I IIMi i 'jJSL t'r.GO D Hackee H.S.A. THE LIFE CORRESPONDENCE ANDREW COMBE, M.D., FELLOW OF THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS OF EDINBURGH ; ONE OF THE PHYSICIANS IN ORDINARY, IN SCOTLAND, TO THE QUEEN; AND CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE IMPERIAL AND ROYAL SOCIETY OF PHYSICIANS IN VIENNA. GEORGE COMBE. Res non verba quseso. EDINBURGH: MACLACHLAN AND STEWART ; LONGMAN & CO., AND SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO., LONDON. MDCCCL. Printed by NEILL & Co., Edinburgh. PREFACE. DR COMBE'S Executors were led to desire that a Me- moir of his Life, and a selection from his Letters, should be published, by the hope that they might prove acceptable to medical students and young medical prac- titioners, as supplying them with hints calculated to assist the former in their studies, and the latter in the discharge of their practical duties, to patients, as containing his opinions on a variety of cases of chronic maladies to which general rules are applicable, and of his numerous friends and acquaintances, and that por- tion of the public which knew him through the medium of his books, as exhibiting him in his private capacity as a sou, a brother, and a member of domestic society, and above all, as a patient acting out in his own person, in trying circumstances, and during a long course of years, those principles of hygiene which he taught in his writings, and recommended to general adoption. The reasons which induced the Author of the present work to undertake the duty of preparing it for the press, although standing in the relation of a brother to Dr Combe, were,^r*, that no other person could be found who was in possession of the requisite knowledge IV PREFACE. of his private life, and was at the same time willing and otherwise qualified to execute the task ; and, secondly, that from the copiousness of the materials left, Dr Combe could be rendered, to a great extent, his own biographer. On examining the manuscripts, they were found to be of so miscellaneous a character that they did not admit of arrangement in reference to their subjects : The chronological order, therefore, remained as the only one available, and it has been followed. It is attended with the disadvantages of desultoriness and repetition : but any artificial classification according to topics would have been accompanied by the greater evils of constraint, and also of imperfect development ; for the materials do not consist of essays written in a sys- tematic form, but of familiar letters, in which topics of importance are introduced, and partially discussed, with- out any view to a full elucidation, or, in general, to publication. They possess, however, the freedom and freshness of spontaneous effusion, which is the natural compensation for diffuseness and repetition ; and as Dr Combe was a systematic thinker, they are characterised by a degree of unity of design, and consistency of exe- cution, which preserves them from being a collection of mere heterogeneous thoughts and impressions. It would be difficult to describe the painful anxiety with which the Author of the work proceeded in the execution of his duty. He endeavoured to view the materials in the light in which they might be supposed to appear to liberal and intelligent readers, and reject- ed or admitted them according to his anticipation of PREFACE. V their probable judgments; but possessing no standard of other men's thoughts and feelings adequate to guide him in making a selection on such a principle, he at times became perplexed, and hesitated in his course. To obtain, if possible, some glimpse into the probability of his success or failure, he solicited a number of in- telligent persons, some of them the intimate friends of Dr Combe, and others individuals who had never seen either him or his biographer, to read the first half of the work, and to favour him with their opinions, as a guide to his conduct in preparing the remaining por- tion of the Memoir. The impressions which they com- municated in answer to his appeal were highly instruc- tive to him, and the following condensed abstract of a few of them, may, it is hoped, prove useful also to the reader in preparing him for perusal of the volume. As these communications were not intended for publication, only the substance of them is here presented. A physician in extensive practice in England, ex- pressed himself to the following effect : " Dr Combe's chief characteristics were sagacity, integrity, kindness, prudence, and intellectual activity ; but he was not dis- tinguished as an original thinker, and made no disco- veries in science or medicine. The leading interest of his Life, therefore, in England, will consist in its exhibiting the history of a peculiar mind placed in pe- culiar circumstances ; I mean a mind eminently Scotch, formed under a Scotch education." Another physician, also in extensive practice, said : " Dr Combe belonged to the class of minds which is original in the best sense of the word : He looked di- a2 PREFACE. rectly through all that is artificial, and technical, and routine, in the profession, and never stopped till he reached Nature in her simplicity and power. From that point he started, and laid down rules of practice at once so sound, so clear, and so fruitful, that he is justly entitled to be viewed as an eminent reformer in medical science, as well as an invaluable instructor of the public." A non-professional individual, an entire stranger to Dr Combe, wrote : " One fault of the Life is the mi- nuteness of the details on the subject of Dr Combe's health. All disease ends necessarily in recovery or death, and it is the result only that interests the gene- ral reader. The events of a sick-room are never agree- able, nor are they instructive ; for every case of illness is to a great extent peculiar, and the treatment adopted in one instance cannot serve as a rule of action in an- other." On the same topic another non-professional corre- spondent wrote : " I think you have acted very judi- ciously and beneficially to the public in giving such an ample and intelligible elucidation of the rise and progress of your brother's pulmonary affection. I see that in one of his letters he expresses his convic- tion, that with a reasonable knowledge of the human constitution and the laws of health on the part of his parents and himself, the first attack might have been prevented ; and this lesson may be read and applied by thousands of parents in the present day. After he was involved in it, his efforts in warding off its fatal termi- nation not only teach us a great practical lesson in re- PREFACE. vil gard to our conduct under the influence of disease, but exhibit a beautiful picture of reason, morality, and me- dical skill long triumphing over difficulties that seemed insurmountable. Considering the great number of vic- tims of pulmonary affections in this country, to whom Dr Combe's case must be at once instructive, cheering, and consolatory, I have to thank you sincerely for the pains you have taken to present a faithful record of it in his Life." Another friend expressed himself thus : " I believe the great obstacle to the general success of Dr Combe's Life will be the extent to which it is pervaded by Phre- nology. You are aware that the public in general do not regard these doctrines as having a foundation in na- ture ; and when they see Dr Combe passing his life in defending them, and avowing that he acted on them, a suspicion of the soundness of his judgment will na- turally take possession of the reader's mind, which will probably impair the effect of the many valuable obser- vations which he introduces on other topics. At the same time, I do not see how this evil could have been avoided ; for it is clear that Dr Combe's whole heart and soul were in Phrenology, and that he set a high value on its consequences." In reference to the same subject, another non-pro- fessional and highly intelligent individual writes: '* There is much that will interest general readers in your brother's Life ; but I foresee that its permanent value will depend on the circumstance of Phrenology being generally admitted to be founded on physical facts or not. If it should be received as true science, Vlll PREFACE. then Dr Combe will be esteemed as one of its early and strenuous defenders ; and the influence of his opinions, and the strength of his reputation, will increase in pro- portion as it is studied and valued. On this subject I arn incapable of judging ; but if Phrenology be true, Dr Combe will be more highly appreciated hereafter than he can well be in the present day, when few are in pos- session of adequate knowledge to authorise them to de- cide on this disputed question." The last remark that need be here introduced was : " You have swelled your work occasionally with notices of unknown individuals, with whom Dr Combe was only cursorily or temporarily associated, and who exercised no influence over his conduct or welfare. These had better have been omitted." His biographer begs to urge, in extenuation of this charge, that the individuals referred to had conferred essential benefits on Dr Combe, by acts of kindness ad- ministered to him when he was thrown accidentally in their way, and that in portions of his correspondence which have been withheld from publication as essen- tially private, he expresses himself as so strongly im- pressed by their benevolence, that it would have been unjust to his memory not to have acknowledged it in his Life. The effect of these communications on his biographer, was to convince him that most readers will take their own peculiar feelings and opinions as the standards by which to try those of Dr Combe, and that very different judgments will be pronounced by different individuals on each of the topics here submitted to consideration. PREFACE. IX Acting under this impression, lie followed the dictates of his own understanding, aided by the counsels of the other executors of Dr Combe, in preparing the second half of the volume ; and he now awaits the verdict of the Public on his labours, with the consciousness that he has used his best efforts to discharge the duty which he had undertaken. To prevent erroneous impressions, the reader is re- quested to peruse the paragraph commencing at the bottom of page 406, before reading the letter dated 18th February 1841, printed on page 390, as the former throws light on certain remarks made by Dr Combe in the latter. To avoid the appearance of egotism, the biographer has, throughout, written of himself in the third person, in preference to the first. 45 MELVILLE STREET, EDINBURGH, Itt March 1850. ERRATA. Page 137, line 14, for " indigatori" read indagatori 164, ... 