applied the terms Ethiop and Indian to 
 all the dark people of the south. By Ethiopian, we 
 now correctly understand the different races which 
 inhabit the interior of Africa; extending from the 
 south of Mount Atlas and Abyssinia to the country of 
 the Cafifres and Hottentots. 
 
 The general character of the Negro countenance 
 is familiar to us. Of the great antiquity of the race 
 there can be no doubt. When, indeed, the effigy of the 
 Negro is found depicted on the ancient walls of Egypt, 
 and vessels are dug up, the characters on which are 
 read by modern Chinese, we may well despair of obtain- 
 ing anything like a satisfactory history of the spread 
 of nations, and the settlement of mankind in the 
 different regions of the globe. The depression of the 
 forehead and compression of the temples, which are 
 distinctive of the Africans, although there be splendid 
 examples of fine form among the nations of that con- 
 tinent, mark them as a degraded race.f 
 
 Diverging still from the presumed central origin of 
 
 * Blumenbach thinks that he can discover among the mummies 
 the heads of the Ethiopian, the Indian, and the Besbers. Deuon 
 conceives that the female mummies indicate that the women of 
 ancient Egypt had great beauty. 
 
 f The great families of mankind are distinguished by colour as 
 well as form and features. The Caucasian by white ; the African 
 by black ; the Mongolian by olive, tending to yellow ; the Malay 
 by tawny ; the American by brown, or nearly copper hue. The 
 colour of the hair, and that of the iris partake of the colour of the 
 skin. The Caucasian, with fair complexion, has red, brown, or light- 
 coloured hair, and the eyes of different shades of grey and blue. 
 In those of darker complexion, the hair is black and the eyes dark. 
 In the Mongol, the hair is thin, stiff, and stra'ght In the Euro, 
 pean, soft, flexible, and flowing. In the Negro, thick- et, string, 
 short, and curly. But in all races there spring up occasional 
 varieties. 
 
74 
 
 NATIONAL PECULIARITIES IN 
 
 mankind, we find the Polynesian family in the islands 
 of the Pacific Ocean. The inhabitants of these isles 
 aie of middle stature, athletic, with heavy limbs. 
 Their faces are round or delicately oval ; the nose is 
 well formed, straight or aquiline, sometimes spread 
 out, but not having the flatness of the Negro ; the fore- 
 head is low, but not receding ; the eyes black, bright, 
 and expressive ; the lips full, and the teeth fine.* 
 
 In America, the same difficulties present themselves 
 in relation to the origin and propagation of races as 
 in the Old World. The most recent inquiries authorise 
 the distinction of two families inhabiting America : 
 first, a race called Toltecan, belonging originally to 
 Mexico and Peru, which, from the shapes of the skulls 
 found in the graves, and the accompanying relics, give- 
 evidence of greater civilisation than belongs to the 
 present natives ; and secondly, a people which extending 
 over the greater portion of the vast continent, embraces 
 all the barbarous nations of the New World, except- 
 ing the polar tribes, or Mongolian Americans, which 
 are presumed to be straggling parties from Asia, such 
 as the Esquimaux, Greenlanders, and Fins. 
 
 In the native American, there is no trace of the 
 frizzled locks of the Polynesian or the woolly texture 
 on the head of the Negro. The hair is long, lank, 
 and black ; the beard is deficient ; the cheek-bones are 
 large and prominent ; the lower jaw broad and ponderous, 
 truncated in front ; the teeth vertical and very large ; 
 the nose is decidedly arched, and the nasal cavities of 
 great size. They ought not to be called the copper- 
 coloured race. The colour is brown, or of a cinnamon 
 tint. As in the Old World, the colour varies, and 
 
 * It is amusing to find voyagers making distinctions here be- 
 tween the plebeian and the aristocratic classes. But so it is every- 
 where. Among the Lybians and Moors, as in the countries of Asia 
 and Europe, the comforts and luxuries of life improve the phy- 
 sical condition of man. 
 
THE FORM OF THE HEAD. 
 
 75 
 
 the darkness does not always correspond to the climate 
 or vicinity to the equator. 
 
 Of the imperfect sketch of the varieties of mankind 
 which I have here presented, every sentence might be 
 the text of a long essay. But in this, as in the whole 
 volume, I have attempted only to awaken attention, 
 and to make the reader an observer of what may 
 pass before him ; giving him the elements on which 
 his ingenuity or acumen is to be employed in his inter- 
 course with society. 
 
( 76 ) 
 
 ESSAY III. 
 
 ON THOSE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION IN THE HUMAN COUNTE 
 NANCE WHICH CANNOT BE EXPLAIN P:D ON THE IDEA Of 
 A DIRECT INFLUENCE OF THE MIND UPON THE FEATURES. 
 
 " The heart of a man changeth his countenance, whether for 
 good or evil." — The Son of Sirach. 
 
 " I do believe thee ; 
 I saw his heart in his face." — Shakspeare. 
 
 In the human countenance, under the influence of 
 passion, there are characters expressed, and changes 
 of features produced, which it is impossible to explain 
 on the notion of a direct operation of the mind upon the 
 features. Ignorance of the source of these changes of 
 the features, or inattention to the cause which produces 
 them, has thrown an obscurity over the whole of this 
 subject, which it is my wish to remove. 
 
 If, in the examination of the sources of expression, 
 it should be found that the mind is dependent on the 
 frame of the body, the discovery ought not to 1*. con- 
 sidered as humiliating, or as affecting the belief of 
 a separate existence of that part of our nature on 
 which the changes wrought in the body are ultimately 
 impressed. Since we are dwellers in a material world, 
 it is necessary that the spirit should be connected with 
 it by an organised body, without which it could neither 
 feel nor re-act, nor manifest itself in any ivay. It 
 ifi a fundamental law of our nature that the mind shall 
 
ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION. 
 
 77 
 
 have its powers developed through the influence of 
 the "body ; that the organs of the body shall be the 
 links in the chain of relation between it and tho 
 material world, through which the immaterial principle 
 within shall be affected. 
 
 As the Creator has established this connexion between 
 the mind and external nature, so has He implanted, 
 or caused to be generated, in us, various higher in- 
 tellectual faculties. In every intelligent being He has 
 laid the foundation of emotions that point to Him, 
 affections by which we are drawn to Him, and which 
 rest in Him as their object. In the mind of the rudest 
 slave, left to the education of the mere elements around 
 him, sentiments arise which lead him to a Parent and 
 a Creator. These feelings spring up spontaneously ; 
 they are universal, and not to be shaken off ; and no 
 better example than this can be given of the adapta- 
 tion of the mind to the various relations in which man 
 is placed, or one that tends more to raise in us a con- 
 ception of the Author of our being, and increase our 
 estimation of ourselves, as allied to Him. 
 
 This it is, perhaps, necessary to premise, when I am 
 about to prove the extensive influence of the corporeal 
 on the intellectual part of man. 
 
 In examining the phenomena of the mind, philo- 
 sophers have too much overlooked this relation between 
 the mental operations and the condition of the bodily 
 frame. It appears to me that the frame of the body, 
 exclusive of the special organs of seeing, hearing, &c, h 
 a complex organ, I shall not say of sense, but which 
 ministers, like the external senses, to the mind ; that 
 is to say, as the organs of the five senses serve to furnish 
 ideas of matter, the framework of the body contributes, in 
 certain conditions, to develop various states of the mind.* 
 
 * But since the brain doth lodge the powers of sense, 
 How makes it in the heart those passions spring ? — Davies, 
 
78 
 
 ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION. 
 
 In the affections which we call passions or emotions, 
 there is an influence which points to the breast as the 
 part where they are felt. Some have asserted that they 
 are seated in the bowels ; and the sensations I am about 
 to describe have been arrayed as proofs that the affec- 
 tions exist in the body. But that, I affirm, is im- 
 possible. They are conditions of the mind, and cannot 
 be seated in the body, although they both influence 
 and are influenced by it. 
 
 We have learned enough to know that the impres- 
 sions communicated by the external organs of sense 
 belong really to the mind ; and there can be no doubt 
 that there is a mutual influence exercised by the mind 
 and frame on each other. This is not asserted on the 
 mere grounds that each affection which is deeply felt, 
 is accompanied by a disturbance in our breast ; nor on 
 the language of mankind, which gives universal assent 
 to this proposition ; but it may be proved by circum- 
 stances of expression, in which we cannot be deceived. 
 I shall make it manifest that what the eye, the ear, or 
 the finger, is to the mind, as exciting those ideas which 
 have been appointed to correspond with the qualities of 
 the material world, the organs of the breast are to the 
 development of our affections ; and that without them 
 we might see, hear, and smell, but we should walk the 
 earth coldly indifferent to all emotions which may be 
 said in an especial manner to animate us, and give in- 
 terest and grace to human thoughts and actions. 
 
 By emotions are meant certain changes or affections 
 
 the mind, as grief, joy, astonishment. That such 
 states or conditions of the mind should in any degree 
 pertain to the body, may not, perhaps, be willingly 
 admitted, unless we take along with us that the ideas 
 of sense, as light, sound, or taste, are generated by the 
 organs of the senses, and not by any thing received and 
 oonvoyed by them to the sensorium. It is ascertained 
 
ON THE SOURCES OF EXPKESSIOK. 
 
 79 
 
 that the different organs of the senses can be exercised* 
 and give rise to sensation and perception, when there 
 is no corresponding outward impression ; and the ideas 
 thus excited are according to the organ struck or agi- 
 tated : that is, the same impression conveyed to different 
 organs of sense will give rise to a variety of sensations ; 
 as light, when the eye is struck ; sound, when the ear 
 is struck ; and so on with the other organs ; the sen- 
 sation corresponding with the organ which is exercised, 
 and not with the cause of the impression. A needle 
 passed through, the retina, the organ of vision, will 
 produce the sensation of a spark of fire, not of sharp- 
 ness, or pain ; and the same needle, if applied to the 
 papillae of the tongue, will give rise to the sense of 
 taste ; while if it prick the skin, pain will follow. This 
 law of the senses is arbitrarily or divinely ordered ; it 
 might have been otherwise. Accordingly, when we 
 observe that the organs of the senses operate in pro- 
 ducing specific ideas, independently of their own pecu- 
 liar exciting causes, we can comprehend better how 
 other organs of the body may have a relation established 
 with the mind, and a control over it, without reference 
 to outward impressions. 
 
 Let us consider the heart, in its office of receiving the 
 influence of the mind, and of reflecting that influence. 
 
 It may, in the first place, be observed, that there is 
 hardly an organ of the body limited to one function : all 
 are complex in their operation. How many offices, for 
 example, are performed by the lungs ? It is a singular 
 fact in the history of physiological opinions, that the 
 heart, an organ the most susceptible of being excited 
 by the agitations or derangements of the body, should 
 have been considered at one time as insensible. And 
 yet in one sense it is true that it is so. To actual touch 
 the heart is insensible, as was exhibited to the illus- 
 trious Harvey, in the person of a young nobleman, 
 
80 
 
 ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION". 
 
 who had the heart exposed by disease. This single 
 circumstance, had there been no other evidence, should 
 have earlier directed physiologists to a correct view of 
 the matter, from its proving that the internal organs 
 are affected and united by sensibilities which are al- 
 together different in kind from those bestowed upon 
 the skin. The sensibility of the external surface of the 
 body is a special endowment adapted to the elements 
 around and calculated to protect the interior parts from 
 injury. But though the heart has not this common 
 sense of touch, yet it has an appropriate sensibility, by 
 which it is held united in the closest connexion and 
 sympathy with the other vital organs ; so that it par- 
 ticipates in all the changes of the general system of 
 the body. 
 
 But connected with the heart, and depending on its 
 peculiar and excessive sensibility, there is an extensive 
 apparatus which demands our attention. This is the 
 organ of breathing : a part known obviously as the 
 instrument of speech ; but which I shall show to be 
 more. The organ of breathing, in its association with 
 the heart, is the instrument of expression, and is the 
 part of the frame, by the action of which the emotions 
 are developed and made visible to us. Certain strong 
 feelings of the mind produce a disturbed condition of 
 the heart ; and through that corporeal influence, directly 
 from the heart, indirectly from the mind, the extensive 
 apparatus constituting the organ of breathing is put 
 in motion and gives us the outward signs which we 
 call expression. The man was wrong who found fault 
 with nature for not placing a window before the heart, 
 in order to render visible human thoughts and intentions. 
 There is, in truth, provision made in the countenance 
 and outward bearing for such discoveries. 
 
 One, ignorant of the grounds on which these opinions 
 are founded, has said, u Every strong emotion is directed 
 
ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION. 
 
 8] 
 
 towards the heart ; the heart experiences various kinds 
 of sensation, pleasant or unpleasant, over which, it has 
 no control ; and from thence the agitated spirits are 
 diffused over the body." The fact is certainly so, 
 although the language be figurative. How are these 
 spirits diffused, and what are their effects ? 
 
 We find that the influence of the heart upon tho 
 extended organ of respiration has sway at so early a 
 period of our existence, that we must acknowledge that 
 the operation or play of the instrument of expression 
 precedes the mental emotions with which they are to 
 be joined, accompanies them in their first dawn, 
 strengthens them, and directs them. So that it is 
 not, perhaps, too much to conclude that, from these 
 organs moving in sympathy with the mind, the same 
 uniformity is produced among men, in their internal 
 feelings, emotions, or passions, as there exists in their 
 ideas of external nature from the uniform operations of 
 the organs of sense. 
 
 Let us place examples before us, and then try whether 
 the received doctrines of the passions will furnish us 
 with an explanation of the phenomena, or whether we 
 must go deeper, and seek the assistance of anatomy. 
 
 In the expression of the passions, there is a compound 
 influence in operation. Let us contemplate the appear- 
 ance of terror. We can readily conceive why a man 
 stands with eyes intently fixed on the object of his 
 fears, the eyebrows elevated to the utmost, and the eye 
 largely uncovered ; or why, with hesitating and bewil- 
 dered steps, his eyes are rapidly and wildly in search 
 of something. In this, we only perceive the intent 
 application of his mind to the object of his appro- 
 hensions— its direct influence on the outward organ. 
 But observe him further : there is a spasm on his 
 breast, he cannot breathe freely, the chest is elevated, 
 the muscles of his neck and shoulders are in action, hi& 
 
 Gr 
 
82 
 
 ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION. 
 
 breathing is short and rapid, there is a gasping and a 
 convulsive motion of his lips, a tremor on his hollow 
 cheek, a gulping and catching of his throat ; and why 
 does his heart knock at his ribs, while yet there is 
 no force of circulation? — for his lips and cheeks are 
 ashy pale. 
 
 So in grief, if we attend to the same cla^s of phe- 
 nomena, we shall be able to draw an exact picture. 
 Let us imagine to ourselves the overwhelming influence 
 of grief on woman. The object in her mind has ab- 
 sorbed all the powers of the frame, the body is no more 
 regarded, the spirits have left it, it reclines, and the 
 limbs gravitate ; they are nerveless and relaxed, and 
 she scarcely breathes ; but why comes at intervals the 
 long-drawn sigh 9 — why are the neck and throat con- 
 vulsed? — what causes the swelling and quivering of the 
 lips, and the deadly paleness of the face ? — or why is the 
 hand so pale and earthly cold ? — and why, at intervals, 
 as the agony returns, does the convulsion spread over 
 the frame like a paroxysm of suffocation ? 
 
 It must, I think, be acknowledged, when we come to 
 arrange these phenomena, these outward signs of the 
 passions, that they cannot proceed from the direct in- 
 fluence of the mind alone. However strange it may 
 sound to unaccustomed ears, it is to the heart and 
 lungs, and all the extended instrument of breathing, 
 that we are to trace these effects. 
 
 Over such motions of the body the mind has an 
 unequal control. By a strong effort the outward 
 tokens may be restrained, at least in regard to the 
 general bearing of the body ; but who, while suffering, 
 can retain the natural fulness of his features, or the 
 healthful colour of his cheek, the unembarrassed res- 
 piration and clearness of the natural voice ? The 
 villain may command his voice, and mask his purpose 
 with light and libertine words, or carry an habitua] 
 
ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION. 
 
 83 
 
 sneer of contempt of all softer passions; but his un- 
 natural paleness, and the sinking of his features, will 
 betray that he suffers. Clarence says to his murderers, 
 
 " How deadly dost thou speak ! 
 Your eyes do menace me : Why look you pale ? " * 
 
 But the just feelings of mankind demand respect, 
 men will not have the violence of grief obtruded on 
 them. To preserve the dignity of his character, the 
 actor must permit those uncontrollable signs of suffer- 
 ing alone to escape, which betray how much he feels, 
 and how much he restrains. 
 
 Even while asleep, these interior organs of feeling 
 will prevail and disclose the source of expression. Has 
 my reader seen Mrs. Siddons in Queen Katherine during 
 that solemn scene where the sad note was played which 
 she named her knell ? Who taught the crowd sitting 
 at a play, an audience differing in age, habits, and 
 education, to believe those quivering motions, and that 
 gentle smile, and those slight convulsive twitchings, to 
 be true to nature ? To see every one hushed to the 
 softest breathing of sympathy with the silent expres- 
 sion of the actress, exhibits all mankind held together 
 by one universal feeling : and that feeling, excited by 
 expression, so deeply laid in our nature, as to have 
 influence, without being obvious to reason. 
 
 To illustrate this curious subject, I shall first explain 
 the extensive connexions which are established betwixt 
 the great organs that sustain life and the muscular 
 system of the face, neck, and chest. I shall then shew 
 that the functions of these organs are affected by 
 passions of the mind. I shall prove that this connexion 
 subsists at the moment of birth, and accompanies us 
 through life ; and, finally, that from this source are 
 
 * " And troubled blood through his pale face was seen 
 To come and go. with tidings from his heart." — Faery Queciz. 
 
 G 2 
 
84 
 
 ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION. 
 
 derived those obscure indications of emotion in tho 
 countenance and general frame, which cannot be ex- 
 plained on the supposition of a direct influence of the 
 mind on the muscles of expression. 
 
 The heart and the lungs may be safely taken as two 
 parts which are combined in the same function. The 
 action of the heart, and the motion of the lungs, are 
 equally necessary to the circulation of that blood which 
 is fitted for the supply of the body ; and the inter- 
 ruption of their motions threatens life. Accordingly, 
 these two organs are united by nerves, and consequently 
 by the closest sympathy ; and in all the variations to 
 which they are liable, they are still found to correspond, 
 the accelerated action of the one being directly followed 
 by the excitement of the other. 
 
 The motion of the lungs proceeds from a force 
 altogether external to them : they themselves are 
 passive, being moved by a very great number of 
 muscles which lie upon the breast, back, and neck ; 
 that is, the exterior muscles give play to the ribs, 
 and the lungs follow the motions of the chest. The 
 heart and lungs, though insensible to common im- 
 pression, yet being acutely alive to their proper 
 stimulus, suffer from the slightest change of posture 
 or exertion of the frame, and also from the changes 
 or affections of the mind. The impression thus made 
 on these internal organs is not visible by its effect 
 upon tnem, but on the external and remote muscles, 
 associated with them. This law exists in all man- 
 kind ; we see the consequence in those susceptible and 
 nervous persons, whom the mere change of position, or 
 the effort of rising, or the slightest emotion * f mind, 
 flutters and agitates. But it is when the strong are 
 subdued by this mysterious union of soul and body, 
 when passion tears the breast, that the most afflicting 
 picture of human frailty is presented, and the surest 
 
ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION. 
 
 85 
 
 proof afforded, that it is on the respiratory organs that 
 the influence of passion falls with so powerful an ex- 
 pression of agony. 
 
 The next circumstance of this detail to which I beg 
 attention, is the extent of the actions of respiration : 
 the remoteness of the parts agitated in sympathy with 
 the heart. The act of respiration is not limited to the 
 trunk ; the actions of certain muscles of the windpipe, 
 the throat, the lips, the nostrils, are necessary to expand 
 those tubes and openings, so that the air may be ad- 
 mitted through them in respiration, with a freedom 
 corresponding with the increased action of the chest. 
 Without this, the sides of these pliant tubes would fall 
 together, and we should be suffocated by exertion or 
 passion. Let us consider how many muscles are combined 
 in the simple act of breathing — how many are added in 
 the act of coughing — how these are changed and modified 
 in sneezing ; — let us reflect on the various combinations 
 of muscles of the throat, windpipe, tongue, lips, in 
 speaking and singing, and we shall be able justly to es- 
 timate the extent of the muscles which are associated 
 with the proper or simple act of dilating and compressing 
 the chest. But how much more numerous are the changes 
 wrought upon these muscles, when nature employs them 
 in the double capacity of communicating our thoughts 
 and feelings ; not in the language of sounds merely, but 
 in the language of expression in the countenance also : 
 for certainly the one is as much their office as the othei 
 
 The nervous system is complex in an extraordinary 
 degree ; but the reader may not be deterred from 
 attempting to understand at least so much, that there 
 is a class of nerves appropriated to respiration. These 
 nerves arise from the same part of the brain ; the great 
 central nerve descends into the chest, to be distributed 
 to the heart and lungs ; and the others extend to the 
 exterior muscles of the chest, neck, and face. Unde* 
 
ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION. 
 
 the influence of the central nerve, the diverging ex- 
 ternal ones become the instruments of breathing and of 
 expression. The labour of many months discloses to 
 the anatomist but a part of these nervous cords : and 
 the consideration of the uses they serve presents the 
 most overwhelming proof of the excellence of design, 
 — but a design made manifest by the results, rather 
 than comprehensible in its means. 
 
 Can we perfectly understand how tickling the throat 
 should produce a convulsion over the whole frame, 
 in which a hundred muscles are finely adjusted and 
 proportioned in their actions to expel what irritates the 
 windpipe? or, how tickling the nostril should make a 
 change in these muscles, throw some out, and bring 
 others into action, to the effect of sending the air 
 through a different tube to remove what is offensive, 
 and all this without the act of the will. 
 
 Let us see how the machine works. Observe a man 
 threatened with suffocation : remark the sudden and 
 wild energy that pervades every feature ; the contrac- 
 tions of his throat, the gasping and the spasmodic 
 twitchings of his face, the heaving of his chest and 
 shoulders, and how he stretches his hands, and catches 
 like a drowning man. These are efforts made under 
 the oppressive, intolerable sensation at his heart ; and 
 the means which nature employs, to guard and preserve 
 the animal machine, giving to the vital organ a sensi- 
 bility that irresistibly excites to the utmost exertion. 
 
 It is this painful sensation that introduces us to 
 "this breathing world," which guards the vital func- 
 tions through life, as it draws us into existence. Pain 
 is the agent which most effectually rouses the dormant 
 faculties of both mind and body. While the child 
 slumbers in the womb it does not live by breathing, 
 it possesses an organ which performs the office of the 
 lungs. In the birth there is a short interval, betwixt 
 
 V 
 
ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION. 
 
 87 
 
 the loss of the one organ, and the substitution of the 
 other ; nor would the breath ever be drawn, or the lungs 
 perform their function, but for this painful and irresist- 
 ible nisus, which calls the whole corresponding muscles 
 into action. Spasms and contractions are seen to extend 
 over the infant's chest ; the features are working, and 
 the muscles of the face agitated, probably for the first 
 time : at last, air is admitted into the lungs, a feeble cry 
 is heard, the air in successive inspirations fully dilates 
 the chest, and the child cries lustily. Now the regu- 
 lar respiration is established, and the animal machinery 
 subsides into repose. 
 
 " We came crying hither. 
 Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air 
 We wawl and cry : I will preach to thee : mark, 
 When we are born, we cry, that we are come 
 To this great stage of fools!" — Lear. 
 
 With the revolution which the whole economy has 
 undergone, new wants are engendered, new appetites ; 
 these are again lulled by the mother's breast. During 
 all this no one sympathises with the little sufferer : 
 the grimace with which he enters the world excites 
 only smiles. 
 
 " On parent's knees, a naked new-born child, 
 Weeping thou sat'st, while all around thee smiled — 
 So live, that sinking in thy last long sleep 
 Calm thou may'st smile, when all around thee weep." 
 
 From the Persian. 
 
 " Anger," says Lord Bacon, " is certainly a kind 
 of baseness, as it appears well in the weakness of 
 those subjects in whom it reigns — children, women, 
 old folks, sick folks." But this I may say, that anger is 
 at no period of life so strongly impressed upon human 
 features, as in the first moment of our visiting the light. 
 At the instant of our birth, an association of muscles 
 is formed, and at the same time put in operation 
 
( 90 ) 
 
 ESSAY IV. 
 
 OF THE MUSCLES OF THE FACE IN MAN. 
 
 The muscular part of the animal frame consists of a 
 peculiar fleshy substance, possessing the power of con- 
 traction, and, consequently, of producing motion. In 
 the limbs and trunk, the muscles are attached to the 
 bones, and are distinct and powerful : but as in the face 
 they have merely to operate on the skin, the lips, nostrils 
 and eyelids, they require less power, and are, therefore, 
 more delicate. And that power is not always directly 
 under the will, like the muscular exertions of the body 
 and limbs ; it is often involuntary, and is inseparably 
 united to the conditions or affections of the mind. The 
 latter consideration gives much interest to the subject ; 
 for, by this provision in the muscles, the very spirit by 
 which the body is animated, and the various emotions, 
 shine out in the countenance. 
 
 It has been said that the superiority of the human 
 face in expression is an accidental effect of the number 
 of muscles which are provided in man for the faculty of 
 speech. That many of the muscles called into action 
 in speech are also employed in expression will be 
 readily admitted ; but besides these, there are muscles 
 of the human features which have no connexion with 
 the voice, and are purely instrumental in expression. 
 Further, the human countenance is pre-eminent in 
 possessing, not only the muscles proper to man, but 
 also the peculiarities of two great classes of the lower 
 animals, having the muscles which are characteristic of 
 both these classes combined. 
 
MUSCLES OF THE FOREHEAD AND EYEBROW. 91 
 
 To understand what follows, it is not necessary for 
 the reader to know more of the structure of muscles 
 than that they are formed of distinct packets of fibres ; 
 that the extremities are called their origins and in- 
 sertions : the fixed extremity, attached generally to 
 some point of bone, being the origin ; the extremity 
 which is moved, the insertion. I shall consider the 
 muscles of the face in three groups. First, those 
 which surround the eye ; secondly, those which move 
 the nostrils ; and lastly, those around the mouth. 
 
 And first, 
 
 OF THE MUSCLES OF THE FOREHEAD AND EYEBROW. 
 
 The forehead is more than any other part charac- 
 teristic of the human countenance. It is the seat of 
 thought, a tablet where every emotion is distinctly 
 impressed ; and the eyebrow is the moveable type for 
 this fair page. 
 
 " Frons hominis tristitise, hilaritatis, dementias, severitatis, 
 index est." Pliny 
 
 The eye is the chief feature of expression. It takes 
 a thousand shades from the relations of the surrounding 
 parts ; and the eyebrow, that dark arch which sur- 
 mounts it, is itself an eloquent index of the mind. 
 Some one has called the eyebrow " the rainbow of peace, 
 or the bended bow of discord." * 
 
 There are four muscles attached to the eyebrow. 
 
 1. A muscle, called occipito frontalis (a), descends 
 over the forehead, and is inserted into the eyebrow, 
 where it mingles its fibres with the next muscle. The 
 simple action of the frontal portion of the occipito 
 
 * Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, 
 Fortels the nature of a tragic volume ; 
 So looks the strond, whereon the imperious flood 
 Hath left a witnessed usurpation. — Shakspeare. 
 
92 MUSCLES OF THE FOREHEAD AND EYEBROW. 
 
 frontalis is to raise or arch the eyebrow, as in surprise 
 or doubt ; or, as if we meant to say, " I must look 
 further into this." 
 
 2. The muscle which closes the eyelids, is the orbicu- 
 laris palpebrarum (b). We shall divide this muscle 
 into three parts. Its fibres surround the eye, being 
 spread in a circular direction upon the margin of the 
 orbit and the eyelids. The stronger portion, encircling 
 the orbit, shuts the eyelids with that spasmodic force 
 which is felt when something irritating is thrown 
 
 into the eye. The paler and more delicate fibres, which 
 lie more immediately upon the eyelids, gently close the 
 eye, as in winking, or in sleep. A third set of fibres is 
 situated directly on the margins of the eyelids.* It is 
 the outer and stronger circle which draws down the eye- 
 brow, and is the direct opponent of the occipito frontalis. 
 
 3. The third muscle (c), is properly a part of the 
 first, and is termed the descending slip of the occipito 
 frontalis. As it descends on the side of the nose to be 
 attached to the bridge, it has a different effect from the 
 
 * For the actions of these different portions of the general 
 muscle, see the author's " Practical Essays," Part I. on Squinting. 
 
MUSCLES OF THE FOREHEAD AND EYEBROW. 93 
 
 greater part of the muscle : it draws down the inner 
 extremity of the eyebrow. 
 
 4. The next muscle is the corragator supercilii (d). It 
 arises from the lowest point of the frontal bone, where 
 it joins the bones of the nose, and running obliquely up- 
 wards, is inserted into the skin under the eyebrow. 
 The two muscles acting together knit the eyebrows. 
 These are the muscles of the forehead and eyebrows. 
 
 In the arched and polished forehead, terminated by 
 the distinct line of the eyebrow, there is an especial 
 capacity for indicating human thought. The lines drawn 
 here often give meaning of a high character to motions 
 of the features in the lower part of the face, which 
 would otherwise express mere animal activity. And it 
 is not a fleshy brow that is best adapted for expression 
 The fulness of the forehead and around the eyes, which 
 the artists and poets combined to give to Hercules, 
 conveys the idea of dull, brutal strength, and a lower- 
 ing expression ; while the forehead of the thin, pale 
 student, may evince intelligence or elevatiomof thought. 
 
 The levator palpebree superioris, the muscle which raises 
 the upper eyelid, and is an opponent of the orbicularis, 
 arises deep within the orbit, and is attached in front 
 to the cartilage which gives form and firmness to the 
 upper eyelid. 
 
 There are also within the orbit six other muscles, 
 which are inserted into the eyeball. Their action is a 
 subject of high interest, to discuss which would require 
 a volume. I must limit myself to the question of the 
 expression of the eye ; referring the reader for more 
 ample illustrations, to those memoirs which treat of 
 the subserviency of the muscles to vision, and of their 
 action in cleaning the cornea, and protecting the 
 organ.* 
 
 * See the " Nervous System," 4th edition, p. 145 ; " Bridgewatel 
 Treatise on the Hand," Bonn's Library. 
 
94 
 
 THE EXPRESSION OF THE EYE. 
 
 OF THE EXPRESSION OF THE HUMAN EYE. 
 
 The eye is tlie most lively feature in the counte- 
 nance ; the first of our senses to awake, and the last to 
 cease motion. It is indicative of the higher and the 
 holier emotions — of all those feelings which distinguish 
 man from the brutes. 
 
 A large eye is not only consistent with beauty, but 
 necessary to it. The eye of the eagle, even of the ox, is 
 familiar in the similes of poets. The Arab expresses 
 his idea of a woman's beauty, by saying, that she has 
 the eye of the gazelle ; it is the burthen of their songs 
 The timidity, gentleness, and innocent fear, in the eye 
 of the deer tribe, are compared with the modesty of a 
 young girl. " Let her be as the loving hind, and 
 pleasant roe." In the eye we look for meaning, foi 
 human sentiment, for reproof.* 
 
 Do architects study enough, when arranging the 
 masses of their buildings for effect, how the shadows 
 will fall? The statuary, at all events, must. "The 
 eye ought to be sunk," says Winkelmann.*]* Yes, rela- 
 tively to the forehead ; but not in reference to the face. 
 That would give a very mean expression. It is the 
 strong shadow produced by the projecting eyebrow, 
 which gives powerful effect to the eye, in sculpture. 
 
 We have said, that the eye indicates the holier emo- 
 tions. In all stages of society, and in every clime, 
 the posture and expression of reverence have been 
 the same. The works of the great masters, who 
 have represented the more sublime passions of man, 
 may be adduced as evidences : by the upturned direction 
 
 * " I gave him," said Dr. Parr, " the chastisement of my eye." 
 t "Aux tetes ideales, les yeux sont toujours plus enfonces qu'ils 
 le le sont en general dans la nature." 
 
THE EXPRESSION OF THE EYE. 
 
 95 
 
 of the eyes, and a correspondence of feature and atti- 
 tude, they address us in language intelligible to all 
 mankind. The humble posture and raised eyes are 
 natural, whether in the darkened chamber, or under the 
 open vault of heaven. 
 
 On first consideration, it seems merely consistent, 
 that when pious thoughts prevail, man should turn 
 his eyes from things earthly to the purer objects 
 above. But there is a reason for this, which is every 
 way worthy of attention. When subject to particular 
 influences, the natural position of the eyeball is to be 
 directed upwards. In sleep, languor and depression, 
 or when affected with strong emotions, the eyes naturally 
 and insensibly roll upwards. The action is not a volun- 
 tary one ; it is irresistible. Hence, in reverence, in devo- 
 tion, in agony of mind, in all sentiments of pity, in bodily 
 pain with fear of death, the eyes assume that position. 
 
 Let us explain by what muscles the eyes are so 
 revolved. There are two sets of muscles which govern 
 the motions of the eyeball. Four straight muscles, 
 attached at cardinal points by combining their action, 
 move it in every direction required for vision ; and 
 these muscles are subject to the will. When the straight 
 muscles, from weariness or exhaustion, cease to guide 
 the eye, two other muscles operate to roll it upwards 
 under the eyelid ; these are the oblique muscles. Ac- 
 cordingly, in sleep, in fainting, in approaching death, 
 when the four voluntary muscles resign their action, 
 and insensibility creeps over the retina, the oblique 
 muscles prevail, and the pupil is revolved, so as to 
 expose only the white of the eye. It is so far consola- 
 tory to reflect, that the apparent agony indicated by 
 this direction of the eyes, in fainting or the approach 
 ^f death, is the effect of encroaching insensibility — of 
 ibjects impressed on the nerve of vision being no longer 
 Derceived. 
 
THE EXPRESSION OF THE EYE. 
 
 We thus see that when wrapt in devotional feelings, 
 and when outward impressions are unheeded, the eyes 
 are raised by an action neither taught nor acquired. 
 It is by this instinctive motion we are led to bow with 
 humility — to look upwards in prayer, and to regard 
 the visible heavens as the seat of God. 
 
 " Prayer is the upward glancing of the eye, 
 When none but God is near." 
 
 Although the savage does not always distinguish 
 God from the heavens above him, this direction of 
 the eye would appear to be the source of the universal 
 belief that the Supreme Being has His throne above. 
 The idolatrous Negro in praying for rice and yams, 
 or that he may be active and swift, lifts up his eyes 
 to the canopy of the sky.* So, in intercourse with God, 
 although we are taught that our globe is ever re- 
 volving : though religion inculcates that the Almighty 
 is everywhere, yet, under the influence of this position 
 of the eye, which is no doubt designed for a purpose, 
 — we seek Him on high. " I will lift up mine eyes 
 unto the hills from whence cometh my help."f 
 
 See, then, how this property of our bodily frame 
 has influenced our opinions, and belief; our conceptions 
 of the Deity — our religious observances — our poetry, 
 and daily habits. 
 
 Although the geologist may think that the account 
 
 * Barbot : " Description of Guinea." 
 
 f The same influence, which thus induces a posture of the body 
 in accommodation to the eye, makes the attitude of stooping tho 
 sign of supplication — of obeisance — and courtesy, among all 
 nations. "And Araunah looked, and saw the king and his servants 
 coming on towards him ; and Araunah went out, and bowed 
 himself before the kin^, od his face upon the ground. " So, 
 Abraham : " And he lift up his eyes and looked, and lo three 
 men stood by him ; and when he saw them he ran to meet them 
 from the tent door, and bowed himself toward the ground." 
 
 The Mahomedans, in acts of devotion, cross their hands on 
 their bosom and incline the head. 
 
Page 96 
 
 PRAYER 
 
THE EXPRESSION OF THE EYE. 
 
 97 
 
 in the Scriptures of the formation of the earth, is con- 
 tradicted by his theories, we perceive in our present 
 investigation a strict agreement in man's inmost 
 structure with the book of life ; and we may say with 
 Kepler, that man should not resign his natural feelings 
 and thoughts in pursuit of philosophy, " but that, 
 lifting up his natural eyes, with which alone he can 
 see, he should from his own heart pour himself out in 
 worship to the Creator ; being certain that he gives no 
 less worship to God than the astronomer." 
 
 By this physical conformation, combined with our 
 highest quality of mind, we are led to the expression 
 of devotion. The design of man's being was, that he 
 might praise and honour his Maker. Gratitude is 
 the debt of our nature, and in this property of the eye 
 there is pointed out to us how that gratitude, which 
 is the distinguishing character of our minds, is to be 
 directed. 
 
 The orbicularis muscle of the eyelids acts powerfully 
 in certain kinds of expression. In laughing and 
 crying, the outer circle of this muscle, as it contracts, 
 gathers up the skin about the eye ; and at the same 
 time it compresses the eyeball. A new interest is 
 given to the subject when we inquire into the object 
 of that compression. It has a distinct relation to the 
 circulation of the blood within the eye. During every 
 violent act of expiration, whether in hearty laughter, 
 weeping, coughing, or sneezing, the eyeball is firmly 
 compressed by the fibres of the orbicularis ; and this is 
 a provision for supporting and defending the vascular 
 system of the interior of the eye from a retrograde 
 impulse communicated to the blood in the veins at 
 that time. When we contract the chest, and expel the 
 air, there is a retardation of the blood in the veins of 
 the neck and head ; and in the more powerful acts 
 of expulsion, the blood not only distends the vessels, 
 
 H 
 
98 
 
 THE EXPRESSION OF THE EYE. 
 
 but is even regurgitated into the minute branches. 
 Were the eye not properly compressed at that time, 
 and a resistance given to the shock, irreparable 
 injury might be inflicted on the delicate textures of 
 the interior of the eye.* Hence we see a reason for the 
 closed state of the eyelids, and wrinkling of the sur- 
 rounding skin, and twinkling of the eye, in hearty 
 laughter. 
 
