THE OSLER LIBRARY MCGILL UNIVERSITY MONTREAL ACC. Cj 2.H- tV f e ^ijt^ y^ ^ . I c . /8x y PHRENOLOGY, IN CONNEXION WITH THE STUDY OF PHYSIOGNOMY. BY G. SPURZHEIM, M.D. OF THE UNIVERSITIES OF VIENNA AND PARIS, AND LICENTIATE OF THE ROYAL COLLEOE OF PHYSICIANS OF LONDON. ^ PART 1. CHARACTERS. WITH THIRTY-FOUR PLATES, LONDON: PUBLISHED BY TREUTTEL, WURTZ, AND RICHTER, so. SOHO-SQUARE i SOLD ALSO BY HILL AND SON, EDINBURGH; DUFFIELD, BATH; AND CHARLES ARCHER, DAME-STREET, DUBLIN. MDCCCXXVI. \_Entered at Stationers' Hall.l • LONDON 5 Printed by WILLIAM CLOWES, N or thurabnri and-cour t. CONTENTS. Notice to the Reader . Introduction Definition of Physiognomy The Study of Physiognomy very ancient .Difference betwen Physiognomy and Pathognomy Theory and Practice of a Science SECTION I. Page vii 1 ib. 3 5 8 Chap. I.—Physiognomical Signs of the Body Size and Configuration of the Body Organic Constitution or Temperament of the Body Physiognomy of the Body of the Sexes Chap. II.—Physiognomical Signs of the Face Faces of the Se^es ... National Faces ... Chap. III.—Physiognomical Signs of the Head Mode of Considering the Physiognomical Signs . of the Head .... Heads of the Sexes Heads of various Nations 13 14 15 17 19 23 ib. 30 ib. 40 43 SECTION II. Chap. I.—Characters in relation to Morality . 49 Caracalla and Zeno . . .52 Nero and Seneca . . • 59 Cardinal Richelieu and Walsingham . 64 Alexander VI. and Fr. Oberlin . • 71 Godoi, Prince of Peace, and Peter Jeannin . 75 CONTENTS. Page Chap. I.—Danton and Malesherbes 81 Gregory VII. and Pius VII. . ‘ . SS Chap. II.—Religious Characters . 94 Deacon Paris and Aug. Baker .95 Cajetanus and John Crasset . . 99 Joseph Priestley and Richard Price . 101 Martin V. and Lejeune . .107 Chap. III.—Independent Characters » . 114 Prince of Orange and Ramus . , .115 Stubbs and Gustavus Schlabrendorf , 124 Chap. IV.—Ambitious Characters . . . .129 Philip II. and Catherine II. . . ISO Lalande and Vanieres . . . 136 Six Figures indicating Vanity . . 139 Chap. V.—Gay Characters . • . . . 143 Piron and Carlin . . .144 Chap. VI.—Timid and Bold Characters . 147 The Skull of a Timid Woman and that of a Courageous Man . . . ib. Cicero and the Gladiator . . .148 Martin Luther and Melancthon . .154 Charles XII. and Sully . . .164 Elements of various Characters . . 183 Summary View and Conclusion . , 191 -If ■ DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDER. Plate Page Plate I. to he 'placed opposite 16 XX. IT. 18 XXL III. . ... . 20 XXII. IV. V. . . . 25 XXIII. VI. 31 XXIV. VII. VIII. and XI. . 33 XXV. . IX ... . 36 XXVI. X. 37 XXVII. ' . XIL 40 XXVIII. XIII. 46 XXIX. XIV. 52 XXX. XV. . . . 59 XXXI. XVI. 64 XXXII. XVII. . ' . 71 XXXIII. . XVIII. 74 XXXIV. XIX. 81 Page 85 95 99 101 107 115 124. 130 136 139 144 147 148 154 164 / PUBLISHED BY THE SAME AUTHOR IN ENGLISH. Anatomy of the Brain. * Phrenology, or the Doctrine of the Relations between Mind and Body. Philosophical Principles of Phrenology. Outlines of Phrenology. Observations on Insanity. Elementary Principles of Education. Examination of the Objections made in Great Britain against Phrenology. NOTICE TO THE READER. This work has for some time been announced in several of my other publications. Various occupations have still prevented me from bringing it to a close. At present I publish no more than the First Part, on Characters, It will assist the friends of Phrenology in the application of their science, and in the study of the peculiar cerebral organiza¬ tion which is the concomitant of individual characters. By a careful perusal of this first part they will also best prepare themselves to understand the second and more difficult part of practical Phrenology, which has the organs necessary to the display of the arts and sciences for its object. INTRODUCTION. The word Physiognomy, considered etymologi¬ cally, signifies the knowledge of nature at large. Sometimes, however, it is employed to designate the configuration, and, even more commonly, the expression of the countenance. In another sense, again, it is used to imply a knowledge of the external signs which proclaim internal qualities. It is in the latter acceptation that I shall employ the term in this volume. Entire nature, therefore, may be comprehended in the study of physiognomy; inanimate objects as well as living beings are included: there IS, for instance, a physiognomy of the heavens ; some forms and characters of clouds portend wind] certain others rain, others thunder, others fine weather. See. Again, the husbandman judges by the aspect of the soil whether it be dry or Wet, light or heavy, rich or poor, adapted to the production of wheat, barley, grass, potatoes, or fruit-trees. In botany, too, a very important branch, vis., 2 judgment in regard to the healthy or diseased state of plants, depends on the observance of ex¬ ternal signs. The gardener regards that tree as weak which begins to lose its leaves at the end of the branches. Guided by their appearance, we choose or reject apples, oranges, and other fruits. We fre¬ quently say: This pear, or this orange has a nice look—it seems to be good.' The qualities of animals, moreover, are exhi¬ bited in their physiognomy. Celerity is visible in the configuration of the roe, sluggishness in that of the bear; innocence in the countenance of the lamb, and general activity in the rapid motions of the monkey’s eyes. Medical men speak of consumptive or apoplec¬ tic conformations of body; they judge of the corporeal state, in regard to health or disease, by the heat and appearance of the skin, by the pulse and respiration, by the countenance and other external signs. The muscular configuration of the Hercules, as indicating strength, and the graceful figure of the Hebe, are generally admired. Finally, the affec¬ tive and intellectual characters of mair, in the healthy and diseased states, are proclaimed by physiognomical signs. In looking around us, we distinguish, as by intuition, the benevolent, candid, and modest individual from another who is cruel, artful, and haughty. 3 A man, full of candour and probity, says Mar¬ cus Aurelius, spreads around him a perfume of a characteristic nature; his soul and character are seen in his face and in his eyes. Persons without education, who have no recoL lection of ever having heard of physiognomy, nay children and animals, are physiognomists. Even they who oppose the study of physiognomy fre¬ quently make use of its language; they speak, for instance, of noble, fierce, severe, bold, placid, thinking, benevolent, and open countenances; of the exterior of a priest, philosopher, fool, knave, &c.; they say, I like the look of that person, or, I could not place any confidence on such a man, &c. Moreover, poets and philosophers, both of an¬ cient and modern times, have always made use of many physiognomical expressions. Solomon said: “ A haughty person, a wicked man, walks with a froward mouth, he winks with his ey6s, he speaks with his feet, he teaches with his fingers*.” Ecclesiasticus observed, “ that the heart of a man changes his countenance, whether it be for good or for evil; and a merry heart makes a cheerful countenancef.^' “ The envious man has a wicked eye, he turns away his face and despises man “A man may be known by his look, and one that * Prov. vi. 12 , 13. t Ecclus. xiii. 29. t Ecclus. xiv. 8. B 2 4 has understanding by his countenance, when thou meetest him —Aristotle looked for external signs in the configuration and motions of the bodily parts. Cicero, Leibnitz, Herder, and many other ancient and modern writers have treated of this subject. “ You will make a choice,” says Montaigne, “ between persons who are unknown to you; you will prefer one to another, and this not on account of mere beauty of form. Some faces are agreeable, others unpleasant. There is an art of knowing the look of good-natured, weak- minded, wicked, melancholic, and other persons.” Bacon classed physiognomy among the sciences, and remarked that it was founded on observation, and ought to be cultivated as a branch of natural history. Lavater acquired great reputation by his physiognomical investigations. Finally, paint¬ ers, sculptors, actors, and all who play their parts in society at large, must feel anxious to learn something of such a subject. Is it not then astonishing that this science should consist of mere isolated observations still unreduced to principles ? Every one is con¬ scious of the various impressions made on him by others, but no one can in any wise account for them. The question then is, whether or not it be pos¬ sible, by observation and induction, to determine * EcckS. xiv. 29. • * physiognomical signs, in regard to the fundamen¬ tal powers of the mind ? Lavater, who wrote fragments on physiognomy, and who styles him¬ self a fragment of a physiognomist, maintains, nevertheless, that physiognomy exists as a true seienee. With this opinion of Lavater I agree entirely. Let us, therefore, begin by determining where¬ in the study of the physiognomical signs of the alFective and intellectual faculties of man consists. Whether, for instanee, the respeetive signs are to be sought for in the size and eonfiguration of the hard parts, or in the motions of the soft and flexible ones? This distinction between signs dependent on configuration and organic constitu¬ tion, and those emanating from gestures and mo¬ tions, is essential to the establishment of prin¬ ciples. Signs of the first kind proclaim innate dispositions and capacities of action. They con¬ stitute the study of physiogriomj/, strictly Speaking. Signs of the second kind, again, indicate powers in action, and constitute what is called pathognomy, or natural language. The latter description of signs is not included in the plan of this work; it will be examined in a separate treatise : at present I treat of the physiognomical signs alone. Whilst some who cultivate physiognomy look for signs over the whole of the body, others search for them in particular parts of it only. Lavater conceived it possible to discover physiog- 6 noiTiical signs of the affective and intellectual powers in the whole body. He declares posi¬ tively, that the same force builds up every part; that such an eye supposes such a forehead and such a beard; in short, that each isolated part indicates the configuration of the whole, as, for example, that all parts are oval if the head present that form : hence that man is a unit, and that his size, form, colour, hair, nose, mouth, skin, ears, hands, feet, bones, muscles, arteries, veins, nerves, voice, affections, passions, &c., are all and ever in harmony with each other. According to this hypothesis, an unsightly person ought to be the concomitant of an unen¬ viable soul. The contrary of this, however, is observed every day. Esop and Socrates are proofs that a fine form is not necessary to great¬ ness of talent and to generosity of feeling. In¬ deed, Euripides, Plutarch, and Seneca have long ago maintained the inaccuracy of such an opinion. Lavater himself was obliged to acknowledge, that ungainly forms are sometimes combined with honesty of character, and that individuals, beau¬ tiful and well-proportioned, are occasionally de¬ ceitful. “ I have often seen (says he) a contra¬ diction between the solid and flexible parts, and every one may possess certain qualities, without the respective signs.” He, therefore, admits ex¬ ceptions, and his assertions contradict each other. This, however, is not the case in nature. She 7 makes no exceptions from her laws, and is never in contradiction with herself. Moreover, the individual parts of the body are not proportionate to each other. The head of Pericles was too large for his body, hence the ancient artists who made his bust thought it necessary to conceal this dis¬ proportion by covering the head with a helmet. On the other hand, small heads are often found upon large bodies. There is occasionally a re¬ semblance observable between the nose, mouth, or some'Other part of different individuals, whilst all the rest of their persons is extremely unlike. Now, as every part has its particular function, and as each part indicates its special dispositions, it is impossible to find in any one part physiogno¬ mical sign of the functions performed by any other part whatever. It will be sufficient for my purpose merely to mention the error committed by those writers who, after La Porte, Lebrun, and others, compare the human face with that of certain animals. These comparisons, like fortune-telling and chiromancy, or the interpretation of moral dispositions from the form of the hand, are to be classed among the aberrations of the human understanding. Innumerable observations have proved, that the affective and intellectual faculties, as innate dispositions, are manifested by various parts of the brain. Hence the physiognomical signs of these faculties are to be sought for in the size and 8 organic constitution of the cerebral parts. Se¬ veral physiognomists, particularly Lavater, have already pointed out a few general signs of this kind in the configuration of the whole head, and in that of the forehead; but it is necessary to do more than this, vis., to determine individually the parts appropriated to, and the signs of, the spe¬ cial faculties, and also of the several combinations of these which constitute determinate characters. From numerous observations it further results, that not the size only, but also the organic con¬ stitution of the cerebral parts, must be taken into consideration before physiognomical signs of the mental operations can be established. They who attend to the mere size of the organs, and they who derive all from the influence of bodily con¬ stitution, or temperament, as it is called, are equally in error. For information in regard to the temperaments, I refer to my work on Phre¬ nology *. In this, as in every other subject of inquiry, it is important to distinguish between theory and practice. The true principles of a science may be established, but those who apply them may err. Lavater avows that he often made mistakes, and that he met with many persons in whom he could discover no particular sign whatever. Neverthe¬ less, he was persuaded of the reality of physio- * Page 24. 9 gnomy as a science. The art of surgery is posi¬ tive, yet there cannot be a doubt but that legs have been amputated which might have been saved; and in the practice of their art all surgeons have not the same dexterity. Every physician has not equal facility in distinguishing diseases; the healing art, nevertheless, exists. The adversaries of phrenologyare sedulous, and ready enou gh in exposing the errors which Dr. Gall and I and our disciples liave committed, but they carefully ab¬ stain from all mention of the numerous facts which we cite in support of our opinions. I do not conceive that phrenology has reached perfec¬ tion now, nor do I hope that its application, even when perfect, will always be without error. I have frequently been obliged to rectify my judgment, but I always endeavour to profit by my mistakes. If the study of physiognomy is to be abandoned, because they who practise it have committed errors, there is no art or science which should not, for a like reason, be given up. Is there any chemist, physician, general, artist, lawyer, or priest, who can say that he has never erred in the practice of his profession ? Let us observe further, that in the study of physiognomy, as of every other science, there are few who take pleasure in reflecting on its prin¬ ciples. Man is naturally more disposed to ad¬ mire the effects of an ingenious machine than to examine the mechanical laws according to which 10 it is constructed. He likes better to visit a col¬ lection of butterflies than to inquire into the laws of nature, and would rather see the passions in action upon the stage, than search for their causes in the world around him. The figures of any work that contains plates almost certainly attract attention first; and its contents, if philosophical, are always examined last of all. J. J. Rousseau, in saying that the State of reflection is unnatural to man, and that he who reflects is a depraved animal, had pro¬ bably remarked, that the great majority of man¬ kind are afraid of study, that they prefer amuse¬ ment to instruction, and individual knowledge to reasoning. Practical knowledge, all must allow, is import¬ ant, but it ought to be combined with principles. My object is to teach both theory and prac¬ tice. The subject of this Volume is a practical appli¬ cation of Phrenology, which will, at the same time, illustrate and aid in proving the science. To study Nature by means of figures and artificial representations is less certain and less agreeable than to observe her in herself. Yet the informa¬ tion conveyed by delineations of forms is more ample and more accurate than can be commu- nicated by mere description. Hence those who would become phrenologists, derive far the greatest advantage from a course of practical 11 lectures, although the same number of forms be not there shewn as are, or may be, mentioned in books. The reason of this is, that notions of size and form can scarcely be acquired from any de¬ scription, whilst they are gained at once by means of the touch and sight. Moreover, reading does not excite the same degree of attention as demonstration. In reading, for instance, of differences between the heads and brains of carnivorous and herbivorous animals, the attention is less fixed than when the actual heads and brains are placed before us, and their points of difference are ascertained by the eye and the hand. Finally, ocular demonstration has more weight, and carries conviction more forcibly with it than a mere report. Those of my readers who incline to interest themselves in the study and scientific discussion of the principles of Phrenology, I must refer to the respective publications on that science, and on the philosophy of which it forms the basis. Here I confine myself to historical facts, which, if true, will occur and be observed again. Let those, therefore, who would see with their own eyes, observe individuals distinguished by peculiarity of character or greatness of talents, and examine the size and eonfiguration of the con¬ comitant heads, and they will find that nature is not influenced by false and subtle argumenta¬ tions. 12 I shall subdivide this, the first part of the work, into two sections. In the first I shall make ome observations on bodily configuration and organic constitution generally, in connexion with adaptation to peculiar functions; on the differ¬ ence in the heads and faces of individuals, whose characters are opposed to each other; and on the difference between the heads of the sexes and of different nations; in the second, I shall com¬ pare the characters of various individuals, with the accompanying cerebral organization. In order to escape all cabalistic quibbling on the part of adversaries, I repeat once more, that the size of the brain is not the only condition which gives energy to its functions; but that the bodily constitution, and the exercise, and the mutual influence of the faculties also modify their activity. I repeat, too, that I make a dis¬ tinction between innate dispositions and the ac¬ tivity they possess, and also between signs of dispositions and signs of their activity. I add, that I treat in this place of physiognomical signs only, i. 6., of signs which indicate innate dispo¬ sitions. 13 SECTION I. Of the Physiognomical Signs of the Body, Face, and Head in general. It is scarcely necessary to remark, that the or- I ganization of the body being destined to certain • I functions, must act with more or less energy and facility, according as the conditions necessary inhere in its nature ; for this is only saying, that | there is a relation between a cause and its effect. The discovery of the conditions which are neces¬ sary to the performance of function is the object of physiognomical research. This section will be found subdivided into three chapters: the first of | these treats of the body, the second of the face, and the third of the head, ; i _ 1 1 Chapter I. | Of the Physiognomical Signs of the Body. The physiognomical signs of the body are of two kinds: they relate to the size and configuration of the body, or they concern its intimate consti- * tution. i 14 I .—Of the Sis6 and Configuration of the Body. The influence of the body on its functions, and the external signs which indicate more or less fa¬ cility of acting are generally enough recognised. Short and thick limbs are commonly considered as signs of strength, long and slender limbs as indications of celerity. A courier must have good lungs, a blacksmith muscular arms, and so on. The graceful and delicate form of an Anti- nous can never be supposed capable of the la¬ bours for which the ponderous figures of a Her¬ cules and a Milo proclaim their fitness. No artist will ever conceive Jupiter with a misshapen Faun or a Cyclops for his cupbearer. The bodily con¬ figuration of an actor is of great importance to the effective representation of many characters. It appears evident then, that certain sizes and forms of the body have been felt as fitting it for the performance of particular functions. But it may still be asked, whether the qualities of the body at large indicate the affective and intellec¬ tual dispositions ? Experience proves that they do not: sentiments and talents bear no kind of relation to the size and form of the whole body; nay, it would even seem that very tall men are commonly less gifted with understanding than persons of middling size. 15 IL—0/ the, Orgamc Constitution or Temperament of the Body. The detailed consideration of the influence of the organic constitution of the body belongs ^to phy¬ siology. Here I only mention that I employ the word temperament in reference to mixtures of the constituent elements of the body. There can be no doubt but the functions which contribute particularly to nutrition, those, for instance, of the stomach, liver, intestines, lungs, heart, as they are in a healthy or diseased state, modify the whole organization, and influence the energy with which the individual parts act. Sometimes it would appear as if the vital power were en- concentrated in one system, to the detriment of all the others. The muscular or athletic con¬ stitution is often possessed of very little nervous sensibility; and, on the other hand, great' activity of the brain seems frequently to check muscular development. Thus it is important, in a physiological point of view, to take into account the peculiar constitu¬ tion or temperament of individuals, not as the cause of determinate faculties, but as influencing the energy with which the special functions of the several organs are manifested. Their acti¬ vity, generally, is diminished by disorder in the functions of vegetative life, and it is favoured by \ 16 the sanguine, and still more by the nervous, con¬ stitution. A lymphatic, a sanguine, a bilious, and a nervous temperament, are therefore spoken of with perfect propriety, as indicating four degrees of activity in the vegetative and phrenic func¬ tions ; but determinate faculties of the mind are erroneously ascribed to individual temperaments; memory, for instance, and sensuality to the san¬ guine constitution, irascibility and penetration to the bilious, and so on. In the sense just mentioned I admit four tem¬ peraments, in reference to the manifestation of the mental powers. 1. The lymphatic constitution, or phlegmatic temperament, is indicated by a pale white skin, fair hair, roundness of form, and repletion of the cellular tissue. The flesh is soft, the vital ac¬ tions are languid, the pulse is feeble; all indicates slowness and weakness in the vegetative, affec¬ tive, and intellectual functions. PI. i. fig. 1. 2. The sanguine temperament is proclaimed by a tolerable consistency of flesh, moderate plump¬ ness of parts, ‘light or chestnut hair, blue eyes, great activity of the arterial system, a strong, full, and frequent pulse, and an animated coun¬ tenance. Persons thus constituted are easily af¬ fected by external impressions, and possess greater energy than those of the former tempera¬ ment. PI. i. fig. 2. 3. The bilious temperament is characterized by 17 black hair, a dark, yellowish, or brown skin, black eyes, moderately full, but firm muscles, and harshly-expressed forms. Those endowed with this constitution have a strongly marked and decided expression of countenance; they mani¬ fest great general activity, and functional energy. PI. i. fig. 3, Brutus. 4. The external signs of the nervous tempera* ment are fine thin hair, delicate health, general emaciation, and smallness of the muscles, rapi¬ dity in the muscular actions, vivacity in the sen¬ sations. The nervous system of individuals so constituted, preponderates extremely, and they exhibit great nervous sensibility. PI. i. fig. 4, Montesquieu. These four temperaments are seldom to be ob¬ served pure and unmixed; it is even difficult to meet them without modifications. They are mostly found conjoined, and occur as lymphatic-sanguine, lymphatic-bilious, sanguine-lymphatic, sanguine- bilious, sanguine-nervous, bilious-lymphatic, bi¬ lious-sanguine, bilious-nervous, &c. The indivi¬ dual temperaments which predonlinate may be determined, but it is difficult to point out every modification. in .—On the Physiognomical Signs of the Body of the Sexes. The signs wliich characterize the bodies of both c 18 sexes are examined in many anatomical and phy¬ siological works: these may therefore be con¬ sulted by those who would study this branch in detail. A few general observations will answer my purpose here. The female body is generally smaller, and more delicate than the male; the extremities too are shorter and proportionately more slender, the projections of the bones less marked, the neck apparently longer, in conse¬ quence of the shoulders drooping considerably, the larynx less prominent, the clavicle less curved, the chest shorter but more expanded, the sternum shorter but broader, the lumbar vertebrse longer, the abdomen larger, the necks of the thigh bones longer and more transverse, and the pelvis re¬ latively more capacious in the female, than in the male. If the female body be placed between two parallel lines drawn so as just to include the chest, the pelvis will be seen to extend beyond them (PI. ii. fig. 3.); whilst the male body simi¬ larly circumstanced, will have its pelvis contained within the lines, and the shoulders projecting be¬ yond them. (Pi. ii. fig. 4.) Thus the chest is re¬ latively wider in man, the pelvis in woman. More¬ over, in the female constitution the lymphatic and cellular systems predominate; the figure, there¬ fore, is rounder, the parts softer, the whole more graceful and pliant than the male form, the general exterior of which is marked by angu¬ larity and hardness or boldness of outline. The V -w f.' PLfl. Fiy.r. 19 bodies of both sexes, then, being destined by na¬ ture to different functions, are modified accord¬ ingly ; and he whose eye is somewhat exercised in appreciating forms, will at once detect the fe¬ male in male, and the male in female, attire. There can be no necessity for multiplying proofs ttpon this subject. The truth of my proposition is indeed generally admitted, and I only mention the matter here, for the sake of bringing it into connexion with new considerations. Chapter II. On the Physiognomical Signs of the Face. We are all in the habit of examining features and countenances; artists, especially, pay particular attention to such points, and it is generally ad¬ mitted that no two faces are exactly alike. Shall we inquire, then, are there certain faces which correspond with individual characters ? In order to have a right apprehension of this subject, it will be necessary to call to mind the difference which has been established between physiognomical and pathognomical signs. This done, we can then say positively, that neither does the configuration of the whole face, nor of any of its parts, except as development of brain is concerned, indicate the C 2 20 dispositions of the mind; the same character and the same talents may be observed in persons of different size and form, or whose nose, mouth, chin, cheeks, &c., are extremely different; and on the other hand, individuals endowed with different talents may often be seen who bear a strong re¬ semblance to each other. Individuals with beau¬ tiful, plain, and ugly faces may be eminent indif¬ ferently in virtue, or in vice. The nose and cheeks of the wisest of men, Socrates, certainly exhibit no sign of superiority. In order to show the er¬ roneous proceeding of those who confound the configuration of the face with the movements of its soft parts, I shall copy some figures from the work of Lavater, and add his judgment upon them. PI. iii. presents portraits of four persons of su¬ perior talents: fig. 1. is Vesalius; fig. 2. Gessner; fig. 3. Descartes, and fig. 4. an individual not named by Lavater. These four faces and their individual parts are certainly very unlike each other; but let us see what Lavater thinks of them *, The portrait of Vesalius, says he, deserves the attention of an enlightened physiognomist. The nose alone indicates a sound and solid judgment, or, in better terms, is inseparable from good sense. In the profile of John Gessner, Lavater found the expression of the deepest judgment, of im- * Fragment vli. The Study of the Intellectual Physiog¬ nomies. /y ///. 