29, for 8 grains of " calomel'' read columba CONTENTS. Dr Combe's birth and parentage, 4. Infancy, 8, 11. Development of his brain, 14. His school education, 11. Apprenticed to a sur- geon, 17, 25. Nearly drowned, 22, 90. Residence with George Combe, and its effects, 24. His remarks on his father's family, 31. His own mental condition in youth, 33, 38, 39, 44. Passes at Surgeons' Hall, 40. Dr Spurzheim's arrival in Edinburgh, effects of, 41. Andrew Combe studies in Paris, 48. Amusements in Paris, 54, 64, 77. His professional prospects, 62. Studies Phrenology, 65. Studies insanity under Esquirol, 68, 72. Death of his mother, 79. Studies midwifery, 82. State of his health, 84, 88, 91, 94, 97, 107, 111, 117, 201* 211, 241, 259, 287, 386, 393, 398, 423, 480, 515. Visits Switzerland and Lombardy, 85. Returns to London, 88, and thence to Edinburgh, 90. First attack of pulmonary disease, 91. Passes the winter of 1820-1 in Italy, 100. Cerebral development of distinguished men described, 113. Passes the winter of 1821-2 in France and Italy, 117. Essay on the effects of injuries of the Brain, 123. His style, 122, 130, 534. His Essay on Phrenology read before the Medical So- ciety, 131. Takes the degree of M.D., 137. His mode of acting in medical practice, 140, 146, 240, 530. Essay on Size as a measure of power, 150. On the exercise of the brain, 159. Influence of disease on religious feelings, 165. On active and passive goodness, 167. On mental cultivation, 169, 176. His observations on the case of Edward Davies, a lunatic, 185. Publishes a work on Mental Derangement, 190. Contributions offered by Dr Combe to the Edinburgh Review, 183, and to the Encyclopaedia Bri- tannica, 195, and both declined. Dr Combe reviews "Aber- crombie on the Intellectual Powers," 195. On the causes of the liberty of nations, 197. Second attack of pulmonary disease, 201. Proceeds to Paris, 205, thence by Marseilles to Naples, 208. His rule as to professional remuneration, 210. Attacked with inflammation of the lungs, 211. Arrives in Rome, 214. Returns to Edinburgh, 217. Goes to London and Paris, 222. Resumes practice, 224. Answers Dr Prichard's objections against Phre- nology, 225. Remarks on spectral illusions, 228. Remarks on i CONTENTS. Lunatic Asylum at Hanwell, 230. Publishes his work on Phy- siology applied to Health and Education, 235. Confidence ob- served in medical practice, 237. Proposes to withdraw from prac- tice, 243. Visit to Coul, 246. Goes to Paris, 251. Returns to Edinburgh, and partially resumes practice, 234. Projects esta- blishing a lunatic asylum, 255. Becomes Physician to the King of the Belgians, 256. Return of pulmonary disease, 259. Resigns his appointment, 260. Remarks on the climate of Brussels, and the situations of the Royal Palaces, 263. Departure from Brus- sels, 265. Visit to Deanston, 267. Revisits Brussels, 269. Stormy voyage home, 271. Dedication of " Physiology" to the King of the Belgians, 272. Origin of his works, and his habits of composition, 274. Publishes " The Physiology of Digestion," 275. His pecuniary resources in 1835-6, 278. His health in 1837, 287. Mode of acting under distressing occurrences, 295. Is appointed a Physician-Extraordinary to the Queen, 333. Re- visits Belgium and the Rhine, 336. Accident to, in a mail-coach, 364. Publishes " A Treatise on the Physiological and Moral Management of Infancy," &c., 366. Danger of shipwreck, 373. Reasons for resigning office as one of the managers of a lunatic asylum, 382. Is attacked with haemoptysis, 386. Death of his sister, Mrs Cox, 387. His prospects of death, 394. His motives in writing his works, 399. His opinions on hereditary descent of constitutional qualities, 402. Influence of Phrenology on his re- ligious opinions, 406. Its advantages in his professional capacity, 409. State of his health in 1841-2, 423. Sails for Madeira, 431. His mode of life there, 433. Returns to England, 455. Se- cond voyage to Madeira, 463. His stay in Madeira, 471. Re- turns to England, via Lisbon, 472. Passes the winter of 1844-5 in Edinburgh, 473. Severe illness in spring 1845, 474. Resi- dence at Helensburgh and Row, 476. Spends the autumn in Edinburgh, 479. State of his health in 1845, 475. Passes the winter 1845-6 in Edinburgh, 480. Visits London and Kingston- on-Thames, 491. Visits Cork, 493. Resides at Dunoon, 499. State of his health in November 1846, 515. Passes the winter of 1846-7 in Edinburgh, 517. Voyage to America, 518. Obser- vations on the Americans, 521. Returns to Liverpool, 524. Pro- ceeds to Scotland, 525. Becomes ill at Crorgie Mill, 526. His death, 527. His character, 530. Report of the post-mortem ex- amination by Dr Scott, 538. Report on the cranium and brain by Dr Handyside, 540. Report on the prepared cranium by Dr James Cox, 541. Estimate of cerebral development, &c., 543. APPENDIX, 549. THE LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE ANDREW COMBE, M.D. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY REMARK:? AXDREW COMBE's PAREXTAGE A>*D BIRTH ACCOUXT OF HIS FATHER'S PLACE OF RESIDENCE ANT) DOMESTIC CIRCUMSTANCES. THE biography of any individual of a lively and active disposition, which should faithfully represent the feel- ings and intellectual qualities that animated him, the circumstances in which he was placed, and the suffer- ings and enjoyments which his conduct evolved, could scarcely fail to prove interesting. It would be a repre- sentation of human nature individualized, and would have an intrinsic value, whether it should relate to a person who had remained obscure, or to one whose in- tellectual efforts had raised him to distinction. But to give it this character, it must be both particular and true. Great obstacles, however, meet the biographer who desires to communicate these two qualities to his work. In many instances, time has dried up the sources of correct information ; in some, it is difficult to separate 2 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. characteristic incidents from unimportant details ; while in others, again, a conventional spirit may prompt him to shrink from the exposure of imperfections and errors in those whom he respected and loved. Dr Combe was conscious that his parents, in common with most persons of the age in which they lived, had, with the best intentions, fallen into several important errors in the moral and physical management of their children, from which he suffered severely. While he acquitted them of all blame, he could not avoid per- ceiving that many of the evils alluded to, arose from causes and circumstances which, by the aid of greater knowledge than they possessed, might have been