 In the drunkard, there is a heaviness of eye, a dis- 
 position to squint, and to see double, and a forcible 
 elevation of the eyebrow to counteract the dropping of 
 the upper eyelid, and preserve the eyes from closing. 
 Hogarth has very happily caught this hanging of the 
 eyelid, with the effort in the muscles of the forehead to 
 prevent it from actually falling. The peculiar ex- 
 pression may be thus explained. In the stupor of 
 inebriation, the voluntary muscles of the eyeball resign 
 their action to the oblique muscles, which, as we have 
 Been, instinctively revolve the eye upwards when 
 insensibility comes on : at the same time, the muscle 
 which elevates the upper lid yields, in sympathy with 
 the oblique muscles, to the action of the orbicularis 
 which closes the eyes, and the eyelid drops. The 
 condition is, in short, the same as that of falling asleep ; 
 when the eyeball revolves as the lids close. It is the 
 struggle of the drunkard to resist, with his half- 
 conscious efforts, the rapid turning up of the eye, and 
 to preserve it under the control of the voluntary 
 muscles, that makes him see objects distorted, and 
 strive, by arching his eyebrows, to keep the upper lid 
 from descending. The puzzled appearance which this 
 
 * " If we separate the eyelids of a child, to examine the eye while 
 it cries and struggles with passion, by taking off the natural 
 support to the vascular system of the eye, and the means of 
 guarding it against the rush of blood then occurring, the con- 
 junctiva becomes suddenly filled with blood, and the eyelids 
 everted." — Nervous System, p. 175. 
 
OF THE MUSCLES OF THE NOSTEILS. 99 
 
 gives rise to, along with the relaxation of the lower 
 part of the face, and the slight paralytic obliquity of the 
 mouth, complete the degrading expression. 
 
 OF THE MUSCLES OF THE NOSTRILS. 
 
 The nostrils are features which have a powerful 
 effect in expression. The breath being drawn through 
 them, and their structure formed for alternate expansion 
 
 and contraction in correspondence with the motions 
 of the chest, they are an index of the condition of 
 respiration, when affected by emotion. As they consist 
 of cartilages moved by appropriate muscles, acting in 
 strict sympathy with the drawing of the breath, they 
 become expressive of animal excitement. 
 
 We may enumerate four muscles which move the 
 cartilages of the nostrils. 
 
 Levator lahii sujperioris et alee nasi (a). — This muscle 
 
 h 2 
 
100 MUSCLES OF THE LIPS AND CHEEKS. 
 
 arises from the upper jaw-bone, and descends to the 
 lip ; but a part of it stops short, to be attached to the 
 moveable cartilage of the nostril ; it raises the nostril 
 along with the upper lip. 
 
 The Depressor alee nasi (b) arises from the upper jaw- 
 bone, close to the sockets of the front teeth ; it ascends 
 and is inserted into the lateral cartilage of the nostril, 
 and pulls down that cartilage. 
 
 The Compressor nasi (c) arises from the cartilaginous 
 oridge of the nose,* and is inserted into the lateral car- 
 tilage of the nostril. The name would imply that this 
 muscle compresses the membraneous part of the nose, 
 which it does; but its principal action must be to 
 expand the nostril, by raising the lateral cartilage. 
 
 The next muscle is a slip of the Orbicularis oris (d), 
 which, detaching itself from that mass of the muscle, 
 runs up to the edge of the septum of the nose. 
 
 Thus we see how Nature has provided for the motions 
 of the nostrils. The actions of these muscles are con- 
 trolled by a nerve of the class which has been dis- 
 tinguished as subservient to the apparatus of breathing ; 
 and it is owing to this that the sympathy is established 
 between the general act of drawing the breath and 
 the expansion of the nostrils. As the motions of the 
 nostrils, however, are intimately connected with those 
 of the lips, I shall defer making any further observations 
 upon them, until the muscles of the mouth have been 
 described. 
 
 MUSCLES OF THE LIPS AND CHEEKS. 
 
 Tne fleshy structure of the lips is in a great measure 
 owing to a circular muscle which surrounds the mouth. 
 
 * That is certainly its most fixed extremity. 
 
MUSCLES OF THE LIPS AND CHEEKS. 101 
 
 This muscle closes the lips, and is the opponent of many- 
 other muscles, which, taking their origin from the 
 prominent points of the bones of the face, are con- 
 centred towards the mouth, and, besides opening it, 
 move the lips in various directions. We must look 
 upon the whole of these muscles in three points of view : 
 1, as belonging to mastication, turning the morsel, and 
 placing it under the action of the teeth ; 2, as part of 
 
 the organ of speech ; and 3, as powerful agents in ex- 
 pression. 
 
 Orbicularis ons(A). — The fibres of this circular muscle 
 can be traced continuously round the lips, and have 
 properly no origin. We have already taken notice of 
 the Levator labii superioris et alee nasi (b), some fibres 
 of which are inserted into the upper lip. 
 
 The Levator labii proprius (c) arises from the upper 
 jaw, near the orbit. It is attached exclusively to the 
 upper lip, and raises it. 
 
 Levator anguli oris (d). — This muscle lies under the 
 
102 MUSCLES OP THE LIPS AND CHEEKS. 
 
 last, and is, of course, shorter ; it raises the angle of the 
 month. 
 
 The Zygomaticus (e) arises from the zygoma, a process 
 of the cheekbone, which joins the temporal bone ; it is 
 inserted into the angle of the mouth. 
 
 There is sometimes an additional muscle, arising and 
 inserted in a similar manner, called the zygomaticus 
 minor (f). 
 
 The Buccinator (some of the fibres of which are repre- 
 sented by g) is a flat muscle, which lines the inside of the 
 cheek, and, arising from the sockets of the back teeth 
 of both jaw-bones, is inserted into the angle of the 
 mouth. 
 
 As the teeth of man indicate that he is omnivorous, 
 and intermediate between the two great tribes of 
 animals — the carnivorous and herbivorous; we expect 
 the muscles also to exhibit the same middle state and to 
 partake the characters of both these classes. And such 
 is found to be the case. The three muscles last enu- 
 merated combine to raise and retract the angle of the 
 mouth, and by doing so, they expose the canine teeth. 
 Now this group of muscles is especially powerful in the 
 carnivorous animal ; they lift the fleshy lips off the long 
 tearing fangs of the lion or tiger, and produce a fierce- 
 ness of expression. But in the milder graminivorous 
 animals the same class of muscles have a different 
 direction given to their action, and they are not capable 
 of elevating the angles of the mouth in a similar manner. 
 In ourselves, when these muscles draw upon the orbicu- 
 laris, and disclose the angular teeth, a painful and 
 bitter expression is the effect. But before we can speak 
 correctly on this subject, we must pursue the description 
 of the remaining muscles. 
 
 Of the muscles which depress the lips, there is, 
 1st. The Triangularis oris, or depressor anguli oris (h), 
 a comparatively powerful muscle, which arises from the 
 
MUSCLES OF THE LIPS AND CHEEKS. 103 
 
 base of the lower jaw, and is inserted into the angle 
 of the mouth. 
 
 In the drawing, some muscular fibres (i) may be seen, 
 which join the triangularis oris, and pass to the angle 
 of the mouth. These are part of a superficial muscle 
 of the neck, — the platysma-myoides : the fibres of which 
 mount over the jaw to terminate on the cheek. The 
 uppermost fasciculus, represented in the drawing, has 
 been described by Santorini as a distinct muscle, and 
 from its action in laughter, has obtained the name 
 Hisorius Santorini. 
 
 The Qttadratus menti (k), a small square muscle, 
 situated on the chin, depresses the lower lip. 
 
 The Levator menti (l) is a small muscle, which arises 
 from the lower jaw, near the sockets of the front teeth, 
 and passes to be inserted into the centre of the integu- 
 ment of the chin. When both muscles act, they throw 
 up the chin, and project the lower lip. 
 
 The angle of the mouth is full of expression ; and 
 much is implied, according to the prevailing action of 
 the superior or inferior class of muscles. The triangu- 
 laris oris and the levator menti combine to produce a 
 kind of expression which is peculiar to man. The 
 angle of the mouth is drawn down by the former, 
 while the lower lip is arched and elevated, with a con- 
 temptuous effect, by the latter; whence the levator 
 menti has sometimes been called superbus. The union 
 of so many muscles at the angle of the lips produces 
 that fulness about the mouth remarkable in those who 
 are both thin and muscular. In the child, or youth, 
 whose face is plump, they make the dimple in the cheek. 
 It is perceived that the orbicularis is the opponent of 
 all the muscles which are concentred from various 
 points to the lips ; and it is by the successive action 
 and relaxation of these antagonising muscles that so 
 much and so varied expression is given to the mouth. 
 
104: MUSCLES OF THE LIPS AND CHEEKS. 
 
 This circular muscle is affected in various emotions ; it 
 tremblingly yields to the superior force of its counter- 
 acting muscles, both in joy and grief: it relaxes 
 pleasantly in smiling ; it is drawn more powerfully by 
 its opponent muscles in weeping. 
 
 We can have no better illustration of how much 
 depends on the function exercised by the mouth, for the 
 particular character impressed on the lower part of 
 the face, when the lips are in motion, than by watch- 
 ing the features of a preacher or advocate engaged in 
 his vocation, and afterwards, if opportunity offers, look- 
 ing at the play of the same jaws and lips, when over 
 a trencher. The whole machinery from the temple down- 
 wards, and from the angle of the jaw to the chin, is in 
 operation during mastication ; whereas, in the most im- 
 passioned discourse, the action is concentrated to the lips. 
 
 In speaking, there is much motion of the lower lip, 
 and, consequently, activity in those muscles which form 
 the fulness of the chin : yet a remarkable variety is 
 produced in the lines which mark the features about 
 the upper lip, by the play of the different muscles which 
 3onverge to the mouth from the margins of the orbits. 
 But this subject has further interest. 
 
 The organization necessary to speech, the great in- 
 strument of human thought, is widely dispersed : that 
 is, for the utterance of sound there must conform, a 
 motion of the lungs or chest, an adjustment of the 
 larynx and pharynx, and a fine modulation of the lips. 
 It is more directly from the motions of the tongue and 
 lips that articulate sounds proceed ; and the connexion 
 of the numerous muscles brought into operation in these 
 actions, is congenital with the awakening intellect. 
 Long before a child is taught to speak, we may see an 
 imperfect agitation of the lips and cheeks ; and sounds 
 are uttered which wait only for the effort of imitation 
 to become- language. 
 
OF THE BEARD. 
 
 105 
 
 These remarks bear out our former statement, that 
 beauty in the lips and lower part of the countenance 
 of a well-formed face, has relation to the perfection 
 of the structure viewed in connexion with speech, and 
 in contrast with the apparatus for mastication. The 
 possession of an instrument of speech is instinctively 
 associated in our thoughts with the most exalted en- 
 dowments of man, moral and intellectual. 
 
 OF THE BEARD. 
 
 " Vidi presso di me un veglio solo, 
 Degna di tanta riverenza in vista, 
 Ciie piu non dee a padre alcun figliolo. 
 Livnga la barba e di pel bianca mista, 
 Portava a' suoi capegli simigliante 
 De' quai cadeva al petto doppia lista." 
 
 Dante. 
 
 The stages of man's life are outwardly characterised. 
 An opinion prevails, that the form and lineaments of 
 old age are a consequence of the deterioration of the 
 material of our frame ; and that the resemblance so 
 often drawn between an aged man leaning on his staff, 
 and a ruin tottering to its fall, is a perfect one. It 
 is not so ; the material of the frame is ever the same : 
 years affect it not ; but infancy, youth, maturity, and 
 old age, have their appropriate outward characters. 
 Why should the forehead be bald, and the beard lux- 
 uriant, if not to mark the latest epoch of man's life ? 
 or what reason can be given for the hair not growing 
 on the chin during the vascular fulness of youth, but 
 that it would be inconsistent with the oharacters oi 
 that time of life to be provided with a beai d ? 
 
 When these Essaj^s were first written, there was not 
 
106 
 
 OF THE BEARD. 
 
 a beard to be seen in England, unless joined with 
 squalor and neglect : and I had the conviction that this 
 appendage concealed the finest features. Being in Borne, 
 however, during the procession of the Corpus Domini, I 
 saw that the expression was not injured by the beard ; 
 but that it added to the dignity and character of years. 
 It was evident that the fine heads by the old masters 
 were copies of what were then seen in nature, though 
 now but rarely. There were beards which nearly 
 equalled that of the " Moses " of Michael Angelo in 
 length, and which flowed like those in the paintings of 
 Domenichino and Correggio.* 
 
 The beard is characteristic of nations. In the East, 
 it is honoured ; and to be shaved, is the mark of a 
 slave.f A beard of three hands' breadth is a goodly 
 show ; but to exceed that, requires a life of repose : 
 violent exercise in the field shortens the beard. The 
 Turks have a very poor beard. The Persians have 
 noble beards, and are proud of the distinction. The 
 beard of Futteh Ali Shah, the late king of Persia, 
 reached below his girdle, was full and fine, and remark- 
 able in a nation of beards, for having no division in 
 the middle. Such a beard, during the active period of 
 life, shews finely on horseback ; being tossed over the 
 shoulders in the wind, and indicating speed. In the 
 natural beard, the hair has a peculiarity depending on 
 the place from which it grows. The hair of the upper 
 
 * u In the procession of the Corpus Domini, the Pope is attended 
 by bishops from all parts of Christendom: from Mount Lebanon 
 and the East, as well as from Roman Catholic Ireland. These dig- 
 nitaries, with the cardinals, the superiors of convents, the friars of 
 various orders, and the cavalcade of the guarda nobile, form a 
 pageant far beyond what royalty can attain, or can anywhere else 
 be witnessed, whether we consider the pL ce and accompaniments, 
 or the actors and their costumes. Then it was, that ag»*, with bald 
 head, and flowing beard, and appropriate robes, surpassed youth and 
 beauty, with all the trappings of the cavalier." — Note from Journal. 
 
 f 2 Samuel x. 4. 
 
OF THE BEARD. 
 
 107 
 
 lip is more profuse, and even in the oldest man is of a 
 darker hue, than that of the under lip ; so that falling 
 on the lower part, it can still be distinguished as it 
 mixes with the purer white. Again, the hair descend- 
 ing from the sides of the face attains a greater length 
 than that which comes from the chin ; and this is more 
 especially the character of age. 
 
 In the French regiments they set frightful fellows, 
 with axes over their shoulders, to march in front : on 
 their heads is a black bear-skin cap, of the form and 
 dimensions of a drum, and they select men with beards 
 of the same hue, which gro w in a bush, the counterpart 
 of that on their heads. But the face, as seen between 
 the two black masses, is more ludicrous than terrible, 
 and has an effect very different from what is in tended. 
 A common fellow's beard, like a common fellow's 
 countenance, is coarse. 
 
 Even in the Franciscan and Capuchin monks, the 
 beard has not always the fine character displayed in the 
 works of the old painters. Their models are gone with 
 their times. Something excessive and ideal may be 
 represented by the beard. Michael Angelo has, perhaps, 
 followed Scripture, in the beard of his " Moses," which 
 floats below the girdle ; and in the fresco of Jeremiah, 
 in the Sistine Chapel. The finest painting of the beard 
 that I have seen, is by Correggio, in the Scala of the 
 Albergo dei Poveri, in Genoa, — a fresco of the Saviour, 
 in the arms of the Almighty, where the beard of the 
 Father flows beautifully. In short, the beard may be- 
 come, with knowledge and taste, the most characteristic 
 part in a figure.* 
 
 * " Our northern artists are unfavourably situated, not owing to 
 the direct influence of cold, as Winckelman imagined, but an indirect 
 cause. In historical painting, they draw from copies of nature, and 
 paint beards as they do the naked figure, without seeing it, or being 
 familiar with the form and colour of the one or the other. But in 
 Rome also they make mistakes. I found the artists supporting a 
 
108 
 
 OF THE BEABD, 
 
 Expression in the Lips and Moustaches. Things 
 familiar do not always give rise to their natural 
 association. I was led to attend more particularly to 
 the moustaches as a feature of expression, in meeting 
 a handsome young French soldier, coming up a long 
 ascent in the Cdte-d'Or, and breathing hard, although 
 with a good-humoured, innocent expression. His 
 sharp-pointed black moustaches rose and fell with a 
 catamountain look that set me to think on the cause. 
 
 Every one must have observed, how the nostrils play 
 in hard breathing.* We have seen that there is a 
 muscle which is the principal agent in this action ; and 
 it may be felt swelling during inspiration, when the 
 finger is pressed on the upper lip, just under the nostril. 
 It is the depressor aloe. nasi. The action of this muscle, 
 under the roots of the hairs on the lip. sensibly moves 
 them ; and as all passionate excitements influence the 
 respiratory actions, the nostrils and moustaches neces- 
 sarily participate in the movement in violent passions. 
 Thus, although the hair of the upper lip does conceal 
 the finer modulations of the mouth, as in woman, 
 it adds to the character of the stronger and harsher 
 emotions. 
 
 I continued to think of this in descending the Khone 
 in company with some French officers ; they were 
 
 fellow, whose beard was their model. The hair of the head, and 
 the beard of this man, had grown to an extraordinary length, show- 
 ing what an uncouth mass it may become. He had been painted 
 so often as the Father of the gods, that in his craze he had believed 
 himself to be no less. I said, if they would plunge him in the 
 Tiber, and study him as he rose, he might pass for a river god. 
 No ; the beard is a mere mass of hair, but admits of much character." 
 — Note from Journal. 
 
 * Physiognomists make a wide nostril the sign of a fiery dis- 
 position. It may be expressive of passion, without being the cause. 
 The idea of its beiug the seat of passion, is undoubtedly taken from 
 animal expression. <; There went a tmoke out of His nostrils," it 
 hardly descriptive of human excitement. 
 
OF THE BEARD. 
 
 109 
 
 merry with wine, and I saw their moustaches, black, 
 red, and white, animated in their songs and laughter ; 
 and although with a farouche character, these appen- 
 dages rather added to, than concealed expression. We 
 see the pictorial effect in the hilarity of the Dutch boor. 
 
 The lower lip moves more than the upper. With 
 this, too, we are so familiar as not to be sensible of 
 it ; but if we try the experiment of looking on the face 
 of a friend, in a reversed position, we shall be convinced 
 that it is so. The expression of speaking results very 
 much from the modulation of the lower lip ; and the 
 rising and falling of the jaw, which takes place at the 
 same time, and more especially in singing, adds to 
 the motion. Passion, however, is expressed more in the 
 upper lip. 
 
 In compassionating a fellow-creature, it is not natural 
 to look on the face reversed. Yet I have seen in a 
 modern picture, a soldier regarding his wounded 
 comrade, dessus dessous, the mouth to the forehead, the 
 eye to the mouth. The immediate effect was a want 
 of sympathy, — of proper feeling. Even the nurse turns 
 her head in correspondence with the face of the infant. 
 Is the same not meant by the Psalmist, " My heart said 
 unto thee, Let my face seek thy face f ,? This was in my 
 mind in looking on a picture of the Saviour, dead, 
 lying on the knees of the Madonna ; she turns her 
 head, bringing her face nearly parallel with that of the 
 Redeemer ; which produces infinite grace and tender- 
 ness.* 
 
 The drawing of the head of a man, thrown to the 
 ground, being to our eye reversed, has not the same 
 effect as when represented upright. Certain features 
 must be exaggerated. That is, if the painter were to 
 draw the face accurately, and then turn the picture 
 the contrary way, the head downwards, it would have 
 
 * In the Gallery of the Accademia delle Belle A rte, Bologna* 
 
110 
 
 OF THE BEARD 
 
 no force. This arises from the reversed features being 
 deficient in the accustomed harmony, and from the 
 altered relation of the upper and lower lips. 
 Michael Angel o, with his other excellencies, was 
 a master of expression. There is a Pieta by him in 
 alto-relievo,* which gives proof of this. The piece of 
 marble does not exceed three feet ; and nothing but 
 expression could have given to it its celebrity. 
 
 I was never more sensible of the action of the lower 4 
 lip, as expressive of speech, than in looking on a picture 
 by that very extraordinary painter, Zurbaran. It re- 
 presents St. Francis. He is kneeling, his hands 
 locked together energetically, his eyes raised, and his 
 lower lip has the expression of moving in prayer.f 
 
 Among the many advantages which the artist has in 
 the southern countries of Europe, the service of the 
 Koman Catholic Church affords him the chief. At all 
 reasons, as well as during the service of the altar, 
 there are in the cathedrals and churches groups and 
 single figures; the lady in rich attire, not more 
 picturesque than the country girl ; the beggar, and the 
 monk, on their knees, muttering their prayers. In the 
 family pew of the Eeformed Church there may be as 
 holy a frame of mind, but never the expression of 
 those rapt and solitary figures, whom we see prostrate 
 on the bare stones in the solemn light of these churches. 
 But my object was to advert to their inaudible inut- 
 terings, in which the amount of expression capable 
 of being thrown into the lips during speech may be 
 
 * In the Albergo dei Poveri, in Genoa. a A Pieta is the repre- 
 sentation of Christ resting on the lap of the mother. The eyes of 
 the mother are shut, the mouth not open, but in the lips a form that 
 implies she is about to kiss the cheek. The angles of the mouth 
 are in the slightest degree depressed, and the lips must open when 
 next she draws breath/' — Note from Journal. 
 
 f The picture is in the Spanish School of the Musoe Koyale of 
 the Louvre. 
 
OF THE BEARD. 
 
 Ill 
 
 well observed. Nor can a stranger go from the church 
 to the picture-galleries, and mistake for a moment 
 where the great painters found their studies, where they 
 gained those conceptions of devotion, of enthusiasm 
 and abandonment, which we see in the portraits of 
 their saints and martyrs.* 
 
 * " St. Siro, Genoa. It is a new thing to see those beggars 
 crawling on the stairs. There is one who, lying on his belly, 
 drags himself along with a short stick ; the precise figure that is 
 in tlie cartoons of Raphael. They are squalid, distorted, and 
 strange. One fellow among them I should have in my sketch-book. 
 He is on his knees, and, whilst receiving a soldo from a very 
 poor and very old woman, counts his beads, and crosses himself 
 with an indifference that hardly can be real. In entering a 
 church in health, and the enjoyment of life, to step through amongst 
 the ' poveri ' is no bad preparation. It is impossible to witness the 
 countryman, whose coarse dress marks the lowness of his condition, 
 — to see him apart, in an obscure aisle, cast down, and in prayer, 
 with such perfect abstraction and abandonment, without the 
 words of the publican being suggested, ' God be merciful to me 
 a sinner.' In this respect, amidst all the blazon and shew of 
 worship which belong to the Roman Catholic, it is still the church 
 of the poor. There is no respect for rank or condition within the 
 precincts of a place of worship.'* — Note from Journal. 
 
( 112 ) 
 
 ESSAY V. 
 
 07 THE EXPRESSION OF PASSION, AS ILLUSTRATED BY A COM- 
 PARISON OF THE MUSCLES OF THE FACE IN MAN AND IN 
 ANIMALS; AND OF THE MUSCLES PECULIAR TO MAN, AND 
 THEIR EFFECTS IN BESTOWING HUMAN EXPRESSION. 
 
 The violent passions are exhibited so distinctly in the 
 countenance of both man and animals, that we are led 
 to consider the movements by which they are made 
 obvious, as characteristic signs provided by nature for 
 the express purpose of intimating the inward emotions : 
 that they may be interpreted by a peculiar and in- 
 tuitive faculty in the observer. 
 
 This view, however, so natural at first, is not alto- 
 gether satisfactory ; and an opposite theory has been 
 proposed, in which such special provision is denied, 
 and the appearances are accounted for, as the effect of 
 certain actions which are performed in obedience to the 
 common laws of the animal economy. It is also said, 
 that we are taught by experience alone to distinguish 
 the signs of the passion in man : that in infancy we 
 learn that smiles are expressive of kindness, because ac- 
 companied by endearments, and that frowns are the 
 reverse, because they are followed by blows. The expres- 
 sion of anger in a brute is alleged to be merely the cast 
 of features which precedes his biting ; and the character 
 of fondness, that which is seen in his fawning and 
 licking of the hand. In short, it has been maintained 
 that what are called the external signs of passion, are only 
 the concomitants of those voluntary movements which 
 the structure renders nocessary. That, for example, the 
 glare of the lion's eye proceeds from his effort to see 
 his prey more clearly ; and his grin or snarl from tha 
 
OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS. US 
 
 natural act of unsheathing his fangs before using 
 them. 
 
 But, if we attend to the evidence of anatomical 
 investigation, we shall perceive a remarkable difference 
 between the provision for giving motion to the features 
 in animals, and that for bestowing expression in man. 
 In the lower creatures, there is no expression, but what 
 may be referred, more or less plainly, to their acts of 
 volition, or necessary instincts ; while in man there 
 6eems to be a special apparatus, for the purpose of 
 enabling him to communicate with his fellow-creatures, 
 by that natural language, which is read in the changes 
 of his countenance. There exist in his face, not only 
 all those parts, which by their action produce expres- 
 sion in the several classes of quadrupeds, but there is 
 added a peculiar set of muscles to which no other office 
 can be assigned than to serve for expression. 
 
 OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS. 
 
 In brutes the most marked expression is that of rage ; 
 the object of which is opposition, resistance, and defence. 
 But on examination it will be found that the force of 
 the expression is in proportion to the strength of the 
 principal action in the creature when thus excited. 
 
 The graminivorous animals, which seek their subsis- 
 tence, not by preying upon others, or by the ferocity, 
 contest, and victory, which supply the carnivorous with 
 food, have in their features no strong expression of rage ; 
 it is chiefly confined to the effect produced on the general 
 system. Thus the inflamed eye and the breathing 
 nostrils of the bull are induced by the excitement of 
 the whole frame ; his only proper expression of rage is 
 in the position of the head, with the horns turned 
 obliquely to the ground, ready to strike ; and indeed it 
 
 I 
 
114 
 
 OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS. 
 
 may be observed, that animals which strike with the 
 horns shew little indication either of fear or rage, except 
 in the position of the head ; for the breath ejected from 
 the expanded nostril is the effect of mere exertion, and 
 may belong to different conditions of the frame. In all 
 graminivorous animals, the skin of the head is closely 
 attached to the skull, and capable of very limited 
 motion : the eye is almost uniformly mild, and the lips 
 are unmoved by passion. 
 
 It is in the carnivorous animals, with whose habits 
 and manner of life ferocity is instinctively connected, 
 as suited to their mode of subsistence, that rage is dis- 
 tinguished by remarkable strength of expression. The 
 eyeball is terrible, and the retraction of the flesh of the 
 lips indicates the most savage fury. The action of the 
 respiratory organs, the heaving and agony of breathing, 
 the deep and harsh motion of the air drawn through 
 the throat in the growl, declare the universal excite- 
 ment of the animal. It is wrong to imagine that all 
 this is a mere preparatory exposure of the canine teeth. 
 Brutes may have expression, properly so called, as well 
 as man, though in a more limited degree ; but in them, 
 expression is so moulded to their natures and their 
 necessities, that it seems accessory to their needful and 
 voluntary actions. 
 
 The horse is universally held to be a noble animal, 
 as he possesses the expression of courage, without the 
 ferociousness of the beast of prey ; and as there is a 
 consent between the motions of the ear and the eye, 
 which resembles the exertion of mind, and the move- 
 ments of the human countenance. But even this ex- 
 pression is the result of an incidental consent of animal 
 motions ; and no more proves intelligence, than the 
 diminutive eye and the unexpressive face of the elephant 
 denote the contrary. We admire it, because there is as 
 much animation as in the tiger, without the ferocity. 
 
OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS. 
 
 115 
 
 The consent of motions between the eye and the ear of 
 the horse is a physical consequence of the necessities of 
 the animal. His defence lies in the hind feet, and there 
 is an arrangement both in the muscles, and in the form 
 of the skull, for that retroverted direction of the eye, 
 which seems so expressive in the horse, but which merely 
 serves to guide the blow. The inflation of the nostrils, 
 and the fleshiness of the lips, belong to the peculiar 
 provision for his respiration and mode of feeding. 
 
 The head of a lion is taken to shew the muscular 
 apparatus of a carnivorous animal. 
 
 a a. The circular fibres, which surround the eyelids, 
 and which are common to all animals. 
 
 bcd. Accessory muscles, which draw back the eyelids 
 from the eyeball, and give a sparkling fierceness to the 
 eye. 
 
 Artists bestow an expression on the eye of the lion 
 which they suppose gives dignity — a kind of knitting 
 of the eyebrows, whilst the eyelids are straining wide. 
 This is quite incompatible with the powers of expression 
 in brutes. When the lion closes his eyes in repose, 
 the fleshiness about the eyelids and the hair of the 
 skin produce the effect of a morose human expression, 
 but when he is excited and the eye is fixed, there is no 
 such character. 
 
 E F. The mass of muscular fibres, with those concealed 
 under them, is very strong in this class of animals. 
 They raise and expose the teeth, with the savage 
 expression peculiar to the carnivora. 
 
 g. The muscles which move the nostril in smelling. 
 
 h. A muscle which answers to the zygomaticus in man 
 and which must have great power in this animal, as it 
 reaches from the ear to the angle of the mouth. It 
 opens the mouth, retracts the lips, and disengages them 
 from the teeth, as in seizing their prey. 
 
 I 2 
 
116 
 
 OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS. 
 
 I. The buccinator muscle. 
 
 k. Insertion of part of the masseter muscle, one of 
 the powerful muscles that close the jaws. 
 
 I observed above, that some painters have thought 
 it allowable to give human expression to the heads 
 of lions, and others have presented it in their heads of 
 horses. I think this is done on a mistaken view, and 
 
 that it will never enhance the peculiar beauty of any 
 animal to engraft upon it some part of human ex- 
 pression. Eubens, in his picture of Daniel in the lions' 
 den, has given this character to the heads of the lions. 
 It is more than doubtful whether it be in the true 
 spirit of that principle of association which should 
 govern the adaptation of expression and character in 
 
Page, 117 
 
 Horses head 
 
 ( Giidio Romano ) 
 
OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS. 
 
 117 
 
 producing an ideal form, thus to mingle human ex- 
 pression with the features of the savage animals. It 
 seeing however, that a distinction is to be made when 
 the lion is represented in its natural state and when 
 sculptured emblematically. Eepresented in his den, or 
 in the forest, the picture should possess all the natural 
 character ; when couched amidst the insignia of empire, 
 there may be a difference. 
 
 A horse's head is added in illustration ; it is taken 
 from Giulio Eomano. The painter has here produced 
 an ideal head : we say that it is a horse rather on 
 account of the bridle in the mouth than because we 
 recognise the natural character of that animal. Instead 
 of the full clear eye standing prominent upon the 
 temple, there is an eye sunk deep, with an overhanging 
 eyebrow; the character entirely human, and the ex- 
 pression thoughtful and suspicious. In the hair of the 
 forehead, and in the ears, in the roundness of the head 
 and neck, the artist has preferred the model of the 
 antique to what, in this instance, we must consider to 
 be the finer forms of nature. Here are the nostrils of 
 the horse, but they want expansion ; and there are 
 thick and fleshy lips, with an open mouth, which no 
 power of association can ever teach us to admire. 
 
 There is a spirit in the expanded nostril, a fire in 
 the eye, a kind of intelligence in the horse's head taken 
 altogether ; there is a beauty in the form of the neck, 
 and an ease and grandeur in the carriage of the head, 
 where strength and freedom are combined, which can- 
 not be excelled by the substitution of an ideal form. 
 No doubt the painter in this instance wished to avoid 
 that commonness of form, which represses sentiment 
 in the beholder, and destroys the poetical effect of a 
 picture; but it is attempted at the expense of truth 
 of character. In the utmost excitement, animals of 
 this class do not open the mouth; they cannot 
 
118 OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS. 
 
 breathe through the mouth, — a valve in the throat 
 prevents it, — so that animation is exhibited only in the 
 nostril and the eye. The open month is from the 
 checking of the bit between the teeth, and is never 
 seen when the horse is untrammelled and free. 
 
 Such were the the opinions delivered in the first 
 edition of this work, and they were drawn from obser- 
 vation of nature, on which I always rest with absolute 
 reliance. Since that time, the Elgin collection of sculp- 
 tures has arrived. These remains of antiquity are of 
 great value to the arts of this country, as they ob- 
 viously tend to turn the artist's attention to nature, 
 and exhibit to him the consistency of natural form 
 and beauty. The horses' heads in that collection are 
 perfectly natural, and if there be exaggeration, it is 
 only in the stronger marking of that which is the 
 characteristic distinction of the animal. 
 
 The next drawing represents the muscles of the 
 horse's head. 
 
 a a. The orbicular muscle of the eyelids. 
 
 b. An accessory muscle to raise the eyelid. 
 
 c. A very peculiar muscle. It pulls down the eyelid. 
 
 d. A muscle connected also with the eye and arising 
 from the cartilages of the ear. 
 
 e. A muscle answering to the zygomatic muscle in man. 
 These muscles, surrounding the eyelids of the horse, 
 
 account for the superior expression of the eye. The 
 muscle d seems calculated to operate upon the outer 
 angle of the eyelids, and to enable the animal to direct 
 the eye backwards ; in this it is probably assisted by 
 the muscle e. 
 
 f. This forms a class of muscles which descend on 
 the side of the face, and are inserted into the nostril. 
 
 gg. Muscular fibres, also operating in the distension 
 cf the tube of the nostril. 
 
Horse's head 
 
 ( Muscles ) 
 
OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS. 
 
 119 
 
 H. A strong muscle, which acts upon the cartilage 
 |nd distends the nostril with great power. 
 
 There is something in the distribution of these 
 muscles which illustrates the character of the class, 
 and accounts for the peculiarity of expression. We 
 cannot fail to observe the difference in the general 
 direction and classing of the muscles of the face in the 
 horse and in the lion. In the carnivorous animal, 
 they all tend to lift the lips from the canine teeth, 
 so that they cannot act without shewing the teeth, 
 with a snarling expression ; in the graminivorous 
 animal, on the contrary, muscles, having the same 
 place and origin, pass to the cartilages of the nose and 
 inflate it the instant they are excited. It is these 
 muscles, therefore, more than any thing else, which 
 produce the very different character and expression in 
 the two classes of animals. 
 
 i I. A strong muscle, which lies under that of the 
 nostril f. Its tendon passes forward over the nose, 
 and unites with its fellow of the other side. These 
 together form a broad tendon k, which is inserted 
 into the upper lip. There is a similar muscle moving 
 the lower lip, which cannot be seen in this view. 
 
 L m. The circular fibres of the lips, which in the 
 horse are particularly strong and fleshy. 
 
 n. A web of muscle, which is extended from the 
 cutaneous muscle of the neck. 
 
 The last-named muscles have all great power, and give 
 extensive motion to the lips. They take a course over the 
 nose in a manner quite peculiar to this class of animals, 
 to raise and project the upper lip, as in gathering food. 
 Any one who feeds his horse from his hand may feel 
 the singular sensitiveness and mobility of his lips. 
 
 Looking to these muscles, and contrasting them with 
 the animated sketch by Mr. Northoote, we cannot fail 
 to see how much the form of the head depends upon the 
 
120 
 
 OF THE MTSCLES OF ANIMALS. 
 
 teeth being small in front, and large and deep-set at 
 the back part of the jaw ; how much the peculiarity of 
 expression in the animal is owing to its breathing 
 through the nostril, and not through the mouth, and to 
 its brilliant eye being placed on the utmost projection 
 of the head, so that, by the slightest turn of the pliant 
 neck, it may be directed backward. Finally, we perceive 
 how the muscles are adapted to draw back the eyelids, 
 to expand the nostrils, and project the lips from the 
 incisor teeth, and also to place the food under the opera- 
 tion of the grinding teeth. 
 
 OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS COMPARED WITH THOSE 
 OF MAN. 
 
 Eeferring to the remarkable difference between the 
 range of expression in man and in animals, and con- 
 sidering that in brutes it proceeds from necessity or 
 voluntary action, while in man there is a special provi- 
 sion for bestowing it, — a peculiar set of muscles to 
 which no other office can be assigned, it is proper to 
 reduce the muscles of several quadrupeds into classes, 
 that we may distinguish the characteristics of mere 
 animal expression from those in man. 
 
 They may be distinguished as, 1st. Those which raise 
 the lips from the teeth ; 2d. Those which surround the 
 eyelids ; and 3d. Those which move the nostrils. 
 
 1. The first of these classes, viz. the muscles which raise 
 the lips from the teeth, admit of a subdivision. In the 
 carnivorous animals the muscles of the lips are so 
 directed as to raise the lip from the canine teeth. In 
 tlie graminivorous they are directed so as to raise the 
 lips from the incisor teeth. The former I would dis- 
 tinguish by the name ringentes, snarling muscles : the 
 latter by the name depascentes, muscles simply for feeding. 
 
Page 120 
 
 HORSE'S HEAD 
 
 ( Jsforthcote ) 
 
OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS. 121 
 
 The snarling muscles arise from the margin of the 
 orbit, and from the upper jaw ; they are inserted into 
 that part of the upper lip from which the moustaches 
 grow, and which is opposite to the canine teeth. Their 
 sole office is to raise the upper lip from the canine teeth ; 
 and although they are assisted in this by others (the 
 masticating muscles), I have ventured to distinguish 
 them particularly as the muscles of snarling. This 
 action of snarling is quite peculiar to the ferocious and 
 carnivorous animals. The graminivorous are incapable 
 of it, and consequently these muscles are to be found 
 largely developed only in the former class, not in the 
 latter. In the carnivorous animals it can scarcely be 
 said that there is a perfect or regular orbicular muscle, 
 as in man, for contracting the lips ; the lips hang loose 
 and relaxed, unless when drawn aside by the snarling 
 muscles, and they fall back into this state of relaxation, 
 with the remission of the action of these muscles. 
 
 The chief muscles of the lips, which in carnivorous 
 animals are directed to the side of the mouth, are, 
 in graminivorous animals, directed to the middle of 
 the lip over the front teeth. I call them depascentes, 
 from their use, which is to enable the creature to open 
 its lips so as to gather food, and to bite the grass. They 
 are long muscles ; one set come down upon each side of 
 the face, and joining in a broad tendon, pass over the 
 nose to be inserted into the upper lip. Another set 
 run along the lower jaw, to be inserted by a peculiar 
 feathered tendon into the under lip. These muscles 
 are very strong in the horse. They give a peculiar and 
 characteristic expression to the stallion, when he snuffs 
 the breeze, with his head high in air ; when he bites, the 
 expression is entirely different from that of the carniv- 
 orous animal ; instead of exposing the teeth correspond- 
 ing with the canine, he lifts the lips from the fore 
 teeth, and protrudes them. The carnivorous animals 
 
122 OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS. 
 
 have not these muscles of the fore part of the lip ; in 
 them, the lips covering the incisor teeth are not fleshy 
 like those of the graminivorous animals, but are tied 
 down to the gums, and the fore teeth are exposed only 
 in consequence of the straining occasioned by retraction 
 of the side of the mouth. 
 
 Although the graminivorous animals do not possess 
 those muscles which so powerfully retract the lips in 
 the carnivorous class, they have a more perfect orbicular 
 muscle surrounding the mouth, and regulating the 
 motion of their fleshy lips. 
 