1 21 mense learning, of extraordinary facility in de¬ termining with precision the objects of the senses by abstract signs ; of an astonishing capacity for arrangement and classification, of superior talents for comparing objects, of an excellent, benevolent character, great modesty, exemplary patience, strong probity and truly Christian sentiments. The portrait of Descartes, according to Lavater, proclaims one of the greatest geniuses, one of those who owe everything to themselves, who are constantly urged forw'ard, and maintained by their own powers, who remove obstacles and im¬ pediments of every description, opening up new paths, and occupying unknown fields. Of the fourth figure Lavater says, it is impos¬ sible to comprehend the judgment of this man. His views are exceedingly precise. He can exa¬ mine objects mediately or immeditely, his opi¬ nion is always clear, and the most suitable ex¬ pressions indicate his ideas. He readily recol¬ lects external impressions, and learns with ease the most difficult languages. Moreover his judg¬ ment is sound and excellent. The most perfect wisdom -shines in his look, and appears in the form of his nose. Now as the chins, lips, cheeks and noses of these four illustrious persons present very differ¬ ent configurations, I think that Lavater’s opinion of their talents and characters was formed from the expression produced by the motions of the I ^7 22 soft parts; that is, from pathognomical signs, rather than from the configuration of the different members of their faces. The language of Lavater is obviously always vague; he seldom or never specifies the particular form of the part on which he founds his judgment. Yet it is true that certain forms of face do agree better than others with certain characters. This, however, happens not because configuration of face produces character, but because configura¬ tion of face is an effect of the agency of certain natural laws with which this is of course in har¬ mony. The artist, therefore, requires to design his figures in harmony with the characters he would express ; to portray a severe and unbend¬ ing character, he will certainly never choose the head of a Madonna as the medium for embodying his conception; neither will he, with the view of exhibiting the mild and gentle character of a Saint John, ever fix on such a form as that of a Pope Gregory VII. (PI. xx. fig. I.) The countenance of an actor is also admitted to harmonize or to disagree with the particular characters he may perform. Nevertheless, it remains certain that the same character is to be observed in conjunc¬ tion with very dissimilar faces, and that the cha¬ racter by no means depends on the configuration of the face, although the face and character har¬ monize, just as do all the parts of a good picture. In a landscape, for instance, if all the objects oii 23 shore indicate tranquillity and repose, the sea is never represented as agitated by a tempest. Of the Faces of the Sexes. It is not by the beard only that the male is dis¬ tinguished from the female face. This part, like the body in general, has characteristic peculiari¬ ties in each sex. The features of the feminine countenance as well as body, are softer, rounder and more flexible than those of the male, which, in harmony with the outlines of his person at large, are angular, hard and stiff. Although the analogy in the general outline of the two figures 1 and 2 PI. ii., be very evident, still the former is at once recognised for a female, the latter for a male coun¬ tenance. But, indeed, the characteristic features of the male and female face are generally enough understood. Occasionally, however, deviations from the general law occur, and female faces may sometimes be observed which resemble the male countenance, or the contrary. The expression of “ a masculine countenance" in reference to a woman, proves that such exceptions have been noted. Of National Faces. Experience shows that the majority of indi¬ viduals composing nations have something cha¬ racteristic in their countenances. The Chinese 24 can never be confounded with the English face; the Negro can never be taken for an Italian, nor the Grecian for an Esquimaux. The Jews, though they have been dispersed over all the countries, and have lived in all the climates of the globe for many centuries, still preserve a particular and distinguishing physiognomy. Peculiarities even mark the two tribes of Judah and Benjamin ; in that of Judah, for example, the face is round, and the cheeks are prominent, while in the tribe of Benjamin, the face is lengthened, the cheeks are but slightly prominent, the nose is aquiline, and the eyes lively; the whole, in short, composes what is called an oriental countenance. To observe varieties in national physiognomy, it is not necessary to visit foreign or extremely remote countries. We need not take a journey to Arabia, Madagascar, China, or Mexico, for this purpose ; we have but to examine the inhabitants of different provinces of the same country to be convinced of the great variety that reigns; in France, for instance, we may observe the natives of Picardy, of Normandy, of Burgundy, of Gas- cogny, &c., to be very different in appearance from each other. The Westphalians, Saxons, Bavarians, Suabians, &c,, have all very different physiognomies. The inhabitants of the south¬ west of Scotland, those of the north-east, and those of the Highlands, belong to three different races. England and Ireland having been occu- PIT: 25 pied by various nations, particular districts of each have a population origiaally different. In the county of Norfolk the same round and well-fed figures are seen which Rubens has transferred to his canvass from natives of Holland. On the borders between Scotland and England, the Roman form of face is still found. In the south, again, the Saxon face is very common. In short, there are, beyond any doubt, national faces. The figs. 1, 2, and 3, of PI. iv. will never be taken for Grecian beauties; did I find a face like fig. 4, of the same plate, in England or Ireland, I should at once consider it as of foreign extraction. The first figure is taken from the work of M. Choris*. It is the portrait of a chief of Malayan origin of the gulf Kutusoff-Smolensky. The second is the portrait of Hyder Aly, a khan of Mongolian blood; the third is easily distinguished as the like¬ ness of a Jew; and the fourth is the portrait of Hannibal. On account of the importance and interesting nature of the subject, I shall still give four por¬ traits as national examples, all of which may fre¬ quently be observed in Europe. PI. V, fig. 1, is Buchanan, a configuration of more common occurrence in the south, than in the north, of Europe; I have however, seen it in the south-western part of Ireland, and in the cor¬ responding district of Scotland. The forehead is * Voyage Pittoresque autour du Monde, Paris, 1820 . X7 26 f large, high, and inclined a little backwards j the root of the nose is prominent, the nose long and somewhat aquiline; the cheeks are little deve¬ loped, the mouth and lips middlingly so, the chin is prominent; the parts of the face are, in general, elongated and slender, and its whole form inclines to the conical. The temperament of this race is mostly a compound of the bilious with the ner¬ vous. This configuration resembles that which the Grecian artists selected as the finest and most beautiful of all, that, in fine, which is commonly called the Grecian face. However, as a great many of the eminent men of Greece, whose por¬ traits have reached us, present a configuration very different from that we have described, for instance, Solon, Themistocles, Alcibiades, So¬ crates, Demosthenes, Thucydides, and others, and further, as this form also occurs in countries known to have been occupied by Phoenician colo¬ nies, I prefer calling it the Phoenician face. It is conspicuous in many Grecian portraits, as in those of Miltiades, Bias, Leonidas, Anacreon, and others, but it is also evident in those of other na¬ tions, as of Hamilcar, Hannibal, Massinissa, Py¬ thagoras, Numa, St. Augustin, St. Athanasius, Polidore Caravaggio, Coligny, Arundel, Mayenne, Scaliger, Camden, &c. Fig. 2. Cato, the censor ; a portrait which pre¬ sents another characteristic form of face. The upper part of the forehead, and the region of the frontal sinus are very prominent; the root of the nose is depressed, the nose aquiline, the lips thick and elevated, the chin prominent and rounded; all the features large and strongly marked. The constitution which accompanies this configuration is commonly bilious, sanguine, or sanguine-nerv¬ ous. This form of face appears to have occurred among the Greeks, but I call it the Roman face, as it was more frequent among the Romans than any other ancient nation. We find it in the portraits of Solon, Themistocles, Antiochus, Philip of Ma- cedon,-Antisthenes, Aratus, Sylla, Marius, Julius Csesar, Marcus Agrippa, Vespasian, Diocletian, Theodosius the Great, Constantine, Lalli, Louis XI., King of France, St. Thomas Aquinas, Duns Scotus, &c. Fig. 3. Addison is a form of face in which the eyes often occur prominent, the nose being thick ' and short, the cheeks full, the lips thick, the mouth large, the jaw-bones, particularly the lower one, strong and large, the chin rounded, the face generally full and plump, and indicative of a san¬ guine-lymphatic constitution. It seems primi¬ tively to be of Tartarian origin; it is common in Germany, especially in Saxony, I therefore call it the Sojcofi face. It is seen in Leibnitz, Handel, Wolf, the Mareschal of Saxony, Argenson, Co¬ horn, La Chaussee, Desjardins, and others. Fig. 4. Isaac Watts: in this portrait the indi- 28 vidual parts are less strongly marked than in the Roman face; the forms are here gene¬ rally rounded. The upper part of the forehead is rather flat, but its lower region is particularly prominent; the root of the nose is elevated, less so, however, than in the Phoenician face; the eyes are not so full as in the Saxon form, the eye¬ lids are scanty, the orbits round, the cheeks the broadest part of the face; the nose is slender, straight, and of middling size, the chin is rounded and sometimes sloping, the jaw-bones are small, and the lower one is contracted on the sides. The accompanying temperament is bilious-ner¬ vous. This configuration is frequent in France, and in the Low Countries. I have also seen it in the South of Wales, and of England, and in the north-east of Ireland. It belongs to a Celtic or Gallic race. Traces of it are perceived in Bayle, Berghem, Boece, Mieris, Claude de Lorraine, Girardon, Moliere, Paul Potter, Poussin, Reau¬ mur, Vouet, Voiture, Van Ostade, Van der WerfF, &c. I had already remarked on Great Britain being inhabited by various tribes; this was what in¬ duced me to give portraits of three aniong her men of genius^ in order that I might show indi¬ vidual configurations of countenance, propagated from generation to generation. These configura¬ tions are permanent, if no admixture of foreign blood be permitted. I have already spoken of 29 this circumstance in reference to the Jews. Nay although the four races that have been particu¬ larized intermarry among themselves, and with others not precisely referable to either, the cha¬ racteristic features we have mentioned are still to be detected. In the portraits of many great men, as of Bourdaloue, Descartes, and Corneille, for instance, a mixture of the Gallic and Phoenician forms is conspicuous. What is called the Italian face, results from a blending of the Phoenician with the Roman features. In some individuals the Phoenician form predominates, as in Dante, Doria, Jansenius, Alexis Comines, Clisson, Leo¬ nardo da Vinci, Scanderberg, &c.; in others again, the Roman configuration prevails, as in the Pope Leo IV., Algarde, the Abb6 Barth^lemy, Du- prat, &c. My only intention here is to show that there are forms of face peculiar to tribes or races; these, however, get blended together and finally lose their characteristic traits, so as at length to be no longer recognizable, in proportion as the dif¬ ferent families of mankind intermarry. 30 CHAPTER III. Of the Physiognomical Signs of the whole Head. In the preceding chapter we have remarked that the body, according to its size, configuration and organic constitution, is variously adapted to different functions, and that it is modified in the sexes; moreover that there are characteristic sexual and national peculiarities of countenance. I shall now add that the form of the head at large is not matter of indifference in connexion with the manifestation of such or such mental dispo¬ sitions, and that there are characteristic male, fe¬ male, and national heads as well as faces. I shall begin this subject with some general re¬ marks, which I request the reader will continue to bear in mind. Mode of considering the Physiognomical Signs of the Head. The first point to be considered by the phreno¬ logist is, the bodily constitution of the individual subject of observation; whether this is lym¬ phatic, sanguine, bilious, nervous, or is made up by a mixture of these primitive temperaments. This preliminary step is necessary, in order to 31 enable him to conclude concerning the degree of activity possessed by the cerebral organs. He must then examine the head generally, in regard to size, and acquire ideas of what may be entitled small, middling, and large-sized heads. After this he will consider the relative size of the various regions of the head, and the develop¬ ment of the individual parts of each region, that is to say, the length and breadth of the parti¬ cular organs: finally he will ascertain the pro¬ portionate size of all organs to each other. To gain information upon these particulars, the head is to be viewed profile-wise, and divided into two regions by a vertical line, drawn from the orifice of the external ear, PI. vi. figs. 1. and 2. (a) to the point in the middle of the upper part of the head (b), which corresponds with the union of the frontal and sagittal sutures. The region behind the line a-b is the occipital, and that before it the frontal. The occipital and frontal regions are then compared, and their relative size determined. In fig. 1 the occipital region a b d \& larger than the frontal a b c ; while in fig. 2. the frontal region ex- ’ ceeds the occipital in size. We have to remark, that in common the occipital region is unfortunately more largely developed than the frontal. On this circumstance depends, in part, the general and excessive energy of the animal nature of man. In this view of the head, lines may also be drawn from the external opening of the ear (a). C7 32 to the different points in the circumference of the head, such as a-c; a-iab ; a-d; in order to learn in what direction the brain in the^ mesial line is the most developed. In PI. vi. fig. 1. the lines a-c and a-i are shorter than the lines a-b and a-d ; while in fig. 2. the lines a-c and a-i are the longest. Finally, in this view of the head, its length from the forehead to the occiput, c-d, and its height from the ear to the vertex, a-b, are to be noted. The head is now to be divided in its height into two regions, by a horizontal line passing from the middle of the forehead to the point of union between the parietal and occipital bones in other words, by a line extending from the organ of eventuality, under the organs of ideality circumspection, to terminate at the organ of inhabitiveness. The portion of the head below this line I entitle the basilar region, and that above it the sinciplitil or coronal. The former of these twa fegions is also generally larger than the latter. This is another cause of the great ^activity of the animal nature in mani A line, e-i, drawn from the external angle of the eye vertically, and parallel with a-b, will show the degree in which the forehead, strictly speak¬ ing, is developed, and also expose the relative volume of its inferior, e-c, and of its superior, c-i, portions. r1 » JP' t * n ■ -r ' . . ^ j-l . Jf 4 A • y PI pm. F^.i . 2 . 33 -•4 Finally, the width of the head is to be consi¬ dered, and its height and breadth to be compared with each other. In this way the proportion of the lateral to the upward parts of the head will be ascertained. The greater development of the lateral than of the superior region of the head likewise conduces to the great activity of the animal nature of man; and by far the greater number of individuals have wide rather than high heads. PI. vii. and pi. viii. present two figures each. PI. vii. fig. 1, is Vitellius; fig. 2. is a geometrician, after a picture in the gallery of the Louvre, at Paris. The basilar region is in the former very large, and the sincipital very small. In the second the head is still very wide, but it is proportionately higher than that of the Roman emperor. PI. viii. fig. 1. is Henry IV. of France, and fig. 2. is Raleigh. The heads of both figures are high rather than wide; but the latter is the higher of the two, in proportion to the lateral development. In order still further to inculcate the import¬ ance of attending to the relative degrees in which the different regions of the head are developed, I have given two additional figures in PI. xi. In fig. I. the lower portion of the forehead is very prominent; the nose is long and aquiline, and the upper portion of the forehead slopes backwards. This is a configuration upon which erroneous conclusions are apt to be formed. Those, 34 however, who understand phrenology, will not judge from external appearance alone, nor, with the inexperienced, be induced to prefer fig. 2. to fig. 1.; for the cerebral masses of the lower part of the forehead are actually larger in fig. 1. than in fig. 2. and the rest of the brain is of equal size in both. All other conditions being the same, the forehead of fig. 1. is therefore preferable to that of fig. 2. The portraits of Titus Livius, of Diderot, of Con- dorcct, and many others, must be judged of ac¬ cording to the above spirit. Once familiar with the comparative develop¬ ments of the various regions of the head, and of the individual portions of each, information in regard to the functions of the cerebral parts they severally include may next be required. In the forehead, strictly speaking, lie the organs of the intellectual faculties ; those of the perceptive powers occupying the space between e-c, pl.vi., and those of the reflective faculties that between c-i. The rest of the head is occupied by the organs of the affective powers; the basilar region with those of the faculties common to man and ani¬ mals, the greater part of the sincipital region with those (jf the powers peculiar to man. The occipital portion, pi. vi. o db,oi the sinci¬ pital region c db, deserves particular attention, on accoun t of the influence exerted by the organs it include s over the functions of all the others; for they stiff lulate them, and tend to maintain their 35 energy. This portion, in combination with the frontal region, in large proportion, fortifies the moral and reflective capacities; but when joined to great development of the basilar region, it gives increased vigour to the animal propensities, and renders the character rude and* brutal. Further, the degree in which the individual organs are developed requires to be ascertained. The study of the different regions will give much facility in this particular. Finally, the peculiarities of the special facul¬ ties are to be examined. They will be found discussed in my publications on Phrenology. To judge, then, by phrenological signs of the natural mental dispositions, the temperament is examined in the first instance; the size of the dif¬ ferent regions individually and relatively is next determined: here the relation of the basilar to the sincipital region, and of the frontal to the occipital, are the points especially to be attended to. Finally, the comparative size of the indivi¬ dual organs is ascertained. No one who follows this method can by any possibility fail of having conviction forced upon him, of the existence and reality of the cerebral organs. Of Differences among Heads. Pascal was right in saying that he could not TD conceive a man without a head. Let us add that the dissimilar characters of men coincide with the different conformations of their heads. What an error then must those modern artists commit, who neglect the size and form of the head in their portraits! Did they but intend to give an accu¬ rate likeness, some attention to the head is cer¬ tainly required; and if they would do more, viz., paint the moral and intellectual character, the utmost care in depicting the figure and volume of the skull is indispensable. PI. ix. figs. 1. and 2. represent active tem¬ peraments ; both heads have the same chin, mouth, nose, and eyes, but the most superficial observer will feel as by intuition that their mental dispositions differ, as he will perceive that their heads are altogether unlike. Suppose an artist sets about making the portrait either of fig. 1. or fig. 2., how impei'fect would the likeness be did he only imitate the lower parts of the face ; did he give fig. 1. the general form of the head of fig. 2. or the contrary! Judged of according to the principles of phrenology, fig. 1. has consider¬ able facility in acquiring individual knowledge, but little aptitude for philosophical reasoning; his animal inclinations are stronger than his moral sentiments; the latter, therefore, will have to struggle against the former. Fig. 2. on the con¬ trary, besides great ability to acquire information. PJ JK r 37 may reason profoundly on his knowledge. Such a head is fond of reflection, and can combat ani¬ mal propensities without difficulty. This phrenological judgment is founded on the following considerations: in fig. 1. the organs of the perceptive faculties are more largely deve¬ loped than those of the reflective powers, and the basilar is larger than the sincipital region ; whilst in fig. 2, both the lower and upper parts of the forehead are voluminous, and the sincipital re¬ gion exists in great proportion. I have given pi. x., figs. 1. and 2., to show that the whole face, the forehead inclusive, is not suf¬ ficient to convey a likeness, nor to indicate a cha¬ racter. Both figures were intended to have been drawn with the same face and forehead, the latter part, however, in fig. 2., is not exactly of the same formas in fig. 1.; but supposing it the same, every one will certainly judge differently of their characters, on account of the difference in the rest . of their heads. Fig. 1,1 consider as the portrait of a person religiously inclined, whose moral incli¬ nations, however, find great obstacles, in his self¬ esteem, and in his unbending disposition. He will be apt to espouse Calvinistic principles. He has pretty good intellectual powers, but his judg¬ ment will not be of the deepest kind. His verbal memory is moderate. The physiognomical signs which make me judge in this way, are as follows. The temperament is nervous; the sincipital is I ( !| ,1 \ ) j I I ! large, compared with the basilar region, and the I occipital part of the sincipital region is much i greater than its frontal portion. Such a charac¬ ter is severe, and inclined to acknowledge the im¬ mutable and eternal laws of nature as dictates of the Creator; to these he will at no time hesitate ! to subject his benevolence. Both portions of the forehead are of middling size; the eyes are small, and lie deep in their sockets. In fig. 2. a moral character of a very different description. He is modest, indulgent, and places charity above every other virtue. His religion consists in good works. He is not indifferent to distinctions and worldly pleasures, but he ac¬ knowledges the law according to which feelings and their actions must all be directed by moral principles. He will, however, never take the lead in any profession he may choose. 1 form this opinion from the large size of the sincipital region generally, and from observing that its frontal portion outmeasures its occipital one. The basi¬ lar region is not actually small, but it is inferior in size to the sincipital. Self-esteem is not large enough to push forward and take up a conspicu ous position. Thus it is very far from a matter of indiffer ence what form of head is joined to a given face ; artists, therefore, err when they imitate the face only of the individual whose portrait they would paint. 39 Comparison of the Face with the Cranium. Most persons attending to the face alone, con¬ found this with the head; Voltaire, for instance, is commonly enough cited as having had a small head, but Voltaire’s brain was very considerable, it was his face only that was small. Leo X. Leibnitz, Haller, Puffendorf, Addison, Franklin, Mirabeau, Fox, and many other men of [great talents, had both the brain and the face of large size. On the contrary, Bossuet, Voltaire, Kant, and others, had the brain large and the face small. This difference is even visible in whole tribes. To succeed in imitating nature exactly, and in producing the best possible likeness, artists do well to compare the face with the brain, but phrenologists and physiognomists do not find any sign of their science in the relative proportions of these parts. The Saxon is generally larger than the Phoenician face ; intelligence, however, is not less conspicuous in the Saxon, than it is in the Phoenician race. The face is commonly compared with the brain, and the talents then estimated by means of what is called the facial angle of Camper, but the utter erroneousness of this procedure is evident. How¬ ever gifted with talents, the Negro would still, were it confided in, be proclaimed inferior to the almost idiotic European. 40 Let it be remembered then that, in phrenology, the term head is taken as synonymous with that of brain, and that phrenological judgments, in re¬ gard to the innate dispositions of the mind, and of their manifestations, are always founded on the size and constitution of the brain and its parts. Of the Heads of the Sexes. The body and face vary in the two sexes; Do their brains ditfer likewise ? The talents and feelings in the male and female are commonly considered as dissimilar; indeed it is proverbially said that women feel and men think. This differ¬ ence has been attempted to be accounted for in various ways. Mallebranche thought that the female cerebral fibre was softer than that of the male. The majority of modern authors, however, have attributed the phenomenon to the modified education which the sexes receive. I here confine myself to observation, and this shews that in gene¬ ral the female head is smaller than that of the male ; it is often somewhat longer from the forehead to the occiput, but it is commonly narrower late¬ rally. The basilar region of the female head is also smaller, the occipital more elongated, and the frontal developed in a minor degree, the organs of the perceptive faculties being commonly larger than those of the reflective powers. The female ZT 41 cerebral fibre is slender and long rather than thick. Lastly, and in particular, the organs of philoprogenitiveness, of attachment, love of ap¬ probation, circumspection, secretiveness, ideality, and benevolence, are for the most part propor¬ tionately larger in the female (PI. xii. fig. 1.); while in the male those of amativeness, comba¬ tiveness, destructiveness, constructiveness, self¬ esteem, and firmness predominate. (PI. xii. fig. 2.) Some may perhaps object to the apparent con¬ tradiction in this announcement of the differences between the heads of the sexes. I say that the heads of men are wider than those of women, and then I state that I consider circumspection and secretiveness, whose organs lie laterally, as more generally active in the female than in the male. They who make this objection do not understand the phrenological principle, according to which the organs which are the most largely developed in every individual display the greatest energy, and take the lead of all the other powers. Now, although the female head be so commonly nar- rower than the male, the organs of secretiveness and circumspection are still the most prominent, and thus contribute essentially to the formation of the female character. Phrenologists, there¬ fore, in examining the physiognomical signs of the innate dispositions, never compare the heads of the sexes together, nor even those of two indi¬ viduals of the same sex; they judge of every 42 head individually, and form conclusions in regard to the dispositions generally, according as the organs of the respective faculties are developed. In my comparison of the heads of the sexes, I have only stated the general result of observa¬ tion. I do not mean to deny that the intelli¬ gence of some women is superior to that of many men, nor that men sometimes feel as women commonly do: on the contrary, there are indivi¬ dual exceptions from the general rule; and in them the cerebral organization also differs from the ordinary state. I grant that both sexes do not receive the same education; but surely no one will maintain that in all points girls are less attended to than boys. Indeed there can be no doubt but that girls are more commonly instructed in drawing, painting, and music than boys, and that females often .spend a great deal of time on these occupations. Further, emulation, or the love of approbation, is even a more active principle in the female than in the male sex; nevertheless, no woman has hitherto produced such works as those of Handel, Mozart, Haydn, Titian, Rubens, Raphael, Paul Veronese, Canova, and so many others. The female sex appears to greater advantage in actions which result from feeling. History records numerous instances of women distinguish¬ ing themselves by great disinterestedness, friend¬ ship, resignation, and exemplary probity. It is 43 quite evident that nature has destined the two sexes to particular and dissimilar situations, and that she has endowed the various dispositions of* each with different degrees of activity. Of Natioml Heads. Even from ancient times whole nations have been recognised as differing in character and ta¬ lents. The inhabitants of different islands, at no great distance from each other, have been found, in one, of a mild, peaceable and timid disposition, and amicably inclined to foreigners; in another, courageous, warlike, cruel and jealous of stran¬ gers ; in a third, cleanly or filthy, cunning or sin¬ cere, selfish or benevolent, and so on: a circum¬ stance which has led several authors to admit different races of the human species. Such varieties in disposition are conspicuous not only in nations very remote from each other, but also in tribes dwelling in each other’s vicinity, and even in the population of different provinces of the same country. It has happened, indeed, that the inhabitants of provinces, like whole na¬ tions, have had epithets applied to them indicative of their predominating character. In France, the inhabitants of Britany, Normandy, Burgundy, Picardy, Gascogny, ^c., are well known to pos¬ sess individual mental powers particularly strong. It is not, therefore, by any means sufficient to I / .ii ^ i!h ii 44 have seen the capital of an empire, to have dined with several families, or to have visited the public institutions, to know the character of a nation. In every metropolis there are mixtures of all na¬ tions, and of every variety of characters. More¬ over, travellers get mostly acquainted with in¬ dividuals of their own rank or profession: this explains why the reports made by different visi¬ tors to the same country often vary so widely from each other. Hence, in phrenology, it is ad¬ mitted as a principle, that no general inference, in regard to the talents and characters of whole nations, can be drawn from observations made on a few individuals. One negro may be a good musician or mathematician, but the whole race does not, on this account, excel in these talents. The same care is necessary in deciding on na¬ tional configurations of head. These, neverthe¬ less, exist, and may be determined; for they vary according to the kind of character and talent most generally possessed by the nation. The or¬ gans of form, constructiveness, and notoriety, are commonly large in France, and superior manual dexterity and nicety of configuration are percep¬ tible in many of her manufactures; in the article of millinery the French regulate the taste of all Europe, and their manners are eminently polite, winning, and elegant. It is quite positive that the inhabitants of cer¬ tain provinces of a country have greater abilities 45 than those of others; and this circumstance can only be attributed to superiority in the tribes which originally took possession of these favoured districts. The race from which we descend has undoubtedly far more influence on our talents than the climate of the country in which we live. This matter is not only interesting to philoso¬ phers, but also to governments. Would a legis¬ lator have his regulations permanent, he must adapt them to the character of the nation to whom they are given. A benevolent, intellectual, and well-informed person, for instance, can never adopt such religious ideas as content the cruel, stupid, and ignorant being. One nation is guided by vanity and selfish motives alone ; another re¬ quires to be led by reason, and will only submit to an enlightened and liberal government. The influence of the cerebral organization upon the affective and intellectual manifestations being ascertained, we cannot help regretting that travel¬ lers should still neglect the study of national characters, in connexion with that of national configurations of head. It seems reasonable to expect that the same interest should be taken in increasing our acquaintance with mankind, which is shewn in the advancement of natural history. Man is at least as noble an object as a plant or a shell; and as animals, plants, minerals, and shells are sedulously collected, I would ask why organic proofs of national characters, I mean skulls, or 46 casts taken from nature, or exact drawings, should not also be deemed worthy of some attention? Plate xiii. presents four national skulls; their form is as different as the character of the nations to which they belonged. Fig. 1. is the skull of a cannibal of Brazil: the frontal region is very low; the greatest mass of brain lies at the base of the head, particularly above the ears. Fig. 2. is the skull of a woman of the savage tribe W^abash, in North America: the occipital region is much larger than the frontal, and the basilar than the sincipital: the forehead, strictly speaking, is very small; the region of benevolence is quite de¬ pressed, but the organs of firmness and self¬ esteem are extremely large. Such a head is al¬ ways led with the greatest difficulty. How dif¬ ferent is the Hindoo skull, fig. 3., flattened on the sides, higher than it is broad, and containing the greatest portion of brain in the sincipital region. Fig. 4. is from Blumenbach’s work, and gi^en as a specimen of the ancient Greek. I consider this form as individual; but certainly a nation, the greater number of whose inhabitants were en¬ dowed with such a cerebral organization, would excel in many ways, and become the model for other nations to imitate. pi.xin /'V^. / /vy. . Fu) 2 Ftq 4 '. N' I iJi'i' 47 SECTION II. Of the Cerebral Organization of different Characters. The character is a product of the combination of affective with intellectual faculties. Although the variety of characters encountered in the world be infinite, they may still be arranged into classes according to the faculties which are most energe¬ tic, There are, for example, moral and immoral, religious and irreligious, haughty and humble, vin¬ dictive and forgiving, quarrelsome and peaceable, lively and serious, independent and servile cha¬ racters, and so on. In speaking of the cerebral organization of these and other characters, I shall give the portraits of individuals known for peculiarity of disposition; but then I may be asked if the portraits, as they exist, be faithful representations of the men. For my own part, I certainly do not rely implicitly on the accuracy of every one of the configurations which have been transmitted to posterity. I should recommend artists, for the future, to take a complete cast from the head of every man of great talents or remarkable character, and to hand down mental as well as personal likenesses. 