modi- fied or avoided ; and during his active life, he endea- voured, by diffusing practical information concerning the laws of health, to save others from similar misfor- tunes. In 1841, when he regarded his death as approaching, he, at the request of the author of the present work, wrote a series of letters, with a view to eventual publi- cation, in which he developed his own views and feelings in regard to the circumstances and events of his early life ; and thus his biographer is relieved from a degree of responsibility which might otherwise have attached to him in regard to the publication of details. To the natural qualities of the Scottish people act- ing in an imperfect state of civilisation, may be traced many of the habits and practices which, in that age, pressed severely on the young. The lowland Scotch, descended from a Celtic stock imbued with Teutonic blood, have long been celebrated for a " perfervidum ingenium" or, in phrenological language,* for vigor- ous propensities of Combativeness and Destructiveness, * An explanation of the Phrenological nomenclature will be found in the Appendix, No. I. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 3 which render them bold and energetic iii contending with obstacles, but which also, when not thoroughly disciplined, give them a tendency to harshness and iras- cibility. To these qualities are added strong domestic affections. They possess large organs of Amativeness, Philoprogenitiveness, Adhesiveness, and Concentrative- ness, whence spring an ardent love of home, of kindred, and of offspring. They are endowed also with an ample development of the organs of Acquisitiveness, Cautious- ness, Secretiveness, Self-Esteem, Love of Approbation, and Firmness, which confer on them those quiet, pru- dent, persevering, self-respecting, and self-advancing qualities, for which they are celebrated wherever they are known. They possess, moreover, a large develop- ment of the moral and religious organs, accompanied by a natural seriousness of character, a deep interest in religion, and a strong sense of moral responsibility. Their intellectual organs fit them for all ordinary spheres of enterprise and action. This equable endowment of faculties affords the ele- ments of much good and evil ; and renders the Scotch in a remarkable degree susceptible of improvement by training and education. At the time when Andrew Combe began life, the problem of sustaining these groups of faculties in a state of habitual harmonious action in daily domestic life, had not been generally solved ; nor has this object been, even now, universally accomplished. There prevailed then, and perhaps prevails still, too much sternness, distance, and severity, combined with a strong, genuine, and unwavering, but often latent attachment, in the intercourse between parents and children, and also between children themselves of the same family. The Calvinistic faith of Scotland harmonises in a striking manner with the combination of mental quali- 4 PARENTAGE AND BIRTH. ties now described ; and, where it meets with depth of feeling and of thought, exercises a powerful influence over the habitual conduct of the individual. Although the treatment of the young, now alluded to, is believed to be still common in Scotland,* it is proper to observe, that, in many instances, an increas- ing civilisation has changed the aspect of domestic man- ners, and that improvement rapidly advances. ANDREW COMBE was the fifteenth child and seventh son of George Comb,-f- brewer at Livingston's Yards (a small property lying under the south-west angle of Edinburgh Castle), and of Marion Newton, his wife. As the question of the descent of certain qualities of mind and body from generation to generation is interesting in itself, and still engages the attention of physiologists, it may be allowable to mention a few particulars con- cerning the families to which his parents belonged. Andrew's father was born at Lennymains, a farm in the parish of Cramond, near Edinburgh, on the 7th of February 1745. His progenitors had for generations been tenant-farmers in that district, lying six or seven miles west from Edinburgh ; and one of the descendants farms there still. The family was distinguished for industry, prudence, and integrity. Of the family of Newton nothing is known previous to the year 1688. At that date, Abraham Newton held in lease the farm of Ormiston, in the parish of East * See " Jacobinism in the Nursery," in Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, of 9th August 1845, New Series, vol. iv., p. 81, and in " Se- lect Writings of Robert Chambers," vol. ii., p. 407. f He wrote his name without the final e ; but among the papers which he left, was a lease, dated in 1742, in favour of one of his fore- fathers, in the signature to which the name was spelled Combe. His family readopted the dropt letter. PARENTAGE AND BIRTH. O C alder, and also the estate of Curriehill, in the parish of Currie, both lying from seven to ten miles south- west from Edinburgh. John Newton, his son, suc- ceeded him as tenant of Curriehill ; and afterwards ac- quired the property in fee-simple. His eldest son, Abraham Newton, married Barbara Cunningham ; and of this marriage Marion Newton, the mother of Andrew Combe, was the youngest daughter. Abraham Xewton died on the 29th of September 1791, at the age of 76. The heads of the Newton family, who became pro- prietors of Curriehill, were enrolled as freeholders of the county, nominated Justices of the Peace, and passed into the rank of the smaller gentry of the district ; but they continued to farm their own land, and to associate with both the proprietors and tenants of the neighbour- hood, till the close of their male line in 1838. These facts indicate a hereditary transmission of