 5. Muscles which surround the eyelid. — In man, the 
 upper eyelid is raised by a muscle coming from the 
 back of the orbit. But animals of prey, in whose 
 eyes there is the peculiar and ferocious splendour, which 
 distinguishes the tiger or the lion, have, in addition to 
 this muscle, three others attached to the eyelids, which, 
 stretching the coats and drawing the eyelids backward 
 upon the prominent eyeball, produce a fixed straining 
 of the eye, and a greater brightness. These muscles I 
 have termed scintillantes, because by retracting the 
 eyelids, they expose the brilliant white of the eye, 
 which reflects a sparkling light. In the sheep, besides 
 the proper muscle coming from the bottom of the orbit, 
 there is only a web of fibres to assist in raising the 
 eyelid. In the horse, there is a muscle to pull down 
 the lower eyelid ; and another, which, passing from the 
 ear to the outer angle of the eyelid, retracts it, and 
 enables the animal to direct the pupil backward, where 
 his defence lies. In the feline tribe light is reflected 
 from the bottom of the eye, when the pupil is dilated ; 
 and as the pupil dilates in obscure light, there is a 
 brilliant reflection from the cat's eye, which we 
 mistake for indication of passion. All these may be 
 partially displayed in the human eye, as in the blood- 
 shot redness combined with the circle of reflected light 
 
OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS. 
 
 123 
 
 from the margin of the corner, like a flame or angry 
 spark, as Charon is described "by Dante, — 
 
 " Ch' intomo agli occhi avea di fiamme mote," 
 
 or as lighted charcoal, from the bottom of the eye, — 
 
 " Caron demonio con occhi di bragia." 
 
 It is in this way that a touch of true expression will 
 illustrate a whole passage ; so Milton, 
 
 u With head uplift above the wave, and eyes 
 That sparkling blazed."* 
 
 3. Muscles of the Nostrils. — These are not less distinct 
 and peculiar, in different classes of animals, than the 
 muscles of the eye and lips. In the carnivorous animals, 
 the nose is comparatively insignificant, provision being 
 made in the open mouth for any occasional increase 
 of respiration above the uniform play of the lungs ; 
 while in the inoffensive animals, which are the prey of 
 the more ferocious, the inflation of the nostril is provided 
 for by the action of another set of muscles. 
 
 For example, in the horse, " the glory of whose nostrils 
 is terrible," the muscles which inflate the nostril are 
 very peculiar. They arise like the ringentes ; but instead 
 of being fixed into the lips, as in carnivorous animals, 
 whose lips are to be raised from the canine teeth, they 
 pass to the nostrils, and in combination with some lesser 
 muscles, powerfully inflate them when the animal is 
 pushed to his speed, excited by fear, or inflamed to rage. 
 
 In the gallery of Florence, there is the head of a horse 
 in bronze, and antique ; it is very fine, and in all respects 
 as natural as those of the Elgin Marbles; the mouth 
 is open, but there is a bit in it. 
 
 Over the fountain, in the Piazza of the Grand Duke, 
 is placed a group of Neptune, drawn by four horses; 
 
 * So also Spenser, B. vi. cant. 7, stanza 42. 
 
124 
 
 OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS. 
 
 the mouths of all the horses are open, and as they are 
 free agents, without bit or harness, they seem to be 
 of one mind, and to be expressing the same thing, what- 
 ever that may be. They would have been much finer, 
 had the artist given them animation through the eye 
 and nostril, without opening the mouth.* 
 
 The horse's mouth is never seen open when the animal 
 is free. Nothing can be finer than the action of a charger 
 in the field : but though he should snort and neigh and 
 throw up his head and mane, with all his excitement 
 he does not open his mouth. In the antiquities of 
 Count Caylus, the horse's head is represented naturally. 
 
 We may notice here, that most of the carnivorous 
 animals hunt their prey. For this object, they not 
 only require a peculiar and extended organ of smelling, 
 but the air must be drawn forcibly over the surface on 
 which the olfactory nerve is spread. It appears to 
 me that this accounts for their small confined nostril, and 
 their breathing freely through the mouth. In smelling, 
 an action of the nostrils takes place which directs the 
 stream of air upwards into the cells of the nose, where 
 the olfactory nerve is distributed. This is especially 
 the case in the conformation of the dog's nostrils. 
 
 Eeturning now to the muscles in the human counte- 
 nance, we perceive that, although the motions of the 
 lips and nostrils in man may not be so extensive as in 
 other classes of animals, there is in his face a capacity for 
 all the varieties of expression which distinguish these 
 creatures. He stands, as we have said, between the 
 carnivorous and graminivorous animals ; or, rather, he 
 partakes the nature of both. He has the snarling 
 muscles which so peculiarly distinguish the carnivorous 
 class, while he is able to protrude the lips, and uncover 
 
 * " Milan. The four horses in the triumphal arch have their 
 mouths gaping wide ; not so the coursers last night in the Circus " 
 — Note from Journal. 
 
OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS. 
 
 125 
 
 the teeth, like the graminivorous. We have seen that 
 in the carnivorous animals, the muscles descending from 
 the cheek-bones and upper jaw to raise the lip are strong, 
 and that the orbicular or circular fibres of the mouth 
 are feeble, the lip being attached to the forepart of the 
 gums. In the graminivorous animals, on the contrary, 
 the orbicular muscle has great power ; while the elevat- 
 ing and depressing muscles of the side of the mouth are 
 weak. But in man, both classes of muscles are combined ; 
 the elevating and depressing muscles are fully developed, 
 while the orbicular muscle completely antagonises them, 
 modulating and qualifying their actions, and bestowing 
 the utmost perfection on the motions of the lips. 
 
 Whether we look to the form of the features or to 
 their power of expression, the consideration of these two 
 classes of muscles alone will account for certain varieties 
 in the human face. In one man, the excitement of 
 passion may be indicated chiefly by the prevalence of 
 one class, while in a second, another class will pre- 
 dominate in the expression. 
 
 If it be allowable to give examples, I would say that 
 in the countenance of Mrs. Siddons, or Mr. John 
 Kemble, there was presented the highest character of 
 beauty which belongs to the true English face. In that 
 family the upper lip and nostrils were very expressive : 
 the class of muscles which operate on the nostrils was 
 especially powerful, and both these great tragedians had 
 a remarkable capacity for the expression of the nobler 
 passions. In their cast of features there was never seen 
 that blood-thirsty look which Cooke could throw into 
 his face. In him, the ringentes prevailed : and what 
 determined hate could he express, when, combined with 
 the oblique cast of his eyas, he drew up the outer part 
 of the upper lip, and disclosed a sharp angular tooth ! 
 And is it not this lateral drawing of the lips, and 
 Stretching them upon the closed teeth, which make 
 
126 
 
 OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS. 
 
 the blood start from them, in remorseless hate and 
 rancour ? 
 
 But besides the muscles analogous to those of brutes, 
 others are introduced into the human face, which indi- 
 cate emotions and sympathies of which the lower animals 
 are not susceptible ; and as they are peculiar to man, 
 they may be considered as the index of mental energy, 
 in opposition to mere animal expression. 
 
 The most moveable and expressive features are the 
 inner extremity of the eyebrow and the angle of the 
 mouth ; and these are precisely the parts which have 
 least expression in brutes ; for they have no eyebrows, 
 and no power of elevating or depressing the angle of the 
 mouth. It is therefore in these features that we should 
 expect to find the muscles of expression peculiar to man. 
 
 The most remarkable muscle of the human face is 
 the corrugator supercilii (d, fig. p. 92), arising from the 
 frontal bone, near its union with the nasal bones, and 
 inserted into the skin of the eyebrow ; it knits the eye- 
 brows with an energetic effect, which unaccountably, 
 but irresistibly, conveys the idea of mind. 
 
 The frontal portion of the occipito-fron talis muscle (a, 
 fig. p. 92), is the antagonist of the orbicular muscle of the 
 eyelids. It is wanting in the animals which we have 
 examined ; and in its stead, fibres, more or less strong, 
 are found to be inserted directly into the eyelids. 
 
 The motion of the features which, next to that pro- 
 duced by the corrugator supercilii, is most expressive of 
 human passion and sentiment, is to be seen in the angle 
 of the mouth. At one time I conceived that this dis- 
 tinctive expression was chiefly owing to the superbus 
 (l, fig. p. 101), which elevates and protrudes the under 
 lip, but I was deceived. The character of human ex- 
 pression in the mouth is given by the triangularis oris, 
 or depressor anguli oris (h, fig. p. 101), a muscle which 
 J have not found in any of the lower animals; I 
 
Or THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS. 127 
 
 believe it to be peculiar to man, and I can assign no 
 other use for it than that which belongs to expression. 
 It arises from the base of the lower jaw, and passes up to 
 be inserted, with the converging fibres of almost all 
 the muscles of the side of the face, into the corner of the 
 mouth : it produces that arching of the lip so expressive 
 of contempt, hatred, jealousy ; and in combination with 
 the elevator of the under lip, or superbus, and the 
 orbicularis, it has a larger share than any other muscle 
 in producing the infinite variety of motions in the 
 mouth, expressive of sentiment. 
 
 When we compare the muscles of the human head with 
 those of animals, we perceive many smaller distinctions, 
 which 1 shall not at present discuss. The depressor alee 
 nasi (d, fig. p. 99), the nasalis labii superioris (b, fig. p. 101), 
 the anterior fibres of the occipito frontalis (a, fig. p. 92), 
 are not found in the brute ; and in general, the more 
 minute and fasciculated structure of all the muscles of 
 the lips, in the face of man, shows a decided superiority 
 in the provision for motion of the features. 
 
 We have already observed, that the faces of animals 
 seem chiefly capable of expressing rage and fear; even 
 pain is indicated more in the voice, and in writhing 
 and struggling. 
 
 The rage of the graminivorous animal is chiefly visible 
 in the eye, in the inflation of the nostril, and in the 
 disturbed state of the body. It is expressed most 
 strongly by the carnivorous animals : in them it is 
 wild, ferocious, and terrifying. Their expression of 
 rage, so far as it appears in the face, is shewn by the 
 strong action of the ringentes, or snarling muscles, the 
 exposure of the canine teeth, the gnashing of the tusks, 
 and the brilliant excitement of the eye. The expression 
 of human rage partakes of both ; the corresponding 
 muscles of the lips and nostrils producing a similar 
 action to that in animals; an exposure and clenching 
 
128 
 
 OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS. 
 
 of the teeth ; a degree of sparkling of the eye, and an 
 inflation of the nostril. Of a face under the influence 
 of such actions, a spectator would infallibly say, that 
 the aspect was brutal, savage, and cruel. But when 
 the corrugator supercilii, a muscle peculiar to human 
 expression, is brought into action, the sign is altered. 
 The eyebrows are knit, the energy of mind is apparent, 
 and there is the mingling of thought and emotion with 
 the savage and brutal rage of the mere animal. 
 
 In man, the actions of the frontal muscle of the 
 corrugator supercilii, and of the orbicular muscle of 
 the mouth, give much expression. If instead of the 
 retraction of the lips and the exposure of the teeth, as 
 in the rage or pain of animals, the mouth is half 
 closed, the lips inflected by the circular fibres, and 
 drawn down by the action of the peculiarly human 
 muscle, the depressor anguli oris, then there is ex* 
 pressed more agony of mind than of mere bodily suffer- 
 ing, by a combination of muscular actions of which 
 animals are incapable. 
 
 The action of the orbicular muscle of the lips is, indeed, 
 the most characteristic of agony of mind, and of all those 
 passions which partake of sentiment; in grief, in vexation 
 of spirit, in weeping, it modifies the effect of the muscles 
 of animal expression, and produces human character. 
 
 Fear is characterised in animals by a mingling of 
 anger, and of preparation for defence, with a shrinking 
 of alarm in the more ferocious, and a straining of the 
 eye and inflation of the nostril, with trembling, in the 
 milder. In human fear and suspicion, the nostril is 
 inflated, and the eye has that backward, jealous, and 
 timid character which we see in the horse, and in the 
 gentler classes of animals. 
 
 The orbicular muscle of the lips, with the system of 
 elevating and depressing muscles in man, lead to ex- 
 pressions peculiarly human. And here I may observe, 
 
OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS. 
 
 129 
 
 that expression is not always tne effect of a contraction 
 of the muscles of the face, either general or partial. It 
 proceeds rather from a combined action of the muscles 
 when under passion ; for it is often the relaxation of a 
 certain class, more than their excitement, which gives 
 expression ; and of this, smiling and laughter furnish 
 the most apposite examples. 
 
 The capacity of receiving ludicrous ideas is as com- 
 pletely denied to animals as they are utterly incapable 
 »f the accompanying action of laughter. Dogs, in 
 _heir expression of fondness, have a slight eversion of 
 the lips, and grin and snuff amidst their frolic and 
 g iinbols, in a way that resembles laughter ; but in all 
 this there is nothing which truly approaches to human 
 expression. That is produced by the relaxation of the 
 orbicular muscle of the lips, and the consequent prepon- 
 derating action of the elevating muscles ; and, of course, 
 it can exist only in a face which possesses both the orbi- 
 cular and the straight muscles of the lips in perfection. 
 
 In the emotions of contempt, pride, suspicion, and 
 jealousy, the orbicular muscle and the triangularis oris, 
 produce by their combination the arching of the lips, 
 and the depression of the angle of the mouth. The 
 horizontal drawing of the lips, which just discloses the 
 teeth, and betrays the severe or bitter and malignant 
 passions, is owing to a more general action of the 
 muscles overcoming the opposition of the orbicularis. 
 
 In grief, the muscles of the eyebrow and those of the 
 lips are combined in expression ; hence the union of 
 that upward direction of the extremity of the eyebrow 
 characterising peevishness, discontent, and sinking of 
 the spirits, with the depression of the angle of the 
 mouth, which so distinctly indicates the harassed and 
 subdued state of mind. 
 
 By the combination of those muscles of expression 
 much of that various play of the features expressive 
 
 K 
 
130 
 
 OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS. 
 
 of human passions, as joy, hope, admiration, anxiety, 
 fear, horror, despair, is produced ; and thus, while the 
 human countenance is capable of expressing both the 
 rage of the more ferocious animals, and the timidity 
 of the milder, it possesses, by the consentaneous action 
 of a few super-added muscles, powers of expression 
 varying almost to infinity. 
 
 It is curious to observe how the muscles thus afford 
 a new occasion of distinguishing the classes of animals ; 
 and how, as signs of superior intelligence, they give 
 proofs of the endowments of man, and the excellence 
 of his nature. The full clear eye ; the arched and 
 moveable eyebrow ; the smooth and polished forehead ; 
 as indicating susceptibility of emotion, and power of 
 expression, are grand features of human character and 
 beauty ; and it is the perfection of beauty when the 
 spectator is made sensible of this inherent, this latent 
 power, even while no prevailing passion affects the 
 features. But a great portion of the beauty of the 
 human face is in the nose and the mouth ; in a nostril 
 which has a capacity for expression, without being too 
 membranous and inflatable, for that produces a mean 
 and imbecile kind of fierceness ; and in lips, at once 
 full and capable of those various modulations of form 
 which are necessary to speech and the indication of 
 human feeling. 
 
( 131 > 
 
 ESSAY VI. 
 
 " Grief laments the absence, and fear apprehends the loss of 
 what we love ; desire pursues it ; hope has it in view ; and joy 
 triumphs in possession." * 
 
 OF EXPRESSION (CONTINUED). 
 
 We advance to the interesting subject of variable 
 expression in the human face. It is by the habit of 
 expression that the countenance is improved or de- 
 graded, and that the characters of virtue or vice are 
 imprinted. If hardship, misfortune, care, and, still 
 more, vice, are there habitually impressed, then all 
 that we admire is lost. 
 
 Peace, comfort, society, and agreeable studies, pre 
 serve the features mobile, and ready to conform, as an 
 index of the mind, to the sentiments we love. Petrarch, 
 Boccaccio, and Dante, dwell on the expression of th^ir 
 mistresses.")* Addison has justly said, " No woman can 
 be handsome by the force of features alone, any more 
 than she can be witty only by the help of speech." 
 
 The form of the face and the features are but the 
 groundwork of expression. The influence of passion 
 
 * Heylin, vol. i. p. 5. 
 
 f " Poi guardo Vamorosa e bella bocca — 
 La spaziosa fronte, e il vago piglio 
 Li bianehi denti, e il dritto naso, e il ciglio 
 Polito e brun tal che depinto pare."— Dante. 
 
 "Soave va a guisa di un bel pavune." 
 
 Decamerone Giornata, nr. 
 
 K 2 
 
132 
 
 OF EXPRESSION. 
 
 on the body is a subject which has bee a discussed from 
 the first dawnings of philosophy. The Greeks did not 
 confine their study to the outward form of man ; they 
 also speculated on the habit of the body as affecting the 
 mind : and we insensibly use their language, although 
 the course of their ideas may be rejected or forgotten. 
 There are varieties in the forms, strength, temper, and 
 capacities of man. It has been well said that you 
 cannot tread on a man's toe without learning something 
 of his temper. One man will have his joke, although 
 it may hurt his dearest friend, and another has so little 
 imagination, that even in the delirium of fever he is dull. 
 Some are generous to profligacy, or frugal to meanness, 
 or gallant and true, or cowardly and insincere : these 
 varieties are a part of human nature, and necessary to 
 the constitution of society. But the ingenious reason ers 
 (if Ancient Greece ascribed the diversity of disposition 
 to the texture of the frame ; not to the features, nor to 
 the proportions or shape of the skull, but rather to 
 the mixture of the elements of the body; and more 
 to the fluids than to the solids. Those distinctions, 
 familiar to all, have in every succeeding age been at- 
 tributed to the humours. When we speak of the con 
 stitution, the temper, the humour of a man, we are in 
 truth adopting the language of Hippocrates, who treated 
 of the four radical humours, — the sanguineous, phleg- 
 matic, choleric, and melancholic. 
 
 Other philosophers have imagined that the disposi- 
 tions of man might have their source in his greater or 
 le^s resemblance to the brutes. It was then allowable 
 to fancy that a lion-like frame, strong hair, deep voice, 
 and powerful limbs, were combined with courage. But 
 our heroes are not of that mould. To be collected 
 amidst fire and smoke, and the deafening sounds of 
 battle — to marshal thousands — or to direct the vessel's 
 course, whilst exposed not only to wounds but to death, 
 
OF EXPRESSION. 
 
 133 
 
 is true courage ; and in these days, it is witnessed in 
 the pale and fragile, more than in the strung and 
 sanguineous, or the bulky and hairy savage. We can 
 better estimate true coui age since combatants have been 
 divested of the helmet and mail.* 
 
 That the features indicate the disposition by resem- 
 bling those of animals, is an unjust and dangerous theory. 
 The comparison which we have made of the human 
 form and features with those of certain classes of 
 animals, is wry different from those speculations which 
 would lead us to condemn a man because of some re- 
 semblance in face to a brute, f 
 
 Notwithstanding the attraction of the engravings in 
 Lavater's work, the study of physiognomy is now 
 abandoned for that of the cranium. But I must repeat, 
 that the brain and the skull are constructed in strict 
 relation, — a perfect brain and a perfect skull are formed 
 together. And what is the perfection of the skull ? 
 The cranium is as a helmet, constituted for the pro- 
 tection of the brain ; and if so, must it not be adapted 
 to the forces it has to sustain or resist ? The skull is 
 most perfect when its forms indicate the best possible 
 provision for its peculiar use, the defence of the brain. 
 
 Let us attend more especially to the human passions. 
 
 * Sir G. N., in the assault of , killed his opponent. " Tho 
 
 soldier thrust at me with his bayonet. I parried, and passed my 
 sword through his body. In withdrawing it, I experienced a sen- 
 sation which will only leave me with life." A kindred spirit 
 expresses himself well. 44 The modern soldier is not the stern, 
 bloody-handed man the ancient soldier was ;" the ancient warrior, 
 fighting with the sword, and reaping the harvest of death when 
 the enemy was in flight, became habituated to the art of slaying. 
 '* The modern soldier sees not his peculiar victims fall, and exults 
 not over them as proof of personal prowess." Homer represents 
 Achilles as driving over the dead, till his chariot-wheels are dyed 
 in blood. 
 
 t This was the theory of Giambatista Porta, in his " Humana 
 Physiognomia." He was equally successful in detecting the 
 qualities of plants by their resemblance to animals. 
 
134 
 
 LAUGHTER. 
 
 J do not mean to treat of all those conditions of mind 
 which are considered under the head of the passions, 
 sentiments, or emotions ; but to limit my inquiry to 
 that kind or degree of mental excitement, which draws 
 the frame into action, and which is interpreted by its 
 agitation ; when the spirits, by their vehemence, produce 
 uncontrollable movements of the body, not determined 
 by the will, but spontaneously arising with the state of 
 feeling, which they strengthen and direct.* 
 
 We shall begin, by marking the most extreme expres- 
 sion of the passions, — laughter and weeping. They suit 
 our purpose as being peculiarly human, arising fro^ 
 sentiments not participated by the brutes. 
 
 It is vain to inquire into the sources of these emo- 
 tions; but I hope my reader consents to believe that 
 the capacity of expression is bestowed as a boon, a 
 mark of superior intelligence, and a source of enjoy- 
 ment ; and that its very nature is to excite sympathy ; 
 that it radiates, and is understood by all ; that it is 
 the bond of the human family. 
 
 LAUGHTER. 
 
 We have seen that the muscles which operate upon 
 the mouth are distinguishable into two classes, — those 
 which surround and control the lips, and those which 
 oppose them, and draw the mouth widely open. The 
 effect of a ludicrous idea is to relax the former, and tc 
 contract the latter ; hence, by a lateral stretching oi 
 the mouth, and a raising of the cheek to the lower 
 
 * Were we not to limit our inquiry to the agitations of the body 
 ,ve should be embarrassed with the ambiguity of such words aa 
 passion, emotion, desire, inclination, appetite, the generous passions, 
 the passion of pride or of avarice : even the mere state of suffering 
 i& called passion. 
 
Page, 134 
 
 Laughter 
 
LAUGHTER. 
 
 135 
 
 eyelid, a smile is produced. The lips are, of all the 
 features, the most susceptible of action, and the most 
 direct index of the feelings. 
 
 If the idea be exceedingly ridiculous, It is in vain 
 that we endeavour to restrain this relaxation, and to 
 compress the lips. The muscles concentring to the 
 mouth prevail ; they become more and more influenced ; 
 the} 7 retract the lips, and display the teeth. The 
 cheeks are more powerfully drawn up, the eyelids 
 wrinkled, and the eye almost concealed. The lachrymal 
 gland within the orbit is compressed by the pressure 
 on the eyeball, and the eye suffused with tears. 
 
 Simple and passive pleasures, the delight of meeting 
 or the contemplation of innocence, relax the lips and 
 dimple the cheek, whilst the eyes are bright and in- 
 telligent. The dimple is formed by the muscles which 
 are inserted in the angle of the mouth acting on the 
 plump integument of infancy and youth. 
 
 Observe the condition of a man convulsed with 
 laughter, and consider what are the organs or system 
 of parts affected. He draws a full breath, and throws 
 i j out in interrupted, short, and audible cachinnations ; 
 the muscles of his throat, neck, and chest, are agitated ; 
 the diaphragm is especially convulsed. He holds his 
 sides, and, from the violent agitation, he is incapable of 
 a voluntary act. 
 
 It is impossible to avoid the conclusion, that it is 
 the respiratory organs and their muscles which are 
 affected during the paroxysm of laughter. Physiologists, 
 in all former times, attributed the line of sympathetic 
 relations which draw these remote parts into action, 
 to a nerve called the sympathetic. But I have proved, 
 that there is a machinery altogether distinct ; and that 
 the expression, not only of this, but of all the other 
 passions, arises from that system of nerves, which, from 
 their great office, I have called respiratory. 
 
136 
 
 WLjrfPING. 
 
 The respiratory nerves spring from a common centra 
 in the medulla oblongata,* and pass off divergingly to 
 all the parts just enumerated, and to every organ 
 employed in respiration. They combine these distant 
 parts in the ordinary action of breathing ; and they 
 are the agents in all the effects of passion, when 
 these organs give the outward signs of the condition 
 of the mind. 
 
 WEKriNG.f 
 
 Weeping is another state of the features, proceeding, 
 as we have before observed, from sensibility ; and, 
 therefore, human. Though the organs affected are the 
 same as in laughter, viz., the respiratory muscles, the 
 Bxpression is as much opposed as the nature of the 
 emotion which produces it. Were the condition of the 
 features the effect of mere excitement, why should there 
 be an association of the same class of muscles, so 
 different from that in laughter? Is not this variety 
 of expression a proof of design, and that all our 
 emotions are intended to have their appropriate out- 
 ward characters? 
 
 According to Homer, the expression of weeping is 
 not confined to babes; Ulysses is made to feel that 
 sensation in his nose which precedes the shedding of 
 tears. 
 
 The lachrymal glands are the first to be affected ; then 
 the eyelids ; and finally, the whole converging muscles 
 of the cheeks. The lips are drawn aside, not from 
 
 The medulla oblongata is that part of the nervous system 
 which is traced from the brain into the tube of the spine; it is, 
 consequently, the upper part of the spinal marrow. 
 
 t I have thrown the expression of weeping, from pain, into the 
 face ot a Faun : for such expression is inexpressibly mean and 
 ludicrous in the countenance of a man. 
 
Page 136 
 
 "WEEPING 
 
WEEPING. 
 
 137 
 
 their circular fibres relaxing, as in laughter, but from 
 their being forcibly retracted by the superior influence 
 of their antagonist muscles. Instead of the joyous 
 elevation of the cheeks, the muscle which pulls down 
 the angle of the mouth, triangularis oris, is more under 
 influence, and the angle is depressed. The cheeks are 
 thus drawn between two adverse powers : the muscles 
 which surround the eyelids, and that which depresses 
 the lower lip. 
 
 The same cause which drew the diaphragm and 
 muscles of the chest into action in laughing is perceived 
 here. The diaphragm is spasmodically and irregularly 
 affected ; the chest and throat are influenced ; the 
 breathing is cut by sobbing; the inspiration is hurried, 
 and the expiration is slow with a melancholy note. In 
 the violence of weeping, accompanied with lamentation, 
 the face is flushed, or rather suffused by stagnant blood, 
 and the veins of the forehead distended. In this we 
 see the effect of the impeded action of the chest ; a 
 proof, not only that it is the respiratory system of 
 nerves which is affected, but also of the condition of 
 the heart, and its influence in respiration, of which 
 we have spoken in a former essay. This expression of 
 emotion may be introduced even in the highest walks 
 of art ; but it requires great taste to portray it with- 
 out offensive exaggeration.* 
 
 * " The finest possible example of this condition of suffering U 
 in the picture of Guercino (in the Gallery of Milan), the 4 Departure 
 of Hagar and Ishmael.' Those who have seen only the engraving 
 can have little conception of the beauty of the picture, for the per- 
 fection is in the colouring. Hagar has been weeping ; her eyes are 
 red and swollen, but not so as to destroy her beauty ; she turns 
 again on hearing Abraham once more addressing her; she suspends 
 her breath, you persuade yourself that you hear her short con- 
 vulsive sobs ; for in the elevated shoulders and in the form of the 
 open lips, this is plainly indicated. The suffering expressed in the 
 condition of the chest, the misery in the forehead, and the colour- 
 ing of the eyelids, make this the finest example of expression which 
 I have seen." — Note from Journal. 
 
138 
 
 WEEPING. 
 
 The depression of the angle of the month gives an 
 air of despondence and languor when accompanied by 
 a general relaxation of the features, or, in other words, 
 of the muscles. When the corrurjator which knits the 
 brows co-operates with it, there is mingled in the 
 expression something of mental energy, of morosei? ss, 
 or pain. If the frontal mus-de adds its operation, 
 there is an acute turning upwards of the inner part 
 of the eyebrow, characteristic of anguish, debilitating 
 pain, or of discontent, according to the prevailing cast 
 of the rest of the countenance. 
 
 But while languor and despondency are indicated 
 by depression of the angle of the mouth, the depression 
 must be slight, not violent : for the depressor anguli oris 
 cannot act strongly without the combination of the 
 levator menti or superbus, which quickly produces a 
 change in the expression, by making the nether lip 
 pout contemptuously. 
 
 In sorrow, a general languor pervades the whole 
 countenance. The violence and tension of grief, the 
 lamentations, and the tumult, like all strong excite- 
 ments, gradually exhaust the frame. Sadness and 
 regret, with depression of spirits and fond recollections, 
 succeed ; and lassitude of the whole body, with dejec- 
 tion of the face and heaviness of the eyes, are the most 
 striking characteristics. The lips are relaxed and the 
 lower jaw drops ; the upper e} T elid f alls and half covers 
 the pupil of the eye. The eye is frequently filled 
 with tears, and the eyebrows take an inclination 
 similar to that which the depressors of the angles 
 of the lips give to the mouth.* 
 
 I am not quite sure that in the distress of Constance 
 
 * Some have been so far deceived by the effect of this raising ot 
 the eyebrows towards the centre of the forehead as to give the same 
 oblique line to the eyes ; but the can thus or angle of the eye ia 
 fixed iniLioveably, and no working of p.ission can alter it. 
 
WEEPING. 
 
 139 
 
 there is not an unnatural mixture of the tumult and 
 violence of grief with the contemplative recollections 
 of sorrow. Her impatience and turbulence, which 
 make her tear her hair, defy all counsel and redress 
 and call on death or madness as her sole relief, seem 
 ill assorted with that calmness of spirit which can 
 stop to recollect and enumerate in detail the figure 
 and endearing manners of her son. 
 
 Gref fills the room up of my absent child, 
 Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me ; 
 Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, 
 Hem embers me of all his gracious parts, 
 ►Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form : 
 Then, have I reason to be fond of grief. 
 Fare you well ! had you had such a loss as I, 
 1 could give better comfort than you do. — 
 I will not keep this form upon my head 
 
 [tearing off her head-dress.'] 
 When there is such disorder in my wit. 
 O Lord ! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son ! 
 My life, my joy, my food, my all the world ! 
 My widow's comfort, and my sorrows' cure ! " * 
 
 This appears rather to be the stage of the passion 
 which is called sorrow ; the indulgence of which is 
 attended with a melancholy delight which can sanction 
 the conclusion, " Then have I reason to be fond of 
 grief." Yet, as conviction returns at intervals upon 
 the mind, a period of quiet and sorrowful resignation 
 is succeeded by starts and violent bursts of grief. 
 
 Though grief is in general distinguished by its 
 violence, lamentation, and tumult, while sorrow is 
 silent, deep brooding, and full of depression, there is 
 a stupefaction which sometimes characterises grief, " the 
 lethargy of woe." 
 
 We have already had occasion to remark, that ex- 
 pressions, peculiarly human, chiefly affect the angle ol 
 
 * King John, Act iii. Scone 4. 
 
140 
 
 WEEPING. 
 
 the mouth and the inner extremity of the eyebrow; 
 an< to these points we must principally attend in all 
 ro;: observations concerning the expression of passion. 
 They are the most moveable parts of the face ; in 
 them, the muscles concentre, and upon the changes 
 which they undergo, expression is acknowledged chiefly 
 to depend. To demonstrate their importance, we have 
 only to repeat the experiment made by Peter of 
 Cortona ; to sketch a placid countenance, and touch 
 lightly with the pencil the angle of the lips and the 
 inner extremity of the eyebrows. By elevating or 
 depressing these, we shall quickly convey the expression 
 of grief or of laughter. 
 
 These parts, however, and all the features of an 
 impassioned countenance, have an accordance with each 
 other. When the angles of the mouth are depressed 
 in grief, the eyebrows are not elevated at the outer 
 angles as in laughter. When a smile plays around 
 the mouth, or the cheek is raised in laughter, the brows 
 are not ruffled as in grief. The characters of such 
 opposite passions are so distinct, that they cannot be 
 combined where there is true and genuine emotion. 
 When we see them combined, it is by those who 
 have an unnatural control over their muscles, and 
 the expression is farcical and ridiculous. It is an un- 
 worthy conceit to give to one side of the face comedy 
 and to the other tragedy. 
 
 In the features of an impassioned countenance there 
 is a consent and accordance of expression. It is not 
 upon a single feature that the emotion operates ; but 
 the whole face is marked with expression, all the move- 
 ments of which are consentaneous. This is referable to 
 some cause acting generally on the tone and state of the 
 frame: the peculiar expression of individual emotion 
 being distinguished by the action and determination of 
 certain features. 
 
KEEPING. 
 
 141 
 
 Taking indifference as the line of distinction between 
 fche two great classes of pain and of pleasure, the 
 sensations above this line are weak compared with 
 those below it. The simple sensations of pleasure, 
 before they are heightened and diversified by the 
 multiplied associations of mental affection, are soft and 
 gentle in their nature. The class of painful sensations 
 is powerful and overwhelming ; they are meant as our 
 guardians and protectors against danger and death, and 
 they operate with resistless force. The pleasurable 
 sensations induce a languor and delight, partaking of 
 the quality of indulgence and relaxation ; the painful 
 excite to the most violent tension, and make the mus- 
 cular frame start into convulsive action. 
 
 The emotions and passions, grounded on these great 
 classes of sensation, raised and increased by the 
 mingling of hopes and fears, and the combination of 
 analogous and associated images of delight or of dan- 
 ger, derive their most important traits of expression 
 from the general tone of pleasure or of pain. 
 
 In pain, the body is exerted to violent tension, and 
 all the emotions and passions allied to pain, or having 
 their origin and foundation in painful sensations, have 
 this general distinction of character, that there is an 
 energetic action or tremor, the effect of universal and 
 great excitement. It must at the same time be re- 
 membered, that all the passions of this class, some 
 more immediately, others more indirectly, produce in 
 the second stage exhaustion, debility, and loss of tone, 
 from over-exertion. 
 
 On the other hand, as pleasure is characterised by 
 languor, tranquillity, and relaxation, all the emotions 
 related to it, or deducible from pleasurable sensations, 
 are felt in the prevailing state of the system — a degree 
 of inaction, and as it were forgetfulness of bodily 
 exertion, and an indulgence in mental contempla- 
 
142 
 
 WEEPING. 
 
 tion.* The contemplation of beauty, or the admiration 
 of soft music, produces a sense of langour; the body 
 reclines ; the lips are half opened ; the eyes have a 
 softened lustre from the falling of the eyelids ; the 
 breathing is slow; and from the absolute neglect of 
 bodily sensation, and the temporary interruption of 
 xespiration, there is a frequent low-drawn sigh. 
 
 * " Here (Accademia della Belle Arte, Bologna) are two pictures 
 which one naturally compares. On the one side is the St. Cecilia ; 
 on the other, the Murder of the Innocents. In the St. Cecilia of 
 Raphael, in ecstasy, there is not only great beauty, but very fine 
 expression. She hears the music of angels ; her face is turned 
 upwards ; the features composed and fine. In the lower part of 
 the face there is a gentle relaxation, almost a smile ; the eyes are 
 directed upwards, but the eyebrow is placid. She is so wrapt, that 
 the pipes of the organ are almost falling from the hands, which 
 hang without exertion. 
 
 " In the picture of the Murder of the Innocents, by Guido Reni, 
 there is an admirable figure of a woman, wild and full of fire, who 
 flies with her infant pressed to her bosom. But there is another, 
 whose face is in the very attitude of the Cecilia, yet how different ! 
 The murder of her child has been perpetrated ; the child lies dead 
 before her ; she is on her knees ; her hands are clasped, and she 
 looks up to heaven ; her mouth is open, and all the features relaxed. 
 The hair and dress are deranged. What, then, is the difference in 
 expression, for there is a certain resemblance in the form and 
 attitude of these heads ? What is the difference between the 
 relaxation of despair and of enjoyment? the relaxed jaw, and 
 open mouth, and troubled forehead of the one, — the softness and 
 languor, with a certain firmness in the lips of the other." — Note 
 from Journal. 
 
( 143 ) 
 
 ESSAY VII. 
 
 THE SUBJECT CONTINUED; — OF PAIN — HORROR — CONVULSIONS 
 
 DEMONIACS DEATH. 
 
 The further we proceed in this inquiry the more 
 difficult and delicate does it become. In continuing 
 the subject, I shall rather indulge in detached remarks 
 than pretend to follow a regular course ; keeping, I 
 hope, still true to the observation of nature, and, as 
 far as possible, unprejudiced by theory. 
 
 Pain is affirmed to be unqualified evil ; yet pain is 
 necessary to our existence ; at birth, it rouses the dor- 
 mant faculties, and gives us consciousness. To imagine 
 the absence of pain, is not only to imagine a new state 
 of being, but a change in the earth, and all upon it. 
 As inhabitants of earth, and as a consequence of the 
 great law of gravitation, the human body must have 
 weight. It must have bones, as columns of support, 
 and levers for the action of its muscles ; and this 
 mechanical structure implies a complication and de- 
 licacy of texture beyond our conception. For that fine 
 texture a sensibility to pain is destined to be the pro- 
 tection ; it is the safeguard of the body ; it makes us 
 alive to those injuries which would otherwise destroy 
 us, and warns us to avoid them. 
 
 When, therefore, the philosopher asks why were not 
 our actions performed at the suggestions of pressure, 
 he imagines man, not constituted as he is, but as if he 
 belonged to a world in which there was neither weight, 
 nor pressure, nor anything injurious, where, there were 
 
144 
 
 PAIN. 
 
 no dangers to apprehend, no difficulties to overcome, 
 and no call for exertion, resolution, or courage. It 
 would, indeed, be a curious speculation to follow out 
 the consequences on the highest qualities of the mind, 
 if we could suppose man thus free from all bodih* 
 suffering. 
 
 But I return to the position, that pain is the great 
 safeguard of the frame, and now proceed to examine 
 its expression. 
 
 In bodily pain the jaws are fixed, and the teeth 
 grind ; the lips are drawn laterally, the nostrils dilated ; 
 the eyes are largely uncovered and the eyebrows 
 raised ; the face is turgid with blood, and the veins 
 of the temple and forehead distended ; the breath 
 being checked, and the descent of blood from the head 
 impeded by the agony of the chest, the cutaneous 
 muscle of the neck acts strongly, and draws down 
 the angles of the mouth. But when joined to this, 
 the man cries out, the lips are retracted, and the 
 mouth open ; and we find the muscles of his body rigid, 
 straining, struggling. If the pain be excessive he 
 becomes insensible, and the chest is affected by sudden 
 spasms. On recovering consciousness, he is incoherent, 
 till again roused by suffering. In bodily pain con- 
 joined with distress of mind, the eyebrows are knit, 
 while their inner extremities are raised ; the pupils 
 are in part concealed by the upper eyelids ; and the 
 nostrils are agitated. 
 