48 and also to preserve and multiply the proofs of phrenology. Although it is evident that great differences in the form and size of the head have been imitated, by masters of eminence at least, still my principal object in publishing this work is rather to fix the attention of my readers on the relations that exist between manifestations of mind and cerebral organization, in individuals as well as in whole nations, than to persuade them by the examples I shall give, which nevertheless shew clearly the application that may be made of phrenology. By far the greater number of these portraits are from plates in the Cabinet d’Estampes of the great royal library at Paris. I thankfully ac¬ knowledge my obligations to M. Duchesne, the conservator, for his kindness in affording me every facility in furtherance of my design. The de¬ scriptions of the individual characters are taken from the Biographic Universelle, Ancienne etModerne, published by Michaud, freres ; from the Galerie Historique des Homines les plus Gelebres, published by Landon ; from the General Biographical Diction¬ ary, revised and enlarged by A. Chalmers ; and from the General Biography, by J. Aikin and W. Enfield. u 49 Chapter I. Portraits remarkable in relation to Morality. “ Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his right¬ eousness," says the Christian code; hut this law appears to be extremely difficult of accomplish¬ ment, for Christian righteousness, love thy neighbour as thyself, is the rarest thing in the world. The moral sentiments, particularly that of justice, exert a very secondary influence over the greater number of persons; the faculties common to man and animals determine the actions of the majority of mankind. This lamentable truth is generally admitted, and whilst various reasons have been assumed as accounting for it, all kinds of means have been thought of, and employed, in the view of strengthening the moral part of man: hitherto, however, the success attending these attempts has not been commensurate with the pains that have been taken. Deficiency in the superior sentiments, particularly in justice, is the cause why no large society has hitherto been able to maintain a republican form of government; why kings must be declared inviolable, and their ministers made responsible; why all religious systems admit future rewards and punishments; why so few persons can be left to themselves, and 17 50 positive laws are indispensable ; finally, why fear prevents more mischief, than love effects good. On the other hand, again, though their actions be not in conformity with its dictates, justice is felt and admired by the great bulk of mankind. Phrenology alone affords an explanation of this state of things. The sentiment of justice exists in a greater or less degree in every individual; it is at least felt and necessarily approved of by almost every one’s intelligence. The great mass of mankind, therefore, claim justice and assent to its being done, so long as their inferior or animal feelings, as amativeness, philoprogenitiveness, in¬ dividual attachment, self-esteem, love of approba¬ tion, acquisitiveness, or selfishnessin general, are not in opposition; but justice is commonly over¬ whelmed as soon as it is assailed by the animal pro¬ pensities ; the combat then becomes unequal, for very few possess justice strong enough to triumph over and keep the lower feelings in subordination. Hence the great facility with which mankind are corrupted—hence the great efficacy of a civil law, whose foundation is selfishness. Another commandment of Christianity says : “ All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.” This com¬ mandment is also seldom strictly accomplished ; to me, however, benevolence appears to be more active than justice among mankind at large. In- u 51 deed, the organ of the former feeling is commonly found in larger proportion than that of the latter. Let us now examine the portraits of a few indi¬ viduals, who have followed the moral precepts pretty closely, and compare their cerebral orga¬ nization with that of others who sought their pleasures and their happiness in immoral actions. It may appear strange, but it is not therefore the less certain, that the manifestations of the moral feelings depend on the brain. That which is, is ; this is the answer to any objection against this natural truth. It was the will of the Creator that the sentiments should be manifested by the brain, in the same way as it was his will that the mind should acquire notions of the external world by means of the senses. It is a fact, and must be admitted as such, that those who have the sinci¬ pital and frontal regions of the brain much more largely developed, than the basilar and occipital ones, shew noble and elevated feelings, and may be called the chosen among men. Again, that those who have the sincipital region of the head in the same proportion as the basilar one, mani¬ fest superior and inferior inclinations in nearly equal degrees ; and further, that those who have the basilar and occipital regions of the head more considerable than the sincipital and frontal parts, display much more of the animal than of the man in their conduct. It was given to St. John to love his master, and to Judas to betray him: in conformity. ' 52 Da Vinci, in his sublime composition of the Lord’s Supper, represents St. John with a noble hi^h head, and Judas with a villanous low one. The organ of justice is commonly smaller than any other of the sincipital organs, precisely as the feeling of justice is generally weaker than the other superior sentiments. A general remark remains to be made, vis., in stating that individuals of a cruel disposition have the organ of benevo¬ lence small, cruelty is not to be understood as resulting solely from the deficiency of benevo¬ lence; benevolence being inactive, the other faculties act in a manner called cruel, that is, without the restraint or guidance of benevolence and justice. In the following illustrations my procedure will be mostly the same. I shall first state my opi¬ nion upon the innate dispositions of each person whose portrait is given, supposing that it is an exact imitation of nature, and I shall then add historical outlines of the character, from the biographical works already mentioned. PLATE XIV. Fig. 1.— The Emperor Caracalla. Viewed according to phrenological principles, this is one of the most ignoble configurations of a head which it is possible to conceive. The basilar r\ /V Ml’ 53 region contains a great mass of brain, whilst the sincipital region is very small and contracted. The head, at the same time, is low, and very wide, particularly above and behind the ears. The forehead, too, is narrow, and by no means elevated. The organs of the lowest propensities predominate over those of the moral and religious sentiments, and of the reflective faculties, which are all exceedingly defective. An individual thus constituted, is the victim of his inferior appetites, and animal nature ; he is one who will delight in destruction, and prefer violent measures to mild¬ ness and clemency ; his desires can never be restrained by reason and benevolence; force alone will avail to keep him within bounds, and were he to succeed in throwing off the ties of the civil laws, it would not be with a view to philanthropy, but to seize the supreme power, and to tyrannize over his fellow-creatures. Born in the lower ranks of society, he would delight in vulgar and degrading amusements, and avoid the company of noble-minded and reason¬ able beings. He is unfit to excel in any art or science,—the whole tendency of his mind is to¬ wards brutal pleasures. History represents Caracalla as fierce, haughty, hypocritical, intriguing, licentious, implacable in his hatred to his brother, selfish, absurd, and detestably cruel in war and in every situation. He wished to possess all the money of the empire. 54 and spent whatever he could extort with prodi¬ gality in bribing the soldiers, in amusing and in attracting the attention of the rabble. His under¬ standing was limited, and he continued ignorant, notwithstanding the great care that was taken of his education. He shewed a mean curiosity, a contempt for letters, an aversion for every kind of dignity, and an attachment to the lowest and most worthless of characters. He even chose his ministers from among the low-minded villanous. He lived amid debauchery himself, and punished adultery with death: in general he affected a hy¬ pocritical zeal for morals and religion, while he perpetually violated the precepts of the former, and degraded the latter, by mixing magic and astrology with its tenets. His behaviour to his father, mother, and bro¬ ther alone suffices to show hia wretched character. In the Caledonian war he attempted to assassi¬ nate his father, and as he did not succeed, he tried to bribe his physicians to hasten his death by poison. He pretended to make peace with his brother, promised to divide the empire with him, hypocritically expressed on earnest desire for a reconciliation, and engaged his mother to procure him an interview with Geta in her own apartments. Geta, at his entrance, was presently assaulted by some centurions, whom Caracalla had placed in ambush. Seeing his danger, he ran and threw himself into his mother’s arms. 55 entreating her to save him, but Caracalla urged on the murderers, and they killed the unfortunate Geta in the arms of his mother. She herself was wounded in the arm, while attempting to protect her son. Caracalla then flew to the camp of the pretorian cohorts, prostrated himself be¬ fore the images of the tutelary deities, and in¬ formed the bystanders that he had just escaped the treacherous attempts of his brother Geta. He pacified the soldiers, and reconciled them to the loss of Geta by profuse donations; obliged his mother, by menaces against her life, to refrain from any manifestation of sorrow on the event, and justified the assassination before the senate on the plea of the necessary prevention of a si¬ milar design against himself. He put to death Fadilla, the only remaining daughter of the Em¬ peror Marcus Aurelius, and, under the name of riends and partisans of Geta, sacrified a vast number of persons whom he feared or suspected, not even sparing their children. The historian Dion speaks of twenty thousand victims immolated by Caracalla’s authority. It is not, therefore, astonishing that this monster became an object of execration to the Romans, and of contempt and horror to posterity, though he was deified after his death, by a decree of the senate. 56 Fig. 2.— Zeno, the Stoic. This portrait is from an antique bust, in the Royal Museum at Paris. It presents a cere¬ bral organization which must excite the admira¬ tion and respect of every phrenologist. The frontal and sincipital regions predominate greatly over those of the basis and occiput. The organs of benevolence, veneration, firmness, conscienti¬ ousness, cautiousness, ideality, and of the reflec¬ tive faculties, are eminently large, whilst those of the animal feelings are subordinate. The head is flattened on the sides, especially in the region of acquisitiveness and secretiveness. Such a brain is incompatible with grovelling and unworthy conceptions; it proclaims superiority in the moral character, and constitutes the sage. The fore¬ head is that of a deep thinker, and incompatible with stupidity. The mind, when manifested by means of such a cerebral organization, looks every¬ where for reason and morality ; it readily admits the immutable laws of the universe, and is a sure law to itself. From history we learn that Zeno’s character and intellectual dispositions agreed exactly with the indications furnished by his bust. Born on the isle of Cyprus, he was brought up to mercan¬ tile affairs. His father, a merchant, from matters of business, had frequently occasion to visit 57 Athens, and there purchased several writings of the Socratic philosophers for the use of his son, who, at an early age, displayed a great turn for learning. Zeno himself, at the age of twenty- two, or, according to others, of thirty, made a voyage to Athens. The goods were lost by ship¬ wreck, but Zeno reached his destination, and attended several lectures on philosophy. Having informed himself on every part of the philosophy then taught in Greece, he resolved to become the founder of a new sect. From the place chosen for his school, called Stoa (porch), his followers received the name of stoics. He acquired great ability by the acuteness of his reasoning, and his private character being highly respectable, he was much beloved and esteemed by his numerous disciples. The King of Mace¬ donia, when at Athens, attended his lectures, and invited him to his court, but Zeno was not at all disposed to make an interested use of royal fa¬ vour. He is said to have come very rich to Greece, but he lived with great simplicity and abstemiousness, keeping only one servant, and li¬ miting himself to bread and fruits at table. In other pleasures he was equally continent, and his modesty led him to shun personal distinction. The Athenians placed such confidence in his in¬ tegrity, that they deposited the keys of thei^ citadel in his hands, and decreed him a statue and a golden crown. His constitution was naturally r-7— 58 weak, but by temperance his life was prolonged to extreme old age. His doctrines were less new than the forms in which they were taught, and Cicero has observed, that he had little reason for deserting his masters, especially those of the Platonic sect. He be¬ lieved in one God, the soul of the world, and had great confidence in the instinct of nature. His moral principles were severe ; placing happiness in the practice of virtue, he insisted on the same bearing both in pleasure and in pain, and con¬ tentment with every situation, in adversity as well as in prosperity. He thought it more wise to listen than to speak, to be ignorant of things which cannot be known than to hazard inquiries. The wise man of Zeno, although unattainable, is a character of the highest virtue, and supplied a model for the imitation of the noblest individuals that heathen antiquity has produced. He was persuaded that a man’s life was always at his own disposal, and at the age of ninety-eight years, having fallen by accident, and broken one of his fingers, he went home and strangled him¬ self. In testimony of their respect for the pre¬ cepts of virtue which he inculcated on the youth who were his auditors, the Athenians honoured ^im with a public funeral. PLATE XV. Fig. \.—‘The Emperor Nero. This and the figure under it are also after antique busts in the Royal Museum at Paris. In Nero the forehead is low, and the whole sincipital region small; the organs of benevolence and ve¬ neration are particularly defective, whilst those of firmness, self-esteem, and of all the animal propensities, are very large. The basilar and occipital regions are greatly superior in size to the upper and fore parts of the head. In whatever situation such a cerebral organization is placed, the animal nature will overpower the peculiarly human sentiments. Principles of Christian mo¬ rality would appear foolishness to a being so constituted, and reflection and will would sink overwhelmed by selfish and animal propensities. Let us now see what history relates of- the character of Nero: he was born of parents both notorious for their vices; his father was so con¬ scious of his own and his wife’s detestable dis¬ positions, that he affirmed, at his son’s birth, that nothing could spring from himself and Agrippina but some monster, born for the public calamity. Nero, indeed, was cruel from the cradle.' He married young, but while he shewed an attach¬ ment to a freed woman of a debauched charac¬ ter, who obtained a great ascendency over him. 60 he displayed nothing but aversion to his wife Octavia, the daughter of Claudius, who, though he had a son of his own, was prevailed upon by Nero’s mother, his second wife, to adopt him. A long catalogue of crimes now succeeded. Agrip¬ pina poisoned Claudius, and Nero, only eighteen years old, contrived to have poison admini¬ stered to Britannicus, as they sat at table with his wife and mother. He was always needy, from his profusion of every kind, and there was no mode of raising money by exactions and pil¬ lage which he did not practise. He used to say to his agents—“ You know what I want, let it be our business to leave nobody any thing.” He made no scruple of plundering the most sacred temples in the empire, for which he atoned by paying extraordinary honours to some favourite deity. A conspiracy against his life exasperated the tyrant. From this period he became suspicious of every man of rank and character, set no bounds to his cruelty, and displayed his brutal propensities with more extravagance than before. A bloody list of executions, in which the best and greatest men of Rome were the victims, distinguishes the annals of the subsequent years of his reign. At the same time he mounted the public theatre at Rome, disputed for the prizes of musician and actor, and made the spectators feel his tyranny, the punishments inflicted on those who were 61 reported by his spies to have been careless or tardy in their applauses. He was artful and cun¬ ning, ungrateful to his benefactors, ferocious, and execrable in the eyes of every honest man. Tn the thirty-first year of his age, and fourteenth of his reign, his troops forsook their allegiance, and Galba was proclaimed emperor. Nero, who from the first had shown the most cowardly irresolu¬ tion, fled from Rome, and took refuge in the country-house of one of his freed men. When his flight was known, he was declared a public enemy by the senate, and condemned to an igno¬ minious death. He was exhorted by a few friends who remained with him, to prevent this catastrophe by a voluntary death. He hesitated, complained unmanfully, and attempted in vain to work him¬ self into a resolution for the deed. At length the sound of the horsemen sent to apprehend him, put an end to his hesitation, and he pierced his throat with a poniard. His memory has been detested in all ages. Fig. 2 .—Seneca the Philosopher. In this portrait both the basilar and sincipital regions are large, and the frontal portion of the brain is considerable. The organs of benevo¬ lence, of veneration, and of the reflective facul¬ ties, are much larger than in fig. 1. Such a con¬ stitution exposes a man to feel the struggle be- 62 tween the lower and superior feelings; the better part of his nature, however, will prevail. The philosophical judgment will be sound, and the moral principles reasonable, as the upper part of the forehead predominates; but firmness and self-esteem are not large enough to be always depended upon. Seneca, being brought from Spain to Rome, when a child, was initiated into the study of elo¬ quence by his father and other masters, but his own inclinations led him to philosophy. His first teacher was of the^Pythagorean sect: he soon grew tired of the obscure mysticism of that school; and became the disciple of a stoic: but he, at the same time, extended his inquiries to all the systems of Grecian philosophy. He was ap¬ pointed by Agrippina preceptor to her son Nero, while Pyrrhus was instituted governor and mili¬ tary instructor of the young prince. When Nero displayed his real character, and resolved to free himself from his mother’s presence, by the horrid crime of matricide, Seneca did not oppose the proposal as he ought to have done, and after the deed was perpetrated, wrote a letter to the se¬ nate in Nero’s name to justify it. Though he was unable to check the torrent of depravity of his pupil, he experienced his lavish [bounty to a de¬ gree which produced an accumulation of wealth, not only beyond the wants of a philosopher, but surpassing the measure of a private fortune. 63 Afraid of Nero and his rapacious favourites, he requested permission to retire from court, and even offered to refund all that he had received from the imperial liberality. Nero, a master in dissimulation, assured him of his continued re¬ gard, and would not permit the restitution of re¬ wards which he had so well merited; but Seneca knew his pupil too well to place any confidence in his declarations. He, therefore, kept himself as much as possible out of sight, retired to his country seat, and, under pretence of indis¬ position, rarely admitted visiters. It was not long, however, before Nero sent a military tri¬ bune with a band of soldiers to Seneca’s house, with the command that Seneca should imme¬ diately put himself to death. The philoso¬ pher heard this sentence with perfect compo¬ sure, and asked permission of the officer to make his testament. This being refused, he turned to his friends, and said, that since he was not allowed to shew his gratitude to them in any other way, he would leave them the image of his life as the best memorial of their friendship. He then exhorted them to moderate their grief by the precepts of philosophy, and the consider¬ ation that such a fate was to be expected from the character of Nero. The death he chose was that of opening his veins, whilst seated in a hot bath. The character of Seneca, both in ancient and 64 modem times, has been a subject of much contro¬ versy, some extolling him as an example of the morality he taught, others representing him as acting differently from his precepts; the phre¬ nologist adds—from firmness, self-esteem, and conscientiousness, not being large enough. Se¬ neca certainly had his faults, but while Nero fol¬ lowed his instructions he appeared an excellent prince, and with Seneca all goodness forsook the imperial court. The tenour of Seneca’s writings is that of solid virtue, tempered with humanity, and exalted by the noblest principles of theism. Though not free from animal temptations, and too weak to resist at all times, he, however, was strongly inclined to benevolence, clemency, and virtue in general. He collected riches, but always gave the advice to be above them, and not to be unhappy in po¬ verty. His manner of living was simple, and even austere. He was fond of study from infancy to the end of his life. PLATE XVI. Fig. 1 .—The Cardinal Richelieu. The forehead of this portrait, particularly in the region of the perceptive faculties, is large, and the width of the head generally is greater than its elevation. The organs of acquisitiveness, se- T Pi.xri. 65 cretiveness, destructiveness, firmness, self-esteem, and love of notoriety, are strongly marked; those of benevolence, veneration, and conscientious¬ ness, are small. Such a man will be talented, but artful; ,he will be guided by selfish motives rather than by love of the truth; religion itself in his hands will be but a means of gaming his immediate ends, of gratifying his worldly inten¬ tions. He will sacrifice his adversaries with¬ out pity or remorse, and in every situation, as father, or as husband, at the head of the church, or of the civil government, he will insist upon being obeyed. No man with such a configuration of brain ought, therefore, on any account, to be^ intrusted with the direction of the state, he ought always to remain answerable for his actions, and under the control of some nobler and more happily-consti¬ tuted heads. Richelieu was educated for the church; he studied at the Sorbonne, went afterwards to Rome, and at the early age of twenty-two was consecrated bishop of Lufon. Though he had obtained some distinction, the ecclesiastical pro¬ fession neither suited his morals nor his ambition, and his great object was to make his way •at court. Under polite and insinuating manners, he concealed a firm and determined mind, and a spirit of intrigue, well adapted to make way where favourites reigned supreme. The queen- mother, Mary of Medicis, nominated him her F 66 grand-almoner, and secretary of state. He gained her entire confidence, and was introduced into the council notwithstanding the opposition of the other ministers, who feared him, and the repug¬ nance of the king, who suspected his ambition, and was shocked with his licentious manners. For some time he conducted himself with great modesty and reserve; but he soon found means to crush all his rivals, and to possess himself of the whole authority of the crown. He then as¬ sumed a to^ne of greater vigour and decision. He began by strengthening the royal authority, and with this view humbled the turbulent and fac¬ tious grandees. Several of these engaged in in¬ trigues against the government, but Richelieu brought many of them to the scaffold. The danger he himself incurred was a pretext for giving him a body-guard. His power became ex¬ traordinary ; even the royal authority was reduced to a shadow. The queen-mother, herself, was made to feel the cardinal’s resentment. She was put under arrest, her servants were all sent to the Bastile, and she finally ended her days in exile at Cologne. All that was great in the na¬ tion trembled before him. The king, without loving his prime-minister, submitted to all his se¬ verities, and created him a duke and peer. The daily expense of his household was enormous, his equipage and establishments were rather upon the scale of a sovereign prince than of a subject; 67 and he much surpassed his master in external pomp. Richelieu even braved the court of Rome, and reduced the French clergy to the same depend¬ ence on the crown as all the other bodies of the state. The principles of his administration were entirely despotic; in pursuit of his objects he trampled law and justice, rights and privileges, under his feet, and debased the spirit of the na¬ tion. He said of himself—“ I venture upon no¬ thing till I have considered it well; but when I have once taken ray resolution, I go directly to my end; I overthrow and mow down all that stands in my way, and then cover the whole with my red mantle.” He was liberal to those who served him, and ardent in ruining his enemies. He was the author of some splendid and useful establishments, as of the Larbonne and the French Academy. He was attached to litera¬ ture, and aimed at the same superiority in letters which he possessed in politics. He composed several dramatic pieces, but was much disquieted by the superior reputation of Corneille. The Cardinal Richelieu was undoubtedly a man of great talents, seeing that he succeeded in overcoming all his enemies, in gaining all his ends, and in maintaining himself at the head of the government, though hated by the royal fa¬ mily, and not liked by the king. But he owed his success to execrable means, to numerous F 2 68 crimes, to corruption, and to the contempt in which he held mankind, and every honourable or conscientious feeling. The good he did was al¬ ways blended with evil. He must be considered as an imperious, ambitious, cunning, selfish, san¬ guinary, vindictive man, totally devoid of con¬ scientiousness. If the value and merits of a statesman are to be appreciated by his justice and love of the general welfare, by his reason and moral rectitude, then was Richelieu’s character abominable. Fig. 2. —Sir Francis Walsingham. This is a fine noble head. The whole sin¬ cipital region is larger than the basilar, and there is a great mass of brain from the ear for¬ wards and upwards. The organs of the moral and religious feelings are very large, in union with those of ideality, cautiousness, and the re¬ flective faculties. Acquisitiveness is very small in proportion to the superior sentiments. For such a man it is easy to forget his own interests amid thoughts for the public good ; he will never ad¬ vantage himself at the expense or to the detri¬ ment of another. With the capacity of acquiring a vast stock of knowledge, his mind will, how¬ ever, always be mounting to general principles. In every situation he will merit as he will grace the highest attainable eminence; happy the 69 country that is governed by such a brain? Were a phrenologist shewn this and the former por¬ trait, and informed that both of the men were in situations to have enriched themselves, but that one died poor and the other immensely rich, he would never confound the former with the Aristides of his country. Walsingham, it is said, received a liberal edu¬ cation, acquired several languages, and many ac¬ complishments, His first public engagement was in the capacity of ambassador to France, during the civil wars in that kingdom. Queen Elizabeth kept him in considerable difficulties by a small allowance, but he served her with zeal, discern¬ ment, and fidelity .displaying every fitness for the trust reposed in him. After his return from France, in 1573, he was appointed one of the principal secretaries of state and a privy-councillor. He then devoted himself solely to the service of his country and sovereign, and, by his vigilance and address, pre¬ served her crowm and life from daily attempts and conspiracies. His general character has been thus summed up;—“ He was undoubtedly one of the most refined politicians and most pene¬ trating statesmen that ever any age produced. He had an admirable talent, both in discovering and managing the secret recesses of human na¬ ture; he had his spies in most courts of Christen¬ dom, and allowed them a liberal maintenance; i 70 for his grand maxim was, that knowledge is never too dear. He spent his whole time and faculties in the service of the queen and her kingdom; his conversation was insinuating, but “yet reserved; he saw every one, and none saw him. To him men’s faces spoke as much as their tongues, and their countenances were indexes of their hearts. Religion, in his judg¬ ment, was the interest of his country, as it was of his own soul; it had his head, his purse, and his heart. He passed the latter days of his life mostly in retirement, and when any of his former gay companions came to see him, and told him he was melancholy, he is said to have replied;—‘ No, I am not melancholy ; I am se¬ rious, and it is fit I should be so ; all things are serious about us.’ His cautiousness was cer- tainly great. He died so poor, it is said, that his friends were obliged to bury him in St. Paul’s, late at night, in the most private manner.” Cautiousness, great intellect, and moral and religious feelings, were the most prominent fea¬ tures in his character, as the organs of these powers are the most largely developed in his brain. 71 PLATE XVII. Fig. 1.— Pope Alexander VI. This cerebral organization is despicable in the eyes of a phrenologist. The animal organs com¬ pose by far its greatest portion. Such a brain is no more adequate to the manifestation of Chris¬ tian virtues, than the brain of an idiot from birth to the exhibition of the intellect of a Teibnitz or a Bacon. The cervical and whole basilar region of the head are particularly developed, the organs of the perceptive faculties are pretty large, but the sincipital region is exceedingly low, particularly at the organs of benevolence, veneration, and con¬ scientiousness. Such a head is unfit for any em¬ ployment of a superior kind, and never gives birth to sentiments of humanity. The sphere of its acti¬ vity does not extend beyond those enjoyments which minister to the animal portion of human nature. Alexander VI. was, in truth, a scandal to the papal chair; from the earliest age he was dis¬ orderly and artful, and his life to the last was in¬ famous. He is said to have bought the tiara by bribing a certain number of cardinals, or rather by mak¬ ing large promises, which he never fulfilled. It is well known, that when he became pope he had a family of five children, four boys and one daughter. He made a regular practice of selling bishoprics 72 and other ecclesiastical benefices, to enrich him* self and his family. Though profane and various religious writers do not all agree in their judg¬ ment concerning the disorderly conduct of this man, many atrocities committed by* him are well-ascertained facts. History will always accuse him of the crimes of poisoning, simony, and false- swearing, of reckless debauchery, nay of incest with his own daughter. In political matters he formed alliances with all the princes of his time, but his ambition and perfidy never failed to find him a pretext for breaking his word, and disturb¬ ing the peace. He engaged Charles VIII. of France to enter Italy, in order to conquer the kingdom of Naples, and as soon as that prince had succeeded in the enterprise, he entered into a league with the Venetians and the emperor Maximilian to rob him of his conquest. He sent a nuncio to the Sultan Bajazet to entreat his assistance against Charles, promising him per¬ petual friendship, in case of compliance ; but after the receipt of a large remittance from the Turks, he treacherously delivered Zizim, the brother of Bajazet, then at the court of Rome, into the hands of Charles. As a singular example of Alexander’s arrogance, his bull may be men¬ tioned, by which he took upon him to divide the new world between the kings of Spain and Portugal, granting to the former all the territory on the west of an imaginary line passing from 73 north to south, at one hundred leagues distance from the Cape de Verd Islands. Alexander pos¬ sessed eloquence and address, but a total lack of noble sentiments rendered him altogether unfit for his sacred station. Poisoned wine, which had been prepared for certain cardinals whose riches tempted the cupidity of his holiness, was given him by mistake, and ended his profligate career. Some writers have questioned the truth of this account of Alexander’s death, but there is nothing in the relation inconsistent with the ac¬ knowledged character of this pontiff. Lowness of feelings and lowness of brain are seen together. Fig. 2.— Fr. Oberlin, Pastor of Five Villages among the Voguesian Mountain^. This is an extraordinary head, a form that a phrenologist loves to contemplate. There is little brain at the basis, whilst all the upper and front regions are unusually large. The posterior sincipi¬ tal portion being also in great proportion, inde¬ pendence of mind, steadiness, and perseverance in every pursuit and undertaking, will be prominent features in the exalted moral and religious charac¬ ter indicated by the rest of the head. Self-esteem will here become dignit 5 % benevolence and vene¬ ration be blended with, and made inseparable from wisdom. In a word, such a cerebral organization approaches in excellence the idea which phreno¬ logists are apt to form of that of Jesus. ■ w 74 This model of Christian piety found the inha¬ bitants of his parish, isolated in five different vil¬ lages, poor, ignorant, agitated by heinous passions, and without the most necessary means of comfort¬ able existence. But by labouring unremittingly he, by degrees, succeeded in changing their wretched condition. He taught them to cultivate potatoes, flax, and such vegetables as succeeded best in light and sandy soils. He laid out a nursery, in order to supply the peasants with trees of various kinds, and shewed them the advantages they would reap by attending to their cultivation. He gave instruc¬ tions to the children himself, teaching the younger to read, write, and calculate; while he lectured to the morea dvanced in age, upon the cultivation of fruit-trees, the principles of agriculture, and the noxious and useful qualities of the plants which the country produced. He particularly accus¬ tomed them to order and cleanliness. The good pastor, with his parishioners at his back, actually worked at the formation of conve¬ nient ways from one village to another, and of a good and ready communication with the great road leading to Strasburg. . To this city he sent children to become artisans, such as tailors, shoe¬ makers, smiths, and carpenters, a female to learn midwifery, and a promising youth to study medi¬ cine and surgery. He himself had some know¬ ledge of the healing art, used the lancet in cases of necessity, and preserved the most necessary F2. XPM. 75 remedies in his house, which he distributedas he thought they were required. He devoted his talents, time, labours, and whole life to the wel¬ fare of his flock. He persuaded a benevolent family, Legrand, to favour his philanthropic views, and to transfer their manufactory of ribands from Basle to his parish, and to furnish employment to the people. Besides his vast care of all worldly concerns, he paid the greatest attention to moral and reli¬ gious instruction, which he enforced in the most effectual manner by deeds as well as words. He ended a law-suit in which the parish had been involved for many years, and he brought good will and mutual love to dwell with his flock, in¬ stead of discord. He well deserves the title father, which his parishioners have given him. Their love and gratitude, surely, will not termi¬ nate with his existence, and the good he has done will live long after he is dust. PLATE XVIII. Fig. \-—Don Manuel Godoi, the Prince of Peace. This head is round, and particularly broad above the ears; it may be aptly enough compared with that of a cat. The upper, or sincipital region is very small, and much contracted ; the 76 forehead is insignificant, particularly in the quar¬ ter of the reflective organs. Individuality, event¬ uality, and melody, are the most prominent parts. A brain like this adapts itself readily to external circumstances, and follows the tide of occurrences, viewing personal advantages particularly ; it therefore fits an individual to make his way in the world, but no man with such a form of head deserves to be intrusted with the management of great affairs. He is incapable of understanding principles, and can never feel the superiority of ultimate and general happiness over momentary and individual gratifications. He is only destined by nature to make up the number of her crea¬ tures, to enjoy personal existence, and to make room for others. Don Manuel Godoi, born at Badajos, in 1764, of noble, but indigent parents, went with his brother, Don Louis Godoi, to Madrid in quest of a situation. Both had an agreeable voice, and played well on the guitar. Their musical talent was a passport for them into good society, and a means of gaining them powerful protectors. They succeeded in obtaining admission into the royal life-guards. Their whole income was limited to their pay, lOd. sterling per day. So extreme was their poverty, that Don Manuel is reported often to have lived on dry bread, and to have had no change of linen. His brother got acquainted with a chambermaid of the palace, who made 77 mention of his musical talents to the queen. Or¬ ders were given to bring Don Louis before her majesty. She was delighted with his perform¬ ance, and applauded him warmly. Then he replied, “ Ah, madam, what would her majesty say if she heard my brother!” Immediately the queen commanded this prodigy to be brought into her presence. Don Manuel possessed every requisite necessary to please and to ensure suc¬ cess ; an elegant form, an agreeable, insinuating face, a fine voice, and very great skill upon the guitar. He delighted the queen to such a degree, that from the first interview she determined on making his fortune, and proceeded with an ex¬ traordinary zeal. Some of the courtiers spoke with rapture to the king of Don Manuel’s talents. His majesty himself then desired to hear him, and his feelings were so much excited, that he devoted to the charming youth a particular affection. Don Manuel was at onee promoted from the rank of a simple guardsman to that of major in the regiment, of which the king was colonel. Before long he was made counsellor of the state, then secretary of the state, next prime-minister, with the title of Duke of Alcudia, and in 1795, when Spain separated from the coalition against France, he received the title of Prince of Peace, the rank of grandee of the first order, an estate worth 60,000 piastres per annum, and the chain and badge of the golden fleece. 78 He possessed great fluency of speech, graceful manners, and a winning countenance. By de¬ grees he conceived a great idea of his own capa¬ city and deserts; he could no longer brook oppo¬ sition, and even braved the Prince of x4sturias. In 1796, he signed the articles of an offensive and defensive alliance with the French republic, made common cause with Buonaparte, to the ruin of his country; attacked Portugal, and received the title of Commander-in-chief of the sea and land forces, and of Grand Admiral of Castile. He married a cousin of the king of Spain, excited the king against his own son, and sold his country and Portugal to France ; but having at length fallen into disgrace, he was glad to regain his freedom by emigration. His intellectual powers were evidently very middling, but his immorality was extraordinary. A cerebral organization like that of Don Manuel Godoi will never manifest senti¬ ments esteemed in an Aristides, aWalsingham, or a Jeannin. Fig. 2.—Peter Jeannin, commonly called the President Jeannin. Such a forehead fits a man for the study of every science; it will raise him to eminence in every profession, while the great development of the sin¬ cipital region will keep him in the path of right¬ eousness. The whole brain is only compatible 79 with nobleness of mind and elevation of character. All views which emanate from such a head will be extensive, and beyond the reach of common understandings; moreover, they will be ennobled by soundness of judgment and generosity of sentiment. P. Jeannin, born in 1540, even from infancy displayed great talents; he was brought up to the law, and first appeared in the quality of advocate in the parliament of Burgundy, He soon distinguished himself by his eloquence, and the force of his arguments. He was frank and just. The states of Burgundy appointed him agent for the affairs of the province. It was Jeannin who persuaded the lieutenant-general of Burgundy, De Charny, to postpone the execution of the order for perpetrating, at Dijon, the same horrid massacre of the protestants on St. Bartho¬ lomew’s day, which took place at Paris and other cities. He protested that it was impossible the king should persist in such a cruel purpose, and a courier arrived a few days after to revoke the order. This was the more meritorious in Jeannin, as he had been induced by the zeal which the leaguers affected for religion and the good of the state, to join their party. He was attached to the Duke of Mayenne, and deputed by him to negotiate with Philip H. of Spain, the declared protector of the league. Jeannin soon discovered that the real design of 80 Philip, in supporting the civil war in France, was to gain possession of some of its best provinces. He therefore, on his return, exerted his influence to detach the Duke from the Spaniards, and dis¬ pose him to acknowledge his lawful sovereign. After Mayenne had returned to his duty, Henry IV. was desirous of engaging Jeannin in his ser¬ vice ; and when the latter honestly objected that his majesty should prefer an old leaguer to so many persons of known fidelity, Henry replied; that he who had been faithful to a duke, would never be otherwise to a king. This was a true phrenological judgment. Henry conferred upon Jeannin the office of first president of the parliament of Burgundy, intending that he should dispose of it to another, and devote himself entirely to attendance in the council of state. From this time he became one of Henry’s principal advisers and confidants, and was always selected to conduct the more delicate negotiations. He assisted in drawing up the Edict of Nantes. Henry called him the good man, communicated to him his most secret thoughts, and consulted him upon his nearest and dearest interests. Having once discovered that - a secret of state had been revealed, he complained of it at the council-board, saying at the same time, while he took the president Jeannin by the hand, “ I answer for this good man; the rest of you must examine one another.”—“ Jeannin,” . i n I ^ 81 said Henry, on another occasion, always thinks well; he never conceals a thought from me, and he never flatters me.’’ After the death of Henry IV. Jeannin was intrusted by the queen-mother with the manage¬ ment of the most important affairs of the kingdom, especially with the administration of the finances; and in the midst of universal disorder he preserved his integrity of character unsullied. The mode¬ rate fortune he left behind him is the best proof of his rectitude. He died at the age of eighty- two, having been minister during twenty-seven years. He possessed a truly elevated mind. On one occasion, when asked, by a prince who meant to disconcert him, whose son he was, he replied, The son of my virtues.” His name is illustrious on account of his talents, his virtues, and the services he rendered to his country. PLATE XIX. Danton and Malesherbes. It is much to be regretted, in a phrenological point of view, that many of the individuals who displayed great mental energies during the French revolution, are represented, in their portraits, either with perukes or long hair, which prevents their cerebral organization from being distinctly seen. The difference between the two heads G 9 % 82 represented in this plate is, however, conspicuous enough. In fig. 1., Danton, the upper part of the forehead is flat, and the head generally is broad rather than high; it is particularly large laterally above the ears ; the organs of benevolence and of veneration are small; those of the reflective powers but moderate. In fig. 2., Malesherbes, on the contrary, all these cerebral parts are strongly marked; the whole head is very elevated, and much higher than it is broad. Now Danton was renowned for his strong ani¬ mal feelings, for his audaciousness, impetuosity, and vehement elocution ; for his bold conceptions, and his violent means of execution; but at the same time his incapacity as a leader, under try¬ ing circumstances, as the director of such a desolating tempest as the French revolution, is admitted. Malesherbes, on the other hand, was a philoso¬ pher, in private life as well as at the head of the government, in prosperous and adverse circum¬ stances, in easy and in difficult situations. He was devoid of all party spirit, without ambi¬ tion, unostentatious, and the foe alike of des¬ potism and of licentiousness, by whatever name entitled; but he was the friend of truth, reason, moderation, and peace; the admirer of benevo¬ lent and generous sentiments. His speeches are rare models of truth unfolded without any mix¬ ture of dissimulation, without any of the false 83 colouring of exaggeration, and without any tinge of irreverence. They abound with sound reason¬ ing, and shew frequent traces of unobtrusive firm¬ ness and of respectful sincerity. The grandeur of soul with which he bore his proscription, and the magnanimity he displayed in defending the unfortunate Louis XVI. of France, at the expense of his life, are facts generally known and univer¬ sally admired. How is it possible to overlook the influence of the brain on the manifestations of the mind! Is it not lamentable to see so little care taken to preserve specimens of the principal of nature’s works; I mean, of the real cerebral configuration of those who excel or are eminent in any way ? By using these means more will be done in ad¬ vancing the knowledge of man, than has hitherto been effected by all the learned societies and all the schools of philosophy that have ever existed. PLATE XX. Fig. 1 .—Pope Gregory VII. Phrenologists being convinced of the existence, immutability, and universality of nature’s laws, and of the influence of the brain on manifesta¬ tions of mind, from the pope, emperor, and king, down to the lowest grade in society, will always regret to see the supreme power vested in a head G 2 84 such as is here represented. The basilar and occipital regions are extremely large, in propor¬ tion to the upper region, and the greatest length of fibre is between the ear and the organs of self-esteem and firmness. The organs of the in¬ tellectual faculties are large, but they will only serve as means of gratifying the lower feelings. The fulness immediately above and behind the ears, combined with great self-esteem and firm¬ ness, whilst benevolence and veneration are small, will produce brutality of sentiments, rudeness, and roughness of manners. Such a brain is not made to imitate the founder of Christianity, who was charity itself, and desired that his disciples might be distinguished by their mutual love and forbearance. Gregory VII., indeed, is an excellent proof that eminence is not achieved by superior moral endowments alone, that exalted rank does not bestow the qualities necessary to honour the situ¬ ation on every one of its possessors, and that Christianity has not abolished the laws of organ¬ ization established by the Creator. He, among many others who have styled themselves Christ’s representatives, evidently acted in direct opposi¬ tion to the Christian law. Once secured in the papal chair, and his election confirmed by the emperor of Germany, Gregory began to put the vast designs he had formed into execution. The power which he resolved to usurp over all sove- 85 reign princes he first exerted against Philip I.> King of France. He wrote a very sharp letter to Philip, reproaching him that churches and monas¬ teries were plundered with impunity, and that the king himself had his share in the booty; threatening him likewise with the censures of the church, if these abuses were not speedily re¬ dressed. The following year, 1074, he determined to compel the clergy to observe celibacy, which several of his predecessors had already attempted without success, and utterly to do away with simony, or the practice of trading in bishoprics and other benefices. With this view he assem¬ bled a council at Rome, where he proposed and carried the following decrees:—1. That those who had, by simony, obtained any dignity or office in the church, should be excluded from the exer¬ cise of the office thus obtained. 2. That no man should thenceforth presume to sell or buy any ecclesiastical dignity whatever. 3. That the mar¬ ried clerks should not perform any clerical office. 4. That the people should not attend at the masses, nor any other sacred function performed by the married clerks. 5. That those who had wives should put them away, and that none should thenceforth be ordained, who did not promise to observe continence during his whole life. He formed the destructive project of relieving the eastern Christians oppressed by the Saracens, 86 excommunicated the king of France, and issued a decree, taking the nomination and investiture of bishops out of the hands of princes. This decree was a declaration of war against all Christian princes; but Gregory VII. thought it a point well worth contending for, well worthy of the confu¬ sion, civil wars, rebellions, and bloodshed that it might occasion; for he would, by carrying it into execution, bring the disposal of the whole wealth of the church into his own hands, and thus ren¬ der the clergy everywhere independent of their princes, and dependent upon him alone, as he alone could reward and prefer them. For ages the popes themselves had not been consecrated till after the decree of their election was signed by the emperor; Gregory himself had complied with this ceremony, but he declared such a state of things heresy and idolatry, and resolved that it should continue no longer. He therefore acquainted the emperor with this famous resolution, and forbade him thenceforth to meddle in any wise with ecclesiastical preferments, to grant investitures, or dispose of vacant churches upon any pretext whatever, and threatened him with excommunication if he refused to comply with these demands. As Henry, however, paid no kind of attention to the decree against investitures, Gregory sent legates into Germany to summon him, in the pope’s name, to appear in person at Rome, on the 87 Monday of the second week in Lent, 1076, in order to give an account of his conduct and clear himself of the crimes laid to his charge. The legates added that they were ordered by his holi¬ ness to let him know, that if he did not obey the summons, and appear on the day appointed, he would on that very day be cut off with an ana¬ thema from the body of the holy apostolic church. The king, provoked beyond measure at such an extraordinary summons, in order to render the sentence of excommunication, with which he was threatened by the pope, ineffectual, resolved to have his holiness formally deposed in a council. He invited the bishops and abbots to meet at Worms, in order to concert jointly with him the most proper means for delivering the church from the tyranny of a man, who, in defiance of the canons, exercised a power which none of his predecessors had ever claimed, and who plainly shewed, by his whole conduct, that he aimed at nothing less than the subjection of both the church and the state to his lawless and arbitrary will. The pope, then, was deposed in the council at Worms, and the sentence immediately communi¬ cated to the bishops of Lombardy, who assembled at Pavia, and not only confirmed the sentence, but swore upon the gospel, that they would no longer acknowledge Gregory as pope. Gregory received the news of these events without betray* 7 88 ing the least sign of resentment. He only declared in the council which he now assembled, that no¬ thing should ever deter him from correcting the scandalous abuses which prevailed in the church, and that he was ready even to suffer martyrdom, and to shed the last drop of his blood in so good a cause. The bishops applauded his firmness, and assured him, to a man, that they would stand by him at the expense, if necessary, of their lives. The emperor was, therefore, excommunicated,* and in his turn deposed with great solemnity, in haughty and violent terms. The pope absolved all Christians from the oath of allegiance which they had taken, or might take to him, and forbade any one to serve him as a sovereign. The bishops of Germany and Lombardy were partly excom¬ municated, and partly threatened with an ana¬ thema, if they did not, within a limited time, repent of their wickedness, return to their duty, and appear personally at Rome, to plead their cause. Gregory took care to acquaint the whole Christian world with his decree, claiming the right of deposing princes. He countenanced a league against the emperor, and wrote to the princes, bishops, and people, empowering them to choose another monarch, if Henry did not turn from his wickedness, and by sincere repent¬ ance render himself worthy of being replaced on the throne, which he had deservedly forfeited by 89 his disobedience to, and contempt of, the apo¬ stolic see. The enemies of the emperor availed themselves of the excommunication to stir up the people against him ; even his friends were afraid to lend him any assistance, so long as he continued under that sentence; he therefore resolved to procure his absolution. Being informed that the pope had left Rome, and was coming to Germany, he set out in great haste, with his wife and his son, yet an infant, to meet him and to obtain absolu¬ tion. He undertook this journey in the depth of winter, which that year was extremely severe ; he crossed the Alps, often in imminent danger of being buried in the snow, or falling down the pre¬ cipices. Some of his train perished in the pas¬ sage, and others lost, by the excessive cold, the use of their limbs. In the mean time, Gregory had journeyed as far as Lombardy, and when informed of the arrival of the emperor in Italy, he retired to Canusium, a strong castle in the diocese of Reggio, belonging to the famous Countess Matilda, who always declared for the pope, followed in every thing his directions, and accompanied him wherever he went. Henry was weak enough to send deputies thi¬ ther to the pope, and to entreat his holiness to absolve him from the excommunication, as he had for that purpose alone undertaken so long iii iii Hi 90 and so difficult a journey, in so severe a season. The pope was with difficulty prevailed upon to admit the suppliant to his presence. “ If he be truly penitent,” said he, at last, “ let him come, and by his submission atone for his long disobe¬ dience to the decrees of the holy apostolic see.’’ The emperor, upon his arrival at the first gate of the castle of Canusium, surrounded with a triple wall, was told that he must dismiss all his attend¬ ants, and enter alone. He did so,—the first gate was then shut; at the second he was required to divest himself of all the insignia of royalty, to put on in their stead a coarse woollen tunic, and to stand barefooted in that garb, in the month of January, till it should please his holiness to com¬ mand the third gate to be opened to admit him to his presence. In this condition he was forced to wait three whole days, fasting from morning to night, and imploring the mercy of God and the pope. This hard-hearted man shewed not the smallest sign of compassion, whilst all the other persons of distinction with him were touched with pity on seeing so great a prince in suffering, and reduced to so deplorable a state. Finally, on the fourth day, the pope permitted the mo¬ narch to appear before him, and absolved him un¬ der these most severe conditions: that he should appear at the time and at the place which the pope should appoint, to answer the charges brought against him, and should own the pope 91 for his judge ; that till judgment was given, and his cause was finally determined, he should lay aside all badges of royalty,—should not meddle, upon any pretence whatever, with public affairs, and should levy no money from the people but what was necessary for the support of his family ; that all who had taken an oath of allegiance to him should be absolved from that oath before God as well as before men ; that if he should clear himself of the crimes laid to his charge, and remain emperor, he should be ever obedient and submissive to the pope, and if he failed in any of the conditions, his absolution should be null,— he should be deemed guilty of the crimes laid to his charge as if he had owned them,—should never again be heard,—the lords of the empire be absolved from their oaths, and be at full liberty to elect another sovereign. Henry, when free, soon changed his mind : Gregory, therefore, encouraged the Germans to rebellion, and a new emperor, Rudolph, duke of Suabia, was elected in his stead. Gregory, towards the end of his life, was obliged to retire to Salerno. He remained to the last in¬ flexible, haughty, and vindictive. He had uncom¬ mon abilities, but he grossly misapplied them to the most wicked of purposes,—to the making himself sole lord, spiritual and temporal, over the whole earth, and becoming by that means the sole disposer, not only of all ecclesiastical digni- ff It 92 ties and preferments, but of empires, states, and kingdoms. Such a power vested in the bishops of Rome was unknown to the world until Gre¬ gory VII. occupied the see. His insatiable ambi¬ tion, his unbending haughtiness, and the miseries he caused to France and Germany, explain satis¬ factorily why the bishops of neither of these countries even consented to add his name to the calendar of the saints. Fig. 2.