prudence, industry, and intelligence, with little ambi- tion, through both of the lines of Andrew Combe's proge- nitors ; qualities which appeared strikingly in himself. Such were the descent and circumstances of Andrew Combe's parents. But nature had done more for both of them than adventitious circumstances. George Comb, the father, was six feet two inches in stature, and of a ro- bust frame. Bilious and nervous in temperament, and en- dowed with a large brain, he was of an active and ener- getic character. There is extant a portrait of him, by Shiel, which represents the head as rather small in rela- tion to his size ; but it is incorrect. He could not usually find in the shops a hat large enough for his head, and a block was made on which his hats were formed. The organs of his propensities, except Combativeness, were inferior in size to those of the moral sentiments and in- tellect. His intellectual organs were well developed, but 6 PARENTAGE AND BIRTH. the reflecting region predominated. His education ex- tended only to reading, writing, mensuration, and book- keeping : He never learned either grammar or the art of spelling. In the middle of last century, even the gentry of Scotland were not, in general, better educated. His chief characteristics were Conscientiousness and Be- nevolence, combined with a constitutional temperance, which never forsook him. He felt acutely his own edu- cational deficiencies, and shrunk from writing even a common letter. Several of his letters, however, remain ; and if printed, with corrections in the grammar, spelling, and punctuation, would do him credit, by the propriety of feeling, thought, and expression, by which they are characterised. He was fond of reading in the few inter- vals which his business allowed him ; but his studies were limited almost exclusively to " The Spectator," and works of Calvinistic Divinity. Addison's Saturday papers were his " week-day " delight ; and on Sundays " Boston's Fourfold State," " Marshall's Gospel Mys- tery of Sanctification," and similar works, furnished oc- cupation for his thoughts after the stated services of the Church. His sensitiveness to his own educational im- perfections indicated a mind that possessed considerable native power and sensibility, of the use of which it felt itself deprived through lack of cultivation. Where the mental faculties are feeble or dull, this want is but little felt. Conscientiousness and Benevolence were conspicu- ously manifested in his actions. He was modest and re- tiring, had an abhorrence of debt, and was so kind- hearted that his brewery was the home of several half- witted beings, who lent the labour of their muscles in the rudest kind of work, and whom he paid and sup- ported to his own obvious loss, because nobody else would employ them. PARENTAGE AND BIRTH. 7 Marion Newton, the mother of Andrew Combe, was born at Curriehill on the 18th of June 1757. She was of middle stature, of a nervous and bilious temperament, and full of life and energy. Her head was of an average size, but very favourably proportioned. The percep- tive organs predominated slightly over the reflecting organs, giving her an eminently practical character : Benevolence, Cautiousness, Conscientiousness, and Firm- ness were largely developed, and in these qualities there was an entire harmony between her and her hus- band. At her marriage, although accomplished in al- most every species of knowledge which constitutes a skilful housewife, she was nearly destitute of scholastic literary education and accomplishments beyond reading, writing, and mental arithmetic. Her educational de- ficiencies arose from the neglect of her parents, who did not appreciate " book-learning ;" for she was re- markably acute in acquiring every kind of knowledge that was presented to her as useful and becoming. She also, as she acquired experience in life, became acutely conscious of the defects of her education, and often la- mented them. On the 28th of October 1775, George Comb and Marion Newton subscribed their marriage-contract at Curriehill. He was then in his 31st, and she in her 19th year; and they were shortly afterwards married. Mrs Comb was remarkable, throughout her whole life, for ceaseless activity. Early and late she was engaged in the discharge of her household duties, and nothing escaped her attention. She was never in a bustle, yet she was quick in action. Clear and methodical in her arrangements, she gave to every process a beginning, a middle, and an end ; and in the evening, she generally contrived to find leisure for needle-work or knitting. She and her husband were kind and attentive to the 8 PARENTAGE AND BIRTH. neighbouring poor, even when economy was severely en- forced on themselves by the pressure of the times. She was the peace-maker in all misunderstandings among the numerous relatives of the family, and was relied on by them for assistance and advice in all cases of serious illness and misfortune. But the constant pressure of the cares of a large fa- mily, precluded the manifestation, on her part, of much of that sympathetic tenderness towards her children which she really felt ; and hence, in their earlier years, many of them never knew the pleasure which a mother's affec- tion sheds over the minds of the young. Her sway was one of general kindness and justice, rather than one of endearment: favouritism was unknown. Andrew, as will be afterwards seen, while he missed the sympathy of maternal tenderness in his childhood, loved and esteemed his mother when he became capable of appre- ciating her excellent qualities, and of making allowance for the circumstances in which she was placed. At the time of his marriage, Andrew's father occu- pied the brewery of Newgrange, situated a short dis- tance from the east end of the Crosscauseway, on the road to Dalkeith. In 1780, the brewery and lands of Livingston's Yards were purchased by him, and thither he immediately removed. Here Andrew Combe was born on the 27th of October 1797. The family subse- quently increased to seventeen children, of whom thirteen survived till 1807. Immediately after birth, Andrew was transferred to the care of Mary Robertson, wife of John Robertsone, tailor in the village of Corstorphin, a woman of extraordinary vigour, liveliness, and practi- cal sense. She was in the prime of life, and Andrew prospered under her care. When he was weaned and was able to walk, she restored him to his parents \ cer- tifying his condition in these emphatic terms : " He HIS FATHER'S PLACE OF RESIDENCE. 