 The expression of pain is distinguished from that 
 of weeping not less than from that of laughing. These 
 arise from mental conditions, independent of physical 
 causes, and are uncontrollable and sympathetic. But pain 
 is bodily ; that is to say, there is a positive nervous 
 sensation, which excites to action, or to acts of volition ; 
 an energy of the whole frame is produced by suffering, 
 %nd, fron? the consciousness of its place or source, the 
 
Page, 14-4 
 
 PAIN 
 
DEMONIACS. 
 
 145 
 
 efforts are directed to remove it. Hence the struggle, 
 the powerful and voluntary exertions which accompany 
 it. Yet there is a resemblance and, in some degree, an 
 illiance between these actions and the spasms excited 
 by galvanism in experiments on the nerves of animals 
 apparently dead. 
 
 OF DEMONIACS. 
 
 "He has a Devil." — Two of the greatest painters, 
 Raphael and Domenichino, have painted demoniacal 
 boys. In the convent of the Grotto Ferrata, in the 
 neighbourhood of Eome, Domenichino has represented 
 Saint Nilus in the act of relieving a lad possessed.* 
 The saint, an old man, is on his knees in prayer ; the 
 lad is raised and held up by an aged man ; the mother 
 with a child is waiting the consummation of the 
 miracle. Convulsions have seized the lad ; he is 
 rigidly bent back ; the lower limbs spasmodically ex- 
 tended, so that his toes only rest on the ground ; the 
 eyes are distorted, and the pupils turned up under 
 the eyelids. This would be the position of Opisthoto- 
 nos, were not the hands spread abroad, the palms and 
 fingers open, and the jaw fallen. Had the representa- 
 tion been perfectly true to nature, the jaws would 
 have been clenched, and the teeth grinding. But then 
 the miracle could not have been represented, for one, 
 
 * " Domenichino, in consequence of some peccadillo, took shelter 
 in the sanctuary of the monks of the Grotto Ferrata, a fortified 
 convent some miles distant from Eome. The monks, under the 
 threat of delivering him up, made him paint their walls; and the 
 frescoes are, indeed, beautiful, particularly the old men. That 
 compartment which is called the Demoniac Boy, is most admired." 
 ~-Note from Journal. 
 
 L 
 
146 
 
 DEMONIACS. 
 
 under the direction of the saint, has the finger of his 
 left hand in the boy's month, and the other holds a 
 vessel of oil, with which the tongue is to be touched 
 The drawing and colouring exhibited in the lad, and 
 the grandeur of the old man, make this one of the 
 most admired paintings in Italy. 
 
 I have here given a sketch of the true Opisthotonos, 
 where it is seen that all the muscles are rigidly con- 
 tracted, the more powerful flexors prevailing over the 
 extensors. Were the painter to represent every cir- 
 cumstance faithfully the effect might be too painful, 
 and something must be left to his taste and imagina- 
 tion.* 
 
 It may be considered bold to criticise the works 
 of Kaphael ; but I venture to say that, if that great 
 master intended, in his cartoon of the Death of Ananias, 
 to excite horror, the effect would have been more 
 powerful, if there had been greater truth in the con- 
 vulsions of the chief figure, instead of a mere twisting 
 of the body. Strange it is, but true, that we are most 
 affected by the more slight, if correct, portraiture of a 
 natural condition. 
 
 In the same painter's great picture of the Trans- 
 figuration, in the Vatican, there is a lad possessed, 
 and in convulsions. I hope I am not insensible to the 
 beauties of that picture, nor presumptuous in saying 
 that the figure is not natural. A physician would 
 conclude that this youth was feigning. He is, I pre- 
 sume, convulsed ; he is stiffened with contractions, and 
 his eyes turned in their sockets. But no child was 
 ever so affected. In real convulsions, the extensor 
 muscles yield to the more powerftu contractions of 
 
 * The original sketch is in the College of Surgeons of Edinburgh. 
 J took it fiom soldiers wounded in the head, at the battle of 
 iorimna. Three men were similarly hurt, and in short succes- 
 sive intervals similarly affected, so that the character could not 
 fe mistaken. 
 
CONVULSIONS. 
 
 147 
 
 the flexor muscles; whereas, in the picture, the lad 
 extends his arms; and the fingers of the left hand 
 are stretched unnaturally backwards. Nor do the 
 lower extremities correspond with truth; he stands 
 firm ; the eyes are not natural, they should have been 
 turned more inwards, as looking into the head, and 
 partially buried under the forehead. The mouth, too, 
 is open, which is quite at variance with the general 
 condition, and without the apology which Domenichino 
 had. The muscles of the arms are exaggerated to a 
 degree which Michael Angelo never attempted; and 
 still it is the extensors and supinators, and not the 
 flexors, which are thus prominent. 
 
 Disease has characteristic symptoms, which we can 
 accurately and scientifically reduce to description ; and 
 borrowing from this source, there is no state of suffering 
 from which we can so well infer the nature of the agita- 
 tion of the frame as from hydrophobia. The patient 
 being sensible of his condition, and calm, and aware 
 of the experiment which is to be made upon him by 
 his physician, when he calls for a glass of water, can- 
 not resist the influence of the disease. He shudders, 
 his face assumes an expression of extreme horror and 
 alarm ; convulsive gulpings take place in his throat ; 
 he flies to some support, and clings to the bedpost in an 
 agony of suffocation. This I have witnessed in a 
 powerful man. I have had the pain of seeing the 
 disease in a girl of eighteen. The irritability of the 
 skin being increased to an awful degree, so that the 
 touch of her long hair falling on her naked body, ex- 
 cited, as she said, the paroxysms. These recurred with 
 a sense of choking, with sudden and convulsive heav- 
 ings of the chest, a shuddering, and catching of the 
 muscles of breathing, and an appalling expression of 
 suffering. The paroxysms in such a case becoming 
 more frequent and severe, finally exhaust the powers 
 
148 
 
 FEAR. 
 
 of life. In these convulsions it is the nervous and 
 muscular systems belonging to the natural function of 
 respiration which are affected ; and as they are also the 
 organs of expression, the condition is seen not only in 
 the countenance, but in the throat and chest, to be 
 that of extreme horror. 
 
 FEAR. 
 
 " Nam Timor unus erat, facies non una timoris, 
 Pars laniat crines, pars sine mente sedet. 
 Altera moesta silet, frustra vocat altera matrem, 
 Hsec queritur, stupet hsec, hsec ragit, ilia manet." 
 
 Ovid, be Arte Amandi. 
 
 So Ovid describes the Sabine virgins ; and such the 
 tumultuary and distracted state of mind produced by 
 fear. u And there is good reason for this, because in 
 a sudden daunt and onset of an unexpected evil, the 
 spirits which were before orderly carried by their 
 several due motions unto their natural works, are upon 
 this strange appearance and instant oppression of danger 
 so disordered, mixed, and stifled, that there is no power 
 left either in the soul for counsel, or in the body for 
 execution." In mere bodily fear there is mere animal 
 expression and meanness. The breath is drawn and 
 the respiration suspended ; the body fixed, and power- 
 less ; the eyes riveted, or searching and unsteady ; and 
 the action undetermined. 
 
 Mr. Burke, in his speculations on fear, assimilates 
 it, with perhaps too little discrimination, to pain. " A • 
 man in great pain," he observes, " has his teeth set ; 
 his eyebrows are violently contracted ; his forehead fa 
 wrinkled; his eyes are dragged inwards, and rolled 
 
CO 
 
FEAR. 
 
 149 
 
 with great vehemence ; his hair stands on end ; his 
 voice is forced out in short shrieks and groans ; and 
 the whole fabric totters." — " Fear or terror," he con 
 tinues, " which is an apprehension of pain or death, 
 exhibits exactly the same effects, approaching in 
 violence to those just mentioned, in proportion to the 
 nearness of the cause, and the weakness of the 
 subject." * 
 
 But there is one distinguishing feature of the two 
 conditions : the immediate effect of pain is to produce 
 an energetic action and tension of the whole frame ; 
 that of fear is to relax all the energy of mind and of 
 body — to paralyse, as it were, every muscle. Mr. Burke 
 seems to have written loosely, partly from forgetting 
 that pain and fear are often combined, and partly from 
 taking a view of the subject too much limited to the 
 particular conclusion which he wished to enforce. 
 There cannot be great pain without its being attended 
 by the distraction of doubts and fears ; the dread even 
 of death is a natural consequence of extreme pain, and 
 so the expression of fear in the countenance is fre- 
 quently mingled with that of pain. But, perhaps, there 
 are few passions which may not be assimilated by such 
 combinations ; fear and hatred ; hatred and rage ; rage 
 and vengeance and remorse. On the other hand, con 
 fining ourselves to simple bodily fear, there is much 
 truth in the observation of this eloquent writer. The 
 fear of boiling water falling on the legs, gives an ex- 
 pression of the anticipation of scalding, resembling the 
 meaner expression of bodily pain. As Mr. Burke says, 
 fear in the dog will no doubt be that of the lash, and 
 he will yelp and howl as if he actually felt the blows ; 
 and this indeed is the only kind of fear which brutes 
 know. The higher degrees of fear, in which the mind 
 
 * Sublime and Beautiful, Part IV. sect. 3. Cause of Pain and 
 Fear. 
 
150 
 
 FEAE. 
 
 operates, and which we shall see characterised in the 
 countenance by an expression peculiar to mental energy, 
 do not appear in them. 
 
 In man, the expression of mere bodily fear is like 
 that of animals, without dignity ; it is the mean an- 
 ticipation of pain. The eyeball is largely uncovered, 
 the eyes are staring, and the eyebrows elevated to the 
 utmost stretch. There is a spasmodic affection of the 
 diaphragm and muscles of the chest, disturbing the 
 breathing, producing a gasping in the throat, with an 
 inflation of the nostril, convulsive opening of the mouth, 
 and dropping of the jaw ; the lips nearly conceal the 
 teeth, yet allow the tongue to be seen, the space 
 between the nostril and the lip being full. There is 
 a hollowness and convulsive motion of the cheeks, and 
 a trembling of the lips, and muscles on the side of the 
 neck. The lungs are kept distended, while the breath- 
 ing is short and rapid. From the connection of the 
 nerves of the lungs and diaphragm with those of the 
 side of the neck, and with the branches which supply 
 the cutaneous muscle of the cheek and neck, we may 
 comprehend the cause of the convulsive motion of this 
 muscle.* The aspect is pale and cadaverous from the 
 receding of the blood. The hair is lifted up by tho 
 creeping of the skin, and action of the occipito- 
 frontalis. 
 
 In the preceding sketch, I have endeavoured to 
 express fear mingled with wonder. But if we should 
 suppose the fear there represented, to have arisen from 
 apprehended danger still remote, and that the object of 
 fear approaches, and is now about to cleave to the 
 person, he trembles, looks pale, has a cold sweat on his 
 face, and in proportion as the imagination has less room 
 to range in, as the danger is more distinctly visible, the 
 expression partakes more of actual bodily pain. The 
 * See Essay 011 the Nerves. 
 
FEAK. 
 
 151 
 
 scream of f3ar is heard, the eyes start forward, the lips 
 are drawn wide, the hands are clenched, and the ex- 
 pression becomes more strictly animal, and indicative of 
 such fear as is common to brutes.* 
 
 * I shall here transcribe a portion from my brother's volume on 
 Italy. Mr. John Bell travelled in declining health ; and died in 
 Rome, in ] 820. He had written a great deal with a pencil, in the 
 course of his journey : and no less than thirty small volumes of 
 notes, thus jotted down on his knee, were submitted by his widow 
 to Professor Bell and myself. In these we saw much to admire ; 
 but knowing how much would have been changed and corrected 
 had our brother lived, we thought them unfit for publication. Of 
 the many striking passages in the work, the following may be 
 selected as relating to the present subject : — 
 
 " Turin. The Execution of an Assassin,— 1 found myself opposite 
 to the distracted criminal whom they were conducting to execution 
 in all the agonies of terror and despair. He was seated in a black 
 car, preceded by arquebusiers, on horseback, carrying their cara- 
 bines pointed forward. These were followed by a band of priests, 
 clothed in long black robes, singing, in deep and solemn tones, a 
 slow mournful dirge, — part of the service for the dead. A hot 
 burning sun shone with a flood of light ; and, though it was mid- 
 day, such was the silence, and such the power and effect of this 
 solemn chant, that its sound was re-echoed from every distant 
 street. The brothers of the Misericordia, clothed in black, and 
 masked, walked by the side of the car, and joined in the chant. 
 On the steps of the car sat a man bearing a flag, on which Death 
 was represented in the usual forms, and on which was inscribed in 
 Latin (if I read it rightly), ' Death has touched me with his fingers/ 
 or * Death has laid his hands on me.' On each side of the car, the 
 officiating priests were seated ; and in the centre, sat the criminal 
 himself. It was impossible to witness the condition of this unhappy 
 wretch without terror ; and yet, as if impelled by some strange in- 
 fatuation, it was equally impossible not to gaze upon an object so 
 wild, so full of horror. He seemed about thirty-five years of age ; 
 of large and muscular form; his countenance marked by strong 
 and savage features; half naked, pale as death, agonised with 
 terror, every limb strained in anguish, his hands clenched convul- 
 sively, the sweat breaking out on his bent and contracted brow, he 
 kissed incessantly the figure of our Saviour, painted on the flag 
 which was suspended before him ; but with an agony of wildness 
 and despair, of which, nothing ever exhibited on the stage can 
 give the slightest conception. I could not refrain from moralising 
 upon the scene here presented. The horror that the priest had 
 excited in the soul of this savage, was greater than the fear of the 
 most cruel death could ever have produced. But the terrors thus 
 
152 
 
 TERKOR. 
 
 1 should apply the name of terror to that kind of fear 
 in which there is a strong working of the imagination, 
 and which is therefore peculiar to man. The eye is 
 bewildered ; the inner extremity of the eyebrows is 
 elevated, and strongly knit by the action of the cor- 
 rugator ; thus producing an expression of distracting 
 thought, anxiety, and alarm, and one which does not 
 belong to animals. The cheek is a little raised, and all 
 the muscles which are concentred about the mouth are 
 active ; there being a kind of modulating action in the 
 circular muscle of the lips, which keeps the mouth 
 partially open. The cutaneous muscle of the neck, the 
 plat3^sma myoides, is strongly contracted, and its fibres 
 may be seen starting into action like cords, under the 
 skin, and dragging powerfully on the angles of the 
 mouth. The imagination wanders ; there is an inde- 
 cision in the action, the steps are furtive and unequal, 
 there is a spasm which hinders speech, and the colour 
 of the cheeks vanishes. 
 
 " Canst thou quake and change thy colour, 
 Murther thy breath in middle of a word, 
 And then again begin, and stop again, 
 As if thou wast distraught and mad with terror?"* 
 
 "When mingled with astonishment, terror is fixed and 
 mute. The fugitive and unnerved steps of mere terror 
 are then changed for the rooted and motionless figure of 
 
 raised, were the superstitions of an ignorant and bewildered mind, 
 bereft of animal courage, and impressed with some confused belief, 
 that eternal safety was to be instantly secured by external marks of 
 homage to the image. There was here none of the composed, 
 conscious, awful penitence of a Christian ; and it was evident, that 
 the priest was anxious only to produce a being in the near prospect 
 of death, whose condition should alarm all that looked on him. 
 The attempt was successful."'— Observations on Italy, p. 48. By 
 the late John Bell. Published by his Widow. Edinburgh, 1825, 
 * Kichard III. Act iii. Scene 5. 
 
Page, 152 
 
 TERROR 
 
DESPAIR. 
 
 153 
 
 a creature appalled and stupified. Spenser characterises 
 well this kind of terror : — 
 
 " He answered nought at all : but adding new 
 
 Fear to his first amazement, staring wide 
 
 With stony eyes, and heartless hollow hue, 
 
 Astonish'd stood, as one that had espy'd 
 
 Infernal furies with their chains unty'd. 
 * * * * * 
 
 But trembling every joint did inly quake, 
 And falt'ring tongue at last these words seem'd forth to shake."* 
 
 Horror differs from both fear and terror, although 
 more nearly allied to the last than to the first. It is 
 superior to both in this, that it is less imbued with 
 personal alarm. It is more full of sympathy with the 
 Bufferings of others, than engaged with our own. We 
 are struck with horror even at the spectacle of artificial 
 distress, but it is peculiarly excited by the real danger 
 or pain of another. We see a child in the hazard 
 of being crushed by an enormous weight, with sensa- 
 tions of extreme horror. Horror is full of energy ; the 
 body is in the utmost tension, not unnerved, by fear. 
 The flesh creeps, and a sensation of cold seems to chill 
 the blood ; the term is applicable of " damp horror." 
 
 Despair is a mingled emotion. While terror is in 
 some measure the balancing and distraction of a mind 
 occupied with an uncertainty of danger, despair is the 
 total wreck of hope, the terrible assurance of ruin 
 having closed around, beyond all power of escape, 
 The expression of despair must vary with the nature of 
 the distress of which it forms the acme. In certain 
 circumstances it will assume a bewildered, distracted 
 air, as if madness were likely to be the only close to the 
 mental agony. Sometimes there is at once a wildness 
 in the looks and total relaxation, as if falling into 
 Insensibility ; :r there is upon the countenance of the 
 
 * Faery Queen, Book i. cant. 9, s. 24, 
 
154 
 
 DESPAIR. 
 
 desperate man a horrid gloom ; the eye is fixed, yet ho 
 neither sees nor hears aught, nor is sensible of what 
 surrounds him. The features are shrunk and livid, 
 and convulsion and tremors affect the muscles of the 
 face. Hogarth has chosen well the scene of his picture 
 of despair. In a gaming-house, the wreck of all hope 
 affects, in a thousand various ways, the victims of this 
 vice ; but in every representation of despair, an incon- 
 solable and total abandonment of those exertions to 
 which hope inspirits and excites a man, forms an 
 essential feature. We have two fine descriptions of 
 despair given in detail by English poets. One is by 
 Spenser : 
 
 " The darksome cave they enter, where they find 
 That cursed man, low sitting on the ground, 
 Musing full sadly in his sullen mind ; 
 His greazy locks, long growing and unbound, 
 Disorder'd hung about his shoulders round, 
 And hid his face ; through which his hollow eyne 
 Look, deadly dull, and stared as astound ; 
 His raw-bone cheeks, through penury and pine, 
 
 Where shrunk into his jaws, as he did never dine."* 
 
 The other is in the tragedy of the " Gamester," 
 where Beverley, after heart-rending reiteration of hope 
 and disappointment, having staked the last resource of 
 his wife and family on one fatal throw, finds himself 
 suddenly plunged into ruin. 
 
 " When all was lost, he fixed his eyes upon the 
 ground, and stood some time with folded arms stupid 
 and motionless : then snatching his sword that hung 
 against the wainscot, he sat him down, and with a look 
 of fixed attention drew figures on the floor. At last he 
 started up ; looked wild and trembled ; and, like a 
 woman seized with her sex's fits, laughed out aloud, 
 while the tears trickled down his face. So he left the 
 room." 
 
 * Faery Queen, Book i. cant, 9, s. Bi 
 
ADMIRATION. 
 
 155 
 
 A painter may have to represent terror, despair, 
 astonishment, and supernatural awe, mingled in one 
 powerful expression of emotion. In a mind racked 
 with deep despair, conscious of strength and courage, 
 but withered and subdued by supernatural agency, 
 the expression is quite removed from all meanness ; 
 it must be preserved grand and terrific ; the hero 
 may still appear, though palpitating and drained of 
 vigour. 
 
 Milton has admirably ske-tched the nerveless stupe- 
 faction of mingled astonishment and horror : — 
 
 " On th' other side, Adam, soon as he heard 
 The fatal trespass done by Eve, amaz'd, 
 Astonied stood and blank, while horror chill 
 Ran through his veins, and all his joints relax'd ; 
 From his slack hand the garland wreath'd for Eve 
 Down dropp'd, and all the faded roses shed : 
 Speechless he stood and pale, till thus at length 
 First to himself he inward silence broke." * 
 
 In admiration, the faculty of sight is enjoyed to the 
 utmost, and all else is forgotten. The brow is expanded 
 and unruffled, the eyebrow gently raised, the eyelid 
 lifted so as to expose the coloured circle of the eye, 
 while the lower part of the face is relaxed in a gentle 
 smile. The mouth is open, the jaw a little fallen, 
 and by the relaxation of the lower lip we just perceive 
 the edge of the lower teeth and the tongue. The 
 posture of the body is most expressive when it seems 
 arrested in some familiar action. 
 
 Joy is distinguishable from pleasure. It consists, 
 not so much in the sense of gratification, as in the 
 delight of the conviction that the long-expected 
 pleasure is within our reach, and the lively anticipation 
 of the enjoyment which is now decked out in its most 
 favourite and alluring shape. A certain sensation oi 
 
 * Paradise Lost, Book i*. ver. 888. 
 
156 
 
 JOT. 
 
 want is mingled with joy; a recollection of the alter- 
 nate hopes and fears which formerly distracted the 
 mind, contrasted with the immediate assurance ol 
 gratification. 
 
 In joy the eyebrow is raised moderately, but without 
 any angularity ; the forehead is smooth ; the eye fall, 
 lively, and sparkling ; the nostril is moderately in- 
 flated, and a smile is on the lips. In all the exhilarating 
 emotions, the eyebrow, the eyelid, the nostril, and the 
 angle of the mouth are raised. In the depressing 
 passions it is the reverse. For example, in discontent 
 the brow is clouded, the nose peculiarly arched, and the 
 angle of the mouth drawn down. 
 
 Contrasted with joy is the testy, pettish, peevish 
 countenance bred of melancholy; as of one who is 
 incapable of receiving satisfaction from whatever source 
 it may be offered; who cannot endure any man to look 
 steadily upon him, or even speak to him, or laugh, or 
 jest, or be familiar, or hem, or point, without thinking 
 himself contemned, insulted, or neglected. 
 
 The arching of the mouth and peculiar form of the 
 wings of the nose are produced by the conjoint action 
 of the triangular muscle which depresses the angles of 
 the mouth, and the superbus, whose individual action 
 protrudes the lower lip. The very peevish turn given to 
 the eyebrows, the acute upward inflection of their inner 
 extremities, and the meeting of the perpendicular and 
 transverse furrows in the middle of the forehead, are 
 produced by the opposed action of part of the frontal 
 muscle and of the corrugator. 
 
 Habitual suspicion and jealousy are symptoms and 
 accompaniments of melancholy. Envy may be classed 
 with these expressions ; but it is an ungenerous re- 
 pining, not a momentary passion.* "It consumes a 
 
 * " La invidia, crudelissimo dolore di animo, per ll bene altnri, 
 fa ritirar tutti i membri, come contraere et offuscar le ciglie, stringere 
 
Page 156 
 
 JEALOUSY 
 
JEALOUSY. 
 
 man as a moth does a garment, to be a living anatomy, 
 a skeleton— to be a lean and pale carcass quickened 
 with the fiend — ' intabescetque vivendo' " 
 
 Suspicion is characterised by earnest attention, with 
 a certain timorous obliquity of the eyes : — 
 
 " Foul ill-favoured and grim, 
 Under his eyebrows looking still askance; 
 And ever as Dissemblance laughed on him, 
 He lour'd on her with dangerous eye glance, 
 Showing his nature in his countenance : 
 His rolling eyes did never rest in place, 
 But walk'd each where, for fear of hid mischaunce, 
 Holding a lattice still before his face, 
 Through which he still did peep as forward he did pace." * 
 
 Jealousy is marked by a more frowning and dark 
 obliquity of the eyes, as if it said, " I have an eye on 
 yon;" with the lowering eyebrow is combined a cruel 
 expression of the lower part of the face. 
 
 Jealousy is a fitful and unsteady passion: its chief 
 character is in the rapid vicissitudes from love to hate ; 
 now absent, moody, and distressed ; now courting love ; 
 now ferocious and revengeful ; these changes make it a 
 difficult subject for the painter ; and it is only in poetry 
 that it can be truly presented in the vivid colours of 
 nature. Even among poets, Shakspeare alone seems to 
 have been equal to the task. Sometimes it may be 
 personified in the face of a mean, suspicious, yet op- 
 pressed creature; or again in a lowering expression, 
 the body as if shrunk into itself; like that of one 
 brooding over his condition, and piecing out a tissue 
 of trifling incidents to abuse his judgment. 
 
 i denti, ritirar le labbra, torcersi con certa passione di sguardo quasi 
 m atto di volere intendere et spiare i fatti altrui" &c.— Lomazzo 
 p. 130. 
 
 * Faery Queen, Book iii. c. 12, s. 15. 
 
BAGE. 
 
 In jealousy the eyebrows are knit, and the eyelid so 
 fully lifted as almost to disappear, while the eyeball 
 glares from under the bushy eyebrow. There is a 
 general tension of the muscles which concentre around 
 the mouth, and the lips retract and shew the teeth with 
 a fierce expression ; this depends partly on the turn ot 
 the nostril, which accompanies the retraction of the 
 lips. The mouth should express that bitter anguish 
 which the Italian poet has rather too distinctly told : — 
 
 " Trema '1 cor dentro, e treman fuor le labbia, 
 Non pud la lingua disnodar parola, 
 La bocca amara e par che tosco v* habbia." 
 
 Again : — 
 
 " E per V ossa un tremor freddo gli scorre, 
 Con cor trafitto, e con pallida faccia, 
 E con voce tremante, e bocca amara? 
 
 There seems to be a natural succession in the passions 
 of rage, revenge, and remorse : I do not mean morally, 
 but in regard to our present inquiry concerning the 
 traits of expression. A slight change in the lineaments 
 of rage gives the expression of revenge, while the cruel 
 eye of revenge is tempered by the relaxing energy of 
 the lower part of the countenance in remorse. 
 
 Eage is that excess or vehemence of anger that can 
 be no longer restrained — sceva animi tempestas. Whether 
 the object be near or remote, the frame is wrought and 
 chafed. It is a brutal passion, in which the body acts 
 with an impetuosity not directed by sense. If we 
 observe it in a beast, we shall better recognise it in 
 man. When the keeper strikes the tiger or the wolf 
 with his pole, there is an instantaneous fire of ex- 
 pression ; the eye, the teeth are in a moment exposed, 
 and accompanied with an excitement of the frame 
 which we cannot see unmoved. If we imagine the 
 
Page 158 
 
 RAGE 
 
RAGE. 
 
 159 
 
 human brute strangling helpless age or infancy, it must 
 he with such a rage as this. Lord Karnes says, kt A 
 stock or a st jne by which I am hurt becomes an object 
 of resentment, and I am violently incited to crush it to 
 atoms." This is purely as the wolf bites the stick which 
 is presented to him. In considering those bursts of 
 passion which lead us to wreak our vengeance upon 
 inanimate objects, Dr. Eeid supposes we are possessed 
 with the momentary belief that the object is alive : 
 * There must," he says, " be some momentary notion or 
 conception that the object of our resentment is capable 
 of punishment." I believe the mistake here is in not 
 having a confirmed notion of the intimate connection 
 between the emotion in the mind and the exertion of 
 the bodily frame. The body and limbs suffer an 
 agitation as the face does, resulting from the passion ; 
 and if a man, half conscious of the frenzy which 
 possesses him, and afraid of being betrayed into an act 
 of cruelty, flings from him the weapon of destruction, 
 it is with the jerk and impetuosity of an outrageous act ; 
 whilst his humane sense controls him, it is not capable 
 of arresting that instinctive agency of the body wrought 
 upon by the passion ; just as a man, after a long 
 exercise of patience in some work of delicacy or nicety, 
 is at last overcome, dashes the instrument from him, 
 and relieves himself by a burst of impatience and some 
 angry strides. 
 
 In rage the features are unsteady ; the eyeballs are 
 seen largely ; they roll and are inflamed. The front is 
 alternately knit and raised iu furrows by the motion of 
 the eyebrows, the nostrils are inflated to the utmost ; 
 the lips are swelled, and, being drawn by the muscles, 
 open the corners of the mouth. The whole visage is 
 sometimes pale, sometimes turgid, dark, and almost 
 livid i tha words are delivered strongly through the 
 
160 
 
 REMORSE. 
 
 fixed teeth ; " the hair is fixed on end like one distracted, 
 and every joint should seem to curse and ban."* 
 Tasso thus describes the rage of Argante : 
 
 " Tacque ; e '1 Pagano al sofferir poco uso, 
 Morde le labbra, e di furor si strugge. 
 Kisponder vuol, ma '1 suono esce confuso, 
 Siceome strido d' animal, che rugge : 
 O come apre le nubi ond' egli e chiuso, 
 Impetuoso il fulmine, e sen fugge ; 
 Cosi pareva a forza ogni suo detto 
 
 Tonando uscir dall' infiammato petto/' — Cant. vi. 38.f 
 
 But in representing the passion, it may be much 
 varied : perhaps the eyes are fixed upon the ground ; 
 the countenance pale, troubled, and threatening; the 
 lip trembling and the breath suppressed, or there is a 
 deep and long inspiration as of inward pain. 
 
 In the following sketch I have endeavoured to 
 represent that expression which succeeds the last 
 horrid act of revenge ; the storm has subsided, but 
 the gloom is not yet dissipated. Some compunctious 
 visitings of nature are in the lips, though the eye 
 retains its severity. By the posture and fixed attention, 
 I would indicate that the survey of the now lifeless 
 body carries back the train of thought with regret for 
 past transactions. 
 
 To represent the prevailing character and physiog- 
 nomy of a madman, the body should be strong and the 
 muscles rigid and distinct, the skin bound, the features 
 sharp, the eye sunk ; the colour of a dark brownish 
 
 * " La furia fn- gl' atti stolti e fuor di se ; si comme di quelli che 
 si avvolgono ne i moti ofFensivi, senza riguardo alcuno, rendendosi 
 veliementi in tutti gl' affetti, con bocca aperta et storta, che par che 
 stridano, ringhino, urlino et si lamentino, stracciandosi le membra 
 et i panni et facendo altre smanie." — Lommazzo, lib. ii. p. 135. 
 
 f If the painter has any imagination and power of delineation, 
 the reading of the combat of Tancred and Argante must inspire 
 him with a grand conception of the sublime ferocity of the human 
 figure in action. 
 
Page 160 
 
 REMORSE 
 
MADKESS 
 
MADNESS. 
 
 161 
 
 yellow, tinctured with sallowness, without one spot of 
 enlivening carnation ; the hair sooty black, stiff and 
 bushy. Or, perhaps, he might be represented as of a 
 pale sickly yellow, with wiry hair. 
 
 " His burning even, whom bloody strakes did stain, 
 Stared full ^ ide, and threw forth sparks of fire ; 
 And more for rank despight than for great pain, 
 Shak'd his long locks, colour'd like copper wire, 
 
 And bit his tawny beard to show his raging ire." * 
 
 I do not mean here to trace the progress of the 
 diseases of the mind, but merely to throw out some 
 hints respecting the external character of the outrageous 
 maniac. 
 
 You see him lying in his cell regardless of everything, 
 with a death-like settled gloom upon his countenance. 
 When I say it is a death-like gloom, I mean a heaviness 
 of the features without knitting of the brows or action 
 of the muscles. If you watch him in his paroxysm you 
 may see the blood working to his head ; his face 
 acquires a darker red; he becomes restless ; then rising 
 from his couch he paces his cell and tugs his chains ; 
 now his inflamed eye is fixed upon you, and his features 
 lighten up into wildness and ferocity. 
 
 The error into which a painter ma} 7 naturally fall is 
 to represent this expression by the swelling features of 
 passion and the frowning eyebrow ; but this would only 
 give the idea of passion, not of madness. Or he mistakes 
 melancholia for madness. The theory upon which we 
 are to proceed in attempting to convey this peculiar 
 look of ferocity amidst the utter wreck of the intellect, 
 I conceive to be, that the expression of mental energy 
 should be avoided, and consequently the action of all 
 those muscles which indicate sentiment. I believe this 
 to be true to nature, because I have observed (contrary 
 to my expectation) that there was not that energy, 
 
 * Fairy Queen, Book ii. cant. 4, s. 15. 
 
 M 
 
162 
 
 MADNESS. 
 
 that kr.itting of the brows, that indignant brooding 
 and thoughtfulness in the face of madmen which is 
 generally imagined to characterise their expression, and 
 which is so often given to them in painting. There is 
 a vacancy in their laugh, and a want of meaning in 
 their ferociousness. 
 
 To learn the character of the countenance, when 
 devoid of human expression, and reduced to the state 
 of brutality, we must have recourse to the lower ani- 
 mals, and study their looks of timidity, of watchfulness, 
 of excitement, and of ferocity. If these expressions 
 are transferred to the human face, I should conceive 
 that they will irresistibly convey the idea of madness, 
 vacancy of mind, and mere animal passion. 
 
 But these discussions are only for the study of the 
 painter. The subject should be full in his mind, 
 without its being for a moment imagined that such 
 painful or humiliating details are suited to the canvas. 
 If madness is to be represented, it is with a moral aim, 
 to show the consequences of vice and the indulgence ol 
 passion. 
 
 There is a link of connection between all liberal pro- 
 fessions. The painter may borrow from the physician. 
 He will require something more than his fancy can 
 supply, if he has to represent a priestess or a sybil. 
 It must be the creation of a mind, learned as well as 
 inventive. He may readily conceive a female form full 
 of energy, her imagination at the moment exalted and 
 pregnant, so that things long past are painted m 
 colours as if they stood before her, and her expression 
 becomes bold and poetical. But he will have a more 
 true and precise idea of what is to be depicted, if he 
 reads the history of that melancholia which undoubtedly, 
 in early times, has given the idea of one possessed with 
 a spirit. A young woman is seen constitutionally 
 pale and languid; and from this inanimate state, no 
 
MADNESS. 
 
 163 
 
 show of affection or entreaty will draw her into con- 
 versation with her family. But how changed is her 
 condition, when instead of the lethargy and fixed coun- 
 tenance, the circulation is suddenly restored, the blood 
 mounts to her cheeks, and her eyes sparkle, while both 
 in mind and body she manifests an unwonted energy, 
 and her whole frame is animated. During the con- 
 tinuance of the paroxysm, she delivers herself with a 
 force of thought and language, and in a tone so greatly 
 altered, that even her parents say, " She is not our 
 child, she is not our daughter, a spirit has entered into 
 her." This is in accordance with the prevailing super- 
 stition of antiquity ; for how natural to suppose, when 
 this girl again falls into a state of torpor, and sits like 
 a marble statue, pale, exhausted, taciturn, that the 
 spirit has left her. The transition is easy ; the priests 
 take her under their care, watch her ravings and give 
 them meaning, until she sinks again into a death-like 
 stupor or indifference. 
 
 Successive attacks of this kind impress the counte- 
 nance indelibly. The painter has to represent features 
 powerful, but consistent with the maturity and per- 
 fection of feminine beauty. He will show his genius 
 by portraying, not only a fine female form with the 
 grandeur of the antique, but a face of peculiar cha- 
 racter ; embodying a state of disease often witnessed 
 by the physician, with associations derived from history. 
 If on the dead and uniform paleness of the face he 
 bestows that deep tone of interest which belongs to 
 features inactive, but not incapable of feeling : if he 
 can show something of the imprint of long suffering 
 isolated from human sympathy, throw around her the 
 appropriate mantle, and let the fine hair fall on her 
 shoulders, the picture will require no golden letters to 
 announce her character, as in the old paintings of the 
 Sybil or the Pythoness. 
 
 m a 
 
164 
 
 OF DEATH. AS REPRESENTED IN THE PAINTINGS OF THE 
 
 OLD MASTERS. 
 
 Before proceeding, I must repeat, that the convulsions 
 of the body which sometimes accompany the act of 
 dying, are not the effect of pain, but succeed to insensi- 
 bility. There may remain, after death, for a time, the 
 expression of suffering; but this soon subsides, and the 
 features become placid and composed. Therefore it is 
 that the sorrowing friends are withdrawn, until Death 
 has had the victory, when the features assume the 
 tranquillity of sleep. 
 
 The observation of Leonardo da Vinci, that contrast 
 is essential in painting, has a fine example in the picture 
 of the " Martyrdom of St. Agnes." * Near the martyr 
 lie two soldiers struck down by a miracle : one of these 
 is in the agony, but not yet dead ; the muscles of his 
 neck are convulsed, the mouth extended, and the lips 
 drawn back from the teeth, the brow is furrowed, the 
 eyes almost closed, and the pupils not visible : the 
 other soldier is tumbled over him ; his features are 
 fixed in death : with both of these is contrasted the 
 resignation of the martyr. 
 
 When in Koine, I heard much of the fine statue of St. 
 Cecilia Decollata ; f I, therefore, went to the Church of 
 St. Cecilia in Trastevere. Looking for a statue, my 
 surprise was great when it was pointed out where the 
 figure lay, in a crypt or low marble arch, under the 
 great altar. $ A gold case, containing the heart of the 
 
 * In the Accadomia delle Belle Arte, Bologna, 
 t Stefano Mademo Sculptor. 1599. 
 
 X Cardinal Banonius has gWen us an exact description of the 
 appearance of the body, buried by Pope Paschal (in the 9th century) 
 when exhumed by order of Cardinal Spondati in 1599. " She 
 was lying not in the manner of one dead and buried, that is. 
 
DEATH. 
 
 165 
 
 saint, hangs from the centre of the arcn. St. Cecilia 
 was an early convert to Christianity, and having drawn 
 her brother, and many others to the faith, she suffered 
 martyrdom, and was found in the precise position in 
 which this marble represents her. The body lies on 
 its side, the limbs a little drawn up ; the hands are 
 delicate and fine, they are not locked, but crossed at 
 the wrists ; the arms are stretched out The drapery 
 is beautifully modelled, and modestly covers the limbs. 
 The head is enveloped in linen, but the general form is 
 seen, and the artist has contrived to convey by its 
 position, though not offensively, that it is separated 
 from the body. A gold circlet is around the neck to 
 conceal the place of decollation. It is the statue of a 
 lady, perfect in form, and affecting, from the resemblance 
 to reality in the drapery of white marble, and the un- 
 expected appearance of the statue altogether. It lies, 
 as no living body could lie ; and yet correctly, as the 
 dead, when left to expire, — I mean in the gravitation 
 of the limbs.* 
 
 The position of the head will distinguish the dead 
 from the living figure. There is so much difference 
 
 on her back, but on her right side, as one asleep : and in a very 
 modest attitude ; covered with a simple stuff of taffeta, having her 
 head bound with cloth, and at her feet the remains of the cloth of 
 gold and silk which Pope Paschal had found in her tomb." The 
 statue of Mademo agrees exactly with this description. — Mrs. 
 Jameson, Sacred and Legendary Art. 
 