—The Pope Pius VII. In this head the organs of the animal propensities are small, those of the higher sentiments large. Self-esteem and firmness are great, but they are accompanied with justice, cautiousness, venera¬ tion, benevolence, and good intellectual powers. The perceptive and reflective faculties are full, and the organ of order is particularly developed. This is the head of a well-intentioned, noble-minded, and prudent man, who will not give up a good cause, but will never act with temerity. His ba¬ silar region being small, he will avoid all violent measures, but persevere with confidence in the path of truth. Pius VIL lived under very trying circum¬ stances, and his mind was tested in many and various ways, but he always acted with pru¬ dence, and never compromised the dignity of the eminent situation with w'hich he was intrusted. 93 As a private man Pius was truly gentle, humane, prudent, and virtuous. His cerebral organization is very different from that of Gregory VII., and in this difference the phrenologist perceives the explanation of the very dissimilar conduct of these two pontiffs. Had Pius been organized as Gre¬ gory yil., his bearing would not have been cha¬ racterized by that noble firmness, that pious re¬ signation which distinguished it. The firmness and self-esteem of Pius were mitigated by bene¬ volence and veneration, and his whole life exhibits a mind unacquainted with rigour, pride, or stub¬ bornness. Ty 94 Chapter II. Portraits of Individuals rema/rkable in a religious point of View. In every age the religious sentiments have un¬ questionably exerted a most powerful influence over the condition of mankind. The great bulk have still been, and will long continue to be, led blindfolded, and the few constituted capable of reasoning and deducing, will not yet dare to withdraw the veil that conceals the sanctuary of faith. The disposition to religion is certainly in¬ herent in the nature of man ; but when we cast our eyes over the world at large, we perceive his religious ideas interwoven w’ith erroneous conceptions to such a degree, that it seems im¬ possible to separate the little that is good, rea¬ sonable, and in conformity with proper notions of the Divine and of human dignity, from the abundance that is noxious, unreasonable, and un¬ worthy of rather superior humanity, much more of an all-wise and perfect Creator. The object of the following portraits is to fix the reader’s attention on the differences in the cerebral organization of religious persons, among whom veneration in one case, and in another marvellousness, predominates, each being after- k ! w- i F/.XST. F’^.3 95 wards modified by every variety of combination with other fundamental powers. PLATE XXL Fig. 1. —Francis Paris. This head is very high, but it is narrow in the sincipital region ; the organs of benevolence, ve¬ neration, and marvellousness, are particularly pro¬ minent. Such a brain will never fit a man to excel in any department of the arts or sciences ; it is the attribute of a weak, superstitious mind—of a mind that believes what it is told, that cannot distinguish between the spirit and the letter of religious language. One with such a brain, if born a Jew, will worship after the manner of the Jews; if sprung from Roman Catholic parents, he will follow the ceremonies of the Romish church; descended from Mahometans, or from parents professing any other creed, he will still feel inclided blindly to worship as his forefathers did before him. He will be of the number of those who believe that a multitude of words deserves to be heard, and who flatter themselves that they can contribute to the beatitude of the Supreme Being. The Deacon Paris was the eldest son of a counsellor of the parliament, and born in Paris, in the year 1690. He disliked the profession of ! : I 96 the law, by pursuing which he might have.suc- ceeded to his father’s appointment; he preferred embracing the ecclesiastical life. He thought himself unworthy of any higher grade than that of deacon. Upon the death of his father, he renounced all claims to his patrimonial inherit- , ance in favour of a younger brother, and devoted himself to what he conceived to be a life of me¬ ritorious poverty. Having made trial of different secluded spots, in which to pass his days, he at length fixed upon a house in the ’’suburbs of St. Marceau, where he spent his time in prayer and the most rigorous acts of penance, supporting himself by making stockings for the poor, with whom he divided the earnings of his labour. By this course of life he acquired a character for extraordinary sanctity with the superstitious populace and pious old women, who, led by ig¬ norance and credulity, looked upon such morti- cations as the perfection of virtue. He died when he was only thirty-seven years of age, pro¬ bably on account of the severity of the discipline which he observed. He wrote commentaries on the gospel, and several epistles, but his works are indifferent performances, and never had many readers. ' He was buried in the church-yard of St. Me- dard, at Paris, where his brother erected a mo¬ nument to his memory, which the great reputa¬ tion of his sanctity drew many people to visit. 97 They paid ' their devotions to him as to a saint. The jansenist party, to whom he belonged,- consi¬ dered him as a subject proper to revive their credit against the Jesuits, who were supported by the court. Within five years after his death, reports of miracles wrought at his tomb were confidently propagated, not only in the city of Paris, but through the whole of France. In con¬ sequence of this, immense crowds were perpe¬ tually pressing to the place, decoyed by the ar¬ tifices of the crafty; and many went away pro¬ claiming the benefits received at the tomb of the saint, in the cure or alleviation of various diseases. In vain did men of sober sense endeavour to disabuse the multitude; nor could all the power of the government give a check to the spread of this superstition, till by enclosing the tomb within a wall, all access to it was effectually precluded. Though this expedient put an end to the external worship of the saint, it did not, however, for some time, shake the credit of his miracles, de¬ tailed accounts of which were drawn up and dis¬ tributed among the people. Several collections of these narrations were published, consisting of above one hundred in the whole, the authenticity and accuracy of which were attested by clergy of the first dignity, who presented a report upon them to the archbishops, with a petition signed by above twenty churchmen, praying that they H m 98 might be formally registered, and solemnly pub¬ lished to the people as true miracles. Fig. 2 .—Augustus Baker, The basilar region in this portrait is small in proportion to the sincipital. The organs of the moral and religious feelings are very large, and their energy would be increased by the great ideality and cautiousness. This is the cerebral organization of a gloomy mystic character, de¬ lighting in ascetic contemplations. A mind ma¬ nifesting itself by means of such organs will be constantly occupied with devotion and superna¬ tural considerations. The faith will be fervent, but never without an admixture of fear and ap¬ prehension. All kinds of austere and melancholic conceptions are the offspring of similar brains. Individuals so endowed are slow in their doings, and commonly dark-minded ; discontented with the world and mankind, they are apt to prefer re¬ tirement, or even perfect solitude, to any parti¬ cipation in the business of life. They are also ready to conceive, that in yielding to such in¬ clinations they will be likely to render them¬ selves agreeable to the Author of the universe. 99 PLATE XXII. Fig. \.—Constantine Cajetanus^ Born at Syracuse, in 1560, he became a Benedic¬ tine, and distinguished himself by his literary la¬ bours and his extraordinary anxiety for the glory of his order, among the members of which he ranked the author of every work of reputation, and every individual of personal merit, or great intel¬ lectual capacity. It was sufficient that a man of celebrity had passed a night in a Benedictine mo¬ nastery to declare him a Benedictine. It was this circumstance that led the Cardinal Cabellucci to sayI apprehend that before long Cajetanus will transform St. Peter into a Benedictine.” He maintained that Gersen, an abbot of his order, was the author of the work entitled. Imitation de Jesus Christ. Cajetanus introduced severe regu¬ lations among the Benedictines, and was con¬ stantly occupied with holy things. The phrenological explanation of this peculiar character is easily deduced from the cerebral organization. The organs of the religious senti¬ ments were large, and combined with great firm¬ ness, self-esteem, and love of approbation. The piety became severe by firmness and self-esteem; whilst love of approbation and self-esteem placed the order of Benedictines above all the others, and declared it the most glorious. The I) lil !’| 100 eventuality, individuality, and language, being large, explain the fondness of Cajetanus for lite¬ rary occupations. Men so organized are com¬ monly brilliant in society; notwithstanding their religious opinions and severe principles, they are also easily worked, upon by worldly distinctions. These are the beings, too, who introduce pomp and ceremony, and observance, into the worship of the Supreme Being. They are not satisfied with the text—“ God is a spirit, and is to be adored in spirit and in truth.” !: . 1:1 itiiiii ii ij Fig. 2 .—John Oi-asset, Jesuit, Born at Dieppe, in 1618, had great aptitude for scientific pursuits. He became professor of phi¬ losophy, and afterwards preacher. He also com¬ posed many works of an ascetic character, and during twenty-three years was director of the Je¬ suitic establishment for gentlemen at Paris. The organs of the perceptive faculties, of lan¬ guage, and, indeed, of the forehead genenerally, are in large proportion. The organ of marvellous¬ ness is not more than full, and those of acquisi¬ tiveness, secretiveness, cautiousness, and firmness, are large. Crasset had a brain, which gives what the French call sawir faire, and I conceive that it must have been very difficult to gain a knowledge of all his private thoughts. His religious feelings were not strong enough ever to have made him /"/ XXJV. 101 forget himself. Those who have such brains as John Crasset are practical spirits, and understand the management of business to the greatest pos¬ sible advantage. Crasset was well chosen to superintend the interests of the order, and to di¬ rect the Jesuitical establishment at Paris. PLATE XXIII. Fig. 1 .—Joseph Priestley. It is to be regretted that both this and the next portrait were taken with the head enveloped in a peruke. The organs of the perceptive and reflec¬ tive faculties in Joseph Priestley’s head are large, particularly individuality, form, size, language, comparison, and causality. This is the brain which leads him who is so fortunate as to be en¬ dowed with it in pursuit of solid information, and which produces general soundness of judgment. The man thus gifted is more disposed to believe in positive facts than in marvellous reports. Priestley was born of parents of the Calvinistic persuasion, at Field-head, near Leeds. He was, in his youth, adopted by an aunt, a woman of exemplary piety and benevolence, who sent him for education to several schools in the neighbour¬ hood, where he acquired an extensive knowledge of the learned languages, including Hebrew. He was destined for the ministry, but indifferent p TJ i I ■ 'I 102 (iriii iiii! Iiuf m health caused his views for a time to be turned towards trade. His constitution becoming stronger, however, he resumed his first purpose, and entered a dissenting academy at Daventry. There he spent three years, during which his acute and vigorous mind was never unemployed. He acquired many new ideas of various kinds, and changed the orthodox opinions in which he had been educated, for doctrines usually called here¬ tical. On quitting the academy he accepted an invita¬ tion to officiate as minister to a small congregation at Needham-market, in Suffolk. Not having the talents necessary to a popular preacher, however, and falling under suspicion of nursing heretical opinions, he passed his time in obscurity, but assiduously employed in theological and scriptural studies. His first publication was an English grammar on a new plan, for the use of his scholars. Gradually he began to distinguish himself by his writings in various branches of science and litera¬ ture. Several successive publications, particu¬ larly his History of Electricity, made his name extensively known. In this work he gave a clear and well-digested account of the rise and progress of that branch of science, and related many new and ingeniously-devised experiments of his own, the first essays of that inventive and sagacious spirit, by which he afterwards rendered himself so celebrated in natural philosophy. He at the r\ 103 same time 'pursued his theological studies, A number of publications, on different topics con¬ nected with religion, announced the zeal with which he was inspired. He engaged in a contro¬ versy respecting the right and ground of dissent- ing in general. Theology occupied a principal share of his attention, and was his favourite study; his works in this department were a fertile cause of controversy, in which he engaged without reluc¬ tance, and also without those uneasy feelings of irritation which so commonly accompany warfare of the kind. He declared his conviction to be, that all ecclesiastical establishments were hostile to the rights of private judgment, and to the pro¬ pagation of truth; he represented them as directly opposed to the spirit of Christianity. He neces¬ sarily irritated the established church by such heresies, and when he had done so he added another cause of even more general animosity, by expressing himself warmly in favour of the French revolution. This raised a storm which it would have been difficult to stand against, and he finally resolved to quit his country, hostile alike to his person and to his principles. He selected the United States of America for his retreat, influ¬ enced in his choice partly by family reasons, and partly allured by the civil and religious liberties which there so enainently prevail, and which he desired so eagerly to enjoy. Joseph Priestley was a man of the most perfect J; i 104 i-T hf simplicity and integrity. He laid open his mind I' on all occasions, pursuing his ends by direct means, and performing every social duty. His ;: temper was easy and cheerful, kind and friendly. His manners were sweet and gentle in social in- ; tercourse; and many, who entertained the strong- !' est prejudice against his opinions, were converted i|;i into friends on becoming acquainted with the : ■ man. Even when irritated by his opponents, he I' never used the language of animosity. He could li be the friend of his antagonist, i 'I He had great activity, facility, and acuteness of li' mind, and perseverance in investigation; he ex¬ celled in perspicuity of expression, and no expe¬ rimentalist was ever more free from jealousy, or the petty vanity of prior discovery. Religion was to him the most important of all concerns, and that which chiefly excited the ardour of his mind. He believed in the proper humanity of Christ, rejecting his miraculous conception and the doc¬ trine of atonement; he also believed in a future state, in which punishment is to be only emenda- tory, since all beings are to be finally happy. That his marvellousness and secretiveness.were small, is easily perceived. The organs of justice and firmness were certainly large. Fig. 2 .—Richard Price. j;|| In this head the organs of the perceptive and iil :'1 105 reflective powers are of an uncommon magnitude, particularly those of individuality, size, calcula¬ tion, language, and causality. The organs of marvellousness and ideality are very large. The original picture is painted by Benjamin West, and the engraving, from which this figure is taken, is by Holloway. Dr. Price, universally known by his mathema¬ tical, moral, and political writings, was the son of .a dissenting minister at Brigend, in Wales. His father was a rigid Calvinist, but young Richard occasionally started his doubts and difficulties (his self-esteem and destructiveness being small), and often incurred his father’s displeasure by the ' arguments which he advanced against the tenets of his sect. By his great reflective powers and moral feelings, he cultivated the different branches of academical learning with extraordinary dili¬ gence and success, particularly the mathematical sciences, moral philosophy, and divinity. On ac¬ count of his perceptive and reflective faculties, and moral and religious feelings being strong, the books which he read were select rather than nu¬ merous ; but these he studied with the closest attention (by his great reflective powers). He made his first appearance before the public as an author, in a Review oj the principal Questions and Difficulties in Mo7'als. There he contends for the propriety of recognising understanding as neces¬ sary to establish morality, an eternal and iramu- 'it 106 table entity, and not the arbitrary production of any power, but equally everlasting and necessary with all truth and reason. He was fond of uniting philosophy and piety. He was zealous for the great principles of civil and religious liberty, and for rational religious, knowledge. His opinions, of course, displeased those who were fond of power, and they therefore endeavoured to hold him up to the public odium. In all his doings we perceive great reflective powers, strong moral and religious feelings, and little combativeness, destructiveness, acquisitiveness, and self-esteem. The contents of his sermons are practical. His manner of delivering them was natural, unaffected, and very earnest. In his devotional exercises particularly, there was a great degree of fervour and sincerity. His private character was exem¬ plary and amiable. Of his disinterestedness he gave a striking instance, when, on removing from his native country into England, he divided the little his father had bequeathed him, between his two sisters, and only reserved a few pounds to defray the expenses of his journey to London. He abounded in natural goodness. His hours of study were frequently broken in upon for as¬ sistance and advice; but he could never resist without reluctance even troublesome and unrea¬ sonable solicitations. A fifth part of his annual income was regularly devoted to charitable pur¬ poses, and he was laudably anxious to distribute FI. xxiv: 107 it in such a way as might produce the greatest good. la the practice of these virtues he Avas devoid of ostentation. Simplicity and humility were among the strong features of his character. He attracted the attention and regard of all, without an effort to outshine any one, and with¬ out considering himself as a person of any con¬ sequence. In its place, or when called upon, he frequently displayed superior knowledge, and he was always as willing to receiA’e as to give in¬ formation. He discussed with candour on every subject, and was unaifected in receiving praise and in acknowledging defects. He was free from constraint and servility in the highest company, and from haughtiness in the lowest. He was open to truth as he was fearless of making it known. PLATE XXIV. ^ Fig. 1 .—The Pope Martin V. In this portrait the basilar is much more de¬ veloped than the sincipital region. Such a brain always takes much less interest in general wel¬ fare than in individual and private views. The courage, destructiveness, secretiveness, acquisi¬ tiveness, firmness, self-esteem, and powerful per¬ ceptive faculties, produce an enterprising cha¬ racter, and give practical skill. Such brains go 108 i i'l with the tide of circumstances, and choose the party with which the greatest advantages may be gained. Their benevolence and veneration are not active enough to keep the feelings which are common to man and animals under control. The perceptive faculties being considerable, and acting in combination with the above-mentioned feelings, will have no difficulty in finding out means for insuring success in all selfish views. Such a forehead may acquire a large stock of ideas, and impose by borrowed knowledge, but it will attend little to general principles. Use¬ fulness will be a leading feature in all the deeds of a man so constituted; even his religious opinions will be esteemed in proportion only as they are available in actual life. Did circum¬ stances lead such a man to become a missionary, or did his great locality dispose him to enter on that vocation, he would not hesitate to use fear as a means of making converts. Every means, indeed, would be apt to appear good and ad¬ missible, provided he gained his object. History tells us that Martin V., when on the point of being elected to the papal dignity, very readily promised to favour the reformation of the church, in its head and its members ; but having obtained possession of the popedom, he showed himself disinclined to yield in any point noxious to his interests. On the day of his coronation at Constance, where his election took place, he 109 rode through the city, in pontifical attire, on horseback, attended by the emperor on foot, holding his bridle on the right hand, and the elector of Brandenburg on the left, and followed by a crowd of princes, and the whole council. When he found that a reform of the church was earnestly wished for, he, under the pretext of a great deal of time being required for delibera¬ tion, left the business to a council, which was to meet at Pavia in the course of five years, and soon dissolved the council at Constance. Before the expiration of five years, a council was as¬ sembled at Pavia, whence, however, on account of the plague breaking out in that city, it was translated to Sienna. Here, again, several efforts were made towards the salutary work of re¬ formation in the church and clergy, which were eluded and frustrated under a variety of pre¬ tences ; and when some of the bishops moved for the confirmation of the decree of the council of Constance, asserting the superiority of the council to the pope, Martin, to prevent that point, or any other concerning the power and authority of the apostolic see, from being brought into debate, dissolved the council, appointing another to meet at Basle, before the expiration of seven years. Martin made it a chief business to promote crusades against the Hussites of Bohemia; he exhorted the emperor Sigismund, the king of Poland, and " other princes, to unite, either in 110 T7 ii compelling those heretics to return into the bo¬ som of the church, or in extirpating them. He resembled the majority of his predecessors, not only in their aversion for all measures tending to a reformation of the church, but also in their love of money and nepotism, preferring, in the disposal of lucrative employments, his relations to all others, however deserving, and by that means leaving them, at his death, possessed of immense wealth. Martin, soon after his arrival at Rome, caused the house in the neighbour¬ hood of the church of the Twelve Apostles, which belonged to his family, and in which he was born, to be pulled down, and a magnificent palace to be built in its room. Temporal con¬ cerns were sufficient reasons for him to excom¬ municate nations and princes. His mind was exceedingly evasive. He apparently always com¬ plied with reasonable proposals, but he constantly ' contrived to elude them, if contrary to his views. The emperor of Constantinople, Manuel Paleo- lagre, proposed a meeting or council of the Roman and Greek bishops, in ^order to effect a recon¬ ciliation of the two churches. Martin answered, that he was very willing to arrange this important affair, if the emperor would pay the expenses of all the Latin bishops and prelates who should journey to Constantinople. Martin knew before¬ hand that the emperor was not rich enough to furnish the sums necessary for such a purpose. Ill His animal nature was evidently stronger than the powers proper to man, just as his cerebral organization indicates. Fig. 2 .—Paul Lejeune, Jesuit and Missionary, This is one of the most noble forms of head that can be seen, and is an excellent model of what a missionary ought to be. The organ of locality, which gives a fondness for travelling, is large, and in combination with the organs of the per¬ ceptive powers, particularly individuality and lan¬ guage, in great proportion. The whole sincipital region is much developed; great beneVolence, veneration, and conscientiousness, are assisted by firmness, hope, and marvellousness. .If an individual thus endowed give his word of pro¬ mise, he may be depended on ; he will be most unhappy if circumstances put it out of his power to fulfil it; he will never think of changing his mind, unless the common welfare require it; whilst a person with a brain like that of Martin V. (fig. 1. of the same plate) will merely attend to selfish views, and according to these alter, at every turning, his line of conduct. A man with a head such as Lejeune’s will be a credit and an ornament in every profession. He will always be prudent, firm, and unremitting in his duties, and in doing good to others; whilst one with 113 such a head as Martin’s, will be cunning and persevering in acts agreeable to his animal pro¬ pensities alone. Lejeune displayed great abilities, and the no¬ blest feelings, from his earliest age. He destined himself to the task of propagating Christianity among the savages of Canada, in North America. No fatigues, no privations, no interruptions, could turn him from his resolution of doing good to his fellow-creatures. During seventeen years he lived among the savages, exposed to hardships of every description. The long winter season he spent in their miserable huts, continually filled with wood-smoke, which had no other outlet than the door, and so low that he could not stand upright in them, and was therefore obliged to sit or lie upon the ground, in company with the filthy inhabitants and their dogs. His most dis¬ agreeable sensations resulted from the filthiness of the people; and his greatest annoyance from the cunning behaviour of a sorcerer, who de¬ ceived the poor natives in the most shocking manner, and was nevertheless adored by them. The religious piety of Lejeune never abated, and he constantly blessed God for every thing that happened. But the conduct of this good man was not only moral and religious, it was also marked by great prudence and understanding. He lived with the savages; went out to hunt with them; and took 113 the greatest pains to learn their language, though he found it very difficult. He was sometimes obliged to repeat the same word twenty times before he could seize its pronunciation and mean¬ ing ; yet he succeeded by degrees in reducing their language to rules; he formed declensions of the nouns, conjugations of the verbs, and composed a syntax and a dictionary. He at¬ tached himself especially to the children; became their schoolmaster, and composed a catechism in their mother tongue. Every phrenologist must dwell with pleasure over the contemplation of such a head as that of the good Lejeune, and inwardly pray that every one destined to teaeh the , sublime truths of Christianity, were endowed with a similar noble configuration of brain. I 114 iii^- ■-It!' ■■ 0 - !! ' ![:; Chapter III. Portraits of Independent Characters. p' When speaking of the new method of examining '! the physiognomical signs of the head, I said that % the posterior portion of the sincipital region I maintains the activity of, or gives perseverance p to, the other faculties. This region of the head, i! particularly that part of it in which the organs of firmness and self-esteem are situated, is strongly marked in those who are conspicuous for their love of independence. This feeling is strength¬ ened by courage, and ennobled by justice. There are individuals who shew great reluctance to obey, but who are prone and eager to command; they possess much self-esteem and firmness, with little benevolence, veneration, and justice. Such men are furthermore overbearing, and fond of privileges, in proportion as their animal or selfish propensities predominate. Individuals, on the contrary, who possess great firmness and self¬ esteem, along with the whole sincipital region in large, and the basilar in small proportion, will contend for the sacrediiess of personal liberty, i and free principles of government, for equality of rights, and submission by all to the same laws as necessary to the happiness of the com- If munity at large. i' ^ r\ 115 PLATE XXV. Fig. 1.—William of Nassau, Prince of Orange, founder of the Dutch Republic. The forehead in this portrait is broad and high; lienee the organs of the perceptive and reflective faculties, individuality and language in particular, are large. The sincipital region, from benevo¬ lence backwards, rises higher and higher, to firmness. The lateral regions are considerable, but still subordinate to the superior parts of the brain. Upon a man thus constituted every reli¬ ance may be placed ; such an individual is worthy of being intrusted with the supreme authority. William was born in 1533, at the castle of Dillenburg, in Germany. His parents were Lu¬ therans, but he, living at the court of the empe¬ ror Charles V., conformed to the Roman Catholic form of worship, and became a great favourite of the emperor, who consulted him in the most delicate affairs. Having ample possessions in the Low Countries, William was made governor of the provinces of Holland, Zeeland, and Utrecht. Charles sent him with the imperial crown to his son .Ferdinand, and when abdicating, appeared before the public supported on his arm. Charles also recommended him warmly to his son Philip. William, however, soon perceived that Philip II. did not entertain the same sentiments towards him which he had experienced from his father. 