9 eats like a raven and sleeps like a dyke," i. ., lies as still as a wall. Mary Robertson reared many children of the middle classes of Edinburgh, besides bringing np a family of her own ; and Andrew Combe continued to respect her, and to shew her kind attentions during his whole life. She survived him a few months. From her practice he drew some of his illustrations on the management of infancy. She spoke pure vernacular Scotch ; but such was the vigour of her faculties, that frequently both her feelings and intellectual conceptions far ex- ceeded the narrow limits of her vocabulary, and she in- vented words, pregnant with force and expression, while she talked. She was so judicious, active, and trust- worthy, that during the incumbency of the Rev. Mr Oliver, as minister of Corstorphine, she was the chief medium through which the relief of the poor of the vil- lage was administered. She died at an advanced age in December 1847, respected by all who knew her. She was greatly attached to Andrew, and followed his rise and progress through life with almost a parent's pride, pleasure, and affection. If the physical and mental character of a nurse exercise any influence over the constitution of her foster-child, Andrew was particu- larly fortunate in being committed to the charge of this lively and energetic woman. The local situation of Livingston's Yards was low, damp, and, in winter, much shaded from the sun ; and the dwelling-house was insufficient to afford comfortable accommodation to the large family which inhabited it. These circumstances affected injuriously the physical health of the children. To complete the picture of domestic life at Living- ston's Yards, it remains only to mention the Sunday's occupations and discipline. The gate of the brewery was 10 HIS FATHER'S PLACE OF RESIDENCE. locked, and all, except the most necessary work, was suspended. The children rose at eight, breakfasted at nine, and were taken to the West Church at eleven. The forenoon's service lasted till one. There was a lunch between one and two. The afternoon's service lasted from two till four. They then dined, and after dinner portions of Psalms and of the Shorter Catechism with the " Proofs" were prescribed to be learned by heart. After these had been repeated, tea was served. Next the children sat round a table and read the Bible aloud, each a verse in turn, till a chapter for every reader had been completed. After this, sermons or other pious works were read till nine o'clock, when supper was served, after which all retired to rest. Jaded and ex- hausted in brain and body as the children were by the performance of heavy tasks at school during six days in the week, these Sundays shone no days of rest to them. INFANCY AXD BOYHOOD. 11 CHAPTER II. AXDKEW COICBE'S L5TFAXCT AXD BOTHOOD. ANDREW COMBE was a lively, active, shrewd, and amusing child, and had a share of droll hnmonr, which manifested itself more in his manner and actions than in his speech. He was extremely shy, rather taciturn, and slow in learning the use of words. When he became fit for school his father selected the nearest schoolmaster who had a fair reputation his name was Brown and he was one of the teachers ap- pointed by the Magistrates of Edinburgh. He kept an English Academy in Frederick Street. Andrew thus describes the teacher and the school. In a letter, dated Edinburgh, 29th December 1841, addressed to his brother George, then in Mannheim on the Rhine, he says, " During the last three weeks I have given you, perhaps, more than enough of and about myself; but as you ask it. and as I have always felt biography and human nature to be most attractive subjects, even when the narrative concerned an anonymous person. I shall not affect modesty, but answer your inquiries as far as I can. " My first teacher was a decent, well-meaning, common-place man Brown in Frederick Street. He was one of the Town's teachers, and taught also in the High Street. I went to him in April or May 1803, and continued with him till 1805, learning nothing but reading and spelling in a very humdrum fashion. Yon may judge of the ele- gance of the English, and of my correctness of ear, when I tell you, that three or four boys used to rise and stand round the table, utter- ing a sound, in a sing-song fashion, which I could interpret into no- thing but ' Sir, my good treacle ;' ' Sir, my good tread*: The result 12 INFANCY AND BOYHOOD. was, sometimes, after two orthree minutes' repetition, a sharpish order, ' Sit down, boys, and be quiet.' More frequently Mr Brown's good- nature prevailed, and a scamper out to the street for a few minutes ensued. Not in the very least suspecting that the cabalistic words were really' Sir, may I go out a little ?' I at last summoned courage to join occasionally in the chorus, and enjoyed greatly the brief period of freedom." Andrew proceeds with his narrative as follows : " In October 1805, I went to the High School under Mr Irvine, who was then just appointed to succeed your former preceptor, Mr Luke Fraser. I continued in his