 * Statua di St. Cecilia. — " Questa graziosa statua giacente, rap- 
 presenta un corpo morto come se allora fosse caduto mollemente sul 
 terreno, colle estremita ben disposte e con tutta la decenza nelF 
 assetto dei panneggiamenti, tenendo la testa rivolta all' ingiu 
 e avilluppata in una benda, senza che inopportunamente si scorga 
 V irrigidire dei corpi freddi per morte. Le pieghe vi sono facile, e 
 tutta la grazia spira dalla persona, che si vede essere giovine e 
 gentile, quantunque asconda la faccia ; le forme generali, e le belle 
 estremita che se mostrano, danno a vedere con quanta grazia e con 
 quanta scelta sia stata imitata la natura in quel posare si dolee- 
 mente." 
 
DEATH. 
 
 1(37 
 
 between fainting and death ; that is to say, it is so 
 possible to mark the difference, that I confess I have 
 been disappointed by the failure of some of the finest 
 painters ; for example, in the representation of the 
 Madonna fainting at the foot of the cross, which is a 
 very frequent subject, the colouring is commonly that 
 of death.* 
 
 There is sometimes in death a fearful agony in the 
 eye ; but we have said, that it is consolatory to know 
 that this does not Indicate suffering, but increasing 
 insensibility. The pupils are turned upwards and in- 
 wards. This is especially observed in those who are 
 expiring from loss of blood. It is the strabismus patheti- 
 cus orantium of Boerhaave. Sauvages observes on this 
 rolling up of the eyeball, in dying children, — " Vulgo 
 aiunt hos tenellos suam patriam respicere." 4 The 
 vulgar say, that these little ones are looking to their 
 native home.'f 
 
 We cannot fail to observe how artfully the poets 
 accommodate their descriptions of death to that kind of 
 interest which they have laboured to excite. The tyrant 
 falls convulsed and distorted in agony ; the hero, in 
 
 * Gesu Cristo Morto. — " He lies, the head and shoulders resting 
 on the knees of his mother, who has fainted. The posture and 
 abandonment of the Magdalen is the finest representation possible ; 
 her hair, as usual, loose. She is kneeling at the feet of our Saviour, 
 her hands convulsively entwined. The dead body is beautifully 
 drawn ; the anatomy perfect, not exaggerated. But the mother is 
 dead — gone to decay — not in faint, but in death : such is the effect 
 of the colouring." — Note from Journal. Parma. 
 
 f To express approaching dissolution, the French peasant uses a 
 parase derived from this upturning of the eye-bull. She arrived— 
 " au moment ou ea mere tourne l'ceil." 
 
 In the sudden death of the necromancer by the action of Astolfo's 
 iword on his fated hair : — 
 
 " Si fece il viso allor pallido e brutto 
 Travolse gli occhi, e dimostro a 1' occaso 
 Per manifesti segni esser condutto." 
 
 Ariosto, Ci 15, st. 65. 
 
168 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 whose fate we have been made to sympathise, expires 
 without the horrors of death ; his fall is described 
 with all the images of gentle sinking, where mortal 
 languor is succeeded by insensibility, unaccompanied by 
 pari gs and struggles. 
 
 In the episode of Nisus and Euryalus, Virgil gives to 
 the death of Sulmo all the horror of violent death ; the 
 breath is convulsively drawn, arid the sides palpitate. 
 
 " Hasta volans noctis diverberat umbras, 
 Et venit aversi in tergum Suhnonis, iMqtie 
 Frangitur, ac fisso transit prseeordia ligno. 
 Volvitur ille vomens calidum de pectore fiumen 
 Frigidus, et longis singultibus ilia pulsat." — 
 
 JEneid, ix. 411. 
 
 But in the death of Euryalus the poet recurs to all 
 the images of languid and gentle decline ; — 
 
 " Volvitur Euryalus letho, pulchrosque per artus 
 It cruor, inque humeros cervix collapsa recumbit : 
 Purpureus veluti quum flos, succisus aratro, 
 Languescit moriens ; lassove papavera collo 
 Demisere caput, pluvia quum forte gravantur." * 
 
 JEneid, ix. 433. 
 
 Tasso presents us with some very fine contrasts ci 
 
 * In tbe death of Dardinel, the simile of Virgil is beautifully 
 imitated by Ariosto : — 
 
 " Come purpureo fior languendo muore 
 Che '1 vomere al passar tagliato lassa ; 
 O come carco di soverchio umore 
 II papaver no 1' horto, il capo abbassa ; 
 Cosi giu de la faccia ogni colore 
 Cadendo, Dardinel di vita passa," &c. 
 
 Cant, xviii. 153. 
 
 As a further contrast, we might take the death of the Soldan's 
 page, Ger. Lib. ix. 86. So of Nisus throwing himself upon tbe body 
 of his friend, Mneid, ix. 444. Contrast also the death of Eunseus, 
 lb. xi. 668, with that of Camilla, in the same book. 
 
 Sallust thus describes finding tha body of Catiline :— " Longe a 
 suis inter hostium cadavera, paululum etiam spirans, ferociamque 
 animi quam habuerit vivus, in voltu retinens." 
 
DEATH. 
 
 169 
 
 the same kind ; in the death of Argante, for example, 
 there is a picture of ferocious impetuosity and savage 
 strength : — 
 
 " Infuriossi allor Tancredi et disse; 
 Cosi abusi, fellon, la pieta mia ? 
 Poi la spada gli fisse et gli refisse 
 ISJella visera, ove accerto la via. 
 Moriva Argante, e tal moria qual visse : 
 Minacciava morendo, e non languia ; 
 Superbi, formidabili, e feroci 
 Gli ultimi moti fur, V ultime voci." 
 
 Tasso, Ger. Lib. cant. xix. 26. 
 
 Sometimes, indeed, death may be represented unac- 
 companied by the horror with which it is commonly 
 associated. A young creature is seen in death, as if 
 asleep, with the beauty of countenance unobscured by 
 convulsion; the form remains, but the animation is 
 gone, and the colours of life have given place to the pale 
 tints of death. 
 
 " D' un bel pallore ha il bianco volto asperso, 
 Come a' gigli sarian miste viole. 
 
 In questa forma 
 
 Passa la bella donna, e par che dorma." 
 
 Tasso, Ger. Lib. cant. xii. 69 
 
 Again the same poet : — 
 
 " E quasi un ciel notturno, anco sereno 
 Senza splendor la faccia scolorata." 
 
 Or Petrarch : — 
 
 " Non come fiamma che per forza e spenta, 
 Ma che per se medesma si consume, 
 Se n' ando in pace V anima contenta : 
 A guisa di un soave e chiaro lume, 
 Cui nutrimento a poco a poco manca, 
 Tenendo al fin suo usato costume ; 
 Pallida no, ma piu che neve bianca, 
 Che senza vento in un bel colle fiocchi, 
 Parea posar come persona stanca. 
 
170 DEATH. 
 
 Quasi un dolce dormir ne' suoi begli occhi, 
 Essendo il spirto gia' da lei diviso, 
 Era quel cbe morir chiaman gli sciocchi. 
 
 Morte bella parea nel suo bel viso." 
 
 TrUmfo della Morte, 
 
 A man who has died in battle lies blanched and 
 very pale ; he has bled to death ; but one strangled, 
 smitten, or crusbed by some deadly contusion, has the 
 blood settled in his face. The following picture is truly 
 horrible from its truth and accuracy : — 
 
 " But, see, his face is black, and full of blood ; 
 His eyeballs further out than when he lived, 
 Staring full ghastly like a strangled man ; 
 His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling 5 
 His hands abroad displayed as one that grasp'd 
 And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdued. 
 Look on the sheets ; his hair, you see, is sticking ; 
 His well-proportion' d beard made rough and rugged, 
 Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodged. 
 It cannot be but he was murder'd here ; 
 The least of all these signs were probable." 
 
 King Henry VI. Part II. 
 
 The laws of inquest in England require such things 
 to be witnessed in all their appalling circumstances, 
 since the body lies where it falls, and no weapon or even 
 disorder of dress is removed. 
 
 Are such scenes to be painted? — Certainly not. The 
 impression may be conveyed to the spectator consis- 
 tently with good taste, and in a manner less obtrusive, 
 so as to awaken the sensations which should attend 
 them, without the detail of the actual scene. It may 
 be allowed in words, as Shakspeare has represented the 
 body of the good Duke Humphrey ; but in painting, 
 the representation becomes too palpable to admit the 
 whole features of horror. 
 
( 171 ) 
 
 ESSAY VI1L 
 
 OF EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY THE EMOTIONS 
 
 MODIFIED BY CONTROLLING EXPRESSION. 
 
 In the preceding essays, it has been shewn that the 
 oowerful passions influence the same class of nerves and 
 muscles which are affected in highly excited or anxious 
 breathing ; and it was inferred, that the apparatus of 
 respiration is the instrument by which the emotions 
 are manifested In fear or in grief, the movements of 
 the nostrils, the uncontrollable tremor of the lips, 
 the convulsions of the neck and chest, and the audible 
 sobbing, prove that the influence of the mind extends 
 over the organs of respiration ; so that the difference is 
 slight between the action of the frame in a paroxysm 
 of the passions and in the agony of a drowning 
 man. 
 
 Having traced the connection between the excitement 
 of the chest or trunk of the body and expression in the 
 face, we may for a moment turn our attention to the 
 consent between the breathing or expression of the body 
 generally, and the position of the limbs. Let us take 
 the instances by which we before illustrated the uni- 
 versal consent of the animal frame. When the tiger or 
 wolf is struck by the keeper, and suddenly roused to 
 ferocity and activity, the character is seen not only in 
 the glare of the eyes, the retraction of the lips, and the 
 
172 EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 
 
 harsh sound of the breath as it is forcibly drawn 
 through the confined throat, but every muscle is in 
 tension and the lips in an attitude of strained exertion, 
 prepared to spring. In this condition of high animal 
 excitement, observe the manner in which the chest is 
 kept distended and raised ; the inspiration is quick, the 
 expiration slow; and, as the keeper strikes the jaw, 
 there is at the same instant a start into exertion, and 
 the breath rapidly drawn in. The cause of this ex- 
 pansion of the chest is readily understood, when we 
 recollect that the muscles by which the limbs are exerted 
 have two extremities : one fixed, which is called the 
 origin ; the other moveable, which is called the insertion. 
 The muscles of the arms, in man, and of the forelegs, in 
 brutes, have their origins on the chest. To give power 
 to the further extremities or insertions of these muscles 
 into the limbs, the chest must be fixed : and, to give 
 them their fullest power, it must be raised and expanded, 
 as well as fixed. Hence that most terrible silence in 
 human conflict, when the outcry of terror or pain is 
 stifled in exertion ; for, during the struggle with the 
 arms, the chest must be expanded or in the act of rising, 
 and, therefore, the voice, which consists in the expul- 
 sion of the breath by the falling or compression of the 
 chest, is suppressed, and the muscles which perform the 
 office of raising and distending the chest, act in aid of 
 the muscles of the arms. The moment of alarm is also 
 that of flight or defence; the sudden and startled 
 exertion of the hands and arms is attended with a quick 
 inspiration and spasm of the mouth and throat, and the 
 first sound of fear is in drawing, not in expelling the 
 breath ; for at that instant to depress and contract the 
 chest would be to relax the muscles of the arms and 
 enfeeble their exertion. Or, to put the example in 
 another form, suppose two men wrestling in the dark 
 would not their voices convey to us the violence of their 
 
EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 173 
 
 efforts? The short exclamation choked in the act of 
 exertion, the feeble and stifled sounds of their breathing, 
 would let us know that they turned, and twisted, and 
 were in mortal strife. To an apt observer, two dogs 
 fighting might illustrate the subject. Su<h com- 
 binations of the muscular actions are not left to 
 the direction of our will, but are provided for in the 
 original constitution of the animal body : they are 
 instinctive motions. Yet, the principles of criticism 
 in these matters have been laid down with surprising 
 confidence by persons who had no knowledge of ana- 
 tomy, and whose curiosity had never been raised, to 
 inquire into the phenomena of their own emotions, 
 or of those they must have witnessed in others. 1 
 shall transcribe here a passage from an elegant and 
 ingenious critic, on which I shall freely make some 
 remarks. 
 
 " In like manner it is not with the agonies of a man, 
 writhing in the pangs of death, that we sympathise, on 
 beholding the celebrated group of Laocoon and his sons ; 
 for snch sympathies can only be painful and disgusting : 
 but it is with the energy and fortitude of mind which 
 those agonies call into action and display. For though 
 every feature and every muscle is convulsed" and every 
 nerve contracted, yet the breast is expanded and the 
 throat compressed, to show that he suffers in silence. 
 I therefore still maintain, in spite of the blind and 
 indiscriminate admiration, which pedantry always 
 shews for everything which bears the stamp of high 
 authority, that Virgil has debased the character, and 
 robbed it of all its sublimity and grandeur of expression 
 by making Laocoon roar like a hull ; and I think that ] 
 may safely affirm, that if any writer of tragedy were to 
 make any one personage of his drama to roar out in the 
 same manner, on being mortally wounded, the whole 
 audience would burst into laughter, how pathetic 
 
174 EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 
 
 soever the incidents might be that accompanied it. 
 Homer has been so sensible of this, that of the vast 
 number and variety of deaths, which he has described, 
 he has never made a single Greek cry out on receiving 
 a mortal wound."* 
 
 The criticism here is just, so far as the artist is 
 praised and the poet blamed ; but the critic has mis- 
 taken the ground of the praise and of the blame. It 
 appears strange that any one should philosophise on 
 such points and yet be ignorant of the most common 
 things in the structure of his own frame, and of 
 the facts most essential to just criticism in works of 
 art. What ideas can be conveyed, for example, by 
 tk the convulsion of a feature," and the " contraction 
 of a nerve " ? 
 
 The writer has had the impression, which all who 
 look on the statue must have, that Laocoon sutlers in 
 silence, that there is no outcry. But the aim of the 
 artist is mistaken. He did not mean to express " energy 
 and fortitude of mind," or, by " expanding the breast 
 and compressing the throat, to shew that he suffers 
 in silence." His design was to represent corporeal 
 exertion, the attitude and struggles of the body and of 
 the arms. The throat is inflated, the chest straining, 
 to give power to the muscles of the arms, while the 
 slightly parted lips show that no breath escapes ; or, at 
 most a low hollow groan.f He could not roar like a 
 
 * Mr. Payne Knight on Taste, p. 333. 
 
 f " IUe simul omnibus tendit divellere nodos, 
 Perfusus sanie vittas atr que veneno: 
 Clamores simul horrendos ad sidera tollit : 
 Qualis niugitus, fugit quum saucius aram 
 Taurus, et mcertam excussit cervice securim.'* 
 
 Mneid, Lib. ii. 1. 220. 
 
 " Virgilio ci rappresente Laocoonte in smanie e in muggite 
 come un toro ferito a morte; ma Agesendro seppe exprimere tutto 
 il dolore, senza cedere la bellezza." — Azara, p. 53. This is juct 
 the criticism of Mr. Payne Knight. 
 
EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 175 
 
 bull — he had not the power to push his breath out in 
 the very moment of the great exertion of his arms to 
 untwist the serpent which is coiled around him. It is 
 a mistake to suppose that the suppressed voice, and 
 the consent of the features with the exertion of the 
 frame, proceed from an effort of the mind to sustain 
 his pain in dignified silence ; for this condition of 
 the arms, chest, and face, are necessary parts of one 
 action. 
 
 The instant that the chest is depressed to vociferate 
 or bellow, the muscles arising from the ribs and inserted 
 into the arm-bones must be relaxed, and the exertion 
 of the arms becomes feeble. Again, in speaking or 
 exclaiming, a consent runs through all the respiratory 
 muscles ; those of the mouth and throat combine with 
 those which move the chest. Had the sculptor re- 
 presented Laocoon as if the sound flowed from his open 
 mouth, there would have been a strange inconsistency 
 with the elevated condition of his breast. Neither is it 
 correct to .suppose it possible that a man struck down 
 with a mortal wound, and rolling in the dust, like 
 Homer's ill-fated heroes, can roar out like a bull. A 
 mortal wound has an immediate influence on these vital 
 parts and respiratory organs, and the attempt to cry 
 alond would end in a feeble wail or groan. There is 
 no danger that the tragedian who follows nature should 
 offend the taste of an audience by actual outcry. But 
 these critics think it necessary to refine and go beyond 
 Nature, whereas the rule is to learn her ways, and to be 
 cautious of adding the slightest trait of expression, or 
 what we conceive to be such, to the simple, and because 
 simple, the grand character of natural action ; instead 
 of making the appeal more strongly to the senses, it is 
 sure to weaken it. 
 
 In the statue of David with his sling, there is an 
 attempt at expression which offends good taste, becauso 
 
176 EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 
 
 it is not true to nature. The artist has meant by the 
 biting of the lip to convey the idea of resolution and 
 energy. But that is an action intended to restrain 
 expression, to suppress an angry emotion which is rising 
 in the breast ; and if it be permitted, even in caricature, 
 it must be as a sign of some trifling inconvenience, 
 never of heroism. It is not suitable to the vigorous 
 tone which should pervade the whole frame. That 
 vigour cannot be otherwise represented, than by the 
 excitement of the breast, lips, and nostrils, while the 
 posture and the eyes give it a direction and meaning. 
 This is all destroyed by an expression so weak and 
 inconsistent as biting the lip ; it is vulgar, not 
 because it is common, but because it is a trick, and 
 not true to nature. 
 
 The " Dying Gladiator " is one of those masterpieces 
 of antiquity which exhibits a knowledge of anatomy 
 and of man's nature. He is not resting; he is not 
 falling ; but in the position of one wounded in the chest 
 tnd seeking relief in that anxious and oppressed breath- 
 ing which attends a mortal wound with loss of blood. 
 He seeks support to his arms, not to rest them or to 
 sustain the body, but to fix them, that their action may 
 be transferred to the chest, and thus assist the labouring 
 respiration. The nature of his sufferings leads to this 
 attitude. In a man expiring from loss of blood, as the 
 vital stream flows, the heart and lungs have the same 
 painful feeling of want, which is produced by obstruc- 
 tion to the breathing. As the blood is draining from 
 him, he pants, and looks wild, and the chest heaves 
 convulsively. And so the ancient artist has placed 
 this statue in the posture of one who suffers the 
 extremity of difficult respiration. The fixed condition 
 of the shoulders, as he sustains his sinking body, shews 
 that the powerful muscles, common to the ribs and 
 arms, have their action concentrated to ths struggling 
 
asthma rest his hands or his elbows upon a table, 
 \tooping forwards, that the shoulders may become 
 
 N 
 
178 EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 
 
 fixed points ; the muscles of the arm and shoulder 
 then act as muscles of respiration, and aid in the 
 motion of the chest, during the heaving and anxiety 
 which belong to the disease. 
 
 When a man is mortally wounded, and still more 
 if he be bleeding to death as the gladiator, he presents 
 the appearance of suffocation ; for the want is felt in 
 the breast, and relief is sought in the heaving of the 
 chest. If he have at that moment the sympathy and 
 aid of a friend, he will cling to him, half raising 
 himself and twisting his chest with the utmost exertion ; 
 and while every muscle of the trunk stands out abrupt 
 and prominent, those of the neck and throat, and 
 nostrils and mouth, will partake the excitement. In this 
 condition he will remain fixed, and then fall exhausted 
 with the exertion ; it is in the moment of the chest 
 sinking, that the voice of suffering may be heard. If 
 he have fallen on the turf, it is not from pain, but from 
 that indescribable agony of want and instinctive 
 struggling, that the grass around the lifeless body is 
 lodged and torn. 
 
 So too with the actor. In order to convey to the 
 spectator the idea of human nature agitated by passion or 
 suffering, he must study how the parts of the frame are 
 united and co-operate in expression. Of the success of 
 such an effort we had lately an example on our own stage. 
 It was in witnessing the struggles of a man who had 
 received the mortal thrust, and the representation was 
 hoiribly correct. The actor having rubbed the paint 
 from his face, presented a hollow cheek, with the 
 countenance haggard and pale ; but it was the 
 heaving of the shoulders attending his deep and 
 painful inspiration, — his difficult utterance, — the 
 gurgling of his voice, as if the blood impeded the 
 breath, which made altogether a most powerfully 
 drawn representation of violent death. Even those 
 
EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 179 
 
 who knew nothing of the cause of their being moved 
 felt that it was correct. 
 
 But let us take a less appalling instance of the 
 consent of the frame with the functions of the heart 
 and lungs. It is this connexion between the muscles of 
 the chest and arms which makes a little man oppressed 
 by obesity speak with abrupt gesticulation. His 
 emphatic words are forced out in barking tones 
 accompanied by jerks and twists of the arms, the 
 reverse of grace ; while a tall and ungainly person 
 exhibits an awkwardness of an opposite kind, in a 
 disjointed swing of his arms during the efforts of his 
 elocution. 
 
 Are we not now authorised to say, that expression is to 
 passion what language is to thought : that as without 
 words to represent ideas, the reasoning faculties of man 
 could not be fully exercised, so there could be no 
 violence or excess of passion merely in the mind, and 
 independent of the action of the body ? As our thoughts 
 are embodied and the reasoning powers developed by 
 the instrument of speech, the passions or emotions have 
 also a corresponding organ to give them a determined 
 character and force. The bodily frame, though second- 
 ary and inferior, comes in aid of the mind ; and the 
 faculties owe their development as much to the operation 
 of the instruments of expression as to the impressions 
 of the outward senses. 
 
 It is also curious that expression appears to precede 
 the intellectual operations. The smile that dimples an 
 infant's cheek, which in after-years corresponds with 
 pleasurable and complex emotions, cannot have its 
 origin from such ideas. This expression is not first 
 seen when the infant is awake, but oftener while asleep ; 
 and this first beam of pleasure to a mother's eye is met 
 with the cold observation of the wise old women, that 
 
 n 2 
 
180 EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 
 
 it is caused by some internal convulsion. They con- 
 clude that the child's intellects are not yet matured to 
 correspond with the expression, and attribute the effect 
 to some internal irritation. The expression is in fact 
 the spontaneous operation and classification of the 
 muscles, which await the development of the faculties 
 to accompany them closely when they do arise, and 
 in some measure to control them during life. It 
 may be too much to affirm, that without the co- 
 operation of these organs of the frame the mind would 
 remain a blank ; but surely the mind must owe 
 something to its connexion with an operation of the 
 features which precedes its own conscious activity, 
 and which is unerring in its exercise from the very 
 commencement. 
 
 The expression of pain in an infant is extraordinary 
 in force and caricature ; the expression of laughter is 
 pure in the highest possible degree, as indicating 
 unalloyed pleasure, and it will relax by sympathy even 
 the stubborn features of a stranger. Here the 
 rudiments of expression ought to be studied, for in 
 after-life they cease to have the pure and simple source 
 from which they spring in infancy ; the feelings are 
 composed and restrained, the mind is in a state of more 
 compound feeling, and the genuine characteristics of 
 passion are to be seen only in unpremeditated bursts 
 of great vehemence. 
 
 How much influence the instrument of expression 
 has in first rousing the mind into that state of activity 
 which we call passion or emotion, we may learn from 
 the power of the body to control these affections. " 1 
 have often observed," says Burke, " that on mimicking 
 the looks and gestures of angry, or placid, or frightened, 
 or daring men, I have involuntarily found my mind 
 turned to that passion whose appearance I endeavoured 
 to imitate." 
 
EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 1S1 
 
 Whether it be possible to mould the body, and thus 
 PC steal into another's thoughts, I know not ; but it is of 
 more consequence to recollect that we may in this way 
 ascertain our own. As the actions and expressions of 
 the body betray the emotions of the heart, we may be 
 startled and forewarned, as it were, by the reflection of 
 ourselves, and at the same time learn to control our 
 passions by restraining their expression. 
 
 As we hold our breath and throw ourselves into aa 
 opposite action to restrain the ludicrous idea which 
 would cause us to break out in rude laughter, so may 
 we moderate other rising impulses, by checking the 
 expression of them ; and by composing the body, we 
 put a rein upon our very thoughts. The powers of 
 language are so great, and minister in so superior a 
 manner to reason and the higher faculties of the mind, 
 that the language of expression, which attends the 
 development of these powers, is in a manner superseded ; 
 good taste and good manners retain it in habitual sub- 
 ordination. We esteem and honour that man most who 
 subdues the passions which directly refer to himself, 
 and cultivates those which have their source in bene- 
 volence — who resists his own gratification, and enters 
 warmly by sympathy into what others feel — who 
 despises direct pleasures, and cultivates those enjoyments 
 in which he participates with others. " Whatever is 
 morally just is beautiful in art;" the expression of pain, 
 proceeding from the mere suffering of the body, is 
 repulsive in representation, while the heroic pangs 
 which the artist may raise to the highest degree of 
 expression, in compassion or sympathy with another's 
 sufferings, cannot be too powerfully portrayed, if they 
 be consistent with nature and truth. 
 
 In studying expression the artist should attempt all, 
 even that which is disagreeable, so that in higher com- 
 position he may avoid deformity and every debasing 
 
182 expression in reference to the body. 
 
 expression, and this not by chance, but by knowing them 
 and avoiding them ; by this means — and it was followed 
 by the ancients — his power of representation will be 
 improved, and what is dignified and beautiful in form 
 and expression more certainly attained. 
 
< 183 ) 
 
 ESSAY IX. 
 
 Oy THE STUDY OF ANATOMY AS NECESSARY TO DESIGN, OP 
 THE IDEAL, IN THE REPRESENTATION OF THE BODY. OF 
 THE GENIUS AND STUDIES OF MICHAEL ANGELO BUONA- 
 ROTTI. 
 
 Were I to attempt a definition of the ideal in the repre- 
 sentation of the body, or of the head and face, I should 
 adopt, as the most harmless to the sculptor or painter, 
 that which has been given by Cicognara. " The ideal 
 in art," says he, 4 4 is nothing more than the imitation of 
 an object as it ought to be in perfect nature, divested of 
 the errors or distortions which secondary causes produce." 
 He takes for granted that man, like every thing else, 
 has degenerated from the original design of nature, and 
 " that we ought to endeavour to present his form as 
 when he rose a newly-created being, before misery and 
 famine, cold or excess of heat, had influence upon his 
 frame. To accomplish this, the artist has to contemplate 
 those acknowledged beauties in the Venus, in the youthful 
 Apollo, in the vigorous Athletse, and in the Hercules. 
 From such sources he m ist select the perfect forms, 
 which are now to be found no longer in nature, and 
 recompose them into a beautiful whole." 
 
 This is at least intelligible, and, to a certain degree 
 practicable. It divests the subject of that mystery 
 which those throw over it who would persuade the artist 
 that to represent perfection of form, he must avoid what 
 is human, and retain what is divine. 
 
184 
 
 OF DESIGN. 
 
 But, when this is attained, and the drawing of the 
 figure is unobjectionable, a higher object still is to be 
 found, in a deeper meditation on human nature. Senti- 
 ment and expression may be impressed on the figure, 
 as on the face ; but they must be made appropriate to 
 their situation. Some of the most beautiful remains of 
 Grecian art, when deposited in churches, appear out of 
 place ; while, in the same situation, the statues of Michael 
 Angelo seem perfectly congenial. The noble forms and 
 grave attitudes of his statues, in the sombre light of the 
 aisles, lead memory back to all that is great in times 
 gone by. Those magnificent designs have the effect 
 of a passage in the historian or the poet, when the 
 reader closes the book to indulge in the associations 
 of ideas which have been awakened. But, were they 
 placed in a gallery or saloon, they might with more 
 propriety be subjected to the flippant criticisms which 
 they have met with. 
 
 Individuals, as well as nations, have different manners 
 of representing the same objects, — the human figure, 
 for example. The Egyptians, the Greeks, the people 
 of Hindostan, or of Europe, will raise a monument 
 with more marked peculiarities than are seen even in 
 the designs of Michael Angelo, Correggio, and Kaphael ; 
 care, therefore, should be taken to give full scope to dif- 
 ferent dispositions, capacities, or tastes. I cannot help 
 saying, that the method of study in the academies tends 
 to cramp the efforts of genius. In the Academy of 
 Bologna I found the students copying from the plaster- 
 casts, as our youths do at home ; and if some means be 
 not afforded to encourage individual genius, tameness 
 and mediocrity must be the result. I think the remedy 
 is to be found in the study of anatomy. 
 
 There has been much unnecessary ingenuity exercised 
 on the question whether the ancients studied anatomy. 
 Undoubtedly they did not study it in our fashion ; yet 
 
OF 1 DESIGN. 
 
 185 
 
 that they possessed all the knowledge of it which art 
 requires, cannot be denied. The finer specimens of 
 ancient statuary evince a more perfect acquaintance 
 with anatomy, as far as it is shewn in the propor- 
 tions, general forms, and action of the body, than 
 the productions of those modern sculptors and painters 
 who have pursued this art with the greatest zeal and 
 success, — even than Michael Angelo himself. The 
 only question therefore is, how they acquired this 
 knowledge. 
 
 Although in Greece the dead were burned, and no 
 artists dissected the human body, yet they certainly had 
 the means of learning the nature of a bone, muscle, and 
 tendon. No more was necessary; the rest was before 
 them. Fine as their athletae were in youth, they were 
 subject to the decay of age. Now, in comparing the 
 frame of a man advanced in years, especially if in 
 early life he had been remarkable for "thews and 
 sinews," with the young and active, everything essential 
 to the painter and the sculptor may be observed. If the 
 Greeks had before them the most admired forms of youth 
 and manhood, they had also the " time honoured wrest- 
 ler," who in old age exhibited, almost as in the dead 
 anatomy, every muscle, origin and insertion, every ten- 
 don, and every vein. I know how far this manner of 
 demonstrating the anatomy may be carried. Having 
 in my lectures on surgery taken the living man, the 
 academy model, to illustrate the practice in fractures 
 and dislocations, I was accustomed to introduce a 
 powerful muscular fellow to my class, with this ap- 
 peal : — " In the exercise of your profession you have to 
 judge of the displacement of the limbs, and the joints 
 disfigured by dislocation, fractures, or tumour ; but not 
 one of you, perhaps, has ever looked on the natural 
 body itself." In giving these lessons, I became aware 
 how much of the structure of the muscles and 
 
186 
 
 OF THE GENIUS AND STUDIES OF 
 
 . articulations might be demonstrated without actual 
 
 dissection 
 
 In the heat of the southern countries of Europe, the 
 workmen, the Galeotti, or men condemned to the public 
 works, the young people and children, are all accustomed 
 to a state of nudity ; the naked form becomes, therefore, 
 familiar to the eye. 
 
 In the same day 1 made careful examinations of the 
 anatomical studies of Michael Angelo, in the collection 
 of the Grand Duke of Florence, and compared them 
 with his noble works in the tombs of the Medici. I 
 observed that he had avoided the error of artists of less 
 genius, who, in shewing their learning, deviate from 
 living nature. I recognised the utmost accuracy of 
 anatomy in the great artist's studies ; in his pen-and- 
 ink sketches of the knee, for example, every point of 
 bone, muscle, tendon, and ligament was marked, and 
 perhaps a little exaggerated. But on surveying the 
 limbs of those fine statues, this peculiarity was not 
 visible ; there were none of the details of the anatomy, 
 but only the effects of muscular action, as seen in life, 
 not the muscles. As, perhaps, this is the most im- 
 portant lesson which cm be given to the artist, I 
 shall venture to transcribe the notes I made at the 
 time. 
 
 " The statue of Lorenzo di Medici, Duca d'Urbino, 
 by Michael Angelo, is in the Capella di Principi, of 
 the church of St. Lorenzo. Under the statue are two 
 figures, one of Twilight, the other of Daybreak. I 
 observed in the male figure, which is of very grand 
 proportions, the clavicle or collar-bone, the head of the 
 humerus, the deltoid and pectoral muscles developed 
 beyond nature, yet singularly true in the anatomy 
 Such a shoulder was never seen in man, yet so finely is 
 it imagined, that no one part is unduly exaggerated ; but 
 all is magnified with so perfect a knowledge, that it is 
 
THE ANCIENT ARTISTS. 
 
 187 
 
 just as a whole, the bone and the muscle corresponding 
 in their proportions. In the same chapel are the statues 
 of Giuliano di Medici, Duke of Nemours, and brother 
 of Leo X., with the recumbent figures of Day and Night. 
 It is in these finely-conceived figures that we have the 
 proof of Michael Angelo's genius. They may not have 
 the perfect purity and truth that we see in the antique ; 
 but there is a magnificence, which belongs to him alone. 
 Here we see the effect of muscular action, without 
 affected display of anatomical knowledge. The back 
 is marvellously fine. The position of the scapula, for 
 example, makes its lower angle throw up the edge of 
 the latissimus dorsi, for the scapula is forced back upon 
 the spine, in consequence of the position of the arm. 
 Michael Angelo must have carefully studied the ana- 
 tomy in reference to the changes produced in the living 
 body by the action of its members : the shifting of the 
 scapula, with the consequent rising of the mass of 
 muscles, some in action, some merely pushed into masses, 
 are very finely shewn." * 
 
 Having just come from observing his sketches of the 
 anatomy of the knee-joint, I was curious in my observa- 
 tion of the manner in which he made his knowledge 
 available in the joints of these fine statues ; and they 
 gave rise to the following remarks. 
 
 "If an artist, with a knowledge of the structure, 
 look upon the knee in a bent position, he will recognise 
 the different bones and ligaments. But if he look upon 
 it in an extended position of the limb, or during exer- 
 tion, he will not distinguish the same parts. The 
 contour, the swelling of the integument, and the fulness 
 around the joint, are not produced by the forms of the 
 bones, but by the rising up of the parts displaced by 
 
 * I might make similar remarks on the statue by John of 
 Bologna — Januarius sitting, shivering under a shower, in a 
 fountain .n ihe Villa-Petraia, near Florence. 
 
188 
 
 ON THE GENIUS AND STUDIES OF 
 
 the new position of the bones. The fatty cushions 
 which are within and external to the knee-joint, and 
 which serve the purpose of friction -wheels in the play 
 of the bones upon each other, no longer occupy the 
 same relative places ; they are protruded from the 
 depth of the cavity to the surface. How well Michael 
 Angelo knew this these statues of Day and Night 
 evince. 
 
 " In these statues, great feeling of art and genius 
 of the highest order have been exhibited; anatomical 
 science, ideal beauty, or rather grandeur, combined. 
 It is often said that Michael Angelo studied the Belvi- 
 ere Torso, and that he kept it continually in his eye. 
 That fine specimen of ancient art may have been the 
 authority for his grand development of the human 
 muscles ; but it did not convey to him the effect which 
 he produced by the throwing out of those magnificent 
 and giant limbs. Here we see the vigour of this 
 sculptor's stroke and the firmness of his touch, as well 
 as his sublime conception of the human figure. We 
 can imagine that he wrought by no measure or me- 
 chanical contrivance ; that he hewed out the marble as 
 another would cast together his mass of clay in a first 
 sketch. Many of his finest works are left unfinished ; 
 it appears that he found the block of marble in some 
 instances too small, and left the design incomplete.* 
 
 * There is one unfinished production of Michael Angelo which 
 discloses his manner of working ; a statue of St. Matthew, begun 
 on a block of marble, so small, that it appears to have restrained 
 him. The figure is distorted, and he seems to have given up the 
 work before it was more than blocked out of the marble A 
 contemporary gives an interesting account of the energy which 
 possessed him while at work. " I have seen Michael Angelo, when 
 above sixty, and not very robust, make more fragments of the 
 marble fly off in a quarter of an hour than three vigorous young 
 sculptors would have done in an hour; and he worked with so 
 much impetuosity, and put such strength into his blows, that I 
 feared he would have broken the whole in pieces, for portions, the 
 8ize of three or four fin/*ers woie struck orT so near to the contoui 
 
MICHAEL ANGELO BUONAROTTI. 189 
 
 For my own part I feel that the finish and smoothness 
 of the marble is hardly consistent with the vigour of 
 Michael Angelo's conceptions ; and I should regret to 
 think that such a genius should have wasted an hour 
 in giving softness or polish to the surface. 
 
 " Who is there, modern or ancient, that would thus 
 voluntarily encounter all the difficulties of the art 
 and throw the human body into this position, or who 
 could throw the shoulder into this violent distortion, 
 and yet preserve the relations of the parts, of bone and 
 muscle, with such scientific exactness? We have in 
 this great master a proof of the manner in which 
 genius submits to labour, in order to attain perfection. 
 He must have undergone the severe toil of the ana- 
 tomist, to acquire such a power of design, which it was 
 hardly to be supposed could be sufficiently appreciated 
 then or now. 
 
 " Without denying the beauty or correctness of the 
 true Grecian productions of the chisel, they ought not 
 to be contrasted with the works of Michael Angelo to 
 his disadvantage. He had a noble conception of the 
 august form of man : to my thinking, superior to any- 
 thing exhibited in ancient sculpture. Visconti * im- 
 putes inferiority to Buonarotti ; and to confirm his 
 views, compares the antique statues restored by him, 
 with the limbs and heads which he added. But I can 
 conceive nothing less suited to the genius of the artist 
 than this task of modelling and adjusting a limb in a 
 different position from that which is entire, and yet so 
 as to preserve the proportions and character of the 
 whole. The manner of his working and the urgency 
 of his genius for an unrestrained field of exertion, 
 
 or outline, that, if he erred by a hair's-breadth, he would have 
 spoiled all and lost his labour, since the defect could not have been 
 remedied as in working in clay." — Blaise de Vigenere, 
 * Museo Pio. Clem. 
 
190 STUDIES OF MICHAEL ANGELO BUONAROTTI. 
 
 unfitted him for that kind of labour, while it is a 
 matter of necessity, that a copy shall be inferior to au 
 original. 
 
 44 What the figures of Night and Morning had to do 
 before the degenerate son of the Medici is another 
 matter. They seem to have been placed there as mere 
 ornaments, and in the luxury of talent, to give the 
 form and posture of the human figure, 4 per ornamento e 
 per solo spoggio di giacitura e de forme' 
 
 44 When in Eome I was impatient until I stood 
 before the statue of Moses, so much had been said 
 of its extraordinary merit,* and also so much of its 
 defects.j It is a noble figure, with all the energy 
 of Buonarotti displayed in it. It is not the ana- 
 tomy alone which constitutes its perfection; but 
 there is the same mind displayed in the attitude, the 
 habiliment, the beard, and all the accompaniments, 
 as in the vigour of the naked shoulders and arms. 
 It is the realisation of his high conception of the 
 human figure. 
 