116 II I iih 11 II || ! i I Ik ! I Si I ’f=: If V If A It is true William opposed, by every means in his power, the arbitrary proceedings of the Spanish court, and the severities practised against the peo¬ ple of the Low Countries on account of their re¬ ligion ; he even advised the States to petition for redress, and communicated all the indignation he felt at the policy of Spain to the Flemish nobility. Though a professor of the catholic religion, the prince of Orange was the open enemy of bigotry; he declared against tumultuous proceedings of every description, and strove to prevent extre¬ mities. In the councils of Philip, however, a resolution was taken to quell all resistance by direct force, and the duke of Alba was fixed upon as the fittest person to carry sanguinary measures into execution, William, aware that his moderation made him an object of suspicion, and satisfied that no effec¬ tual opposition could be made to the plan of violence now adopted, threw up all his employ¬ ments, and retired, with his family, to his brother at Nassau, having first publicly declared that it was his intention to remain quiet, unless he were treated as an enemy. He was soon cited to appear and answer to charges of sedition and treason, which were pre¬ ferred against him. On his non-appearance, his estates were confiscated, his eldest son, who was studying at Louvain, was carried off to Spain, and he himself condemned to death. lie now applied r\ 117 to several German princes for assistance, and at length levied an army, with which it w^as his intention to penetrate into Brabant; but Alba defeating his brother, obliged him to disband his troops, and return to Germany. William was not shaken in his purpose by this defeat: he brought together a new army, and went himself to Bra¬ bant ; but the towns were awed by the cruelties of Alba, and shut their gates upon him, so that he had to retire across the Rhine, without hav¬ ing come to an action, ' By these exertions his resources were now exhausted, and he could maintain no more than twelve hundred horse, with which he joined the duke of Deuxponts, in the cause of the young king of Navarre. But the protestants were defeated in Poitou, and William had to effect his escape in the disguise of a pea¬ sant. He assembled a third army, and again entered Brabant. This time he was received as a deliverer, and gained several advantages over the Spaniards, but for w'ant of money was again obliged to disband his soldiers. Soon after, however, his perseverance was rewarded. Seve¬ ral towns in Zeeland and Holland revolted ; the nobles and deputies from the principal towns in Holland formed themselves into an independent state, and nominated William their chief. Forces for sea and land service were levied, a regular revenue was raised, the Roman catholic worship abolished, and a protestant church, upon the pr ,1 ' i! • I '■ 118 « plan of that of Geneva, established in its stead. After the greatest exertions, William succeeded t in carrying the important measure of a general union among the provinces of the Low Countries for their mutual defence. The infamous designs against the life of Wil¬ liam, which were never intermitted from the time of his proscription, were at last successful. One Balthazar Gerard, a native of Franche Comt6, shot him at the age of fifty-one, at Delft. He ^ was lamented by the whole people; they regarded E him as their protector and sole support. It is said that his arrival in any town was commonly announced in these familiar and endearing terms: Father William is come !’’ The character of William is depicted as uniting magnanimity, secrecy, prudence, equanimity in all situations, singular penetration and sagacity, popular eloquence, a retentive memory, and the art of conciliating men’s affections. His cerebral organization explains his various endowments. The brain was large, generally; all the upper region, and particularly firmness, in great pro¬ portion. The portrait from which the one I have given here is copied, is inscribed with the motto, Je maintiendrai (I shall maintain). Cautiousness, secretiveness, and reflection acted as prudence and sagacity, and William’s nobler sentiments produced magnanimity. Such a leader will always render justice to whom it is due. William t l: I ■ 119 was charged by Philip with ingratitude, dis¬ loyalty, and other crimes, in the grossest terras ; but his intentions seem always to have been pure and patriotic. If his memory has been reviled by the advocates of despotism, it has received and deserves the highest honours from a people, who gratefully acknowledge him as the principal author of their freedom and independence. Fig. 2.— Ramus, {Peter Ramee.) This head is extremely elevated at firmness and self-esteem; the occipital region is full, the organ of courage particularly marked, and the forehead is prominent,—language and individuality remark¬ ably so. It is the brain of a thinking and deter¬ minate character. The constitution, or tempera¬ ment, moreover, is one of great activity. Ramus was born at a village in Picardy. His grandfather was a nobleman of Liege, who lost all his property by the ravages of war, and with¬ drew to France, where he was reduced to gain his livelihood by making and selling charcoal, and his father followed husbandry for his support. Ramus at a very early period.of his life showed a fondness for learning, and went at different times, from the age of only eight years, to seek instruc¬ tion at Paris. But he was on every occasion speedily compelled to depart by poverty, and the adverse circumstances of the times. His passion 120 for study, however, induced him to return once more, when he was received in the capacity of a servant into the college of Navarre. In this situation, after spending the day in at¬ tendance upon his master, he devoted the great¬ est part of the night to study, and by his own industry made considerable progress in learning. His talents and perseverance at last procured him a more honourable station in the college, and he spent three years and a half going through a course of philosophy. During this time, having become acquainted with the Aristotelian logic, and discovered its defects, he came to the bold reso¬ lution of attacking it in the schools, and of sub¬ stituting in its stead a better system. Accord¬ ingly, upon the occasion of standing candidate for the degree of Master of Arts, he held a public disputation against the authority of Aristotle, and maintained his thesis with such ingenuity and ability, as astonished and confounded his exa¬ miners. From this time Ramus determined to overturn the old logic. He lectured on philo¬ sophy and eloquence, and published a book, en¬ titled, Aristotelicce Anirmdversio7ies, containing a very vehement attack upon Aristotle. This attack upon a system which had been uni¬ versally admired for ages, gave great offence, as was to be expected, to the followers of Aristotle, and raised a violent storm of resentment against Ramus, particularly among the professors of the 121 University of Paris. At first they made use of no other weapons in their contests with him than those of logic and eloquence, but they soon pro¬ ceeded to adopt harsher measures: they loudly accused him, before the civil magistrate, of a design, by opposing Aristotle, to sap the foun¬ dations of religion and learning. So great was their clamour, that the Parliament of Paris took c ognizance of the business; but when the Aristotelians perceived that the cause was likely to meet with an impartial hearing and equitable decision from that tribunal, they, by their intrigues, got it removed from the parlia¬ ment to the king’s council. A public disputation took place ; it lasted two days; Ramus com¬ plained of the unfair proceeding of his enemies, but the result was, that the king, prepossessed against him by the calumnies of his enemies, decreed, that Ramus’s books should be sup¬ pressed, and himself prohibited, for the future, from writing or reading any logical or philoso¬ phical lectures, without express permission first obtained. His enemies published the sentence in Latin and French, in all the streets of Paris, and sent it to all parts of Europe. They even held him up to ridicule upon the stage. This disgrace of Ramus, however, was but of short duration ; he soon lectured again, and at¬ tracted a crowd of auditors. The faculty of the Sorbonne attempted to expel him, but he was a 122 maintained by an edict of the parliament. After this he met with a generous and powerful patron in the cardinal of Lorraine, who, by his interest with the king, Henry II., obtained the repeal of the decree of Francis I., and thus secured to our author perfect freedom of writing and speaking upon philosophical subjects. By means of the same patron, Ramus was appointed regius pro¬ fessor of eloquence and philosophy. His enemies, however, never desisted, and con¬ trived to excite prejudices against him, as a con¬ vert to the doctrine of the Reformation. He was obliged to conceal himself at Fontainbleau, under the protecting arm of the king. When his ene¬ mies discovered the place of his retreat, they compelled him to seek safety in greater obscu¬ rity. The peace concluded between Charles IX. and the protestants, enabled him to return to Paris, and to resume his station in the college, as well as his professorship. He continued his lectures with unabated acti¬ vity and increasing reputation, till the second civil war drove him once more from Paris, and forced him to fly for shelter to the Protestant army, when he was present at the battle of St. Denis. The peace restored him to his occupa¬ tions, but foreseeing that he would be able to maintain himself for but a short time, he asked and obtained permission from the king to visit the universities of Germany. Wherever he 123 came much respect was shewn him, and many honours conferred upon him. At Heidelberg he read a course of lectures. He was anxious to obtain a professorship at Geneva, but he did not succeed. It is recorded, that while striving in vain to fix himself among his protestant brethren, he refused several liberal offers, made to him by catholics. He now resolved to return to his native country. At the commencement of the massacre of St. Bartholomew, he took refuge in a cellar, where he lay concealed during two days. An infamous rival, Charpentaire, a pro¬ fessor of mathematics, who had been eclipsed by the superior talents of Ramus, at length disco¬ vered him, dragged him from his place of con¬ cealment, and directed his hired assassins to despatch their victim. The scholars of Charpen¬ taire dragged the body ignominiously along the streets, and threw it into the Seine. Ramus was a man of universal learning, and an accomplished orator; this was from the large size of the organs of language, and the perceptive powers in general. He was endowed with emi¬ nent moral qualities ; and the head of Ramus is very elevated. He, on every occasion where it could avail, shewed great firmness and resolu¬ tion of mind; and the organs of firmness and courage appear to be very large. His temper¬ ance and disinterestedness were exemplary: his brain is comparatively of small size laterally. 124 With great boldness and constancy, he asserted the natural freedom of the human understanding. He was more successful in undermining the au¬ thority which Aristotle had so long possessed in the schools, than in his attempt to raise a new system of logic and metaphysics. His fame as a philosopher vanished before that of Des Cartes. He was strongly attached to his country, and his inhabitiveness is very large. He was never shaken by disgrace or misfortune. PLATE XXVI. Fig.I Stubbs. In this portrait the organs of benevolence and firmness are particularly elevated; that of vene¬ ration is lower; those of the perceptive faculties are prominent. It is the brain of a humane and benevolent, but sturdy and independent character. In a man thus endowed, the religious are weaker , than the moral feelings. Stubbs excelled as a painter of animals; but I give this figure as an illustration of character, and not as calculated to shew the organs necessary to the arts of imita¬ tion. To this end, front views of portraits are necessary. The second part of this work, on Talents, will contain figures for that purpose, whilst this part only presents cerebral configura¬ tions that accompany or indicate a variety of characters.. n.Ajri. 125 t'ig. 2 .—Gustavus de Schlabrendorf. This portrait is copied from a bust in plaster of Paris, taken after death. The greater portion of the brain is in the anterior and sincipital, or upper regions ; the intellectual organs are but of moderate size, and not large enough in proportion to those of the feelings. Individuality, eventu¬ ality, locality, language, and comparison, are the fullest of the intellectual organs; causality is middling. Among the feelings, those of self¬ esteem and firmness are extremely large; then come benevolence, veneration, conscientiousness, hope, and cautiousness. Among those of the reli¬ gious sentiments, that of marvellousness is the smallest. In the basilar region, the organs of acquisitiveness, secretiveness, destructiveness, and philoprogenitiveness are the most largely de¬ veloped; courage, attachment, and amativeness the most scantily so. De Schlabrendorf was the eldest son of an emi¬ nent family in Prussia; he received an excellent education, and from the earliest age indulged in liberal and independent ideas. He admired the principles of the stoical philosophy, and openly approved of the French revolution. This brought down the displeasure of the Prussian government upon him, and he lost his estates by confiscation; but he bore his bad fortune maijfully for several years. He, like many others, was soon put out u i’: 126 I' i of conceit with his sublime conceptions of the I dignity of human nature; at least he abandoned I them as applicable to the then living generation. Though his landed property in Silesia was re- I stored to him at a later period, he continued to I live with the greatest parsimony. He confined I himself to the most simple lodging on the second i' floor, in the Rue Richelieu, near the Palais Royale I at Paris. The same chamber was his library, sit- j; ting, dining, and bed-room. He wore neither I small-clothes nor .shirt; a morning-gown, a pair i; of old slippers, sometimes stockings and a neck- i cloth, composed his whole attire. He never shaved, kept no servant, but had his bed made by the porter of the house, and his dinner brought from the restaurateur’s. At the same time he was very benevolent and charitable, encouraged young artists, and contributed largely to many institutions of common utility. No one who was poor ever asked him for assistance in vain; and though frequently deceived, he never ceased to be benevolent and useful. In this way he lived for more than ten years, a hermit in the most populous part of Paris. I Were I called on to give an opinion, as a phre- • nologist, of this singular man, I should say that, from the nature of his intellectual development, he is fond of learning facts and historical events, lii and of travelling; that his judgment will not I always be sound with respect to the causes of ji!' 'cI’ ' 127 events; that he is overwhelmed by his feelings, particularly self-esteem and firmness. In any good cause, too, he will be apt to flatter himself with success, and, if disappointed, will suffer a great deal, though he will struggle resolutely against every appearance of chagrin. His secretiveness being large, he will be pleased with concealing his intentions and thoughts. Family considera¬ tions will be nothing to him, his love of independ¬ ence predominates; but his benevolence, vene- lation, and justice will prevent him from injuring any one; and these feelings, in union with little courage, will rather make him bear with injustice than meditate revenge. As he is rich, it were difficult to say what direction his considerable acquisitiveness will take ; probably it would in¬ duce him to make collections calculated to gratify some of his most active powers. Its activity being combated by various sentiments of a supe¬ rior order, even by self-esteem, is never to be apprehended. I conceive his singular manner of living may be explained in the following* way:— He was confined to prison for many months during the French revolution, and was obliged to subsist upon five sols a day. At the same time his pro¬ perty was confiscated on account of his liberal and independent principles. This circumstance must certainly have offended his pride, his notions of independence, and all his favourite philoso- phieal ideas. He knew, too, that his government 128 would have imprisoned him in some fortress, had they been able to get him into their power. Now such a character as Schlabrendorf could without difficulty resolve upon leading a life of solitude, and once accustomed to it, would feel inclined to continue the habit, even after poverty and adverse circumstances generally made it no longer neces¬ sary. I had opportunities of knowing that he had formed vast plans of establishments for the public convenience. He therefore felt greater enjoyment in contemplating future results to be produced by his influence, than in spending his money on his peculiar comforts. On the whole, 1 think that his firmness and self-esteem were the mainsprings of all his actions. 4 129 Chapter IV. Portraits of haughty, ambitious, vain, and touchy, or easily-offended Characters. Portrait-painters and sculptors, not aware of the influence which the cerebral organization exerts on the mental manifestations, have hitherto, fdr the most part, been satisfied with an imitation of the face and forehead alone, neglecting the rest of the head altogether. Painters commonly pre¬ fer front, or three-quarter face views; but then many of the organs of the affective powers, which form very essential elements in individual charac¬ ters, cannot be seen distinctly. I hope that in future artists will supply a greater number of phrenological proofs than they have yet done. Painters, however, have occasionally made por¬ traits in profile, and, with a few sculptors, have taken great care in imitating the natural form and relative size of the various parts of the head. Now among these productions the phre¬ nologist will find specimens that harmonize with the principles of his science. The fa¬ shion which prevailed during the reign of Louis XIV., of covering the head with enormous wigs, K » is greatly to be regretted, for in all the eminent men of that period, the organs in the forehead only are visible, and their character in regard to understanding alone can be judged of phrenolo- gically. Characters of the description mentioned, in the title of this chapter are of very frequent occurrence in the world, and a few examples will enable my readers to understand the cerebral configuration which indicates them. PLATE XXVII. Fig. 2 .—Philip II. of Spain. The posterior and upper part of* the head of Philip II. appears much elongated backwards ; hence the organs of self-esteem and approbation are very great. Cautiousness, firmness, ideality, and particularly marvellousness, are also large, whilst benevolence and veneration are of minor magnitude. The organs of the intellectual powers are of middling size, but they bear no kind of proportion to those of many of the feelings, by which they will, therefore, be corrupted and swayed. A man thus constituted will always be guided by his feelings; he will be remarkable for his haughtiness and reserve, be very apt to be led astray by religious fanaticism, and easily be made the instrument of an ambitious, selfish, and cruel but crafty priesthood. p/.xxy// !| ^ 1 - ,1 132 I authority. For the suppression of the Refor¬ mation, he established a court of inquisition on the model of that of Spain, and retained a body of foreign troops in the country to overpower opposition, notwithstanding the re- !; monstrances of the states, who saw that the subversion of their liberties was the aim of his : policy. He pointedly refused to mitigate the 1 severity of the inquisition, protesting that “ he would rather be without subjects than be a king of heretics.” He never shewed the slightest sign of compunction for the evils which his unfeel¬ ing bigotry occasioned; the severest measures indeed, had, on all occasions, hi^ warmest appro¬ bation. His gloom and reckless severity were increased by a tragical incident in his family. His eldest son, equally ambitious with himself, and of an unruly and violent temper, grew so much disgusted, that he engaged with the dis¬ affected, and formed the design of leaving Spain. Philip ordered the execution of his own son. Philip, by his blind zeal for the catholic re¬ ligion, and his unfeeling spirit of domination, everywhere excited civil commotions, caused an insurrection in Ireland, fitted out an armament to conquer England, or at least to dethrone the queen and restore popery, and countenanced and aided the famous league in France. His ; ’ boundless ambition and bigoted prejudices ren- [! dered his whole reign but a succession of wars 133 and civil broils, and dissipated the immense re¬ sources which he possessed, without effecting any of the great objects at which he aimed. He never commanded his troops himself; he was only once in the neighbourhood of a battle gained by his general, Emmanuel of Savoy, and then during the time of the engagement he was on his knees in a chapel betiVeen two monks, praying and vowing never to be guilty of approaching the battle field. To make up for this, however, the Duke of Alba, his governor of the Low Countries, could boast of having, during the short period of five years, sacrificed eighteen thousand indivi¬ duals by the hands of the public executioner. This very duke who had rendered him the great¬ est services, having, on one occasion, entered the king’s cabinet without previous announcement, was told by Philip himself, that such boldness deserved the axe. Philip is also reported to have said that he would deliver his own son to the inquisition were he to be suspected of heretical principles. Phrenology can alone account for such selfishness, cowardliness, and haughtiness, combined with such a sanguinary and bigoted disposition. His cautiousness was considerable, his courage small, and his destructiveness acted in combination with his religious feelings, self¬ esteem, and firmness. The engraving from which my figure is taken, is after an original painting by Titian. w *■ fi I ?! I! h ttvj f i;'4 134 Fig. 2. —Catherine 11. of Russia, This portrait gives the idea of an unusually large head, and the forehead of a man rather than of a woman. The occipital and basilar regions are strongly marked, and it is not likely, therefore, that the inferior feelings will always be kept in control by the superior sentiments. The organs of self¬ esteem and love of notoriety are particularly large, and will form a very principal feature in the character. The head is high at the upper front part, in the region of benevolence; hence cruelty, whatever other actions of an animal nature be indulged in, will never afford any delight. This illustrious sovereign was the daughter of the petty German prince of Anhalt Zerbst. She was invited by the empress Elizabeth to the Russian court, with the view of promoting an union between her and her nephew, the grand- duke, afterwards the emperor Peter III. Catha¬ rine’s love of sway and passion for glory seem to have been the dominant principles in her con¬ stitution. To gratify the first she made no scruple of breaking down all the barriers of common morality which stood in her way. In pursuit of the second, she aimed at every thing that could raise her character in the eyes of the world. No prince ever surpassed her in the endowment of noble and useful institutions,! or the patronage of 135 science and letters, and the promotion of the arts. She had great confidence in her abilities, and was perhaps too apt to follow splendid novelty, and to seek for expensive rarities. She reformed the administration of justice, encouraged industry, commerce, and instruction, increased the strength and wealth of the empire, and concealed her pri¬ vate crimes, and the evils of her bloody wars, by superior talents, by the glory of foreign ag¬ grandizement, and by the blessings of internal civilization. In this way she obtained the general love and reverence of her subjects. She was gifted with uncommon abilities, and wrote and conversed with ease and dignity. She was kind and humane to those about her, and possessed great equanimity and command of temper. It is said that an air of haughtiness was the more per¬ manent expression of her countenance, which, however, was frequently tempered by grace and affability. Her mode of living was temperate and regular. One pleasure, sensuality, alone she indulged in without restraint, and in pursuit of it she made all the decorum of sex openly give way to the license of sovereign power. The nature of her attachments, however, for the most part, prevented favourites from gaining any influence in the serious affairs of government. Her intellect was too strong to be corrupted, her love of do¬ minion too powerful ever to endure the superiority of ministers and favourites. 136 Her character and talents, in general, were those of a man, and her cerebral organization was in harmony. PLATE XXVIII. Pig. 1.— Lalande, the Astronomer. Joseph Jerome Lalande was born at Bourg, in the department of the Aine. His father in¬ tended him for the bar, and sent him to Paris to study law. But his natural talent for astro¬ nomy frustrated the views of his parents; and this taste once awakened, became his principal occu¬ pation throughout life. When engaged in the law, he at the same time attended the lectures on astronomy at the college of France, and was the only auditor of the course. He requested and obtained the permission of the professor Le- monnier, to assist him in his observations. He soon gave up the law entirely, and laid himself out to profit by the lessons of his instructor, who, on his side, conceived a paternal affection for a pupil who gave such promise of future eminence. Shortly after this, the celebrated La Caille was preparing to set out for the Cape of Good Hope, in order to determine the parallax of the moon, and the distance of that planet from the earth. To accomplish this object, it was necessary that PI XXV/U a 137 the same observations should be made by another observer, placed under the same meridian, and at the greatest distance that could be conveniently chosen; and Berlin being thought the most proper station, the French Academy determined that an astronomer should be sent to that city. Lalande, though scarcely nineteen years of age, was the person fixed upon for this purpose. The account which he gave of his mission, on his return, pro¬ cured him a place in the Academy of Sciences, and he became a constant contributor to its Me¬ moirs. Almost every one of its volumes con¬ tained an essay from the pen of Monsieur La¬ lande, He repeated the same ideas frequently ; but he was exceedingly fond of attracting public notice, and of being mentioned in the news¬ papers. He said of himself, that he was an oil¬ cloth for blame, and a sponge for praise. He was particularly desirous of being considered a philosopher, and above prejudice. He was pas¬ sionately devoted to astronomy, a great pro¬ moter of that science, and certainly the most learned, though not the most profound and origi¬ nal, astronomer of France. His eccentricities of character were great, and his vanity insatiable. , His labours were not confined to astronomical subjects, but extended to various branches of science. He was extravagant enough to publish a dictionary of Atheists, in which he registered not only many of the illustrious dead, but a great 138 number of his contemporaries, and some of the principal dignitaries of the French empire. The organs of individuality, size, configuration, weight, number, and language, are very large; those of ideality, approbation, and self-esteem, predominant. Finally, those of the religious feel¬ ings are small. Hence the talent, as well as the singular character of Lalande, are easily con¬ ceived upon phrenological principles. Pig. 2.—James Vaniere. The occipital region of this head is very much elongated, particularly in the direction of the organs of firmness, self-esteem, and love of ap¬ probation. The cerebral organization, indeed, is generally remarkable: the organs of language, individuality, locality, time, number, and ideality, are large, and the bodily constitution is very active. This portrait may serve as a model of what is called a touchy or susceptible character; a frame of mind which principally depend^ on self-esteem,'dove of approbation, and ideality bein]^ active; the disposition, however,,is further in¬ creased by a large endowment of combativeness and firmness, with a smaller proportion of be¬ nevolence and justice. Men so constituted are much disposed to be dissatisfied with the world, and to be complaining continually of others. Such a combination, without love of approbation, produces self-sufficiency, and utter indifference to the opinions of others; but the addition of love of approbation produces the unhappy state of mind I have just mentioned. The character of J. J. Rousseau, which appears incomprehensible, is easily explained on the sup¬ position of a similar combination of powers. He certainly possessed the organs of ideality, self¬ esteem, love of approbation, and cautiousness, of a large, and those of courage and philoprogeni¬ tiveness of a small, size. Vaniere was born in the diocese of Beziers, in Languedoc. He studied in the Jesuits’ College, and entered into their society. He distinguished himself by his Latin poetry. He employed twenty years of his life on a dictionary of the Latin and French tongues, but did not finish it. The spirit of all Vaniere’s*lucubrations was of an intolerant cast: this pervaded even his descrip¬ tions, composed amidst beautiful scenery, of the artless manners of a simple peasantry. - ■' I ' ■I " ' ■ PLATE XXIX. The influence of self-esteem and love of ap¬ probation being so extensive in social relations, it may be useful to mankind to know exactly the cerebral configuration which indicates great activity of these feelings. It is with this view 140 that I have given the six figures of this twenty- ninth plate. Fig. 1. is the portrait of a bishop; fig. 2. of a minister of state; fig. 3. of a general; fig. 4. of a governor of a province; fig. 5. of a deputy or member of parliament; and fig. 6. of an author. A bishop with such a head will be fond of worldly distinctions, and labour for the supe¬ riority of the ecclesiastical order. He will pos- • sess great intellect, and may speak in eloquent terms of humility, but all his actions will indicate haughtiness and vanity. A minister of state like fig. 2. will display a powerful mind; but he will feel strongly inclined to command, and impose his own will as law upon the community: he will foster national pride, speak of glory, exhibit trophies, encourage the erection of monuments, and feel the disposition, at almost any price, to remain among the leaders or influential party in the government. A general whose brain resembles that of fig. 3. will live for badges of orders, for parade, and outward distinctions. He will serve every master who satisfies his love of glory, that is, who has titles to confer, and who affords him opportunities for display. The administrator of the province will be fond of showing his power; he will be a “ little man dressed in brief au¬ thority;” be very eager after marks of honour, and show a large appetite for flattery. The de¬ puty will be zealous in the cause of religion and 141 government, provided his ambition and selfish views are gratified. Finally, the author will faithfully serve that party which appeals most powerfully to his vanity and selfishness. Such beings, and their like, particularly if the head be wide, or laterally developed, and the organ of conscientiousness be small, will always sacrifice the duties of their station, whatever it be, to their vanity and personal interest. Supposing the re¬ ligious, political, military, and civil affairs of a state to be in the hands of individuals so con¬ stituted, however vast their intellectual powers, strict justice and morality will be little attended to ; Christian humility will be disfigured, legis¬ lation corrupted, and the equality before the law annihilated; personal distinctions and pre¬ rogatives will prevail, and all sorts of iniquities be supported by the force of arms, by false re¬ ports, and by wilful mistatements. The ex¬ istence of the commonweal is incompatible with that of men in authority possessed of such brains. What a difference between these heads and those of Massillon, L’ Hopital, Crillon, Franklin, Males- herbes, Jeannin, Walsingham, Oberlin, Lejeune, William of Nassau, and of all who subject their pride and ambition to the invariable laws of mo¬ rality ! Phrenologists, as more particular ob¬ servers of mankind, are fully aware of the in¬ fluence and of the cause of the energy of these 142 r ;■ 1,1 . i 1 ? two feelings, and cannot help considering them, ‘ when very active, as among the most formi¬ dable enemies of general happiness, of true li¬ berty, and of every institution that is calculated to raise mankind in the scale of worth true and excellence. >f I ■- V' i" t 143 Chapter V. Of gay and gloomy Characters. Mirthpulness, hope, and imitation, are faculties essential in the constitution of the merry, witty, or gay character; frequently, however, melody, individuality, eventuality, approbativeness, and secretiveness, also enter into its composition, and heighten it: on the other hand, great cautious¬ ness, firmness, selfesteem, justice, and powers of reflection, with little mirthfulness, hope, and imi¬ tation, produce the gloomy or melancholic turn of mind. The gay and the gloomy character are alike exalted by ideality. Those who unite the feelings which constitute the merry, as well as those which compose the gloomy, character, are subject to alternate fits of despondency, and of exuberant mirth. Mirthfulness, without be¬ nevolence and veneration, is the parent of satire, the disposition to indulge in which is increased by combativeness, destructiveness, self-esteem, and firmness. Mirthfulness, combined with se¬ cretiveness and imitation, is fond of playing tricks. In union with constructiveness, configuration, size, and imitation, it produces caricature. 