class four years, as usual, generally ranging between the fifteenth and twenty-fifth place, out of about 120. In the fourth year I began a move upwards, and ranged from the se- cond to the fifteenth, but would never go dux. At the examination, I stood either fifth or sixth. Mr Irvine was, upon the whole, a fair, good teacher, without any prominent qualities ; but he communicated nothing except Latin and its routine rules. He gave no incidental information, inspired no ardour, and elicited no feeling. " In October 1809, I moved to the Rector's Class, then under Dr Adam, who soon died ; and in the interval which ensued between his death and the appointment of his successor, we passed under the go- vernment of Mr Luke Fraser, now, however, an altered man. Age had made an impression on him, and he ruled with such a lax and un- steady hand, that disorder and amusement became the order of the day. In a short time one-half of the boys betook themselves to Ar- thur's Seat every alternate day or so, and were never missed. In truth, their progress was in no way thereby impeded. They inhaled health, and enjoyed fun, while those who attended school, of whom I was one, yawned, drawled, and played tricks by turns upon poor old Mr Fraser. " In course of time, Mr Pillans (now Professor of Humanity or Latin in the University) succeeded to the charge of a most mutinous and unbridled pack of boys. He tried a little quiet exhortation at first, but soon ' arming himself,' as he called it, ' with a pair of spec- tacles,' to detect offenders more easily, he assumed a more stern atti- tude, and by the aid of firmness and the ' taws,' at last restored order. I got little good from that session, and was only long enough under Mr Pillans to discover that he was an abler man, and a stricter disci- plinarian, and more of a gentleman withal, than any of my former in- structors. " In October 1810, I entered the College, and attended the classes INFANCY AND BOYHOOD. 13 for Latin and Greek, and I continued the same studies during the ses- sion 1811-12. Professor , whom I attended faithfully, taught me to/or^the Latin faster than the mere lapse of time could account for. This result, real in itself, may have been caused by the drowsy mono- tony which prevailed in the class, by impaired mental activity, and the great rarity of examinations. Attendance, moreover, was so indiffer- ently enforced, that my neighbour on the bench, who was present, in all, only a few days, received a more handsome certificate for regu- larity and progress than I, who never missed a day ! " This was not encouraging. I certainly never spent two sessions with less profit than the two with Professor . No attempt was made to excite enthusiasm or rouse the mind. Dull monotony was the prevailing feature of the hour." " At the Greek class it was very different. Professor was not considered a first-rate Grecian, but he kept us alive and at work ; and if he was not remarkable for elegance of mind, he gave evidence of industry and common sense. He was rather severe in manner, but I liked him as a teacher, and in two sessions learned Greek enough to read Homer with not great difficulty. I had real delight in the beauty of the language, and above all in its nice shades of meaning, which exercised agreeably my powers of discrimination. I had, how- ever, too little of the faculty of Language to be a good or apt linguist. " In 1806 or 1807, I went to old Mr Gray, to learn writing and arithmetic, and, in a few years afterwards, algebra and geometry." Mr Gray had been an able instructor in his day, but by this time had lost much of his energy through ad- vanced years, and his school was falling off. Andrew proceeds in the following words : " Writing and arithmetic I never excelled in. I droned over them for several years. Mathematics I liked pretty well, and advanced fast enough in them ; but being too young to see any use in them, I laid them aside, and speedily forgot all their profundities. A few general notions alone remained to me. Geography was no part of my educa- tion ; and to yourself I am indebted for my first knowledge of French, my stock of which I increased a little by acting as French tutor to our sister Jean. Afterwards, by your advice, Iwas sent one quarter to Mons. Dufresne (then one of the best French teachers in Edinburgh), and another quarter to Dr Gardiner. This completed my preliminary education." This imperfect education, and an entire exclusion 14 INFANCY AND BOYHOOD. from literary and scientific society, promised little for the future development of Andrew's mind. But springs were in action, and an education was in progress, which produced unexpected results. Andrew Combe inherited from his mother a fine tex- ture of body, and an active temperament ; and from his father that element of continued perseverance indi- cated by the bilious temperament. His mother's skin was dark, yet delicate as satin ; her eye bright ; her features regular, and the expression of her countenance harmonious, animated, and pleasing. Her smile be- spoke confidence and affection in strangers. In Andrew these qualities were combined with a brain of full ave- rage size, in which the anterior lobe was large, but the organs of Individuality and Eventuality were minus, while those of Comparison, Causality, and Wit, were plus; the organs of the moral sentiments were all largely developed, Veneration and Benevolence slightly preponderating ; while the organs of the animal propen- sities were rather under than above an average in size in relation to the moral and intellectual. The result was a constant activity of the faculties generally, a na- tural refinement, and a predominant love of the pure, the useful, the beneficent, the beautiful, and the intel- lectual. The inferiority of the observing to the reflect- ing organs, occasioned difficulty in learning details; and for a long time, the reflecting faculties being ill supplied with materials to act on, the intellectual progress was slow. From the large development of the organs of the feelings, and the absence of adequate instruction con- cerning their nature, objects, and spheres of action, and also of proper training, or regular and consistent moral and intellectual discipline, Andrew, like the other chil- dren of the family, was in constant action, but often of a very unprofitable kind. He and his companions, INFANCY AND BOYHOOD. 