 44 My brother, in his 4 Observations on Italy,' finds 
 fault with the arm, and, perhaps, looking in one 
 direction, it may be imperfect ; but this was one of 
 many figures which were intended by the artist to 
 ornament the great monument to Julius II. ; and, 
 consequently, designed to be seen only in a certain 
 aspect. if Besides, we ought rather to teach ourselves to 
 admire what is esteemed excellent than to seek for 
 defects. As to other criticisms on this statue, it should 
 be remembered that it is an ideal figure as much as the 
 Apollo or the Jupiter. From whatever notion derived, 
 Moses is represented with horns rising from his temples ; 
 
 * " Questo e Mose quando scenda del monte 
 E gran parte del Nume avea nel volto." 
 f " E una testa da satiro con capelli di porco." 
 % See the account of this great work in the <4 Storia della 
 Scultura," by Cicognara. 
 
ON THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE MUSCLES. 191 
 
 an adjunct which, placed either on the face of the 
 antique or of common nature, would have been truly 
 ndiculous." 
 
 To resume the subject of anatomy, we may take the 
 opinion of Vasari :* in addition to the study of the an- 
 tique he recommends the frequent examination of the 
 naked figure, of the action of the muscles of the back 
 and limbs, and the form and play of the joints ; and 
 takes occasion to advise the study of the dissected body, 
 in order to see the true position of the muscles, theii 
 classification and insertions ; so that by perfect know- 
 ledge of the structure the artist may with more secu- 
 rity represent the figure in every varying attitude, 
 bestowing, through a knowledge of their action, the 
 proper swelling and contour of the muscles, according 
 to their position and the force exerted ; and from this, 
 he truly observes, comes the power of invention, giving 
 natural variety to the figures, as in the representation 
 of a battle or great historical work. 
 
 And here I cannot help expressing a belief that, as 
 it is necessary that the young artist should have an 
 accurate eye to form, the drawing of the bones should 
 be substituted for what is called the " round," that 
 is, the fine indefinite and undulating surface of the 
 antique. By drawing the curious shapes of the thigh- 
 bone or tibia, he will sooner acquire a notion of external 
 form than if set to draw a foot and ankle, or knee 
 without an idea of what produces the convexities which 
 he is tracing. Drawing from the bones and from the 
 skeleton will give him a desire for learning more, and 
 afford an introduction to the classification and insertions 
 of the muscles, with perfect ease in representing, either 
 from nature or the antique, the slightly defined forms 
 Df the joints. 
 
 But, as we have seen in the works of the masters, let 
 * hi his Preface, " Da che habbia origine il buon disegno." 
 
192 ON THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE MUSCLES. 
 
 him avoid exhibiting the anatomy or displaying his 
 knowledge, else he will fall into the caricature of 
 iuseli, instead of attaining the vigour of Buona- 
 rotti. Anatomy is not to be displayed, but its true 
 use is to beget an accurate observation of nature 
 in those slighter characteristics which escape a less 
 learned eye. 
 
( 193 ) 
 
 ESSAY X. 
 
 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER — FAULTS INTO WHICH 
 ARTISTS MAY BE BETRAYED IN STUDYING THE ANTIQUE 
 OR IN DRAWING FROM THE ACADEMY FIGURE — ANATOMI 
 AS CONDUCTING TO TRUTH OF EXPRESSION AND OF CHA- 
 RACTER. 
 
 It is interesting in a very high degree to mark the 
 traits of emotion, and to compare them with the 
 anatomical structure ; and amidst the severer studies of 
 anatomy, as connected with health and disease, I have 
 been able, without departing too far from professional 
 pursuits and duties, to pass many pleasant hours in 
 observing and investigating the anatomy of expression. 
 In the prosecution of anatomy we never know to what 
 results it may lead. The observations I have made on 
 the nervous system might be traced to investigations 
 on the present subject. I saw that the whole frame is 
 affected sympathetically with expression in the coun- 
 tenance ; and it was in trying to explain that sympathy, 
 that I was led to ascertain, that there exists in the body 
 a distinct system of nerves, the office of which is to 
 influence the muscles in Kespiration, in Speech, and in 
 Expression. 
 
 The study of the animal frame, as it is affected by 
 emotion and passion, is nearly related to philosophy, 
 and is a subject of great difficulty and delicacy. The 
 question is often discussed, of what use is anatomy to 
 the painter ? The study of anatomy has been objected 
 to by some persons of pure taste, and from the belief 
 
 
 
194 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 
 
 that it leads to the representation of the lineaments of 
 death more than of life, or to monstrous exaggerations 
 of forms. So far this is the case, when an artist 
 without natural talent, or right feeling, will rather 
 exhibit the bones or muscles than the fine forms of 
 health and vigour. But we return to the question, 
 what are the advantages to be gained from this study 
 by the artist ? As we may define anatomy to be the 
 examination of that structure by which the mind 
 expresses emotion, and through which the emotions are 
 controlled and modified, it introduces us to the know- 
 ledge of the relations and mutual influences which exist 
 between the mind and the body. To the painter, 
 therefore, the study is necessarily one of great import- 
 ance ; it does not teach him to use his pencil, but it 
 teaches him to observe nature, to see forms in their 
 minute varieties, which but for the principles here 
 elucidated would pass unnoticed, — to catch expressions 
 so evanescent that they must escape him, did he not 
 know their sources. It is this reducing of things to 
 their principles which elevates his art into a connexion 
 with philosophy, and which gives it the character of a 
 liberal art. 
 
 By anatomy in its relation to the arts of design, 1 
 understand not merely the study of the individual and 
 dissected muscles of the face, or body, or limbs, — but 
 the observation of all the characteristic varieties which 
 distinguish the frame of the body or countenance. A 
 knowledge of the peculiarities of infancy, youth, or age ; 
 of sickness or robust health ; or of the contrasts between 
 manly and muscular strength and feminine delicacy ; 
 Dr of the appearances which pain or death present, 
 belongs to its province as much as the study of the 
 muscles of the face when affected m emotion. Viewed 
 in this comprehensive light, anatomy forms a science, 
 not only of great interest, but one which will be sure to 
 
USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 195 
 
 give the artist a true spirit of observation, teach, him to 
 distinguish what is essential to just expression, and 
 direct his attention to appearances on which the effect 
 and force, as well as the delicacy of his delineations, 
 will be found to depend. 
 
 Among the errors into which a young artist is most 
 likely to be seduced, there are two against which the 
 study of anatomy seems well calculated to guard him. 
 The one is a blind and indiscriminate imitation of the 
 antique ; the other, an idea that he will find in the 
 academy figure a sure guide for delineating the natural 
 and true anatomy of the living body. He who makes 
 imitation of the antique the beginning and end of his 
 studies, instead of adopting it as a corrective of his 
 taste, will be apt to fall into a tame and lifeless style ; 
 and, in pursuing ideal beauty, will be in danger of 
 renouncing truth of expression and of character. Nay, 
 I suspect that many painters have copied casts of the 
 antique for years, without perfectly understanding 
 what they should imitate, or even perceiving the neces- 
 sity of previously studying the design of the artist, 01 
 the peculiarities of his mode of composition. Into this 
 fault, one who is learned in the science and anatomy of 
 painting can never fall. But he who has not compared 
 the natural with the antique head, nor understood the 
 characteristic differences, nor studied the principle on 
 which the ancient artists composed, may be betrayed 
 into the grossest misconceptions, by too implicitly 
 following their models. In painting a hero, for ex- 
 ample, on whom the Greek artist would have bestowed 
 a character of strength and grandeur, by bold anatomy 
 and expression, he may be following the ideal form of a 
 deity in which the sculptor had studiously divested his 
 model of all that might seem to pertain to humanity. 
 As I have before remarked, the ancient sculptor, in 
 accordance with the mythology of his country and the 
 
 o 2 
 
196 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PA1JSTER. 
 
 spirit of her poetry, studied to shew the attributes of 
 divinity in the repose of the figure, without any indi- 
 cation of muscles or veins, and by a face stamped with 
 the mild serenity of a being superior to human passion ; 
 thus shadowing out a state of existence, in which the 
 will possessed freedom and activity, without the ac- 
 companying exertion of the bodily frame. But those 
 ideal forms are scarcely ever to be transferred to the 
 representation of the human body ; and a modern artist 
 who follows indiscriminately such models, misapplies 
 the noblest lessons of his art. 
 
 Independently of the ideal form of divinity, there are 
 also some peculiarities in the nature of the ancient 
 sculpture which ought to be well considered by the 
 student in modern painting. 
 
 In the infancy of their art, sculptors did not venture 
 to give to their figures either animation or character ; 
 they did not even open their eyelids, or raise the arm 
 from the side. A stillness and simplicity of composition 
 were thus the characteristics of ancient sculpture ; and 
 we are told that Pericles, even in the best period of 
 Grecian art, was anxious that his pupils should preserve 
 this feature of the early ages in all their works, as 
 essential to grandeur. The pleasure of being carried 
 back to old times seems to be a part of our nature, or, 
 at least, of the cultivated mind. So Pliny speaks of 
 retaining in everything about a villa its ancient sim- 
 plicity. It is observed accordingly, that among the 
 excellencies which distinguish the Greek artists, the 
 first and most admirable is that gravity of style, — that 
 sedate grandeur of expression, and prevailing tranquillity 
 of soul which still appear under the most terribl agita- 
 tion and passion. Upon this chaste model the taste in 
 sculpture was formed in the better ages of Greece and 
 Eome, and its influence has extended to modern times. 
 
 Unfortunately this style of composition has beer. 
 
USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. l[/7 
 
 taken as an additional authority for rejecting powerful 
 expression and character even from the canvass. But, 
 we must never forget the distinction between sculpture 
 and painting. The sculptor, indeed, as well as the 
 painter, has often to represent what is not consistent 
 with beauty ; while both must sometimes preserve 
 an indefiniteness, and soften all the harsher, though 
 strictly natural lines of expression. If the statues of 
 Michael Angelo and John of Bologna were as familiar 
 to us as the casts of the antique, they would probably 
 modify the prevailing opinions on this subject. Still 
 there is an essential difference between the principle 
 of composition in painting and in sculpture. 
 
 In the works of ancient artists we see a perpetual 
 effort to exalt their productions above the commonness 
 of nature. They studied a grand and general effect, 
 avoiding the representation of minuteness or sharpness 
 of feature, and of convulsions or distortions, however 
 strictly natural ; and, indeed, it is scarcely consistent 
 with the character of a statue to represent the transitory 
 effects of violent passion. The sculptor must exercise 
 his genius on the more sublime and permanent feelings, 
 as characterised in the countenance and figure ; and 
 much of the difficulty of his art consists in preventing 
 the repose which ought to be preserved in the attitude 
 and expression, from extinguishing all character, and 
 degenerating into tameness and indifference. 
 
 It is repose, and not absence of expression, that is to 
 be aimed at. The flashes of passion do not assort with 
 the material, while the languor and the gloom of the 
 features in grief are quite consistent with it. The 
 slaves and mutes on the pedestal of a monumental 
 statue may contribute to the effect ; they are mere 
 accessories, — as the frame to the picture. But this 
 principle does not apply to the painter ; to transfer to 
 his art the rules of composition ^hich flow from the 
 
198 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAJNTEB. 
 
 study of ancient sculpture would endanger all in which 
 it is most excellent. As his materials do not permit a 
 close imitation of the actual forms of nature, a stronger, 
 and more natural character is to be adopted on the 
 canvass, than is proper to a statue. It is true, that he 
 may often maintain much of the same gravity of style 
 as the statuary, and that, in such compositions there 
 may be a certain august majesty ; some subjects require 
 this, and others only admit of it, provided the tone and 
 principle of composition be preserved, and the colouring 
 be low and sombre. In general, however, this is neither 
 accessary, nor perhaps suitable to a picture ; and it may 
 oe at least laid down, that where there is bold light and 
 vivid colouring, there should also be strong expression, 
 and bold characteristic drawing. A painting, with high 
 finishing and bright colouring, demands minute ex- 
 pression, because the same circumstances which display 
 the natural colour, bring out a clear disclosure of the 
 parts, and a sharpness of expression in the features. 
 
 Thus the painter must study the traits of human 
 expression. The noblest aim of painting is unquestion- 
 ably to affect the mind, which can only be done by the 
 representation of sentiment and passion, — of emotion as 
 indicated by the figure and the countenance. But if it 
 be contended that an imposing stillness and tranquillity 
 must pervade the higher subjects of painting, I venture 
 to affirm that it is a tranquillity which he can never 
 attain who is not capable of representing all the violence 
 and agitation of passion. It is not such repose as 
 the artist who has despised or neglected natural cha- 
 racter may be able to represent, but such as he alone 
 can conceive and execute, who has studied all the 
 variety of expression, and learned the anatomy of the 
 face and limbs in their most violent action. Nay, 
 tranquillity or repose in the strict sense of the words, 
 can only be truly represented by one who can with 
 
USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 199 
 
 equal facility give energy to the features and figure ; 
 for in rest there must be character, and thai character 
 will best be expressed by him who has studied the 
 effect of the action of the muscles. It ought also to be 
 remembered that repose and agitation must ever greatly 
 depend on contrast and opposition. There are few 
 grand subjects in history or mythology, in which the 
 tranquillity and higher beauty of expression in the 
 main figure does not borrow some aid from the contrast 
 of the harsher features, more marked characters, and 
 more passionate gestures of the surrounding groups. 
 
 Perhaps I have sufficiently pointed out how dangerous 
 it is for one who aims at excelling as a painter to imi- 
 tate too closely and indiscriminately the productions of 
 ancient sculpture. But it is natural for the student to 
 believe that the study of the academy figure may serve 
 as a guard against all such danger ; and afford him a sure 
 criterion for judging of the anatomy of his figures. 
 
 Where is the artist to find the principles of his art 
 when he desires to express mental suffering under all 
 those influences which form the subjects of design in 
 the higher departments of art, and especially in historical 
 painting ; is he to grimace at himself in a mirror ? — 
 then he falls into caricature : is he to study the 
 expression of the actor? — then he represents what is 
 fantastic and theatrical. For what may be correct 
 representation on the stage is not correct in painting, 
 any more than it would be correct for the tragedian to 
 display on the stage those traits of expression with which 
 the physician is alone supposed to be familiar. Powers 
 of observation, cultivated by good taste, lead us to dis- 
 tinguish what is appropriate. The physician in study- 
 ing symptoms, the actor in personifying suffering, the 
 painter in representing it, or the statuary in embodying 
 it in marble, are observers of nature ; but each sees her 
 differently, and with a feeling influenced by his pursui t. 
 
200 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 
 
 The study of the academy figure is, undoubtedly, essen- 
 tial ; but unless followed with some regard to science, 
 it necessarily leads to error. In the first place, it can 
 give no aid in reference to the countenance. Here 
 the lessons of anatomy, associated with the descrip- 
 tions of the great poets, and the study of the works 
 of eminent painters and sculptors, afford the only re- 
 source, But even for attaining a correct knowledge of 
 the body and limbs, the academy figure is far from being 
 an infallible guide. The display of muscular action in 
 the human figure is but momentary, and cannot be 
 retained and fixed for the imitation of the artist. The 
 effect produced upon the surface of the body and limbs 
 by the action of the muscles —the swelling and receding 
 of the fleshy parts, and that starting out of the sinews 
 or tendons, which accompany exertion or change of 
 posture, cannot be observed with sufficient accuracy, 
 unless the artist is able to class the muscles engaged in 
 the action ; and he requires some other guide to enable 
 him to recollect these varying forms, than that which 
 is afforded by a transitory view of them. 
 
 When the academy figure first strips himself, there is 
 a symmetry and accordance in all the limbs ; but when 
 screwed up into a posture, they indicate constraint and 
 want of balance. It cannot be supposed that when 
 a man has the support of ropes to preserve him in a 
 position of exertion, the same action of muscles can be 
 displayed as if the limbs were supported by their own 
 efforts ; hence in all academy drawings we may perceive 
 something wrong from the ropes not being represented 
 along with the figure. In natural action there is a 
 consent and symmetry in every part. When a man 
 clenches his fist in passion, the other arm does not lie 
 in elegant relaxation ; when the face is stern and 
 vindictive, there is energy in the whole frame ; when a 
 man rises from his seat in impassioned gesture, a certain 
 tension and straining pervades every limb and feature. 
 
USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 201 
 
 This universal state of the body it is difficult to excite 
 in those who are accustomed to sit to painters ; they 
 watch his eye, and where they see him intent, they 
 exert the muscles. The painter, therefore, cannot 
 trust to the man throwing himself into a natural 
 posture; he must direct him, and be himself able to 
 catch, as it were intuitively, what is natural and 
 reject what is constrained. Besides, those soldiers and 
 mechanics who are employed as academy figures are 
 often awkward and un wieldly ; hard labour, or the stiff 
 habits of military training, have impaired the natural 
 and easy motion of their joints. 
 
 Until the artist has gained a perfect knowledge of the 
 muscles, and is able to represent them in action without 
 losing the general balance of the figuie, he is apt to 
 produce an appearance like spasm or cramp in the limbs, 
 from one part being in action, while the other is in 
 repose. For it is always to be remembered, that whether 
 the body be alive or dead, whether the limbs be in action 
 or relaxed in sleep, an uniform character must pervade 
 the composition. Whether the gently undulating line 
 of relaxed muscle be the prevailing outline, or the parts 
 be large and strong, and the muscles prominent, bold and 
 turgid, there must be perfect accordance, or there will 
 be no truth of expression. 
 
 I think, that in the sketches, and even in the finished 
 paintings of some artists, I have observed the effect of 
 continuing to draw from the model or from the naked 
 figure, without due attention to the regulated action of 
 the muscles. I have seen paintings, where the grouping 
 was excellent and the proportions exact, yet the figures 
 stood in attitudes when they were meant to be in 
 action ; they were fixed as statues, and communicated 
 to the spectator no idea of exertion or of motion. This 
 sometimes proceeds, I have no doubt, from a long- 
 continued contemplation of the antique, but more fre- 
 quently from drawing after the still and spiritless 
 
202 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 
 
 academy figure. The knowledge of anatomy is neces- 
 sary to correct this ; but chiefly, a familiar acquaintance 
 with the classification of the muscles, and the pecu- 
 liarities and effect of their action. 
 
 The true use of the living figure is this ; — after the 
 artist has studied the structure of the bones and the 
 groupings of the muscles, he should observe attentively 
 the play of the muscles and tendons when the body is 
 thrown into action and attitudes of violent exertion ; — 
 he should especially mark their changes during the 
 striking out of the limbs. By such a course of ob- 
 servation he will soon be able to distinguish between 
 posture and action, and to avoid that tameness which 
 results from neglecting the effects of the alternate 
 contraction and relaxation of the muscles. And with 
 this view, after having learned to draw the figure, the 
 painter would do well to make the model go through 
 the exercise of pitching the bar, or throwing, or striking. 
 ^Te will then find that it is chiefly when straining in a 
 fixed posture that there is a general tension and equal 
 prominence of the muscles ; and that in the free actions 
 of the limbs, a few muscles only swell out, while their 
 opponents are relaxed and flattened. He will not, 
 perhaps, be able at once to catch the character of 
 muscular expression, and commit it to paper ; but 
 having an accurate knowledge of the muscles, according 
 to their uses, and the effect of each action in calling 
 particular sets of them into activity, knowing to what 
 points his observation should be applied, and how his 
 preconceived notions are to be corrected by the actual 
 appearance of the limb, each succeeding exhibition of 
 muscular exertion will advance his progress in the 
 delineation of the figure. Hence it may well be said, 
 that anatomy is the true basis of the arts of design ; 
 and it will infallibly lead those to perfection who, 
 favoured with genius, can combine truth and simplicity 
 with the higher graces and charms of the art. It 
 
USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 203 
 
 bestows on the painter a minuteness and readiness of 
 observation, which he cannot otherwise attain ; and I am 
 persuaded, that while it enables him to give vigour 
 to the whole form, it teaches him to represent niceties 
 of expression, which would otherwise pass unnoticed. 
 
 Even in drawing from a particular model, the artist 
 versed in anatomy has a great superiority. When I have 
 seen one unacquainted with the internal structure, 
 drawing from the naked figure or from a statue, I have 
 remarked the difficulty which he experienced in shewing 
 the course of a swelling muscle or the slight depressions 
 and convexities about a joint ; and this difficulty might 
 be traced to his ignorance of the relations and actions 
 of the muscles. The same perplexity he often feels in 
 drawing the knobbed ends of the bones or the insertions 
 of the tendons, at the articulations : for these parts 
 being covered over by the integuments, and cushions of 
 fat of variable thickness, and sheathed in membranes, 
 are but faintly marked on the surface. The delicate 
 and less definite indications of the anatomy, though 
 easily traced by one acquainted with the structure of 
 the limb, appear to the uninformed only unmeaning 
 variations in the outline ; he has no means of judging 
 their importance, and he is subject to continual mistakes 
 in attempting to imitate them. 
 
 Suppose that a young artist, not previously grounded 
 in anatomy, is about to sketch a figure or a limb, his 
 execution will be feeble, and he will commit many 
 errors if he endeavour merely to copy what is placed 
 before him — to transcribe, as it were, a language which 
 he does not understand. He sees an undulating surface, 
 with the bones and processes of the joints faintly 
 marked ; he neglects the peculiar swelling of the 
 muscles, to which he should give force, as implying 
 motion ; he makes roundings merely ; he is incapable of 
 representing the elegant curved outline of beauty, with 
 decision and accuracy, and of preserving at the same 
 
204 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 
 
 time the characters of living action. Drawing what he 
 does not understand, he falls into tameness or deviates 
 into caricature. 
 
 But with a knowledge of anatomy, if he attempt the 
 Bame task, his acquaintance with the skeleton will 
 enable him to make his first outline of the figure with 
 truth and ease, and preserve its various proportions ; 
 and the study of the muscles will enable him to give force 
 to the muscular parts, and to represent the joints 
 accurately without exaggeration. 
 
 It is, however, in composing, much more than in 
 copying, that this knowledge is truly useful Without 
 it, all the original efforts of genius must be checked and 
 repressed. Every change of posture is accompanied by 
 muscular action, and in proportion to the painter's ignor- 
 ance of the cause of those changes, all his designs will 
 be cramped and restrained. Leonardo da Vinci gives 
 formally as a precept, what is self-evident to an ana- 
 tomist: " In naked figures, those members must show 
 their muscles most distinctly and boldly, upon which the 
 greatest stress is laid ; in comparison with which the 
 rest must appear enervate." " Eemember, further, to 
 make the muscles most visible on that side of any member 
 which it puts forward to action." Such rules and precepts 
 are rather the result of anatomical study than useful to 
 one ignorant of the subject, in pointing out how effect is 
 to be produced. It is not by following such recom- 
 mendations that the end is to be accomplished, but by 
 enriching the mind with frequent observation of the 
 changes which are displayed by action, and forming 
 rules for their representation. For example, in vigorous 
 action there is a general tension of the whole frame ; 
 but in order to produce a particular motion, a certain 
 class of muscles is brought into stronger action than the 
 rest ; and the nature of the motion is expressed by 
 marking the arrangement of the muscles. If a man be 
 merely pointing upwards a graceful simplicity may be 
 
TJSTCS OF ANATOMY TO THE TAINTEK. 205 
 
 all that the painter can attain, or should attempt ; but 
 if he is bringing down a heavy sword to make a blow, 
 the muscles will start into strong exertion, and the 
 idea of mighty action will be conveyed by repre- 
 senting those swelling muscles of the chest which pull 
 down the arm and give the sweep to the whole body. 
 Thus, to compose with truth and force, it is necessary 
 that the painter should not only know the place and 
 form of the bones and muscles, but that he should also 
 have an accurate conception of the classing of the 
 muscles in action.* 
 
 Perhaps I may best convey my idea oi the advantage 
 to be derived from this study, by contrasting two young 
 artists drawing from a figure ; the one trusting to his 
 untutored genius, the other assisted by a knowledge of 
 anatomy. The first is seen copying bit by bit, and 
 
 * " Socrates one day paid a visit to Clito, the statuary, and in 
 the course of conversation said to him, ' We ail know, Clito, that 
 you execute a variety of figures ; some in the attitude of the race, 
 and others in the several exercises of wrestling, of pugilism, and of 
 the pancratium ; but with regard to the quality which particularly 
 captivates the soul of the spectator, — I mean their correct resem- 
 blance to the life, — how is this property wrought into your pro- 
 ductions ? ' As Clito hesitated for a reply, Socrates quickly rejoins, 
 'Is it not by endeavouring to imitate the configuration of the 
 bodies of those who are actually engaged in those exertions of skill 
 and activity that you succeed?' ' Without doubt,' said the artist. 
 * Well, then,' resumed the philosopher, ' you study, under the various 
 gestures and attitudes of the living body, what parts are drawn 
 up out of their natural situation, or carried in a contrary direction 
 below it. Some which undergo compression, others an unnatural 
 elevation ; some which are thrown into a state of extension, others 
 which become relaxed ; all this you imitate, and hence you produce 
 that fidelity, that accuracy, which we admire.' The artist ac- 
 quiesced in the remark. 'And the expression of the passions, 
 again,— how great a pleasure does this produce to the spectator! 
 ' Surely,' replied Clito. 4 Thus those who are in the actual conflict 
 of the battle, are they not to be repiesented as bearing menaces in 
 their eyes, while satisfaction and joy should sit upon the coun- 
 tenances of the victorious ? ' * Unquestionably.' * It is then 
 equally the business of the statuary to transfuse into his pro- 
 ductions the workings and emotions of the mind.'" — Xenophon: 
 Memorabilia, Lib. iii. cap. x. p. 6. 
 
206 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 
 
 measuring from point to point ; and the effect, aftel 
 much labour, is an accurate outline. The other seizes 
 the chief characters of the attitude with facility ; be- 
 cause his knowledge of the skeleton has enabled him to 
 balance the trunk upon the limbs, and give the con- 
 tours boldly. The turn of the limbs, the masses cf 
 muscle, and the general forms of the joints, are touched 
 with a slight but accurate hand, and the spirit and life 
 of the original are recognised at once. Even in the 
 early stage of his drawing, while his rival is copying 
 parts, he will present the foundation of a correct and 
 spirited sketch ; as he can convey the general idea by 
 a few lines, he also excels in finishing the minute 
 parts. 
 
 But this superiority is still better shewn if the model 
 be removed from these two young painters, and they 
 draw the figure from recollection ; or if, keeping the 
 model before them in its original posture, they are 
 required to alter the attitude. Let us take for example 
 the fighting gladiator. Instead of a young warrior 
 pushing on with great energy, let their task be to 
 represent him receiving the blow of his antagonist, 
 which forces down his shield upon his breast, or brings 
 him with his knee to the ground, as it is beautifully 
 represented on some medals. Can we doubt for a mo- 
 ment which will excel ? The one will copy from memory 
 his original drawing, or with great difficulty twist the 
 erect limbs of the statue into a couching posture, while 
 the other will gain by his greater freedom. Eetaining 
 the general air, like one who had understood what he 
 copied, he is aware that a new class of muscles comes 
 into action, while those formerly in exertion are relaxed ; 
 he knows that the bending of the limbs increases their 
 measurements ; he knows how to represent the joints in 
 their new postures ; in short, he gives to his figure 
 energy and effect. 
 
 It is a mistake to suppose that, because in many of 
 
USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 207 
 
 the finest pictures the anatomy is but faintly indicated, 
 the study may not be necessary to a painter. Even 
 that which in the linished picture is intended merely 
 to give the idea of muscular exertion, should have its 
 foundation laid in the sketch, by a correct and strong 
 drawing of the full action. It is true, that the sketch 
 is too often a mere indication of the painter's design, 
 intended to be worked up to the truth of representation 
 as he transfers it to the canvas, — that the outlines of 
 the figures are rather shadowy forms, undefined in their 
 minute parts, than studies of anatomical expression, or 
 as guides in the subsequent labour. And, perhaps, it 
 is for this reason that there have been many painters, 
 whose sketches all admire, but whose finished paintings 
 fall short of public expectation. But a sketch that is 
 without vigour, and in which the anatomy has not been 
 defined, is a bad foundation for a good picture ; and 
 even a little exaggeration in this respect is not only 
 agreeable, but highly useful. The anatomy should be 
 strongly marked in the original design ; and from the 
 dead colouring to the finishing, its harshness and rugged- 
 ness should be gradually softened into the modesty of 
 nature. The character of a sketch is spirit and life ; 
 the finished painting must combine smoothness and 
 accuracy. That which was a harsh outline in the 
 sketch, or the strong marking of a swelling muscle, or 
 the crossing of a vein, will be indicated in the finished 
 composition, perhaps only by a tinge of colour. The 
 anatomy of the finished picture will always be most 
 successful, and even most delicate, where the painter 
 has a clear conception of the course and swelling of 
 each muscle and vein which enters into the delineation 
 of the action. 
 
 While artists neglect the study of anatomy, as con- 
 nected with character and expression in painting, they 
 never can attain the " vantage ground " of their pro- 
 fession. Perhaps it is also to be feared, that while 
 
208 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 
 
 only a few artists are versed in this science, they will 
 be apt to caricature nature ; they are learned above their 
 rivals ; it is their forte, and they are solicitous to display 
 it. But were the study of anatomy more general, the 
 same spirit and love of originality, which tempt them to 
 a style bordering on deformity, would make those very 
 men seek distinction by combining grace, and the other 
 qualities of fine painting, with truth and expression. 
 
 It is not enough, however, that the painter should 
 improve himself in the knowledge of anatomy : public 
 attention must also be directed to its importance. For 
 as necessity precedes invention in the origin of the 
 arts, so must general good taste precede or accompany 
 their improvement. The mere conviction in the mind 
 of the painter, that anatomy is essential to the per- 
 fection of his art, will seldom be sufficient to insure his 
 application to a very difficult and somewhat repulsive 
 study. The knowledge and opinion of the public must 
 force him to the task, and encourage his labour by the 
 assurance of its merited reward. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 ON 
 
 THE NERVOUS SYSTEM, 
 
 BY 
 
 ALEXANDER SHAW. 
 
 In many parts of this work references are made to an Essay 
 upon the Nervous System ; and the last edition contained such 
 an essay. But on examining the copy intended for the present 
 °dition, it was found that the author had drawn his pen through 
 the essay, and had not composed another to supply its place, 
 it cannot be doubted that he intended to reconstruct that part 
 of the work ; and as some account of his observations on the 
 Nervous System, which bear upon the questions discussed in 
 the volume, may be interesting, I have been requested to give a 
 short review of his opinions. I enter upon the task with rnuct 
 diffidence. 
 
 It is stated, in various parts of the essays, that a distinct Class 
 of Nerves is provided, in the human body, for controlling th<2 
 organ of Respiration ; and that it is that class which is prin- 
 cipally affected by passion and emotion, so as to give rise to the 
 phenomena of Expression. 
 
 In Man, the organ of Breathing is constructed in such a 
 manner, that besides ministering to the oxygenation of the blood, 
 its primary office in the economy, it is the instrument of Voice 
 and of Expression, — two properties which bear relation to his 
 Intellectual nature. In order to adapt the organ to these endow 
 
 P 
 
210 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 merits, it is necessary that the mechanism should have a form 
 and arrangement distinct from that in the lower animals, where 
 it serves for purifying the blood alone : and as a correspondence 
 always exists between the structure of the moving parts of the 
 frame, and the nervous system, which regulates their actions, 
 the change in the construction of the organ is accompanied with 
 a change in the arrangement of the nerves. Accordingly, by 
 comparing the nervous system in the inferior animals, with its 
 order and distribution in man, the author found that a distinct 
 class of nerves is appropriated, in the human frame, to the ornan 
 of Eespiration : and to that class he gave the name Respiratory 
 Nerves. 
 
 But that conclusion was not arrived at till many other impor- 
 tant observations had been previously made on the functions of 
 the Nervous System. Medical science has been indebted to the 
 author of this volume for improvements in our knowledge of the 
 Nerves, only to be compared, for their extent and value, with 
 those introduced by Harvey, by his discovery of the Circulation 
 of the Blood. Although no parts of the living body have excited 
 greater interest, since anatomy was first studied, than the Brain 
 and the Nerves ; yet when Sir Charles Bell entered upon his 
 researches into the subject, he found it involved in so much 
 3onfusion, and surrounded by so many difficulties apparently in- 
 surmountable, that physiologists had almost ceased to prosecute 
 it. Errors on points which bore on the first elements of the 
 inquiry, had taken deep root. He succeeded in removing these 
 errors, and in establishing a new principle of investigation. By 
 adopting that principle as his guide, he was rewarded not only by 
 making discoveries of the utmost value to medicine, but by com- 
 municating a fresh impulse to the labours of other physiologists 
 in the same field. 
 
 The error which formerly prevailed, and had the greatest 
 effect in retarding improvement, was this : — It was taken for 
 granted that all parts of the nervous system had certain general 
 properties belonging to them in common ; so that all were 
 considered alike in function. The Brain, including the Spinal 
 Marrow, was looked upon as a common store, from which 
 certain powers, such as that of motion, were issued to the body, 
 and into which others, such as sensation, were received, the 
 nerves being regarded as the conductors; and, in conformity 
 
OF THE NEBVES. 
 
 211 
 
 with that view, it was further supposed that any part of the 
 brain, or any single nerve, had equal power with all the rest of 
 bestowing the numerous properties commonly assigned to the 
 nervous system. For the sake of illustration, let us take the 
 nerves of the lower extremities ; which come off from the spinal 
 marrow. It was conceived that these nerves were all simple 
 in structure ; and that, nevertheless, they had the double pro- 
 perty of conveying the power of motion and of sensation, to the 
 limbs : and the spinal marrow, being regarded as a prolongation 
 of the Brain, was believed to transmit the powers of motion and 
 of sensation along the nerves, by all its parts promiscuously. 
 
 Certain facts probably diverted the minds of physiologists 
 from perceiving the correct views. When we examine the 
 structure of a Nerve, it is found to consist of a number of 
 distinct fibrils, like threads, laid parallel, connected loosely 
 together, and contained in a common sheath ; and when the 
 fibrils are inspected narrowly it is impossible to perceive any 
 difference between them ; ail are exactly alike in size, colour, 
 and consistence. This similarity of structure, it may be sup- 
 posed, would lead to the inference, that the functions of the 
 fibrils were the same. Then, as to the Brain; although sub- 
 divided into several masses of different forms and textures, 
 which give the appearance at first sight of its being composed of 
 separate organs, yet a remarkable uniformity prevails in the 
 general structure of the brain ; the distinct substances of which 
 it consists (the medullary and cineritious) are so variously inter- 
 mingled and diffused, that it seems unavoidable to conclude that 
 its powers are held in common, and are exercised by a combined 
 operation of all its component parts. Again, the phenomena of 
 certain diseases and accidents would probably give strength to 
 the mistaken views. When a person is wounded in the leg, and 
 a principal nerve cut across, the lower part of the limb, isolated 
 from the brain, is deprived both of motion and sensation. If 
 the spinal marrow be crushed, or disorganised by disease, so 
 that the communication between the brain and the nerves 
 beyond the seat of injury, is destroyed, total paralysis ensues, 
 that is, the limbs lose both motion and sensation. When a 
 man is struck down by apoplexy, owing to sudden effusion of 
 blood into the brain from a ruptured vessel, he is deprived in- 
 stantaneously of both motion and Sensation, These occurrences, 
 
 p 2 
 
212 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 ifcei w ith daily, would naturally lead to the belief that sensation 
 and motion were inseparably united in all the different forma 
 of the nervous system ; and when it was imagined that two such 
 distinct functions could belong to the same rjart, it would not 
 be inconsistent to believe that other powers could be combined 
 with them. 
 
 Bu^, Sir Charles Bell had not long commenced his investiga- 
 tions, when it occurred to him that it was contrary to reason to 
 suppose that two functions so essentially distinct from each other 
 as motion and sensation, could belong to the same nerve. Let 
 us consider the direction in which, the nervous agency which 
 gives rise to motion, must necessarily be conveyed along a nerve 
 to produce muscular contraction. As the volition originates in 
 the brain, and the force, whatever it is, which acts upon the 
 nerve must be propagated to the muscle, it is obvious that the 
 force will proceed outwardly or centrifugal] y. But when a. 
 sensation is felt, as the effect must be produced by an impression 
 being made upon the extremity of the nerve expanded on the 
 skin, and by that being conveyed to the sensorium, it follows 
 that the course of the nervous agency must be inwardly, or 
 centripetally. Hence the force which, causes muscular contrac- 
 tion passes along a nerve in one direction, and that which causes 
 sensation in a contrary direction : and it is inconsistent to suppose 
 that the same nerve, or same portion of the nervous centres, 
 could minister to both functions at once. 
 
 The fundamental principle of the author's discoveries was 
 originally announced in nearly the following terms : — The nerves 
 of the body possess distinct and appropriate functions, corre- 
 sponding with the parts of the brain and spinal marrow with 
 which they are connected at their roots; and when a nerve* 
 which appears simple, is found to bestow more than one endow- 
 ment, it is a sign that that nerve has more than one origin from 
 the brain, and consists in reality of several nerves joined together. 
 
 The mode by which this principle was demonstrated and 
 established to be a law in physiology, was as follows : — 
 
 The author first directed attention to the nerves of the Organa 
 of the Senses. These nerves were formerly conceived to be so 
 closely allied to each other, that their functions were regarded 
 rather as modifications of one common property, than as distinct 
 and specific. Thus it was supposed that the nerve of one organ 
 
OF THE NERVES. 
 
 213 
 
 of sense coiiKt be the substitute for the nerve of another, if 
 transposed to that organ. For example, it was believed that the 
 optic nerve, on which vision depends, could bestow sensation 
 or pain like a nerve of the skin ; and vice versa. Bu t the author 
 proved these opinions to be incorrect. He showed that each 
 nerve of sense is limited to receiving a distinct and appropriate 
 impression ; that the nerve of vision can only give ideas of light 
 and colour ;* the nerve of hearing, impressions of sound ; the 
 nerve of smelling, the perception of odours ; and so on. He 
 further showed that these special properties depended on each of 
 the nerves of sense having its root in a distinct portion of the 
 brain, provided for receiving its own peculiar impression. Thi3 
 fact could not be easily demonstrated by referring to the human 
 brain alone, where, owing to the organs of sense and the in- 
 tellectual capacities related to them, having reached their 
 highest point of development, the structure is very complex ; but 
 it could be satisfactorily made out with the assistance of com- 
 parative anatomy. When we examine the inferior classes of 
 animals, it is not found that those lowest in the scale possess 
 the same number of organs of sense which belong to the higher; 
 on the contrary, the organs are bestowed gradually, one after 
 another, in correspondence with the progressive advancement of 
 the creatures in the scale of animal existence. As new organs 
 are added, appropriate nerves appear, which communicate with 
 the central part of the nervous system, analogous to the brain, 
 of the animal, That elementary brain consists, at first, of mere 
 swellings, or accumulations of nervous substance, called " gan- 
 glions," collected about the mouth: and it is observed that, 
 according as additional organs of sense, with their nerves, are 
 
 * He illustrated that fact in the following manner. Pressure 
 applied to the surface of the eye, between the eyelids, gives ri.-e to 
 pain more acute than that felt in the skin generally, but still of a 
 similar kind ; a sense of touch. But pressure applied to the side 
 of the eye, so as to affect the retina within, produces the appearance 
 of a halo of variously coloured light before the eye, or a totally 
 different kind of sense from touch. In couching for cataract, the 
 needle, when piercing the outer part of the eye, gives rise to pain, 
 — to a sensation like that of pricking the skin; when it enters 
 more deeply and transfixes the retina, it gives rise to an appear- 
 ance like that of a spark of fire ; that is, a sense of light and colour, 
 quite different from touch. 
 