144 PLATE XXX. Fig. 1.— Piron. '".I t^j fs I ! This portrait indicates great development of the organs of mirthfulness, ideality, the intellec¬ tual powers, and a lymphatic-sanguineous con¬ stitution. Individuality, size, form, calculation, language, and the reflective faculties, are strongly marked. The rest of the head is so much con¬ cealed by th e wig, that the organs of the feelings can scarcely be guessed at. Piron was the son of an apothecary at Dijon,, and born in 1689. The first twenty-five years of his life he spent in obscurity, and amid vulgar enjoyments. The odium excited by a licentious ode, of which he was the author, obliged him to quit his native town, and he went to Paris, where he for some years supported himself as a copying clerk. His earliest literary efforts were of a dramatic nature, and written for the Comic Opera house. His success was at first moderate. But at length, in 1739, having presented the public with his co¬ medy of La Metromanie, his name rose immediately into reputation. His society was then courted greatly, and he became famous for his repartees and bon mots, and particularly for his happy knack at writing epigrams. He was fond of making caustic remarks upon the French Aca¬ demy, the members of which he used to call the '".I t^j I ! /y.x\A a' 145 invalids of wit. He nevertheless made an attempt to gain admission into this society," and never did he forgive their negative. The epitaph he com¬ posed for himself, on the occasion, is well known: Ci-git Piron qui ne fut rien, , Pas ineme academicien. His self-esteem was somewhat too great, but his conduct was never low nor wicked; his domi¬ nant desire was to add to the amusement of his friends. Fig. 2.>~^Charles Antony Bertinazzi^ Better known as, Carlin, a famous comic actor. His father was an officer in the Piedmontese service; and Carlin, at the age of fourteen, be¬ came an ensign. To provide the means of living a little better, he gave lessons in fencing and dancing, and also enacted comedies with his scholars. When , at Bologna, it happened that a new piece was announced for performance, but that he who was to have played the harlequin had disappeared. Carlin offered to take the part, and actually performed it to the great satis¬ faction of the public. It was only at the fourth representation that he was discovered by his friends, who then advised him to take to the stage as a profession. He adopted their counsel, and went to Venice, and afterwards played in several towns of Italy. In 1771 he appeared at 146 Paris upon the Italian stage, and continued to amuse the Parisians, as harlequin, during forty- two years. He was remarkable for his inven¬ tive powers on the stage, and for the brilliant flashes of wit which he displayed on the spur of the moment. He once engaged to play singly, and in five acts to exhibit the twenty-six mis¬ fortunes of a harlequin; he succeeded com¬ pletely in his undertaking, giving the greatest satisfaction to the house. Many of his witty sayings are still preserved, and frequently re¬ peated by the admirers of bon-mots. It is a pity that the greatest part of the head is covered with a cap: the broad forehead, however, and the great development of the organs of mirthful¬ ness, ideality, imitation, secretiveness, configura¬ tion, and language, are distinctly seen. The or¬ gans of benevolence and justice must also have been large ; for Carlin was good-tempered in the highest degree ; his sallies were never tinged with personal sarcasm, and his probity was above suspicion. PI XXXf. 147 Chapter VI, Portraits of bold and timid Characters. Characters of this description are particularly indicated by the relative development of comba¬ tiveness and cautiousness ; the larger the former, in proportion to the latter, the bolder and more enterprising will be the disposition, and the con¬ trary. Courage, however, is greatly aided by destructiveness, self-esteem, firmness, and justice; combined with sufficient cautiousness and reflec¬ tion, a prudent but decisive turn of mind is the result. PLATE XXXL Two Skulls, seen from behind. Fig. 1. is the skull of a very timorous female, who, in spite of all her efforts, her own reasonings, and the exhortations of her friends, could never over¬ come her coward temper. She always replied that her sensations were stronger than reason. The organ of courage is very small; that of cau¬ tiousness, on the contrary, is remarkably large. Firmness is in middling proportion, but not great 148 n enough to counteract fear. Individuals with simi¬ lar brains cannot endure disputation or quarrel¬ ling ; they desire, above all things, peaceableness of temper, and only express hostility to violent proceedings. Fig. 2. is the skull of the Austrian General Wurmser, also seen from behind. The-organ of courage is exceedingly large, that of cautiousness rather small. According to phrenological prin¬ ciples, more personal courage than prudence may be expected from such a head. This, indeed, was the character of the general; he never dis¬ played eminent intellectual capacities, but he was remarkable for his merely animal intrepidity. PLATE XXXII. Fig. 1.— M. T. Cicero. \ This portrait is after an antique bust, which I am inclined to consider an exact imitation of nature. No artist, unless bent upon representing nature faithfully, would ever have given a configuration, such as the bust of Cicero presents, to his marble; the external ear, and, indeed, the whole head is larger on one side than on the other, a circumstance which very frequently happens in nature. Again, the mental constitution indicated by the bust is altogether in conformity with the character and r\ PL \ XX/l. 149 talents of Cicero. The organs of language, loca¬ lity, comparison, causality, acquisitiveness, secre- tiveness, approbativeness, cautiousness, attach¬ ment, philoprogenitiveness, benevolence, imita¬ tion, marvellousness, and conscientiousness are large, whilst those of courage and hope are small. Cicero, even in boyhood, shewed uncommon abilities; he excelled in everything to which he applied. Plutarch tells us that his schoolfellows used to accompany him in a body to and from school, giving him the place of honour in the midst of them, and that many parents visited the school to be witnesses of his extraordinary profi¬ ciency. He was indefatigable in the exercises of reading, writing, and recitation. His inclination for the study of eloquence declared itself as soon as he quitted the juvenile ranks, and assumed the manly toga. His progress was so great, that he soon ventured to publish some remarks on rheto¬ rical invention. The fear of Sylla now induced him to quit Rome for a season, and he went to Athens, pretending ill health as the motive of his journey. His ambition appears to have been con¬ siderably mortified by this check to his progress in the path* of advancement. A retreat in the centre of Grecian learning could not but be pro¬ fitable to a man of Cicero’s attainments and capa¬ city. Here he evinced a decided taste for philo¬ sophy ; he was the first of the Romans who exa¬ mined the great questions on morality and philo- 150 a sophy which had so long been familiav subjects of discussion in Greece. After the death of Sylla he returned to Rome, at the age of thirty years; having, however, first made the tour of Asia, attended the principal rhetoricians of that country, and, to improve his action, taken lessons from the most eminent dra¬ matic performers. On arriving at Rome he at once became the head of the Roman bar. His first public employment was quaestor in Sicily; and as administrator he acted with benevolence and justice. He gradually gained the affections of the Sicilians, who treated him with unusual honours, and considered him the patron and bene¬ factor of their island. He was the saviour of his country in the con¬ spiracy of Catiline; and the noble use he made of his power, notwithstanding some unworthy compliances which he paid as its price, entitles him to the character of a good citizen. His con¬ duct in arriving at the consulate, however, has been excused by the corrupt state of the Roman constitution, which made it scarcely possible to act a distinguished part in public life without cer¬ tain sacrifices to party politics. Cicero was very careful of his health, and ap¬ portioned his hours of business, study, meals, and exercise with great regularity; he was anxious to cultivate both the favour of the peo¬ ple and the friendship of the great, and it cannot 151 be denied but that to these objects he occasionally sacrificed the principles of true patriotism. He was naturally timid, and when the tribune Clodius, whom he had ofiended, proposed the law, enacting that whoever had been concerned in the death of a Roman citizen, before he had been condemned by the people, should be deemed guilty of treason against the state, he lost his presence of mind; and when Clodius impeached him directly of having put Lentulus and others, concerned in Catiline’s conspiracy, to death with¬ out legal trial, he spontaneously retired into banishment. This happened in his forty-ninth year. Dejected, desponding, uncertain where to seek refuge, he wandered for awhile in the south of Italy, and at length embarking at Brundusium, crossed over to Greece. The marks of regard and esteem everywhere lavished on him proved no antidote to his aflfliction; and Cicero, in his exile, atforded a signal proof how little the maxims of philosophy avail in steeling the soul against adversity, unless aided by natural fortitude, by the innate capacity to endure calamity. Though his exile was the cause of the most glo¬ rious era in his life, his persecution had rendered him extremely cautious in his political conduct. In the dissensions between Pompey and Caesar he fluctuated for some time, uncertain which of the two parties to espouse. He approved the cause of Pompey more, but he augured better of the 152 success of Caesar. With the change of the con¬ stitution which now took place, Cicero’s political career was at an end. He lived privately, and devoted himself almost entirely to the study of philosophy, and to the composition of various works. He ultimately became the victim of An¬ tony, against whom he had declared himself in very strong terms. Cicero was mild, benevolent, inclined to virtue, and attached to the public welfare, excessively fond of praise, but devoid of that strength of mind which can alone carry a man, with uniform dig¬ nity and propriety, through the storms of public, or the vexations of private life. That is to say, he had not enough of courage, hope, firmness, and conscientiousness, in proportion to his love of approbation, acquisitiveness, secretiveness, and cautiousness. This mental constitution disposed him to make undue compliances, and occasionally even to desert the cause which he internally ap¬ proved. Still his great benevolence and superior sentiments led him as freely to admit the merits of others as he openly laid claim to those of which he deemed himself possessed. Cicero’s intellectual faculties were of a high order. He had great acuteness of judgment, in other words, great reflective and perceptive powers: he also possessed uncommon powers of language; he will always be considered as one of the first of prose writers : he excelled particu- 153 larly in forensic eloquence, and if he be inferior to Demosthenes in energy, he is superior in variety, copiousness, and all the graces of embellishment. The matter of his philosophical works, it is true, is borrowed from the Grecian schools, but he has the merit of having introduced their learning to his countrymen in an agreeable form. He must, indeed, be ranked rather as the admirer and pro¬ moter of philosophy, than as one of its masters. Viewing his mind phrenologically, or according to the indication of the bust, Cicero may be said to have been possessed of powers calculated to raise him to eminence in practical life, or as adminis¬ trator, but incompatible with the character of a great statesman, through want of quickness and boldness in conception, and of perseverance in execution. Fig. 2 .—The Gladiator, from the antique statue, in the Royal Museum at Paris. The size and form of this head are quite in con¬ formity with the character of a bold, pugnacious man. The principal mass of brain lies in the occipital region, and particularly behind the ears. The organs of the intellectual faculties and moral sentiments are small, whilst that of the propensity to fight is unusually developed. Fighting will be the greatest delight of a being with such a brain. Soldiers similarly constituted will be valiant, but 154 a by want of capacity to profit by instruction, ought never to arrive at the rank of command¬ ers, Their valour should, therefore, be re¬ warded in some other way than by preferment— by an increase of pay, for instance, by some badge of distinction, medal, cross, title, or other inven¬ tion, by which man’s inferior inclinations have been flattered. PLATE XXXIlI. Fig.* 1 .—Martin Luther. The whole forehead of this portrait is large, the organs of language, individuality, eventuality, melody, and of the reflective faculties, are parti¬ cularly prominent. There is also a great deal of brain at the basis of the head, above and behind the ears, and in the neck. The organ of firmness is likewise strongly indicated. A man with such a cerebral organization will be bold, enterprising, endowed with perseverance, and capable of de¬ fending his cause by reasoning. He may, how¬ ever, often feel inclined to go further than pru¬ dence allows. Luther was descended of parents in humble circumstances. He was the son of a smith at Eisleben, in Saxony, and born in the year , 1483. pi.xxxn/ 155 He showed an early inclination for learning. He acquired the rudiments of grammar at home, and in his fourteenth year he went to Magdeburg, where he was reduced to the necessity of begging for his bread in order to live ; after a year he was sent to Eisenach, lived four years among the rela¬ tions of his mother, and distinguished himself by his diligence and proficiency. In the year 1501, he went to the university of Erfurt, and attended the courses of logic and philosophy, according to the scholastic methods then in vogue; but his understanding, naturally sound and superior to everything frivolous, was soon disgusted with those subtle and uninstructive sciences. He was only twenty years of age when he himself began to read lectures on various branches of philosophy, and determined to become an Augustinian friar. In the convent he applied closely to the study of divinity, as laid down in the writings of the schoolmen ; but having accidentally met with a ' copy of a Latin bible in the library of the monas¬ tery, he neglected his other studies, and perused it with eagerness and assiduity. He soon became famous for his learning and for his knowledge of the scriptures, and was chosen by Frederic, elector of Saxony, to fill the chair of philosophy, and afterwards that of divi¬ nity, at the university of Wittenberg, He, at the same time, distinguished himself as a pulpit orator, and endeavoured to controvert many erro- 156 neous notions, which had been received in the church and in the schools. The better to qualify himself for his profession, he now also commenced the study of the Greek and Hebrew languages. At this time the pope was in possession of the supreme temporal as well as spiritual power over emperors, kings, and nations. The scandal, in¬ deed, was now so great all over Europe, that the necessity of a religious reformation was generally felt. Luther spoke freely and with great success of the abuses practised by the holy see; and when Leo X. to replenish his coffers, had recourse to the sale of indulgences, Luther determined openly to protest against such a scandalous imposition on his deluded countrymen. The novelty and bold¬ ness of his opinions excited great attention, and his popular and persuasive eloquence made a strong impression on the minds of his hearers. The violent measures adopted against him served but to call forth greater powers than he had yet displayed, an event which might have been foretold from his general character, incapable of submitting tamely to any thing like haughty and arbitrary treatment. Though a simple monk, he treated the pope as his equal, and, protected by Frederic, burnt the bulls of his holiness, who had already delivered the reformer’s writings to the flames. Though aware of the fate of Huss, who, under similar circumstances, and protected by an imperial safe conduct, had been sacrificed at 157 Constance, Luther insisted on going to Worms, against all the entreaties of his friends. “ I am lawfully called,” said he, “ to appear in that city, and thither will I go in the name of the Lord, though as many devils as there are tiles on the houses were there combined against me.” When required by the diet to renounce the opinions which he had hitherto held, he firmly and so¬ lemnly declared that he would neither abandon them, nor change his conduct, unless he were previously convinced by the word of God, or the dictates of right reason, that his sentiments were erroneous. To this resolution he steadily ad¬ hered, notwithstanding the entreaties and threats which were employed to conquer his firmness of mind. He was permitted to depart in safety, but an excessively severe edict was published in the emperor’s name, and by the authority of the diet, in which he was declared a member cut off from the church, a schismatic, a notorious and obstinate heretic, and deprived of all the privi¬ leges which he enjoyed as a subject of the em¬ pire. The severest punishments were denounced ag^ainst those who should receive, entertain, or countenance him, either by acts of hospitality, by conversation, or writing, and all were required to concur in seizing his person as soon as the term of his safe conduct expired. But Luther, on his return from Worms, was conveyed with the utmost se¬ crecy to the castle of Wartburg, where he lived 158 m in peace, the place of his retreat being carefully concealed. Here it was that he translated a great part of the New Testament into the Ger¬ man language. His active spirit, however, could not long en¬ dure retirement, and without the consent or even the knowledge of his patron and protector Fre¬ derick, he returned to Wittenberg, where he de¬ voted himself particularly to his translation of the Scripture, which was read with avidity and produced incredible effects. He even spoke, and wrote with more freedom than ever. He pub¬ lished on the abolition of bishoprics and bene¬ fices; he also declared against the forced celi¬ bacy of the clergy. A diet, held at Spires, declared as unlawful every change which should be introduced into the doctrine and discipline or worship of the esta¬ blished religion, until agreed to by a general council. Several princes, who were friendly to the reformation, together with the deputies of fourteen imperial cities, when they found that all their arguments and remonstrances made no im¬ pression, entered their solemn protest against this edict of Spires, and, on that account, were called protestants. Another diet was assembled at Augsburg, charged with finding means by which the schism might be ended. The protestant princes em¬ ployed Melancthon as their deputy, who, with a r\ 159 due regard to the opinions of Luther, expressed his sentiments and laid down his doctrine with the greatest perspicuity, and in terras as little offensive to the Roman Catholics as a regard for truth would permit. This declaration of the sen¬ timents of the reformers is known by the name of the Confession of Augsburg. . Luther must be judged by his own conduct, and not by the tales either of his friends or his adversaries. His life shewed him superior to selfish considerations, to honours, and church pre¬ ferments ; he was satisfied with his original pro¬ fessorship in the university and pastorate of the town of Wittenburg, offices to which very mode¬ rate stipends were annexed. He was vehement in all his operations, was very apt to break into impetuosity, and to go to excess. Rash in as¬ serting his opinions, and obstinate in adhering to them, he made no allow’ance for the timidity or the prejudices of others, pouring forth a torrent of invective against any one who ventured to oppose him. Regardless of any distinction of rank, he chastised all adversaries indiscrimi¬ nately with the same rough hand. His bold¬ ness, energy, firmness, and gift of language, were remarkable. All his actions were much more effects of his natural temper than of the manners of the age in which he lived. This pro¬ position will be made abundantly evident by con¬ trasting his behaviour with that of the man whose portrait follows. 160 Pig. 2,-^Philip Melancthon, or Schwarzerde, from a portrait by Alb. Durer. The organization of this head differs widely from that of Luther. It is very narrow above and be¬ hind the ears, and the whole basilar region is very small; almost the whole of the brain, indeed, lies in the forehead and sincipital regions, both of which are exceedingly large. It is the brain of an extraordinary man. The organs of the moral and religious feelings predominate greatly, and will disapprove of all violence, irreverence, and injustice. The forehead betokens a vast and comprehensive understanding. The etisombk a mind the noblest, the most amiable, and the most intellectual that can be conceived. If there be any thing to regret, it is that the organs of the animal powers should have been so small in comparison with those proper to man. Such a head may be called chosen; its only cause of unhappiness is in contemplating the injustice of mankind, and its too eager wishes for their better condition. Melancthon was born at Bretten, in the Pala¬ tinate, in 1495. He received the rudiments of education in his native place, went to the college of Pforzheim, and two years afterwards to Hei¬ delberg, where he made such rapid progress in literature, that before he had completed his four¬ teenth year, he was intrusted with the tuition of 161 the sons of a noble family. He was still very young when Erasmus wrote of him Good God, what hopes may we not entertain of Philip Me- lancthon, who, though as yet very young, and a boy, is equally to be admired for his knowledge in both languages ? What quickness of inven¬ tion! what purity of diction! what powers of memory! what variety of reading! what mo¬ desty and gracefulness of behaviour !” From Heidelberg Melancthon went to Tiibin- gen, attended the different professors of classical and polite learning, the mathematics, philosophy, divinity, law, and even medicine, and before he had attained the age of seventeen, he was created doctor of philosophy. He likewise studied the sacred Scriptures diligently, and always carried a Bible about him. At the age of twenty-three he was appointed professor of the Greek language in the University of Wittenberg. His youth and personal appear¬ ance created unfavourable impressions, but his. inaugural oration not only removed them, but even excited the highest applause and admira¬ tion. He soon contracted a close intimacy and friendship with Luther, and though he approved Luther’s design of delivering theology from the darkness of scholastic jargon, his mildness of temper made him extremely averse to disputation of every description. He, however, rendered 162 a great services to the cause of reformation by his admirable abilities and his great moderation. He was even forced to sustain a conspicuous part in all the principal religious transactions and eccle¬ siastical regulations of that period. For the sake of peace and union, he was naturally inclined to yield, where essentials were not concerned, and always anxious to soften the acrimony of reli¬ gious controversy. It is said that his mother having asked him what she was to believe amidst the disputes which divided the world, he replied, “ Continue to believe and pray as you have hitherto done.” He was humane, gentle, and readily won upon by mild and generous treatment; but when his adversaries made use of imperious and menac¬ ing language, he rose superior to his general meekness of disposition, and showed a spirit of ardour, independence, nay, of intrepidity, looking down with contempt upon the threats of power, and the prospect even of death. The fame of Melancthon, of his great learning, and of his extraordinary moderation and pru¬ dence, spread into foreign countries, and pro¬ cured him invitations from Henry VIII. of Eng¬ land and Francis I. of France, nearly at the same time; but these he refused, and continued in Saxony. His constitution was delicate, but by observing the most rigid temperance, and by endeavouring 163 to dismiss, when he lay down after an early sup¬ per, every thought from his mind that could dis¬ turb his repose, his life was prolonged to a great age, and he was enabled to pursue his studies with an intenseness of application that is almost incredible. He always rose at midnight to his labours. Never was any man more civil and obliging, and more free from jealousy, dissimulation, and envy, than Melancthon; he was humble, modest, disinterested in the extreme ; in a word, he pos¬ sessed wonderful talents, and most noble dispo¬ sitions. His greatest enemies have been forced to acknowledge that the annals of antiquity ex¬ hibit very few worthies who may be compared with him, whether extent of knowledge in things human and divine, or quickness of comprehen¬ sion, and fertility of genius, be regarded. The cause of true Christianity derived more signal advantages, and more effectual support, from Me¬ lancthon, than it received from any of the other doctors of the age. His mildness and' charity, perhaps, carried him too far at times, and led him occasionally to make concessions that might be styled imprudent. He was the sincere worshipper of truth, but he w^as diffident of himself, and sometimes timorous, withourany sufficient reason. On the other hand, his fortitude in defending the right was great. His opinions were so uni- 164 U versally respected, that scarcely any one among the Lutheran doctors ventured to oppose them. He was inferior to Luther in courage and intre¬ pidity, but his equal in piety, and much his su¬ perior in learning, judgment, meekness, and hu¬ manity. He latterly grew tired of his life, and was particularly disgusted with the rage for re¬ ligious controversies, which prevailed universally. PLATE XXXIV. Fig. 1 .—Charles XII., King of Sweden. The head here is higher than it is broad, and is extremely large in the direction of hope, firm¬ ness, and self-esteem; the lateral parts, which are the most prominent, lie immediately above the ears; the organs of secretiveness and cau¬ tiousness are exceedingly small. Th§ forehead is not more than middling, in proportion to the rest, and the perceptive organs, especially individuality, are larger than those of the reflective powers. This is the cerebral organization of an imprudent, proud, and stubborn character; of a sanguine and careless schemer. The will of such a man ought to be subordinate to the laws of the country in which he lives; for if his own inclinations ever become the rule of conduct, the greatest misfor¬ tunes will certainly result to the community. V VJ /’/ A'.OK 165 ^ Charles XII,, from the earliest age, shewed a decidedly martial disposition, great' firmness of mind, carelessness of character, and obstinacy which was not to be overcome by force. When still a child, he was fond of the most violent bodily exercise, and bear-hunting became one of his principal amusements. Armed with a spear, he attacked his.game with so little caution that his life was frequently in jeopardy. The love of glory soon declared itself as a principle and ruling passion of his mind. He resolved to become the Alexander of the north ; his talents, however, were insignificant, and he was then looked upon as a prince of but little promise. The potentates of three neighbouring states, Denmark, Poland, and Russia, thinking to take advantage of his youth and inexperience, and to strip him of a part of his dominions, first aroused his ambitious, haughty, and enterprising spirit. When their designs became apparent, and the Swedish c6imcil was deliBerating, in Charles’s presence, on the measures .proper to be pursued in such an emergency, the young king suddenly rose, and with a decided air, said—“ Gentlemen, I am determined never to engage in an unjust war, and never to end a just one but with the ruin of my enemy. It is my resolution to go, and to attack the first who shall declare himself, and when I have conquered him, I hope the rest will be intimidated.” He now gave up ail kinds of 166 amusement, enforced the strictest economy in his household, and seriously prepared himself to play the hero. He renounced female society for ever, and also made the resolution never again to taste wine. The king of Denmark was the first to com¬ mence hostilities; Charles at once determined to march in person, and to attack Copenhagen. He, therefore, disembarked his troops a few miles from that capital, he, himself, sword in hand, leaping into the water the moment his boat touched the strand, followed by his guards and chief officers. Advancing amidst a shower of musket balls, he asked a general who stood by him, “ What that whistling was, which sounded so strangely in his ears.”—“ It is the noise of the bullets shot at your majesty,” replied the general, “ This then,” said the king, “ shall henceforth be my music.” The Danish entrench¬ ments were soon forced, and the king approached Copenhagen without further opposition. The Swedish army, lying before the capital of Den¬ mark, was kept in the strictest discipline, and all the provisions with which it was supplied were paid for with perfect good faith. Prayers were said regularly twice a day in the camp, at which Charles always attended devoutly. The king of Denmark, seeing the Swedes in the heart of his dominions, and his capital in imminent danger, was glad to listen to terms of accommodation, 167 and the Swedish hero of eighteen finished his first war in less than six weeks. Charles now advanced against the Russian forces, and with only eight thousand men attacked and discomfited an army of eighty thousand. When he arrived before the Russian entrenched camp, defended by a hundred and fifty brass can¬ non and the bulk of the army, he without hesita¬ tion led on his chosen band, and, after a combat of three hours, carried the entrenchments at every point, with dreadful slaughter. The Swedes took many times their own number of prisoners, be¬ sides the whole of the enemy’s artillery. Charles had two horses killed under him, and when he mounted the third, he said gaily: “ These people make me take exercise.” He dismissed the pri¬ soners, as it was impossible for him to guard them; he only detained the principal officers, whom he treated with the utmost generosity. In general, Charles was admired for his personal courage, his discipline, moderation, and humanity. The following year he went to Livonia, defeated the Poles and Saxons in several battles, and brought the former to the determination of depos¬ ing their king. The object which now occupied all his thoughts was to take signal vengeance on his enemy the Czar, Peter I., then at Grodno in Lithuania. Charles, in the depth of winter, marched against him, and drove the Russians across the Dnieper. Peter 1. becoming seriously 168 alarmed for his empire, caused some proposals of peace to be made, to which Charles only replied, “ I will treat with the czar at Moscow.” The king of Sweden had arrived, in October, 1708, within a hundred leagues of Moscow, when impassable roads and want of provisions induced him suddenly to turn aside into the Ukraine. In the following spring he was attacked by Peter. Going, on one occasion, to reconnoitre, Charles received a musket-shot in the heel, which fractured the bone. No change in his countenance betrayed the acci¬ dent to his attendants, and he continued six hours more on horseback, giving his orders with the greatest tranquillity. At last the pain became so excessive, that it was necessary to lift him from his horse, and carry him to his tent. Such was the aspect of his wound, that the surgeons were of opinion that the leg must be amputated. One of them, however, promised to save it by means of deep incisions. “ Cut away boldly, then,” said the king, immediately holding out his leg. During the operation he himself kept the limb steady with both hands, looking on like an indifferent spectator. Meantime the czar was advancing, and Charles, without calling a council of war, ordered a general attack for the next day, and then went to sleep. He caused himself to be carried in a litter at the head of his infantry. The two horses of his litter were soon killed, two others 169 met the same fate. The king was then carried by his life-guards, of whom twenty-one out of twenty-four were destroyed. The Swedes began to give way on all sides, their principal officers were killed or made prisoners, and their camp before Pultowa was at length forced. In this ex¬ tremity Charles still refused to fly. He, however, was placed on horseback, notwithstanding the cruel pain of his wounds, and surrounded with about five hundred horse, conveyed safe through the Russian army. Having reached the baggage, he was put into a coach, and his flight continued towards the Dnieper. The coach broke down, and he had again to be mounted on horseback. At length, after much hazard and suffering, he reached the river, across which his attendants ferried him in a small boat. The fatal issue of the battle of Pultowa lost Charles his troops, his generals, his ministers, and his treasury; and the unfortunate king became a fugitive among the Turks, by whom he Avas honourably received, and conveyed to Bender. Liberal efforts were, in the course of time, made by the Grand Seignior, to send him home with a large escort and provision for all his wants. Charles, however, refused to go at all, and then the Sultan lost all patience with his stubborn and unreasonable guest, and signed an order to com¬ pel him to depart by force. Charles formed the extragavant resolution of resisting with three 170 hundred Swedes the whole strength of the Otto¬ man Empire, and actually began to fortify his small camp, in the face of a Turkish army. Against this strange resolve all the entreaties of his friends, officers, chaplains, and ministers were unavailing. The camp was of course soon forced, the three hundred Swedes were made prisoners, and the king with his generals rode off to his house, which he had committed to the care of about forty servants. Here he was still as far as ever from any thoughts of yielding. Cannon were brought up without effect; at length fire was set to the roof, which spread to the rest of the building, and nothing seemed to remain for the king but to surrender, or perish in the flames. He had made up his mind to the latter, when one of his guards proposed taking possession of a neighbouring house which had a stone roof. Charles, causing the doors to be opened, rushed out amidst the Turks, with a pistol in each hand, and his sword at his wrist, his principal officers following his example. They were immediately surrounded, and the king, entangled by his spurs, was thrown to the ground and secured. After his furious exertions he now sunk into a state of perfect tranquillity. He was treated with respect and compassion, and honourably escorted, though as a prisoner, to a castle near Adrianople. The senate of Sweden, no longer expecting his return, requested his sister to undertake the re- 171 gency, to accommodate matters with the czar and king of Denmark, and thus put an end to the cruel wars which desolated the country. Charles being informed of the proceedings of the senate, indignantly sent word to them that, if they pre¬ tended to intermeddle in public affairs, he would depute one of his boots to govern them. He grew tired at length of inactivity, and seeing that he had nothing to expect from the Porte, he ex¬ pressed his wishes to return to his own domi¬ nions. Permission was readily obtained for his departure, and he set out, attended by a Turkish escort, to the frontiers of Transylvania. There he acquainted his suite that he should dispense with their further attendance, and directing them to meet him at Stralsund, he took post-horses, and, accompanied only by two officers, travelled during sixteen days and nights. On arriving in Sweden, he found his affairs in a desperate condition. He defended Stralsund with his usual resolution. It was bombarded, and one day a bomb fell on the house where the king was, and burst near his chamber, while he was occu¬ pied in dictating to a secretary, whose pen fell from his hand at the shock. “ What is the mat¬ ter?” said the king. “ The bomb, sire! the bomb!” was all the answer the secretary could make. “ What has the bomb to do with our business,” replied the king; “ go on.” Charles was persuaded to quit Stralsund when 172 no longer tenable, and it was with great difficulty that he escaped on board a Swedish ship. He wintered at Carlscroon, refusing to revisit bis capital. He afterwards endeavoured to re-esta¬ blish James II. upon the throne of England; he then invaded Norway, and was at last killed in visiting the trenches during the siege of Frede- rickshall, at the age of thirty-six years. Charles was a mere soldier ; he had very little knowledge of any kind. In religion he was a thorough fatalist. He was void of fear, and acted so exclusively from his natural dispositions, that his history is his true biography. He was im¬ prudent, haughty, and inflexible, and could not brook opposition. He found his kingdom rich, happy, and powerful, and he left it ruined, wretched, and so totally without defences, that it was obliged to purchase peace with the loss of its most beautiful provinces. No king, indeed, ever consulted the happiness of the people over whom it was his lot to reign less than Charles. His cerebral organization is perfectly in confor¬ mity with every trait in his character. Fig. 2.—Sully. This head is very high, whilst it is at the same time of considerable width.- The organs of con¬ structiveness, secretiveness, and cautiousness are strongly marked; the whole sincipital region is 173 likewise large, and the forehead voluminous, par¬ ticularly the organs of individuality, configuration, size, locality, order, calculation, and of the re¬ flective faculties. Such a brain fits a man to attain excellence in various departments of the arts and sciences. Happy the country whose administration is committed to such a head! There the general welfare will never be neglected, —and fortunate the king who selects men with such a brain as Sully’s for his councillors ! The glory of his reign will be lasting. Sully was born of an illustrious family, and educated in the reformed religion, to which he adhered during his whole life. At the age of eleven he was presented by his father at Ven- dome to the queen and her son Henry. He then went to Paris, and was there pursuing his studies when the horrible massacre of St. Bartholomew’s Day took place. The principal of the college of Burgundy saved him from the fate to which all the Huguenots were destined, by keeping him concealed till it was announced that the execu¬ tions were at an end. Sully then relinquished classical studies, and devoted himself to the ser¬ vice of the king of Navarre. He took lessons in history and mathematics, and applied himself to all the exercises proper for one destined to the profession of arms. When Henry of Navarre put himself at the head of the Huguenot party. Sully entered into the infantry as a volunteer, and in 174 <7 several skirmishes displayed rather more temerity than prudence. Henry, who thought him worthy of his esteem, said to him on this occasion, “ It is not there that I wish you to hazard your life. I prize your courage, but hope to find better occasions for its employment.’* Sully now left the service of the king of Navarre for a time, to accompany the duke of Anjou, who had been invited to accept the sovereignty of the Netherlands. Sully had in view the gaining possession of the property of his family in Flanders, and particularly the reco¬ very of the estates of his maternal grandfather, the viscount of Ghent, who had disinherited him on account of his religion. Finding, however, that he, as well as other protestants, was looked upon with a cold suspicious eye, he returned to the king of Navarre. Henry having occasion for a confidential resident at the court of France, in order to penetrate the designs of the League, cast his eyes on Sully as the person most worthy to be intrusted, and sent him thither. In the war with the League, Henry summoned Sully to give assistance. He joined without hesi¬ tation, and was engaged in various sieges and battles, always acquitting himself with honour. In the battle of Zorg he received five wounds^and being carried on a litter to the king, Henry em¬ braced him tenderly, in the presence of the other officers, and bestowed the warmest praises on his fidelity and bravery. 175 Henry, though lawful king of France, on ac¬ count of the difference of his religious opinions from those of the community at large, found that it would be impossible for him to obtain peaceable possession of the throne without reconciling him¬ self to the Catholic faith. One of his chief objec¬ tions to this step was the fear lest he should be deserted by his old and most faithful friends. Sully, however, consulting Henry’s interest and the welfare of the nation, desired that the measure might be adopted, and he was then employed to negotiate with the Catholic chiefs on the grounds of Henry’s abjuration of Protest¬ antism. The League still continued to oppose Henry, and Sully’s talents were vigorously exercised in his service. He was considered as one of the ablest commanders in the kingdom, for the attack and defence of fortified places. He also made himself especially useful by his skill and integrity in managing financial affairs. He was employed, too, in many important negotiations, of which one of the principal was for the king’s second mar¬ riage with Mary de Medicis. Sully hastened this alliance as much as possible, dreading Henry’s weakness towards his mistress Mademoiselle d’Entragues, to whom he had given a promise of marriage. This promise he put into the hands of Sully, and that faithful friend, deeply affected with the disgrace the king must incur from such 176 a connexion, after pondering a while, tore the writing in pieces. “ Are you mad?” cried Henry. “ Yes, sire,” said Sully, “ I am mad, and I wish I were the only madman in France.” As soon after as he could gain a hearing, he laid before the king all the reasons to convince him of his extreme imprudence in the step he meant to take. The spirit of Sully’s administration was that of order, regularity, and economy, joined with so¬ briety of manners. He was the decided enemy of luxury of all kinds, and therefore did not encou¬ rage the inti'oduction of those arts and manufac¬ tures which minister to refinement. Agriculture, in his opinion, was the basis of national prosperity, and he wished to see the great mass of the com¬ munity employed in its operations. It was his desire that taxes should bear exclusively upon luxuries, and, if they were to be made to act as sumptuary laws, and thus bring men back to their ancient frugality, he thought it would be much better for the nation. Within ten years he paid the crown debts of two hundred millions, and accumulated a surplus of thirty millions, raising less money by taxation, all the while, than had been done before his administration. Prior to his ministry, the gover¬ nors of provinces and powerful nobles were in the habit of levying taxes for their private advan¬ tage, sometimes on their own authority, and fre¬ quently by virtue of edicts which they had 177 obtained through court interest. Sully suppressed these abuses, and had to encounter not only the intrigues and machinations of the persons imme¬ diately interested, but the facility of the monarch himself, always disposed to comply with the requests of his favourites and mistresses. On one occasion the king’s mistress d’Entragues said haughtily to Sully; “ To whom would you have the king grant favours, if not to his relations, cour¬ tiers, and mistresses ?” “ Madame,” replied he, “ you would be in the right, if his majesty took the money out of his own purse; but is it reason¬ able that he should take it from those of the traders, the artisans, the labourers and peasants ? These people, who maintain him, and all of us, find one master sufficient, and have no need of so many courtiers, princes, and mistresses,” Sully, of whose integrity the king was fully convinced, relieved him greatly when assailed by improper requests; he could always throw the refusal upon one who had no reluctance to undergo the odium, provided the good of the state were con¬ sulted. Sully was very active and very temperate. His table was simple and frugal; and when reproached with its plainness, he replied with Socrates, that if his guests were wise, they would be satisfied ; if not, he did not wish their company. Though far from being a bigot, he was firm to N u his own religious creed; interest had not induced him to change it, and it was not likely that any other motive would do so. The pope once wrote him a letter, beginning with an eulogy on his administration, and expressing a wish, at the Conclusion, that he would enter into the right path. In his reply. Sully said, that, on his part, he would not cease to pray for his holiness’s conversion. He continued at the head of affairs till the assassination of Henry; but that fatal event put an end to his influence, for he was not a minister for a minority and a female regency. He was dismissed from court, and then lived chiefly in retirement. It is related, that being once sent for by the young king, Louis XIII., to give his advice on some important affair, his gravity and antiquated figure excited the mirth of several of the young courtiers. Sully, who perceived it, turning to the king, said: “ Sire, when your father, of glorious memory, did me the honour to call me to his presence, in order to consult on state affairs, he previously sent away the buf¬ foons.” The talents and the services of Sully to his country were of the highest order; and so was his cerebral organization. A man constituted as he was, will adhere to his duty in every situation, and wish well to the poor as to the rich; at the 179 head of governments the general welfare will be especially cared for; reason and justice will mark all his enactments ; the majority will always feel inclined to obey such a superior; all will be per¬ mitted to enjoy their independence and personal dignity, and be secured in perfect equality before the law: opposition, therefore, will be only indi¬ vidual ; the mass will be happy as members of one and the same family. 180 GENERAL REFLECTIONS. Examples under each of the foregoing chapters might be greatly multiplied; many additional chapters too might be introduced. Those, how¬ ever, that are given will enable the reader to un¬ derstand nature, and the fixity of her proceed¬ ings, which are constant, and always exhibit the same effects under similar circumstances. The list of words which designate determinate charac¬ ters is very extensive. It very seldom happens that single powers constitute the predominant cha¬ racter ; the mutual influence of several of the fun¬ damental faculties of the mind is almost always perceptible. Amativeness, whilst it is the basis of every amorous character, is modified in its mode of seeking satisfaction by its combination with different other powers. Amativeness, in union with strong moral and religious feelings, will dispose to early marriage; the individual thus endowed may see one wife after another sink into the grave, but after the loss of each he will soon take .another, and always comport himself according to the laws of propriety. But amative¬ ness, without much of the former feelings, will be apt to lead to libertinage. Attachment is the primary element of affec¬ tion, but all are particularly attached to those in 181 whose society their other faculties are satisfied. The blackguard and drunkard avoid the company of moral characters, they prefer that of their like. The relig ious man sympathises with others possessed of the same feelings; the just man with others who are just; the reasonable being with those endowed with reason. It is, therefore, proverbially said, that like draws to like. At-, tachment, combined with amativeness, is fond of female society; attachment with philoprogeni' tiveness is pleased with the presence of children. The disposition to seek society is as various as are the unions of attachment with the other powers of the mind ; fondness for society at large is greatly increased by love of approbation and the other faculties, which find their gratification by display. Combative ness is the essence of all courage ; it, however, disposes to bravery or to conten- tion in different directions, according to its com* binations with other active faculties. It may lead to fighting in order to gratify amativeness, philoprogenitiveness, attachment, acquisitiveness, approbativeness, or self-esteem. Combined with the religious feelings, destructiveness, self-esteem, and firmness, it has made men speak of holy wars. In this way each affective faculty must be con¬ sidered in its combinations with various other feelings and intellectual powers, a point quite 182 indispensable, would we understand the nature, or arrive at the essence of each fundamental power of the mind. This is always single, and in its element the same, under every variety of modi¬ fied application. Secretiveness, for instance, is an elementary affective faculty of the mind ; but it appears under many and various modifications, such as in persons styled subtle, dissembling, sly, artful, cunning, intriguing, lying, or hypocriti-' cal. Wherever concealment appears, secretive¬ ness is active; the actor who would perform the part of a cunning hypocritical man, and the painter who would embody such a character upon his canvass, therefore, require this power; without it their efforts, however successful in other direc¬ tions, will never be else than abortions in this. Characters are commonly divided into good and bad : that is to say, superior activity of the powers proper to man constitutes the good, whilst predominating energy of the merely ani¬ mal nature composes the bad character. To assist those who are entering on the study of phrenology, or who, already acquainted with] the fundamental powers, desire to learn the influence of their com¬ binations, I shall give the elements of a number of characters, according to their common desig¬ nations, in alphabetical order. Those which I shall draw up may be strengthened or weak¬ ened by the addition or absence of certain fa¬ culties ; and the reader must remember, that the 183 combinations of thirty-five powers are numerous beyond conception; this, indeed, is a study which may be extended indefinitely; my aim will be answered if I succeed in showing the young phrenologist how he must proceed in cal¬ culating the combinations of the faculties. Affable. Individuality, eventuality, language, benevolence, love of approbation, secretiveness, acquisitive¬ ness, courage, and not too much cautiousness, self-esteem, and causality. Amiable. Benevolence, veneration, conscientiousness, love of approbation and attachment; it increases by individuality, eventuality, melody, imitation, ama¬ tiveness ; and by the absence of combativeness, destructiveness, and self-esteem. Ambiguous. Secretiveness, acquisitiveness, cautiousness, com¬ bativeness, and approbativeness, with little con¬ scientiousness, firmness, and self-esteem. Audacious. Combativeness, destructiveness, self-esteem, firm¬ ness, hope, ideality, increased by deficient cau¬ tiousness, conscientiousness, veneration, and be¬ nevolence. Austere. Firmness, conscientiousness, self-esteem, cautious- 184 ness, comparison, causality, destructiveness, com¬ bativeness, ideality, with defective imitation, mirthfulness, and benevolence. Avaricious. Acquisitiveness, cautiousness, order, and secretive¬ ness, with moderate benevolence and conscien¬ tiousness. Booby. A small or very inactive brain, where benevolence and approbativeness are the most powerful or¬ gans. Brutal. Combativeness, destructiveness, self-esteem, firm¬ ness, acquisitiveness, without benevolence, vene¬ ration, conscientiousness, approbativeness, and at¬ tachment. Caballist. Secretiveness, acquisitiveness, self-esteem, ap¬ probativeness, combativeness, with less cautious¬ ness, conscientiousness, veneration, and benevo¬ lence. Calumniator. Acquisitiveness, approbativeness, self-esteem, firmness, secretiveness, increased by eventuality, and language, without conscientiousness, bene¬ volence, veneration, cautiousness, and reflection. Capricious. Self-esteem, firmness, approbativeness, ideality. 1 185 with deficient conscientiousness, benevolence, cautiousness, and reflective faculties, increased by acquisitiveness and combativeness. Comic. Mirthfulness and imitation; it increases by me¬ lody, hope, eventuality, and by little cautious¬ ness. This character may be combined with inferior and superior feelings. Communicative. Benevolence, veneration, hope, attachment, ap- probativeness, eventuality, language, with little secretiveness, acquisitiveness, self-esteem, and firmness. Conspirator. Self-esteem, firmness, combativeness, destructive¬ ness, secretivenes.s, hope, and less cautiousness. The aim depends on the superior or inferior faculties; conscientiousness, and benevolence, or acquisitiveness and self-esteem may guide. Corruptible. Acquisitiveness, secretiveness, with less cautious¬ ness and self-esteem, and defective conscien¬ tiousness, veneration, and benevolence ; the basi¬ lar and lateral regions larger than the sincipital and frontal. Credulous. Marvellousness, hope, veneration, conscientious^ u 186 ness, eventuality, with moderate cautiousness, secretiveness, approbativeness, and reflection; it may increase by self-esteem, and acquisitiveness. Decent. Approbativeness, cautiousness, conscientiousness, self-esteem, firmness, benevolence, and the basi¬ lar region moderate. Di^ident. Secretiveness and cautiousness, with less com¬ bativeness, self-esteem, and firmness, increased by reflection. Discreet. Great' cautiousness, conscientiousness, benevo¬ lence, veneration, and order, with less self-esteem, and combativeness. Disputative. Firmness, self-esteem, combativeness, approba¬ tiveness, increased by acquisitiveness, secretive¬ ness, and less cautiousness and veneration. Dogmatist. Marvellousness, hope, veneration, cautiousness, conscientiousness, firmness, and self-esteem, in¬ creased by combativeness and destructiveness. Double. Secretiveness, acquisitiveness^ cautiousness, ap- 187 j probativeness, without conscientiousness, venera- b tion, self-esteem, or firmness. [ Eloquent. i;'. Individuality, eventuality, perceptive faculties in i general, language, comparison, casuality, ideality, |\ imitation, firmness, secretiveness, and combative- ness. ’ Extravagant. \ Self-esteem, firmness, approbativeness, ideality, ? hope, without cautiousness, and the reflective fa- b culties, increased by combativeness and destruc- ? tiveness, ■ False. Secretiveness, acquisitiveness, approbativeness, without conscientiousness, veneration, and bene¬ volence, increased by combativeness and self¬ esteem. Flatterer. Approbativeness, secretiveness, acquisitiveness, increased by less conscientiousness, self-esteem, cautiousness, firmness, and causality. ■ Gloomy. ' Cautiousness, firmness, self-esteem, conscien¬ tiousness, and the reflecting faculties, without combativeness, hope, mirthfulness, and imitation. Hypocrite. ■ Secretiveness, acquisitiveness, cautiousness, ap- a 188 probativeness, firmness, without conscientious¬ ness, veneration, and benevolence. Jacobin. Combativeness, destructiveness, secretiveness, ac¬ quisitiveness, self-esteem, firmness, little cautious¬ ness, and defective conscientiousness, veneration, and benevolence. Impertinent. Combativeness, destructiveness, self-esteem, firm¬ ness, acquisitiveness, without cautiousness, ap- probativeness, conscientiousness, veneration, and benevolence. Indiscreet. Acquisitiveness, firmness, self-esteem, combative¬ ness, secretiveness, without cautiousness, order, conscientiousness, and reflexion. Industrious. Acquisitiveness, secretiveness, approbativeness, firmness, cautiousness, the perceptive faculties, order, and activity of the powers. The want of cautiousness and acquisitiveness, and very great conscientiousness, veneration, and benevolence, will prevent the accumulation of great riches. Modest. Cautiousness, the reflecting faculties, benevolence. 189 veneration, conscientiousness, with little self-es¬ teem and combativeness. Noble. Self-esteem, firmness, conscientiousness, venera¬ tion, benevolence, the reflecting powers strong, whilst all animal faculties remain subordinate, particularly amativeness, combativeness, secret¬ iveness, and acquisitiveness. Partial. Acquisitiveness, attachment, secretiveness, ap- probativeness, self-esteem, combativeness, and destructiveness, with deficient benevolence, ve¬ neration, and conscientiousness. Rash. Combativeness, destructiveness, ideality, firm¬ ness, self-esteem, approbativeness, acquisitive¬ ness, without cautiousness, conscientiousness, ve¬ neration, and benevolence. Superstitious. Marvellousness, veneration, hope, ideality, with less comparison and causality. Tyratit. Self-esteem, [firmness, approbativeness, combat¬ iveness, destructiveness, secretiveness, acquisi¬ tiveness, without conscientiousness, veneration, and benevolence. r 190 Unequal. Self-esteem, firmness, approbativeness, ideality, combativeness, and destructiveness, increased by the want of cautiousness, conscientiousness, vene¬ ration, firmness and benevolence. Unpolite. Firmness, self-esteem, combativeness, and de¬ structiveness, without approbativeness, secretive¬ ness, veneration, benevolence, and conscientious¬ ness. Vindictive. Combativeness, destructiveness, self-esteem, firm¬ ness, acquisitiveness, and approbativeness, in¬ creased by the want of benevolence, conscien¬ tiousness, and veneration. Wicked. Acquisitiveness, amativeness, combativeness, de¬ structiveness, self-esteem, firmness, secretive¬ ness, without conscientiousness, veneration, bene¬ volence, ideality, and the religious feelings. 191 Summary View and Conclusion. I began by fixing the attention of my readers on the constitution or temperament of those they would examine according to phrenological prin¬ ciples. I then shewed the difference of confisru- ration of the whole bodies of the two sexes, next of the faces of the sexes, and then of the faces of nations. After having indicated the phrenologi¬ cal mode of considering the cerebral organization, I stated that the heads of the sexes, of nations, and of characters are different. I then gave illus¬ trations of immoral and moral, of religious, inde¬ pendent, proud or haughty, ambitious and vain, humorous, timid, bold, and prudent individuals. I repeat that outlines only of determinate charac¬ ters can be traced; that each is strengthened or weakened by the addition or absence of special powers, and by the different degrees of activity of the faculties composing it, and that the number of characters, and their modifications in regard to quantity and quality, are infinite. THE END. LONDONi PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES, Northuml>erland-rourt. tf-