214 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 introduced, new ganglions make their appearance : for the pur- 
 pose, as it is reasonably concluded, of ministering to the new 
 species of sense conferred on the animal. In proportion as the 
 organization approaches in resemblance to that of man, the gan- 
 glions enlarge, coalesce, and become changed in form, so as to be 
 distinguished with difficulty from each other: but they continue 
 even in the highest animals, to be called after the organs of sense 
 over which they are supposed to preside : hence they get the 
 names of Optic ganglions or lobes, Olfactory lobes. Auditory 
 lobes, &c. That was the first step taken by the author, to show 
 that the nerves possess distinct functions ; and that they obtain 
 these from being connected with subdivisions of the brain, which 
 have also distinct endowments. 
 
 The next stage in his progress was marked by more striking 
 results. His object was now to explain how the nerves, known 
 to bestow Motor power and Sensation conjointly, are endowed 
 with that double property. 
 
 It may here be stated, that by far the greatest number of the 
 nerves which supply the body generally, arise from the Spinal 
 Marrow. Now, the way in which he proceeded to ascertain the 
 source of the double power possessed by the spinal nerves, was 
 this. He took one of them, for example, a nerve of the arm ; 
 and tracing it from the arm tow 7 ards its origin in the spinal 
 marrow, he observed that as it approached that organ, it sub- 
 divided into two parts, called its roots — and that one of the roots 
 entered a division of nervous substance, distinct from the other ; 
 one root being further distinguished by having a swelling upon 
 it termed a ganglion. 
 
 That such was the mode of origin of all tbe spinal nerves, had 
 long been well known to anatomists; yet no physiological con- 
 clusion had been drawn from it. But, following the principle 
 which guided him in his researches, the author was led to suppose 
 that roots, which thus proceeded from distinct portions of the 
 spinal marrow, would possess distinct endowments. He there- 
 fore inferred, that one of the roots might be that w r hich gave 
 motion, while the other might be that which gave sensatio?i ; and, 
 assuming this view to be correct, he further supposed, that the 
 reason why a spinal nerve possessed both motion and sensation 
 was, that the nerve was in reality double, being compounded of 
 fibrils from two distinct roots. 
 
OF THE NEIiVESs. 
 
 215 
 
 Accordingly, he proceeded to verify his opinion by experiments 
 made directly upon the roots of the spinal nerves, and also by 
 observations and experiments on nerves of the Brain, some of 
 which resemble the spinal nerves in structure, while others differ 
 from them. Following that course of investigation, he proved by 
 indisputable evidence, — that the root which passes to the posterior 
 division of the spinal marrow, and has a ganglion upon it, bestows 
 sensation alone ; and that the root which goes to the anterior 
 divisien, gives motion alone. Thus he established, for the first 
 time, the important fact, that nerves of Sensation are distinct 
 from those of Motion. 
 
 It has just been stated, that the author had recourse to observa- 
 tions and experiments on the nerves of the Brain, to assist him 
 in drawing his conclusions as to the distinct functions of the 
 roots of the spinal nerves : I may therefore describe shortly the 
 results of his inquiries into the distinction between the motor 
 and sensitive nerves of that organ. 
 
 With one exception, all the nerves which arise from the Brain 
 and issue from the skull to supply different parts of the Head, 
 instead of having, like the spinal nerves, double roots, have 
 single roots. A series of these single-rooted nerves arise in a 
 continuous line from a prolongation in the brain of that division 
 or tract of the spinal marrow, which gives off the anterior or 
 motor roots of the spinal nerves. 
 
 The nerve which forms the exception, is the " Fifth " nerve as 
 it is termed. Previous to the author's investigations, the anatomy 
 of the roots of that nerve, although correctly described in some 
 works, had attracted no particular interest; and the most 
 important points connected with it were commonly passed over 
 unnoticed. The author observed that the Fifth is singular 
 among the nerves of the Brain, in having double roots, like the 
 nerves of the Spinal Marrow ; and that while one root arises from 
 the continued tract of the spinal marrow which gives off the 
 motor roots, the other on which, as in the posterior roots of the 
 spinal nerves, a ganglion is formed, penetrates to a considerable 
 depth, in order tc arise from the tract which sends off the 
 posterior, or sensitive roots. 
 
 First, in regard to the experiments on nerves which arise by 
 single roots from the brain. The nerve first selected to illustrate 
 the functions of that series, was the one which passes to the 
 
216 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 Tongue, and is called the Ninth. Arising from the division of 
 the spinal marrow which givt s off the anterior roots, just as that 
 division begins to unite with the brain, or at the top of the spinal 
 marrow, the Ninth cerebral nerve may be regarded, in its ana- 
 tomical structure, as an anterior root of a spinal nerve, not 
 joined by any posterior root. The nerve having come off in that 
 manner, passes out immediately, through an appropriate hole 
 in the base of the skull, and without being joined by the fibrils 
 of any other nerve, is distributed to the Tongue. It is remarked 
 that in its passage to the tongue, it avoids going to the surface, 
 endowed with sensibility ; and exhausts all its branches in sup- 
 plying the various muscles which move the organ. When this 
 nerve was cut across in experiment, it was found that the tongue 
 was instantaneously deprived of the power of motion : but the 
 sensibility was unimpaired. It was accordingly proved that as 
 the Ninth resembles the anterior roots of the spinal nerves in its 
 mode of origin, it resembles them in function, and is exclusively 
 a Motor nerve. 
 
 Next, in regard to the experiments on the Fifth nerve. It will 
 be understood from the Plan, that although this nerve resembles 
 the spinal nerves, in the general structure of its roots, one of them, 
 the ganglionic (corresponding with the posterior spinal roots), is 
 greatly larger than the root without a ganglion. It may also be 
 seen, that shortly after its origin, the whole nerve subdivides into 
 three great trunks, which ramify over the entire head ; and that 
 the smaller root joins only one of the trunks, called the third or 
 inferior maxillary, which supplies the lower part of the face, and 
 the muscles of the jaws. Hence the first and second great branches 
 are simple in structure, being formed entirely of fibrils from the 
 larger, or ganglionic, root ; while the third is in part compound, 
 from containing fibrils of the lesser root. 
 
 Referring to Plate IV., it may be observed that two large 
 branches, one above and the other below the orbit, marked re- 
 spectively I. and II., issue from the bones of the face to go to 
 parts already abundantly supplied by another nerve, the ponio 
 dura : these are branches, as may be seen in the Plan, of the 
 first two trunks of the fifth, derived from the ganglionic root 
 alone. Now it was found that when these branches, called the 
 supra-orbitary and mfra-orbitary nerves, were exposed in a 
 living animal, it gave the most acute pain to prick or squeeze 
 
OF THE SERVES. 217 
 
 them : and when they were cut across, the whole surface of the 
 
 face to which they are sent, was deprived instantaneously of 
 sensation ; so entirely was sensation destroyed that the skin 
 
2x8 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 could be cut or pinched without the animal being conscious of 
 the injury — without its wincing; and yet the motion of the 
 parts was perfectly retained. Again, when the third or inferior 
 maxillary trunk, composed of the two roots conjoined, was 
 similarly exposed, and cut across above the point of union, pain 
 was experienced in the operation, and the parts to which it is 
 sent were deprived of sensation; but an additional effect was 
 produced — the muscles of the jaws, to which the fibrils of the 
 smaller root go, were paralysed. Hence the conclusion was 
 obvious, that the larger root of the fifth nerve is endowed with 
 Sensation, and the smaller with Motion ; and that is only where 
 fibrils of the two roots are combined, that the nerve can give both 
 properties at once. Hence, also, confirmation was given to the 
 deductions drawn from the experiments on the roots of the Spinal 
 nerves ; the root of the Fifth cerebral nerve, analogous in structure 
 to the posterior roots of the spinal nerves, having been shewn to 
 bestow Sensation, it was an additional proof that the function of 
 the posterior spinal roots was to confer Sensation : and the root 
 of the Fifth, analogous to the anterior roots of the spinal nerves, 
 having been shewn to bestow Motion, it was an additional proof 
 that the function of the anterior spinal roots w T as to confer Motion. 
 
 The author next selected for experiment another nerve, which 
 springs from a different part of the brain from the ninth or 
 fifth, — the Facial nerve, or Portio Dura. This nerve arises by 
 a simple root, and, without mixing its fibrils with those of any 
 other, appears externally before the ear, as represented by A in 
 Plate IV. and is distributed to the face. It had been hitherto 
 believed that the portio dura was capable of bestowing both 
 motion and sensation. But the author proved that this nerve 
 was limited to giving motor power. By making a small incision 
 through the skin, not larger than that for bleeding, he exposed 
 the nerve in a monkey, — an animal which he considered better 
 adapted than any other for the experiment, owing to the well- 
 known mobility and activity of its features : when the nerve 
 was laid bare and cut, the motions of the corresponding side of 
 the countenance were at once and entirely extinguished ; but the 
 sensibility was unimpaired. It was even observed, as an addi- 
 tional proof that sensation does not depend upon the portio dura, 
 that the animal manifested no signs of pain during the act ol 
 cutting it through, or pinching it. 
 
OF THE NERVES. 
 
 2L9 
 
 It will be admitted that the facts and reasoning now brought 
 forward, were sufficient alone to establish the truth of the general 
 proposition — That nerves of Sensation are distinct from nerves ei 
 Motion : and that to different parts of the Brain and Spinal 
 Marrow, belong distinct and appropriate endowments. But addi- 
 tional proofs of a still more convincing and interesting kind were 
 soon obtained, by observing the effects of disease in the nervous 
 system of Man himself. Numerous cases early presented them- 
 selves where morbid changes in the structure of the Brain, Spinal 
 Marrow, or Boots of the nerves, in man, gave rise to phenomena 
 similar to those which follow experiments on the lower animals.* 
 
 For example, tumours sometimes grow within the vertebral 
 canal, where the spinal marrow is lodged, and develop them- 
 selves in such a manner as to destroy one set of the roots of the 
 spinal nerves, without involving the other ; in these cases, only 
 one function of the nerves is lost : if the anterior roots be 
 affected, there is loss of motion ; if the posterior, there is loss of 
 sensation ; and the patient is in the singular condition of having 
 feeling in the limb, although he cannot move it : or he may be 
 able to move it and have no feeling. Cases of a similar kind 
 were met with more frequently in the face. Owing to the portio 
 dura, and fifth nerve, which supply the face, arising from parts of 
 the brain at a distance from each other, and the one taking a 
 circuitous course apart from the other, disease often affects one 
 nerve and destroys its function, without reaching the other. In 
 such cases, where the portio dura is affected, the muscles of the 
 face are deprived of motion ; the patient can no longer knit his 
 brows, close his eyelids, inflate his nostril, or hold anything 
 between his lips ; expression is entirely lost, and, owing to the 
 muscles of the sound side dragging the paralysed cheek and lip 
 towards them, the face is distorted ; but there is no diminution 
 of sensibility in the half of the face, thus completely deprived of 
 motion. f But when the branches of the fifth nerve, w T hich 
 
 * The cases referred to were recorded chiefly by the author's 
 zealous assistant in these pursuits, Mr. John Shaw. 
 
 t And it may be added, that no pain attends the loss of function. 
 Patients are seldom aware of their face having become paralysed, 
 until told by a trend, or it has been observed by themselves, in the 
 mirror. That is, the nerve, although formerly conceived to l>e 
 one of the most exquisitely sensitive parts of the body, undergoes * 
 
£20 
 
 OF THE NLRVES. 
 
 emerge upon the face, and arise from the larger root alrne, are 
 affected, sensation is entirely lost, while motion is unimpaired. 
 For example, the surface of the eye, supplied by superficial 
 branches of the fifth, and a part so exquisitely sensible that if a 
 fine hair touches it there will be severe pain and spasm of the 
 eyelids, may, when the nerve is destroyed, be rudely pressed 
 with the finger, and the patient will nevertheless be unconscious 
 of pain ; or if the surface be inflamed,* and it be necessary to 
 scarify it with the point of the lancet, in order to withdraw 
 blood, the patient will submit to the operation without pain, 
 and without even winking, although the eyelids retain their 
 power of closing, through the portio dura. It is from a morbid 
 condition of one or other of the branches of the fifth that the 
 excruciating paroxysms of pain in that dreadful disorder, tic 
 douloureux, are produced. Should the disease which affects the 
 nerve be situated close to its origin, so as to include both roots, 
 then motion will be lost, as well as sensation ; besides, all the 
 surfaces of the head which are supplied by the larger, sensitive 
 root, being deprived of sensation, the muscles of the jaws 
 supplied by the lesser root will be paralyzed : so that the patient, 
 in eating, will neither be sensible of the presence of the food in 
 the affected side of his mouth, nor be able to chew it. 
 
 From such examples as the above, some idea may be formed 
 of the benefits conferred upon medical science by the discoveries 
 in the nervous system thus shortly described. While it con- 
 process of disorganization sufficient to deprive it of its function, and 
 yet the patient suffers no pain. This is accounted for by the portio 
 dura being simply a nerve of motion, and having no power of 
 bestowing sensation, or of giving pain, 
 
 * Loss of sensation in the eye, from disease affecting the ophthalmic 
 branches of the fifth, is often followed by inflammation, which ter- 
 minates in the destruction of the organ. This is caused by the eye 
 having been deprived of its important guardian, the sensibility, 
 which induces not only winking, but other efforts, to protect the 
 tender surface from injury; dust, and other irritating particles, 
 lodge beneath the eyelids, and without causing pain, set up in- 
 flammatory action. Cases are sometimes met with, where the 
 surface of the eye has lost sensation, but where (owing to another 
 nerve, the third, being also affected) the upper eyelid has per- 
 manently dropped, so as to cover the eye, and defend it from 
 injury : in these cases, inflammation does not occur, and the eye 
 preserves its transparency. 
 
OF THE NERVES. 
 
 221 
 
 tinued to be believed that every nerve, from whatever part it 
 came, had the same kind of functions, and that the different 
 divisions of the brain and spinal marrow were alike, it followed 
 that, when a case occurred of partial loss of sensation or of motion 
 in any part of the body, the physician was led to conclude that 
 disease had commenced in the brain ; and his treatment was 
 conducted on that supposition. But when it was proved that 
 the nerves had distinct endowments, it was readily understood 
 that the partial loss whether of motion or sensation, might 
 depend on an affection of the nerves after they had Lft the brain, 
 and were external to the skull, and consequently, that instead of 
 the symptoms indicating a serious, or perhaps fatal disease of the 
 brain, they might point to a comparatively harmless disorder. 
 In short, the knowledge now acquired of the nervous system 
 lends, every day, the most valuable aid to the practitioner; it 
 gives him means, not formerly in his power, of exploring disease, 
 and of tracing it along to the precise spot where it is situated. 
 
 On the Classification of the Nerves into the " Original" and 
 " Respiratory " Systems. 
 
 When the author had established the existence of the impor- 
 tant distinctions between the nerves of the cerebro-spinal system,* 
 just pointed out, it soon became apparent that other questions 
 remained to be solved concerning them. Having been led, in 
 following the principle of his researches, to view the different 
 modes in which the nerves arise from distinct subdivisions of the 
 central organs, as indicating a diversity of function, he was 
 forcibly struck by observing certain distinctions in the origins 
 and mode of distribution of particular groups of nerves. With 
 the object of ascertaining whether these anatomical differences 
 pointed to further differences of function, he proceeded, first, to 
 
 * The cerebrospinal nerves include all those which arise from 
 the Brain and Spinal Marrow. They are so called in contra- 
 distinction to the "Sympathetic" system, which consists of a 
 series of nerves and ganglions distributed tc the viscera of the 
 chest and abdomen, and in many important p. ints differing from 
 them. 
 
222 
 
 0F THE NERVES. 
 
 examine the various parts of the body to which the nerves thug 
 coming from distinct divisions of the brain and spinal marrow, 
 are sent ; and, then, to compare the actions and uses of the part* 
 with each other. 
 
 When we take a general survey of the nerves of the human 
 body (excluding, for the present, the nerves of the Organs of the 
 Senses, and the Sympathetic system), it is remarked, that there 
 is one extensive series — so large that it embraces nearly all the 
 nerves together — distinguished by the regularity and symmetry 
 with which they are given off and pass to their destinations : 
 while there is another series, arising from a different part of the 
 nervous centres, remarkable for their partial and irregular dis- 
 tribution. 
 
 The first class consists principally of the Spinal Nerves. 
 Passing off from the whole length of the Spinal Marrow, at 
 intervals of about an inch from each other, these nerves go in 
 regular succession to the back of the head, the neck, the upper 
 extremities, the whole trunk, and the lower extremities ; and as 
 each nerve is composed of two roots, one for motion and the 
 other sensation, they bestow these double properties wherever 
 they are sent. To this extensive series must be added the 
 Fifth cerebral nerve, which both in structure and function, as 
 it has been already shown, is a spinal nerve ; by its larger root it 
 confers sensation on all parts of the head not supplied by the 
 superior spinal nerves ; and by its lesser root it gives the power 
 of motion to a limited set of muscles, viz. those by which 
 mastication is performed. 
 
 As to the second class, they arise near the point of union ot 
 the brain and spinal marrow, from a comparatively circumscribed 
 portion of cerebral structure ; the tract or division of nervous 
 substance from which they originate, is distinct from either ol 
 those which give off the roots of the spinal nerves and fifth 
 cerebral nerve ; and in passing out to the body, they course in a 
 radiating manner to parts of the head, neck, and chest, where 
 nerves of the former class are already plentifully distributed. 
 When we examine the structures thus supplied, we perceive that 
 they enter into the formation of the organ of Respiration. 
 
 Consequently, a question was here presented for solution — 
 What is the particular character of the organs superintended 
 by the first class, which distinguishes them from the organ of 
 
OF THE NERVES. 
 
 223 
 
 Breathing supplied by a different class ; or that will account for 
 the former organs being supplied by a series of nerves so regular 
 in their origins and distribution, and so widely extended, as the 
 spinal nerves and fifth cerebral nerve ; while the respiratory 
 organ is provided with an appropriate set of nerves, comparatively 
 few in number, and differing in several anatomical features from 
 the others ? 
 
 To solve that problem, the author found it necessary to call 
 in the aid of comparative anatomy, and to take a general survey 
 of the nervous system as it is presented in the whole animal 
 kingdom. First : it is known that in all living animals, from 
 the lowest to the highest, an analogy exists in the structure of 
 their bodies ; so that Man, and all animals below him, have 
 certain organs in common. That being the case, the author 
 expected to find that in the nervous system, which controls 
 those organs, there would be a corresponding commonness of 
 character visible in the whole animal kingdom. But again, as, 
 in the various organs composing the body, a gradual process of 
 development takes place, so that the organization of each rises 
 in perfection in proportion as animals ascend in the scale ; and 
 as, in some particular parts, the mechanism undergoes material 
 changes, giving rise to quite a new arrangement of the structures, 
 he thought it reasonable to expect that corresponding modifica- 
 tions would be introduced into the nervous system, to adapt it 
 to the new construction of such parts. 
 
 Proceeding on that view, he was led to observe that the 
 numerous members of the body which are supplied by the spinal 
 nerves and fifth cerebral nerve, form together a system, which, 
 as regards the uses they serve in the economy, presents a re- 
 markable uniformity through the whole animal kingdom , while 
 in the organ of Respiration supplied by the other set of nerves, 
 a striking difference in that respect exists ; the apparatus of 
 Breathing, in the lowest animals, is applied exclusively to 
 oxygenating the Blood ; its mechanism is adapted to no other 
 office : but in the higher animals, although it continues to execute 
 that necessary function of purifying the blood, it has a new and 
 iistinct office superadded to it ; the mechanism is altered and 
 arranged in such a manner as to adapt it to be the organ of Voice; 
 and in Man it is besides the essential part of the organ of Speech 
 and Expression. 
 
224 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 Hence, the author was led to conclude: — First, That the class 
 ot spinal nerves and fifth cerebral nerve represents in Man a 
 system which exists, under different phases, in every animal, and 
 he called it the " Original*' class : Secondly, That the nerves of 
 the organ of Respiration are a new system, introduced in corre- 
 spondence with changes which take place in the structure of that 
 organ, in the course of its development, to adapt it to Man's 
 intellectual nature, and he called them the " Superadded," or 
 " Respiratory " class. 
 
 To give a full exposition of the grounds on which the above 
 classification is founded, would occupy more space than my limits 
 allow. But I may point out briefly some of the leading facts 01 
 which it is based. 
 
 First, as to the statement, That the spinal nerves and fifth 
 cerebral nerve, called the " Original " class, superintend organs 
 common to the lowest animals and Man, — it is necessary, in 
 order to judge of its correctness, to inquire, What organs are 
 possessed alike by Man and all the inferior animals ? 
 
 To give the most comprehensive answer to that question, the 
 best mode is to consider — Which are the organs that distinguish 
 a member of the Animal kingdom from a member of the Vege- 
 table kingdom ? By thus going to the bottom of the scale of 
 living beings, and observing what instruments are essential for 
 the existence of the animal of simplest structure, as well as of 
 Man, and then taking into view the nerves required for con- 
 trolling such parts, we shall arrive at a knowledge of the nervous 
 system in its " Original," or least developed condition ; and by 
 tracing both the organs and the nerves upwards to Man, we shall 
 be able to judge of the persistence of the class, through the whole 
 animal kingdom. 
 
 Now, when we compare Animals and Vegetables together, we 
 find that they are not so distantly related to each other as might 
 at first be thought. Indeed, some animals, living on the confines 
 oetween the two kingdoms, bear such a close resemblance to 
 plants, and plants to animals, that zoologists often meet with 
 difficulties in deciding whose subjects they are. But if we take 
 a general principle for oar guidance, and disregard these approxi- 
 mations, (for in the works of Nature there are no sudden, 
 trenchant divisions,— she never arranges the objects of creation 
 in squares, circles, or parallelograms ; but proceeds, even in he* 
 
OF THE NERVES. 
 
 225 
 
 progress from the inorganic to the organic world, by slow, 
 uniform gradations), we shall find that the Animal possesses 
 organs essentially distinct from the Vegetable. 
 
 The organs common to the vegetable and animal, are those 
 connected, with the nourishment, growth, and reproduction of the 
 structures. Thus, a plant imbibes nutritious matters from the 
 earth : circulates that matter, as sap, along the branches and 
 leaves ; the sap is subject to a process of purification similar to 
 that effected upon the blood of animals, by the lungs ; it has, 
 besides, organs, like secreting glands, for eliminating various 
 substances from the sap. All those organs are analogous to 
 the parts in the animal frame which serve for digestion, assimila- 
 tion, oxygenation of the blood, secretion, excretion, &e. It is 
 not, therefore, among them, that we look for distinctive charac- 
 ters between Vegetables and Animals. 
 
 The difference will be found when we consider, that a plant is 
 motionless — is a fixture to the part of the earth where it was 
 originally sown, and obtains its nourishment by the very roots 
 which fix it to the soil ; while an animal, on the contrary, is loco- 
 motive, and must shift from spot to spot, in quest of nutriment. 
 
 Here, then, is the great and prominent distinction between a 
 member of the vegetable and of the animal kingdom. The one 
 is stationary ; the other endowed with spontaneous motion. To 
 ascertain, therefore, what are the characteristic, distinctive parts 
 of an Animal body we have to inquire — What organs must be 
 supplied to adapt it to move from place to place in search of 
 food, and to enable it when it has reached its food, to seize and 
 appropriate it ? 
 
 The First set of organs which an animal will require, will be 
 organs of Locomotion or progression ; in other words, parts 
 analogous to our limbs ; if the creature be aquatic, they may be 
 fins, or paddles ; if it move in the air, they may be wings ; if it 
 inhabit dry land, they may be extremities and feet. The Second 
 will be instruments which the animal may put forth, as we do 
 our hands, to seize and secure the objects of nourishment ; and 
 they may be presented under various forms, as tentacles, paws 
 armed with claws, projecting muzzles with teeth of peculiar 
 shape : these are the Prehensile organs. The Third will be a 
 Mouth, provided with appendages more or less resembling 
 teeth, for dividing and triturating the food, and preparing it toi 
 
226 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 passing along the gullet to the stomach. The Fourth will be 
 >rgaus capable of regulating the combined machinery of th-e 
 body; that is, parts endowed with the power of initiating motion, 
 and senses to guide the movements of the animal ; that is, a 
 Nervous System, consisting of nerves of motion, nerves of sense, 
 and a seusorium analogous to the brain. 
 
 If we take a general survey of the animal kingdom, we shall 
 find that every living being, whatever may be its place in the 
 scale, possesses a representative, of one kind or other, of all the 
 organs just enumerated. It is true that their structure, in the 
 lowest, is greatly varied ; in many, the signs of affinity to vege- 
 tables obscure their proper character ; in others, the organs 
 serving for distinct purposes are more or less fused into each 
 other, so as to be distinguished with difficulty ; again, we meet 
 with infinitely varied modifications in the mechanism of the same 
 organs, to accommodate them to the innumerably different 
 modes by which animals obtain their food : yet from the lowest 
 animal inhabiting a stagnant pool up to Man, a single type or 
 plan of formation is adhered to. 
 
 We may now perceive how the author came to believe, that 
 the spinal nerves and fifth cerebral nerve, in Man, is a class 
 common to all grades of the animal kingdom. Let me re- 
 capitulate the organs to which the nerves of that class are sent. 
 1st, the spinal nerves supply the Lower Extremities — the organs 
 of progression in man, corresponding with those members by 
 which other animals move from place to place in search of food : 
 2dly, they are sent to the Upper Extremities, the arm and haad 
 — the instruments of prehension in man, analogous to those 
 organs by which the inferior animals seize and secure objects of 
 nourishment ; 3dly, the branches of the motor root of the fifth 
 cerebral nerve are distributed to the muscles of the Jaws — the 
 manducatory organ— corresponding with the ora aperture of the 
 lower animals, where food is delayed and submitted to triturat ; on 
 previous to being swallowed and passed into the stomach. Finally, 
 this system suprjlies nerves to the two organs of sense which are 
 most essential for guiding the movements of an animal in search 
 of nourishment : it gives the nerves of Touch, and of Taste.* 
 
 * As it is by the sense of Taste, combined with touch, thai 
 animals distinguish ti.eir food, we can understand why the nerve 
 taste — the Gustatory branch of the fifth cerebral nerye — sli^uld 
 
OF THE NERVES. 
 
 227 
 
 Secondly : as to the " Kespiratory " class of nerves, and their 
 being a superadded system, introduced in the higher animals in 
 correspondence with changes of structure which the organ of 
 breathing undergoes, in its course of development through the 
 animal kit^om, to adapt it to Voice, in Man — the correctness of 
 that theory will be best perceived by taking a general survey of 
 the apparatus for resr. Vation, as presented in the lowest and the 
 nigh est animals. 
 
 To follow the short description I am about to give, it may be 
 o r advantage to consider, at the outset, — What are the conditions 
 required in the organ of Respiration to accommodate it to produce 
 Voice, besides carrying on its primary and ordinary function of 
 oxygenating the blood? 
 
 The first thing is, that the air, with which the blood to be 
 purified is brought in contact, shall be collected within a partially 
 closed cavity ; and that the walls of that cavity shall be capable 
 of contracting on the volume of air, so as to expel it with an 
 impetus sufficiently strong to produce vibrations, and thus give 
 rise to sound. The second essential thing is, that a tube, or 
 windpipe, shall communicate between the cavity and the external 
 air; and that, connected with that tube, there shall be an 
 appropriate apparatus for varying and modulating the sounds 
 produced by the expulsion of air through the tube. That is the 
 simplest view of an organ of Voice, such as belongs to man. 
 
 But in the lowest animals, we find no vestige of a structure 
 like what has been described. The air which oxygenates the 
 blood, instead of being drawn into the interior of the body, 
 exercises its influence on the blood from without — that is, by 
 coming in contact with the exterior surface of the animal ; 
 and there is no provision at all, connected with the organ of 
 breathing, for producing sound. In the whole extent of com- 
 parative anatomy, so fertile in subjects calculated to inspire 
 
 be included in a system, common to all members of the animal 
 kingdom, found in the earliest period of animal development, as in 
 the latest. It has been stated before (p. 214), that the other senses, 
 \\z. seeing, hearing, and smelling, are bestowed upon animals, one 
 after the other, according as they rise in the scale, and their 
 organization becomes adapted to the possession of such additional 
 senses. That may explain why the optic, auditory, and olfactory 
 nerves should have distinct origins from the brain. 
 
 Q 2 
 
22S 
 
 OF THE NERVES* 
 
 admiration, there is nothing which raises that feeling more, than 
 observing the series of simple changes which gradually take place 
 in different animals, as they ascend in the animal scale, t<t 
 conduct the air, applied, at first, to parts situated externally, intc 
 the interior of the body, there to be partially closed in, and made 
 available for producing Voice and Articulate Language, besides 
 purifying the blood. 
 
 In the inferior animals which are only a grade above 
 Vegetables, no distinct respiratory organ exists. That deficiency 
 corresponds with the absence of a system of vessels for circulating 
 the blood in these creatures. The fluids obtained by assimilation 
 of the food, and representing blood, are diffused through the 
 cellular structure of the animal's body; and it is simply by the 
 air being brought into contact with the integument, that a 
 process ofcoxygenation, analogous to what takes place in the lungs 
 of the higher animals, is effected : so that the mode of purification 
 of the fluids in animals at the bottom of the scale, differs but 
 little from that in vegetables. As soon as distinct tubes are 
 formed for circulating the nutrient fluids (scarcely to be called 
 blood at that early period) through the body, traces are perceived 
 of a respiratory organ. A congeries of vessels directing their 
 course to a particular spot, indicates that the apparatus for 
 respiration is situated at that part : but we find nothing as yet 
 approximating in appearance to Lungs. The animals referred to 
 live in the water : and all that can be seen to represent a 
 respiratory organ, is a set of loose fringes, or tufts, formed by 
 duplications, or prolongations, of the integuments. By floating 
 freely in the water, these tufts expose the blood circulating in 
 them to the action of the air with which the water is charged, 
 in a more effectual manner than can be done by the integument 
 generally. As the (circulating system becomes more distinct, the 
 fringes are exchanged for small sacs within the animal, formed 
 by the integument folded inwards upon itself, and open for the 
 ingress and egress of water. These pouches are, at first, mere 
 shallow cavities ; but as the organization advances, their lining 
 membranes, on which the blood-vessels are spread, are disposed 
 into numerous folds, so as to increase the extent of surface with 
 which the water and its contained air come in contact. The 
 apparatus for respiration in Insects, is a modification of the latter 
 kind of structure : ranged along the sides of their bodies, at 
 
OF THE NERVES. 
 
 229 
 
 regular intervals, there is a succession of holes, which are the 
 openings of a series of infinitely small tubes, extending in all 
 directions through their interior ; these openings and tubes 
 conduct the air into their bodies, where it has the effect ot 
 purifying the blood. A higher form of respiratory organ is 
 presented in branchiae or gills. These are possessed by such 
 animals only as have the circulating system so far developed, that 
 the elements of a heart, and a distinct set of vessels for 
 conveying the blood to be oxygenated, appear for the first time ; 
 and they therefore indicate a greater concentration both of the 
 respiratory organ and of the circulating system. But even gills 
 pass through many gradations before they acquire that high 
 degree of development with which we are most familiar in Fishes. 
 
 What we have chiefly to remark in all the modes of respiration 
 hitherto mentioned is ; first, that until we arrive at the order 
 Fishes, the lowest of the Vertebrata, the Mouth has no connection 
 with the organ of breathing ; — in all the Invertebrate, that aper- 
 ture serves exclusively for taking in the food and manducation. 
 Secondly, that it is in fishes, that we have the earliest example 
 of an internal skeleton, in which is blocked out, as it were, the 
 first rude form of a chest, for containing lungs, and for drawing 
 in and expelling the air through a single tube, the trachea, or 
 windpipe, communicating with the Mouth. 
 
 It may be new to many of the readers of this work to be told 
 that the Air-Bladder, which serves in most fishes to accommo- 
 date their specific gravity to the various degrees of density of 
 the water in which they swim-, is, in reality, an elementary Lung. 
 Yet that is proved to be the case by many facts in comparative 
 anatomy. It is sufficient to state, that a set of fishes exist called 
 sauroid (from their resemblance to the inferior kinds of Reptiles) ; 
 in which the air-bladder communicates with the mouth by a 
 tube (termed ductus pneumaticus), which resembles, in all 
 respects, a windpipe ; and these fishes, when left on dry land, 
 can respire by this apparatus, independently of their gills. The 
 same structure passes through various gradations in other animals 
 intermediate between fishes and reptiles, till the gills at length 
 disappear, and the air-bladder becomes a more perfectly or- 
 ganized lung. 
 
 If we trace the progressive changes by which the sac, thus 
 introduced for the first time, into the interior of the body in 
 
230 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 £onm uuication with the mouth, becomes at length surrounded 
 by an apparatus of ribs and muscles, capable, by alternate expan- 
 sion and contraction, of drawing in and expelling air, we shall 
 find that the mechanism makes important advances towards a 
 perfect form of that kind of respiration, in the order Reptiles. 
 In the lowest of the order, viz. those reptiles immediately above 
 fishes — Frogs and Tortoises — the development of ribs is so im- 
 perfect, that instead of the sac, or lung, being filled with air by 
 an expansive motion of the thorax, it is gradually distended by 
 ►successive actions of the Mouth, like swallowing: and Nostrils, 
 through which the air is thus sucked, are now perceived. In 
 the higher reptiles, as the Crocodiles, the membraneous sac 
 becomes more compact, and like the proper substance of lung : it 
 is permeated by numerous branches of the windpipe, which sub- 
 divide and terminate in air-cells : and the lungs are now for the 
 first time surrounded by the Kibs, and Sternum, provided with 
 muscles to expand and contract the cavity. Although, in conse- 
 quence of the weak, flexible structure of the bones of the chest 
 (corresponding with the tortuous movements of the reptile in 
 creeping), the process of alternate expansion and contraction is 
 carried on imperfectly, the quantity of air received and dis- 
 charged, small as it is, is sufficient for animals which are cold- 
 blooded, and have a torpid circulation like theirs. 
 
 But however near an approximation is thus made, in reptiles, 
 by the introduction of Nostrils, a Windpipe, and Lungs encased 
 in a Thorax, to the apparatus of respiration as it exists in Man, 
 a great change remains to be effected, before the resemblance is 
 complete. Not only in reptiles, but in Birds, which is the order 
 of vertebrata next above reptiles, the lungs occupy a part of the 
 body common to them and the viscera generally : the thorax and 
 abdomen form a single cavity. It is not till we ascend to the 
 Mammalia, the order above birds, and next to Man, — those 
 vertebrate animals which have Lips, and can suck the teat — that 
 a subdivision of the trunk into two distinct chambers, is found. 
 That separation is accomplished by means of the Diaphragm, a 
 muscular partition, which stretches across from the lower border 
 of the ribs on one side to that on the other. When that muscle 
 is added, the lungs are closed in on all sides by moveable walls, 
 capable of expansion and contraction. ; so that by enlarging 
 the cavity, or inspiring, air is received freely into the chest j 
 
OF THE NERVES. 
 
 231 
 
 and it can then be expelled, by respiration, with whatever 
 degree of force is desired. In short, when the diaphragm is 
 introduced, the organ of breathing attains its highest condition 
 of concentration in the animal kingdom : and it is not only- 
 adapted in an admirable manner for oxygenating the blood, but 
 for propelling the air along the windpipe, with such regulated 
 force as is necessary to produce Vocal sounds. 
 
 When the chest has acquired the compact form just described, 
 several modifications in the structure of different parts of the 
 frame, which do not at first appear directly related to breathing, 
 take place. New sensibilities, intended to guard the apparatus, 
 and which have the power of animating numerous distinct muscles, 
 to co-operate rapidly in producing appropriate defensive actions, are 
 also introduced, in correspondence with the change of mechanism. 
 It is necessary, in order to understand properly the uses of the 
 nerves distributed to the organ, to bear those arrangements in 
 view ; and I may therefore direct attention to a few of them. 
 
 The first example will be from the act of Swallowing. We 
 are so familiar with deglutition as an action performed in the 
 same passage by which we receive our breath, that it does not 
 seem remarkable, that food for nourishment, and air for respiration, 
 should both be safely admitted by one entrance : and yet in about 
 nine-tenths of the animal kingdom, namely, all the invertebrata, 
 the mouth is appropriated exclusively to taking in food, and has 
 nothing to do with respiration. But let us suppose a morsel in 
 the mouth, and trace its progress to the stomacu. I only allude, 
 in passing, to the arrangements by which, when the mouth is 
 full, and no air passes into the lungs by that inlet, it is provided 
 that the breathing shall proceed uninterruptedly, by the Nostrils, 
 which open into the throat behind, directly over the proper orifice 
 of the windpipe. When the morsel has been chewed, and is 
 ready for swallowing, it is propelled into the back of the mouth : 
 and here it comes in contact with a part of the throat, which is 
 endowed with a remarkable sensibility, — a sensibility of such a 
 nature that, when excited, there is an irresistible desire to swallow ; 
 and the consequence is, that whenever the sensible spot is touched 
 by the morsel, a large class of muscles, consisting not only of 
 those immediately adjoining, but of others situated at a distance, 
 are brought into combined action, to grasp and propel the food 
 rapidly into the gullet. Here a great variety of movements takes 
 
232 
 
 OF THE NEIIVES. 
 
 place consentaneously. The windpipe is closed by its valve, the 
 epiglottis, falling over it ; the posterior nostrils are shut, by the 
 folding upwards of the curtain, called the soft palate ; certain 
 strong muscles surrounding the upper part of the gullet compress 
 the morsel, and urge it quickly past the opening of the windpipe 
 into that canal; but, before the food can reach the stomach, it 
 must pass through muscular fibres of the diaphragm, encircling 
 the gullet ; these fibres consequently relax, and there is a momen- 
 tary interruption of the regular action of the diaphragm. Now 
 Ul these actions, which show so remarkable a consent between 
 the muscles of deglutition and of respiration, are excited and 
 regulated by the peculiar sensibility seated at the back part of 
 the throat. If, however, there should be any disturbance in the 
 act of swallowing, and a small portion of the food should pass 
 the wrong way, a different set of actions will occur, under the 
 influence of another kind of sensibility ; for example, if a crumb 
 of bread should lodge in the throat, near the opening of the 
 windpipe, a sensibility distinct from that which gives rise to 
 swallowing, will be excited; and will rouse the muscles to pro- 
 duce a set of movements altogether different from the former : 
 the same muscles which are at one time engaged in deglutition, 
 will now be combined in such a way as to cause a succession of 
 violent extirpations or fits of coughing, which will continue till 
 the irritating particle is expelled from the top of the windpipe, 
 and the danger of choking removed. So there are various other 
 sensibilities seated in distinct parts of the passages, which differ 
 in kind as well as degree, from those just mentioned ; and, when 
 these are excited, similar concatenated actions of the muscles are 
 produced, modified according to the structure which requires to 
 be cleared or defended. 
 
 I shall take the next example from the Circulating System. 
 Comparative anatomy shows that, according as the apparatus of 
 respiration becomes more perfectly organized, the heart and 
 blood-vessels begin to be subdivided into two distinct systems ; 
 xhe one for sending the blood to the lungs, and returning it when 
 purified : and the other for distributing the purified blood to the 
 body, and returning it for renewed oxygenation. That is the 
 origin of the distinction drawn by anatomists, between the 
 pulmonic circle, which includes the part of the heart and blood 
 vessels that belong to the lungs ; and the systemic circle, or part 
 
OF THE NERVES. 
 
 233 
 
 of the heart and blood-vessels which send the blood over the 
 body, and return it to the heart. This separation takes place iu 
 the animal kingdom, slowly and gradually, and is only complete 
 in the warm-blooded animals. Thus, in man, the division of the 
 circulating system appropriated to the lungs consists of cavities 
 of the heart and of blood-vessels, quite distinct from those 
 provided for propelling the blood over the body. Yet these two 
 divisions act in perfect concert with each other ; a concert 
 mechanically secured by the peculiar structure of the heart ; for 
 the two sets of muscular cavities constituting the heart, are joined 
 together, to form a single organ, and they contract in unison. 
 Thus, so close a sympathy is established between the heart and 
 the organ of respiration, that any interruption to the breathing 
 will not only affect the action of the division of the heart which 
 belongs to the lungs, but it will disturb the action of that part, 
 joined to it in structure, by which the purified blood is conveyed 
 through the body. Again, agitation of the heart, by disturbing 
 the regular flow of blood to and from the lungs, will in like 
 manner disturb the actions of respiration. 
 
 Another point, still connected with the Circulating system, 
 deserves to be noticed, as throwing light on some of the questions 
 treated in the work. The blood which returns to the heart by 
 the veins, flows towards the chest in a slow and easily interrupted 
 stream ; the force which propelled it when issuing from the heart 
 by the arteries, being exhausted before it enters the veins. 
 From this weakness of the current, it follows that the blood 
 collected in the great veins close to the entrance of the chest — 
 as the jugular veins, for example — may be stopped by a slight- 
 cause ; when congestion of the minute branches will be the 
 consequence, and serious injury may be occasioned to the more 
 delicate organs from which the blood returns. Now there arc 
 certain conditions of the chest in breathing, during which the 
 venous blood is thus interrupted. As we draw in the breath, 
 the blood flows along the veins with perfect facility, because the 
 superior opening of the chest is then enlarged, and the suction, 
 which draws air into the windpipe, has also the effect of in- 
 creasing the force of the current of returning blood. But when 
 we expel the air, and thereby diminish the area of the chest, an 
 obstruction takes place in the flow of blood in the veins, and if 
 ihe act of expiration be strong, regurgitation may be produced 
 
234 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 This in term J cion, and retrograde motion of the blood ,n i»» 
 large veins of the neck, gorges the smaller vessels; the effect 
 of which may be seen in a person seized with a fit of coughing or 
 of sneezing : for his face then becomes suffused with red, and the 
 superficial veins turgid with blood. It is therefore obvious, that 
 if the veins of the surface of the head become congested, in such 
 violent conditions of breathing, the deeper veins, returning thp 
 blood from the Brain and the Eye, will also be over distended 
 from the same cause. Consequently, the delicate textures o\ 
 these important organs will be in danger of suffering serioui 
 injury from the loaded and turgid condition of the veins. But 
 both organs are defended from such dangers by a beautifu. 
 arrangement of the muscles of the neck, which cover and protect 
 the venous trunks. These muscles act in sympathy with the 
 movements of respiration ; so as to compress the large veins 
 when the chest is contracted, and there is a tendency to re- 
 gurgitation of the blood ; and to take pressure off them, when 
 .he chest is expanded, and the channel to the heart is free. It is 
 urther to be noticed, that the flat web of muscular fibres whicli 
 30 vers the eye — the orbicularis muscle, by which we wink, and 
 shut the eyes — is a part of the same provision. It acts in 
 compressing the eye-ball whenever the chest is violently con- 
 tracted, as in coughing, &c. ; by that means it closes the veins 
 at the back of the orbit, and prevents engorgement of the fine 
 branches which ramify on the delicate coats within the eyeball.* 
 
 * The orbicularis muscle is wanting in animals which have not 
 the same concentrated apparatus for breathing as man. I have 
 shewn elsewhere that in man and mammalia another provision 
 exists besides that mentioned in the text, for guarding the eye 
 against the irregularities of the venous circulation. The small 
 veins which ramify in the interior of the organ between the delicate 
 membranes that support the retina, join the larger trunks, before 
 these pass out from the eye-ball, in a peculiar manner ; each branch 
 makes a circular sweep, so as to describe nearly a complete circle, 
 previous to entering its principal vein, and being arranged in 
 concentric circles, they produce an appearance whence the name 
 vasa vorticosa has been applied to them. Nothing can be more 
 admirably adapted than this structure for breaking the force of a 
 retrograde current of blood, and gradually diffusing it over the 
 membranes. A similar vertieose arrangement, though not so 
 distinct, is )bserved in the superficial veins of the brain, and is 
 obviously d< signed for a similar object. 
 
OF THE NERVES. 
 
 Hence it may be perceived by what close ties of sympathy the 
 Circulating System and the Respiratory Organ are held together, 
 when both are in the concentrated condition presented in Man. 
 The heart acts upon the organ of breathing : and it, in its turn, 
 is acted upon by the lungs. It is in this manner that the 
 troubled motions within the breast, which sensibly accompany 
 intense Emotion or Passion, exhibit themselves outwardly. 
 Sudden changes of colour in the countenance denote disturbances 
 in the heart's action ; laboured, irregular movements of the chest, 
 extending to the neck and face, mark corresponding interruptions 
 to the action of the respiratory organ : and both give rise to the 
 varieties of Expression. Man is so constituted that he interprets, 
 5s a natural language, these signs of a troubled bosom in his 
 iellow men. It is a mode of communication intelligible to the 
 inhabitants of every nation and clime, however diversified their 
 articulate words. In this sense, Expression is a link which binds 
 mankind in one common family. 
 
 If, in that agitated state of respiration, Voice, either in song or 
 speech, be added, the sounds partake the perturbed condition ; 
 and carry an effect as coming direct from the " bosom's lord," the 
 Heart. Then is it that language, or music, exerts its most 
 intense influence on the feelings of others. 
 
 It was from studying the human body with these views, that 
 the author concluded :— that the nerves which arise from a part 
 of the brain distinct from that which give. . >ff the nerves generally, 
 and which are distributed to the organ of respiration, are bestowed 
 in correspondence with the changes of mechanism which take 
 place in that organ, and the new relations which are established 
 between it and other parts, during its course of development in 
 the animal kingdom. He believed that the main design of those 
 progressive changes was to afford to man an instrument suited to 
 the superior endowments conferred on him : — to supply him with 
 an organ for the communication of thought, and for thus exercising 
 and evolving the powers of his Mind — the great attribute by 
 which he holds his exalted position in Creation. But as for 
 intercourse with his fellow-men, Man does not depend upon 
 articulate language alone ; there is the language of Expression ; 
 a mode of communication understood equally by mankind ail 
 over the globe ; — not conventional, or confined to nations, but 
 ased by the infant before speech, by untutoreu ravage visited hy 
 
236 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 civilised European — be thought that the apparatus which was 
 introduced for Voice and Language, was the same by which 
 passion and emotion address themselves to us. Accordingly, he 
 concluded, that the nerves of Respiration are at the same time 
 the nerves of Expression. 
 
 Of these nerves, the " JSTervus Vagus," from its extensive dis- 
 tribution, and the importance of the organs which it supplies, 
 must be accounted the most considerable. As its name implies, 
 it takes a long, wandering course. Arising from the same part 
 of the brain as the other respiratory nerves, it first gives branches 
 to the back of the throat and posterior orifices of the Nostrils ; 
 descending a little in the neck, it sends a nerve to the upper 
 part of the larynx, the organ of Voice ; having passed further 
 down, and entered the chest, a branch is reflected upwards, which 
 goes, like the last, to the Larynx, but supplies its lower part ; 
 branches are next transmitted along the principal blood-vessels, 
 to the Heart ; while others, following the course of the bronchial 
 tubes, enter the Lungs : the nerve having now expanded nearly 
 all its fibrils, descends along the gullet, and terminates in 
 branches to that tube and the orifice of the stomach, where they 
 are encircled by muscular fibres of the Diaphragm. The use of 
 the nerve appears to be, to unite the various structures which 
 have been enumerated, in sympathy ; so that although situated 
 at remote distances, and for the most part intrinsically distinct in 
 function, they may act in concert with the organ of respiration 
 generally ; and harmony may be established in the many com- 
 plicated actions which they are associated together in performing. 
 The " Spinal Accessory " nerve passes obliquely down the side cf 
 the neck, to supply muscles attached to the upper part of the 
 chest and the shoulder-blades ; and as these muscles co-operate 
 with others in expanding the chest, and assist also in preventing 
 irregularities in the venous circulation during the excited con- 
 ditions of breathing, it is concluded that the function of the 
 nerve is to associate the muscles to which it goes, with the organ 
 of respiration. The name of the next nerve in order, the 
 " Gosso- pharyngeal, " indicates the parts to which it is distributed, 
 the Tongue, and the Pharynx, or funnel-like expansion at the 
 back part of the throat, which forms the common opening of both 
 the windpipe and the gullet : as it is here that the numerous 
 complicated and finely arranged actions by which the entrance 
 
OF THE NERVES. 
 
 237 
 
 into the air- tube is protected during deglutition are performed, 
 the glossopharyngeal nerve seems provided to regulate those 
 actions, and connect them with the operations of the organ of 
 breathing generally. The last nerve to be specially mentioned, 
 is the " Portio-dura :" coming out from the place of common 
 origin of the respiratory nerves, before the ear, it sends branches 
 first upon the side of the neck, to supply muscles which overlay 
 and compress the veins in that part ; it next gives nerves to the 
 lips ; afterwards to the nostrils ; then to the orbicular muscle of 
 the eye-lids : lastly, to the muscles of the brows ; and, in order 
 "to reach the parts of the face, to which it is destined, the nerve 
 Has to travel across the large masseter muscle, and the equally 
 iarge temporal muscle, to neither of which (being muscles of 
 mastication, and supplied by the Fifth nerve) does it give even 
 /he smallest branch : the chief use of the portio-dura is to 
 associate the muscles of the lips and of the Nostrils, the tw r o 
 external orifices of the air-tube, with the rest of the organ of 
 respiration ; but it fulfils other duties at the same time ; its 
 branches which descend upon the neck, and those which go to 
 the orbicular muscles of the eye-lids, control movements con- 
 nected with disturbances in the venous circulation, produced 
 in certain excited states of the respiration; while the whole 
 nerve, in virtue of its commanding the motions of all the features 
 of the countenance, is the great source of Expression in the 
 Face. 
 
 Having shewn the gradual process by which the organ of 
 breathing is newly modelled, to adapt it to voice and 
 expression, it is not out of place to point out how those other 
 organs of the body, which have been described as super- 
 intended by the " Original " class of nerves, — viz., the spinal 
 nerves and fifth cerebral nerve — accommodate themselves to the 
 new mechanism. It will be seen that, in the early stages of 
 development of animals, owing to the defective organization 
 of the Locomotive and Prehensile instruments, the Mouth is 
 embarrassed by having to perform offices, connected with 
 obtaining food, which preclude its being used as an orifice for 
 breathing ; it has consequently no connection with the organ oi 
 respiration. But by degrees those subsidiary organs improv 
 free the Mouth from performing more duties than those oi 
 manducu .ion, and it is converted, at last, into an opening which 
 
238 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 serves not only for receiving food, but for respiration, voice, and 
 speech. As it is the adaptation of the size of the jaws, and ol 
 the cavity of the Mouth to Speech, which, according to the 
 principles of the author,* impart the characters of nobleness and 
 beauty to the permanent form of the human head, which distin- 
 guish it from the brute, 1 may briefly trace the steps in ths 
 development by which that is effected. 
 
 It was intimated before, that animals placed at the bottom of 
 the scale of living beings, have an organization in many points 
 resembling vegetables ; nevertheless, those creatures possess an 
 organ corresponding to the Mouth. But at that pristine stage of 
 animal life, there are no distinct prehensile or locomotive organs 
 to minister to the mouth ; the " oral aperture " is little more 
 than one of the spongioles in the root of. a vegetable, by which 
 nutritious fluids are attracted from the soil. Take the example 
 of the Sponges : fixed to a rock in the sea, the sponge cannot 
 transport itself from place to place in search of food : it has no 
 feelers or arms to procure nourishment ; it is, in short, like a 
 plant f in every respect but this, that instead of imbibing its 
 food from the spot from which it grows, its numerous pores or 
 mouths placed on the free surface of its body, receive the 
 nutritious substances floating or dissolved in the water around 
 it ; the currents and undulations of the sea sweeping its pendulous 
 body from side to side, and to and fro, compensate in some degree 
 for the deficiency of locomotive and prehensile organs. Advancing 
 higher in the scale, animals are met with still fixed to a rock, 
 and wanting in locomotive organs ; but the mouth is now 
 provided with instruments corresponding to prehensile organs. 
 Thus certain species of Polypes, attached to corals, exist, which 
 have their open mouths surrounded by rows of tentacles or 
 ciliary processes,^ the principal use of which is to cause circles or 
 eddies in the water near them, so that the nourishing matter in 
 their neighbourhood may be attracted to their mouths, caught, 
 and swallowed. In ascending a little higher, we find animals 
 in general structure like those just described, having a mouth 
 provided with tentacles capable of directing nourishing matter 
 into it ; but instead of these animals being fixed by moorings to 
 a rock, they are let loose to float in the ocean ; and we percei re, 
 
 * Page 29, f Whence the name, " Zoophytes." 
 
 J Like petals of flowers, whence the name, " sea-flowers. r 
 
OF THE SERVES. 
 
 239 
 
 /)V the first time, indications of locomotive organs, combined 
 with mouth and prehensile organs. The creatures to which I 
 refer, are such as the " Sea-nettle." That animal consists ot a 
 mass of buoyant soft substance ; by alternate contractions and 
 expansions of its body, it has a slight power of directing its move- 
 ments ; but it trusts chiefly for its changes of feeding-ground to 
 the effects of the tides and currents of the sea : like a boat without 
 oars or rudder, it is drifted from sand-bank to sand-bank, and 
 floating along passively, a prey to stronger creatures, and defended 
 only by its stings, it picks up the food which casually falls within 
 its reach; in short, its organs of progression are in the lowest stage 
 of development. And here it may be remarked, that it is the 
 ocean, lakes, or rivers, where we must look for creatures such as 
 those described, which have their organs of prehension and of 
 locomotion, and mouths, least advanced in organization : not only 
 does the density of the water assist in buoying up their bodies 
 an<i make them independent of solidly constructed members to 
 rest or move upon ; but the fluid divides or dissolves the nutritious 
 matters, so as to be more easily received into their mouths of 
 simple structure. Accordingly, when we ascend higher in the 
 animal series, and arrive at those animals which possess the 
 earliest distinct representations of legs, such as belong to the 
 highest, we perceive that the numbers of creatures capable of 
 living on dry land begin to increase. I allude to animals 
 which have an internal skeleton, that is, a skeleton composed of 
 bones, found for the first time in the class Vertebrata. But 
 amongst these the parts corresponding to legs and arms are, at 
 the commencement, so imperfectly formed, that the animals to 
 which they belong partly inhabit the water, and partly the land ; 
 and when they do visit the dry land, they crawl upon their 
 bellies, that is, they assist their weak and slender extremities by 
 the tortuous motions along the earth of their trunks and tails ; 
 as we see in the crocodile or lizard. Gradually, as the develop- 
 ment proceeds, and the bones acquire increased solidity of 
 structure, the body is well lifted up from the ground, the legs 
 are longer leveir*, more powerful and more active, as we see in 
 the condition of Quadrupeds. 
 
 Next, let us observe the progressive advancement from the 
 state of quadrupeds to that of Man. As the four-footed aninia 
 ascend in th? scale, a contrast becomes evident between the 
 
240 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 power and dimensions of their fore and their hind legs. Origin- 
 ally, both these sets of members participated equally in sustaining 
 the weight of the trunk and head, and moving the body ; but, 
 by degrees, the hind legs increase in size and strength dispro- 
 portionately to the fore-legs ; and the latter become possessed 
 of freer and more diversified motion. In short, in the strong 
 hind-quarters of the horse, deer, &c, we see a preparation for 
 the parts corresponding to the lower extremities of Man, be- 
 coming the exclusive organs of progression ; and in the light, 
 agile forms of the fore-legs, a preparation for those corresponding 
 to the upper extremities, taking on the part of arms, to act 
 exclusively as instruments of prehension. But it is only in Man 
 that this distinct appropriation of each member to its own peculiar 
 function is found complete. The monkey, Man's nearest relation 
 in the family of animals, can rest upon the hind legs ; but it is 
 feebly and imperfectly ; he can skilfully grasp a cocoa-nut with 
 parts resembling human hands ; but his so-called hands are still 
 instruments of progression; they enable bim to warp himself 
 with agility along the branches of trees, his proper habitation. 
 Man is distinguished above all other animals by his lower 
 extremities having solidity and power sufficient to sustain his body 
 without the aid of other members, and so as to be his sole organs of 
 progression : hence his erect position. Again, as man's upper 
 extremities are emancipated from the duty of assisting in 
 locomotion, they are free to execute whatever rapid and varied 
 movements may be called for, either for self-defence or for 
 procuring nourishment. And in correspondence with that freedom 
 of action, a Hand is added, which, for the perfection of its 
 endowments and mechanism, has been, in all ages, a constant 
 theme of admiration. 
 
 Now let us ask, what influence have the improvements thus 
 shewn in the construction of the organs of locomotion and of 
 prehension, upon the structure of the Mouth ? The chief use ot 
 the prehensile organs being to seize food for the supply of the 
 mouth, 4 .t may be expected that, as they become more highly 
 organized, the mouth will undergo a change in its form. Let us 
 inquire, then, what effect has the improved organization of the 
 prehensile organ as seen in the hand of man in allowing the 
 mouth to be adapted for a vocal organ — an organ of Articulate 
 Language ? 
 
OF THE NEEVES. 
 
 211 
 
 It has been stated that in all the vertebrate animals below 
 man, the member analogous to the arm and hand, is an instru- 
 ment of progression as well as of prehension. Whether we 
 take the fin of the fish, the anterior extremity of the reptile, the 
 wing of the bird, the paddle of the dolphin, or the fore leg of the 
 horse or dog, the principal, if not the only use of the member is 
 to assist in locomotion ; only a few quadrupeds, like the squirrel, 
 the feline animals, &c, besides using their paws for running, 
 olimbing, burrowing, &c, employ them to carry food to the 
 mouth. Now the consequence of using the organ intended to 
 convey the food to the mouth as one for progression, will be, that 
 the office of appropriating the food will be thrown upon the 
 mouth itself. Accordingly, in all animals below Man, the 
 mouth is a prehensile, as well as a manducatory organ. If the 
 animal be graminivorous, it must crop the herbage with its 
 teeth before chewing and triturating it ; if it be carnivorous, it 
 must be provided with large, sharp fangs or tusks, to fight, seize, 
 and tear its prey, before it can reduce its food to a fit state for 
 swallowing. In short, the mouth, with its delicate sense of 
 touch, its hairs or whiskers projecting from it as feelers, and its 
 jaws armed with large teeth, is to be looked upon, in conjunction 
 with the long, flexible neck commonly belonging to brutes, as 
 combining the functions of the human arm and hand, with that 
 of an organ of mastication. 
 
 But it is obvious that a mouth of the large capacity and. 
 irregular shape of an animal like the horse, ox, dog, or lion, could 
 never be adapted to produce articulate sounds. In a cavity such 
 as the mouth of the horse, we can understand how neighing may 
 be produced ; but we cannot suppose that, by any adjustment of 
 the tongue or lips, the air, even if it were properly vocalised in 
 the larynx, could be confined, and then be let suddenly free to 
 give rise to explosive sounds ; or be impinged against the palate, 
 to cause guttural sounds; or be directed into the back of the 
 nostrils, to produce nasal sounds. In short, none of those 
 numerous, finely-varied changes in the shape of the interior of 
 the mouth, produced by the combined action of the tongue, 
 palate, cheeks, and lips, which give rise to the infinite modifica- 
 tions of sound in speech, could take place in such gross 
 structures. For the vibrating air expelled from the larynx to be 
 divided and modulated so as to produce words with proper tone 
 
 1% 
 
242 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 and accent, it is necessary that the cavity of the mouth should 
 be small, its boundaries regular and uninterrupted, and the com- 
 munication between it and the nostrils free. 
 
 Now that is the very character of the mouth in Man. 
 Provided with an arm and hand, free to execute all the objects of 
 his will, man is under no necessity to use his mouth as the brute 
 does. Being limited to manducation, the jaw-bones may be of 
 small size and light construction, while the teeth may likewise 
 be small, be set erect, and ranged in uniform, regular rows, so 
 important for distinct articulation. On the whole, from the 
 mouth being absolved, by the perfection of the hand, from 
 performing more offices than those of mastication simply, the 
 cavity admits of being diminished in size, the jaws and teeth of 
 being reduced to moderate dimensions, and the whole form is 
 suited in the most admirable manner for an organ of articulate 
 language. 
 
 On looking to the skulls of different races of mankind, it 
 will be seen that Nature, in fashioning the mouth of man to be 
 a speaking organ, has not departed from her usual course ot 
 carrying on the process of development by slow and gradual steps. 
 Observe what a contrast exists between the skull of the Negro 
 and that of the European, caused by the inordinately large size 
 of the jaws and projection of the teeth in the former. The well- 
 formed skull of the European is distinguished by having the 
 jaws and teeth of comparatively diminutive size; while the 
 cavities formed in the interstices between the bones of the face, 
 at the brows and cheeks, and which communicate with the 
 nostrils, to allow a free circulation of air round the chambers 
 where sound is produced, being parts of the organ of Voice, are 
 full and prominent. 
 
 Thus we perceive how the genius of the sculptors and painters 
 of antiquity led them to discover a principle of beauty, in 
 designing the human head, founded on a profound view of the 
 relation existing between Man's physical structure and his mental 
 constitution — the principle expounded in the first essay of this 
 work. Regarding his supremacy over all created beings to be in 
 virtue of his possessing a Mind, they looked for the signs of his 
 superior organization, to those structures which minister most 
 directly to the mind. The cranium was represented capacious 
 and full, it being the part where the Brain, the seat of intellect, 
 
OF THE NEBVES. 
 
 243 
 
 is lodged. But they studied, at the same time, the organ by 
 which the operations of the intellect are embodied in Speech 
 and intercourse is established between the minds of man and 
 man. The lower part of the face, including the jaws and teeth, 
 which in brutes have such a preponderating size to enable them 
 to seize and rend their prey, was made small and delicate ; white 
 the upper, composed of passages and chambers permeated by the 
 air, and accessory to the organ of Speech, were expanded and 
 elevated into due dimensions, so as to give them characteristic 
 prominence. 
 
 Thus, in whatever view we study the development of the 
 animal frame, new proofs present themselves of the final aim of 
 sill the modifications which we successively trace, being to confer 
 upon man an instrument adapted to his intellectual nature — an 
 organ of Speech. It is the fine adjustment of the various 
 members of his body for that object, that renders his organization 
 the most perfect in the animal Kingdom. Additional strength 
 is, therefore, given to the author's opinions that our conceptions 
 of human beauty, both as regards the form of the head, and the 
 moveable features, have a direct relation to the fitness of the 
 structures for Speech, Voice, and Expression. 
 
 Such is a brief account of the leading parts of the discoveries 
 made by the author of the volume, in that important part oi 
 the anatomy of the body — the Nervous System. He first 
 established that the nerves of Motion are distinct from those 
 of Sensation ; — and that the nerves, generally, possess different 
 endowments, according to the divisions of the brain or spinal 
 marrow from which they arise. He then arranged the nerves of 
 the whole body into three distinct systems, corresponding with 
 the organs which they respectively control. The First class is 
 that composed of the Spinal Nerves and fifth Nerve of the brain ; 
 this class, he provai, bestows both motion and sensation on all 
 the parts to which it is distributed ; and these parts, he further 
 shewed, are organs which belong to man in common with the 
 lowest creatures, their united function being to supply food, the 
 first necessary want of all animals : he termed this set of nerves 
 the " Original" class, and included in it the nerves of the various 
 organs of the senses. The Second class comprises a series of 
 nerves distinct fr ;m the former, both in their origin and mode of 
 
 B 2 
 
244 
 
 OF THE NERVES. 
 
 distribution; they pass off from a circumscribed central portion 
 of the nervous system, the medulla oblongata, and diverge to 
 different parts of the head, neck, throat, and chest, already 
 supplied by the original class : he shewed that these structures 
 form together a mechanism for respiration, not found in the 
 lowest animals, but gradually introduced by a slow process of 
 development into the animal kingdom, in order that, besides 
 oxygenating the blood, it may be, in Man, the organ of Voice 
 and Expression : to this set of nerves he applied the name, 
 " Respiratory " class. In these two classes are combined all the 
 nerves together which arise either from the Brain or Spinal 
 Marrow. The Third class consists of a series of nerves which 
 have their centre in large ganglions, scattered principally among 
 the viscera of the abdomen ; this forms the system called 
 ganglionic or " Sympathetic :" and their use has been generally 
 supposed to be, to unite in sympathy those organs by which the 
 various organic functions are performed : such as secretion 
 absorption, assimilation of the food, the growth and decay of the 
 body, &c. When the nerves belonging to these different classes 
 are viewed, as by the anatomist, in their combined condition, 
 crossing, joining, and interlacing, in the different parts of the 
 body, nothing can exceed their apparent confusion ; but when 
 examined by the aid of the principle, and the arrangement 
 introduced by Sir Charles Bell, ordsr and design are found tc 
 pervade every part. 
 
EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES, 
 
 PLATE I. 
 
 Fig. 1. The Skull of a Man fully grown, presented in a front 
 riew. 
 
 a. The Frontal Bone (os frontis). 
 
 b. The Protuberances formed by the Frontal Sinuses. 
 
 c. The Temporal Kidge ^f the frontal bone; on which the form 
 
 of the temple depends. 
 
 d. The Cheek Bone (os malse). 
 
 E e. The upper Maxillary Bones. 
 f. The Nasal Bones. 
 
 G G. The Orbits or Sockets for the Eye-balls. The circle of their 
 margin is seen to be formed by the frontal bones, the cheek- 
 bones, and the superior maxillary bones. 
 
 H H. The Temporal Bones. These hollows are filled with a 
 strong muscle, which arising upon the side of the skull, 
 passes down, through the arch, to be inserted into the lower 
 jaw-bone. 
 
 1 1. The Mastoid or Mamillary Processes of the Temporal Bone 
 These are the points into which the strong mastoid muscles 
 which give form to the neck, are inserted. 
 
 k. The Lower Jaw. 
 
 l. The Angle of the Lower Jaw. 
 
 m. The Processes of the jaws which form the sockets for receiving 
 the roots of the teeth. 
 
 Fig. 2 is the Skull of an Adult seen in Profile, in which we have 
 to remark these parts : — 
 A. The Frontal Bone. 
 
 b. The Temporal Bone. 
 
 c. The Zygomatic Process of the temporal bone, which, with the 
 
 process of the cheek-bone, forms an arch, under which the 
 tendon of the temporal muscle passes, to be inserted into 
 the lower jaw. 
 
 p. The opening of the tube of the Ear ; a little below this is the 
 mastoid process of the temporal bone. 
 
248 
 
 EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES. 
 
 e. The Parietal Bone ; so called because it forms the greater part, 
 
 as it were, of the wall of the skull, 
 p. The Occipital Bone. 
 
 These bones are united by sutures, in which the processes of one 
 bone seem to indent themselves, as they grow, into those of the 
 opposite bone, without there being an absolute union between them. 
 That which unites the frontal and parietal bone is called the 
 coronal suture ; that which unites the parietal and temporal bones 
 is called the squamous or temporal suture : the line between the 
 occipital and parietal bones is the lambdoidal suture ; and the line 
 between the parietal bones is called the saggital suture, because it 
 is laid between the lambdoid and coronal sutures, like the arrow 
 between the bow and the string. 
 
 There are many lesser sutures which unite the smaller bones 01 
 the face ; but they need not be mentioned here. 
 
 G. The Cheek Bone (os malse). 
 
 h. The Upper Jaw-bone (maxilla superior). 
 
 I. The Bones of the Nose (ossa nasi). 
 
 k. The Lower Jaw (maxilla inferior). 
 
 l. The Angle of the Jaw. 
 
 m. The Process of the Jaw which moves in the socket in tne 
 temporal bone. 
 
 N. The Coronoid Process of the Jaw, into which the temporal 
 muscle is fixed, to move the jaw in conjunction with other 
 muscles. 
 
 Fig. 3 represents the Skull of an Infant, in which the sutures 
 are not yet formed, the bones of the cranium being loose, and 
 attached by their membranes only ; while the spaces may be ob- 
 served, left unprotected, from the imperfect ossification of the 
 bones. The individual parts require no references; they will be 
 understood from their correspondence with fig. 2. 
 
 Fig. 4 is the Section of a Cranium, in which the only thing 
 meant to be particularly remarked, is the cavity which is seen in 
 the frontal bone, viz. the frontal sinuses. 
 
 PLATE It. 
 
 OF THE MUSCLES OF THE FACE. 
 
 This plate represents the Muscles of the Face as they appear in 
 a front view. 
 
 There are muscles attached to the eyebrow which produce ita 
 various motions. 
 
PLATE II. 
 
EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES. 
 
 249 
 
 A a. The Frontal Muscle. A thin muscle, expanded over the 
 forehead, and inserted into the skin under the eyebrow. 
 We do not see here the whole of the muscle, but only a 
 part of what is properly called Occipito-frontalis. 
 
 It arises in a web of fibres, from the back of the skull (from a 
 ridge of the temporal and occipital bones) ; becoming tendinous, it 
 covers all the upper part of the skull with a membrane or sheet of 
 tendon, and terminates in the anterior muscle, which is seen in this 
 view. 
 
 b b. The Corrugator Supercilii arises from the lower part of the 
 frontal bone near the nose, and is inserted into the 
 integument under the eyebrow. It lies nearly transversely, 
 and its office is to knit and draw the eyebrows together. 
 
 c c. The Circular Muscle of the Eyelids (the orbicularis 
 palpebrarum). There is a little tendon at the inner angle 
 of the eye, which is a fixed point for this muscle, attaching 
 it to the maxillary bone, and being both origin and inser- 
 tion. 
 
 The descending slip of the Occipito-frontalis, or pyramidalis nasi, 
 is a fasciculus of fibres which descends from the frontal muscle to 
 be attached to the side of the nose : it has a distinct operation, and 
 may be considered as a separate muscle. It draws the inner 
 extremity of the eyebrow downwards. 
 
 These four muscles move the eyebrow, and give it all its various 
 inflexions. If the orbicularis palpebrarum and the descending slip 
 of the frontalis act together, there is a heavy and lowering ex- 
 pression. If they yield to the influence of the frontal muscle, the 
 eyebrow is arched, and there is a cheerful or an alert and inquiring 
 expression. If the corrugator supercilii acts, there is more or less 
 expression of mental anguish, or of painful exercise of thought. 
 
 Muscles moving the nostrils : — 
 
 d. Levator Labii Superioris Alseque Nasi. It arises from the 
 
 upper jaw, and is inserted into the upper lip and nostril, 
 which it raises. 
 
 e. Compressor nasi. A set of fibres which compress the nostril, 
 l. The Depressor Aim Nasi lies under the orbicularis oris. It 
 
 arises near the incisor teeth, and is inserted into the move- 
 able cartilage, which forms the wing of the nostril. 
 These three muscles serve to expand and contract the nostril. 
 They move in concert with the muscles of respiration. 
 Muscles of the Lips : — 
 
 p. Levator Labii Proprius. It arises from the upper jaw-bone, 
 near the orbit, and is inserted into the upper lip, which 
 it raises. 
 
 G. Levator Anguli Oris. This muscle, lying under the last, ie, 
 
 of course, shorter : it raises the angle of the mouth, 
 u. Zygomatic Muscle. So called, because its origin is from the 
 
250 
 
 EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES. 
 
 zygomatic process of the cheek-bone. It is inserted into 
 the angle of the mouth. 
 k. Orbicular Muscle of the Lips. 
 
 m. Nasalis Labii Superioris. Draws down the septum of the nose. 
 N. Triangularis Oris, or Depressor Labiorum. A strong muscle 
 
 arising from the base of the lower jaw, and inserted into 
 
 the angle of the mouth, 
 o. Quadratus Menti, or Depressor of the Lower Lip. 
 P. Levatores Menti. Small, but strong, muscles. They arise 
 
 from the lower jaw near the alveolar processes of the 
 
 incisor teeth, descend, and are inserted into the integument 
 
 of the chin. By their action they throw up the chin and 
 
 project the lower lip. 
 Q. The Buccinator forms the fleshy part of the cheeks. It acts 
 
 principally in turning the morsel in the mouth. Its fibres 
 
 are inserted into the angles of the mouth. 
 k. Fibres of the Platysma Myoides, which ascend from the neck 
 
 upon the side of the cheek. 
 
 PLATE Ul 
 
 MUSCLES OF A DOG'S FACE. 
 
 A a. Circular fibres, which surround the eye-lids. 
 
 bpd. Accessory Muscles, which I name Scintillaiites. They 
 
 draw back the eye-lids from the eye-ball. 
 G h. Muscles of the Ear. 
 
 i k. A Mass of Muscular Fibres, always the strongest in this class 
 of animals, and which, with those concealed under them, 
 I call Bingentes. They raise the upper lip and expose the 
 teeth. 
 
 l. Muscles which move the nostril in smelling. 
 
 m. Circular Fibres of the Mouth, which yet do not make a perfect 
 orbicular muscle. 
 
 n. A Muscle which answers to the Zygomaticus in man, and which 
 has great power in this animal : it reaches from the ear to 
 the angle of the mouth. It opens the mouth, retracts the 
 lips, and disengages them from the teeth, as in seizing 
 their prey. 
 
 o. The Cutaneous Muscle. It sends up a web of fibres fiom the 
 neck on the side of the face : they are stronger here than 
 in man. 
 
PLATE III. 
 
PLATE IV. 
 
EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES. 
 
 253 
 
 PLATE IV. 
 
 NERVES OP THE FACE AND NECK. 
 
 I. Frontal or supra-orbitary branch of the fifth nerve of the 
 brain ; the terminating branch of the first or ophthalmic division : 
 arising simply from the larger or ganglionic root of the fifth nerve, 
 it bestows sensation alone. 
 
 II. Superior maxillary, or infra-orbitary branch of the fifth nerve, 
 the terminating branch of the second division : arising simply, like 
 the last, from the sensitive root, it bestows sensation alone. 
 
 III. Mental, or inferior maxillary branch of the fifth nerve : it 
 arises from the third division : by referring to the wood engraving 
 (p. 217) it will be seen that this branch comes simply from the 
 sensitive root ; and it gives sensation alone. 
 
 IV. Temporal branches of the fifth nerve : they arise in common 
 with the preceding branch, and bestow sensation alone. 
 
 V. This nerve is the only branch of the fifth, arising from the 
 smaller or motor root, which appears superficially : it is called 
 buccalis-labialis, from supplying the buccinator muscle, and muscles 
 at the angle of the mouth ; and it associates these parts with the 
 muscles of the jaws in mastication. 
 
 The branches of the motor root of the fifth, which go to the more 
 powerful muscles of the jaws, are situated deeply, and are not repre- 
 sented in the plate. Their distribution may be understood by 
 looking to the wood engraving (p. 217). 
 
 VI. VII, VIII, IX. These are spinal nerves ; the first of the 
 series which come out, between the vertebra, in the whole length of 
 the spine, to supply the body generally with motion and sensation. 
 
 a. Portio Dura, or Facial Nerve : the motor nerve of the 
 features. Arising from the medulla oblongata, close to the 
 origins of the Nervus Vagus, the Glosso-Pharyngeal, and 
 Spinal Accessory nerves, included in the respiratory class, it 
 appears superficially before the ear. In front of the ear, and 
 while lying upon the two principal muscles of mastication, 
 viz., the masseter and temporal muscles, it forms a web or 
 plexus ; but it gives no branch to any of the muscles of the 
 jaws. Its branches pass off as follows : — 
 a. Frontal branches to the muscles of the forehead and eye- 
 brow. 
 
 6. Branches to the eye-lids. 
 
 c. Branches to the muscles which move the nostrils and 
 upper lip. 
 
 d. Branches to the lower lip. 
 
254 
 
 EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES. 
 
 e. Branches going down upon the side of the neck. 
 
 f. Connections with the Cervical Spinal Nerves. 
 
 g. A Nerve to the Occipital portion of the Occipito-froL talis 
 muscle, and to muscles of the ear. 
 
 b. The Nervus Vagus, or grand respiratory nerve. 
 
 c. The Spinal Accessory Nerve. 
 
 d. The Ninth nerve ; motor Nerve of the tongue. 
 
 e. Diaphragmatic Nerve. 
 
 f. Branch of the Sympathetic Nerve. 
 
 G. Superior Laryngeal Nerve, a branch of the Nervus Vagus. 
 h. Inferior or Recurrent Laryngeal Nerve, a branch of the Nervus 
 Vagus. 
 
 L Glosso-Pharyngeal Nerve 
 
 LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. 
 
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