15 however, educated and trained each other after a fa- shion, by sympathy or practical collision ; and thus early he learned, by experience, to distinguish differences of character and talents, to accommodate himself to va- rious tempers, to control his own, and, in pursuing his own objects and gratifications, to take care that he gave no just cause of offence to his neighbours. From the predominance of reflecting intellect, Con- centrativeness, Secretiveness, and the moral sentiments in him, he was, from an early age, prone to inward re- flection and self-judgment. In manhood he used fre- quently to lament the want of clear and consistent ex- positions of duty, and of a proper moral training. His affective faculties, acting without guidance, produced bashfulness, embarrassment, and awkwardness, in all new and untried situations. Still the springs of a powerful and a high character were there, and only time and favourable circumstances were wanting for their development in corresponding action. In the family circle Andrew Combe heard only ver- nacular Scotch spoken, and the ordinary incidents of life and public news discussed; but there he saw, in his pa- rents, examples of ceaseless activity, quiet endurance of crosses and disappointments, a steady pursuit of the useful and the good, and a positive sacrifice of all en- joyments and considerations at the calls of duty. They did not present to his imitation the polish of genteel life, but he never heard a mean or a vulgar sentiment uttered, a false principle approved of, or a make-believe or affectation tolerated. Family opinion allowed no compromise with truth, no ostentation, no domineering, and no egotism. Among his brothers and sisters there were occasional bursts of passion, sometimes harsh words, and temporary sulks and resentments ; but these were passing ebullitions of feeling that left no traces be- 16 INFANCY AND BOYHOOD. hind. In familiar intercourse with the workmen and their children, Andrew learned to know and respect man in his humblest condition ; and, throughout his life, in his intercourse with individuals of all ranks, his first and highest object of interest was the human being, ir- respective of his station. While his feelings were disciplined in this rough but practical sphere, his intellectual faculties were not left without cultivation. In observing the processes of his fa- ther's trade, he came into contact with Nature, and from his infancy saw the regular evolution of her powers, and how far man could command them, and turn them to his own advantage by acting in accordance with their laws. He became acquainted with objects, with agents, and with causes and consequences ; with the real, as distinguished from the verbal and the conventional. This instruction and training, although rude, imperfect, and unsystematic, was in its character suited to his com- bination of faculties. Had he been trained in a sphere in which conventional manners, literature, and accom- plishments, were chiefly valued, and had he been ex- cluded from the direct observation of nature, he might have been less deeply impressed with the paramount importance of studying natural causation, and less skil- ful in developing the laws of health. It now became necessary that he should choose a pro- fession. His father wished him to study medicine, but left him free to follow the bent of his own inclinations. To the question, " What profession will you choose ?" Andrew returned only one answer, " I'll no be nae- thing." There was such a mixture of the comical and the serious in his manner when giving this response, that the family were puzzled to divine precisely what he meant by it ; and it became a standing joke with his brothers and sisters to repeat the question and to hear INFANCY AND BOYHOOD. 17 him return the answer, " I'll no be naething."' His fa- ther, never doubting that under this humour of expres- sion there was a tacit approval of his selection of medi- cine, proceeded to inquire after a suitable person who should take him as an apprentice (an apprenticeship being an indispensable condition of becoming a member of the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh) ; and soon arranged with Mr Henry Johnston, who had risen into repute as a general medical practitioner in Edin- burgh, that he should receive Andrew under an inden- ture for the usual term of years. At that time Mr Johnston resided in Prince's Street. He did not sell medicines to the public, but, following the then general custom in Edinburgh (which still prevails in England), he kept in his house a store of them, which he dis- pensed to his own patients. The medicine-room was called " the Shop," and there the apprentices compound- ed drugs, which they afterwards delivered at the houses of the sick. The 9th day of April 1812 was fixed for his entry to Mr Johnston's establishment, and he was desired to dress himself for the occasion. His father was pre- pared to accompany him and introduce him. Andrew was sullen, did nothing, and said nothing. His brother George, who was nine years older than himself, and had reached to manhood, still lived in his father's house. He saw with regret this unpleasant state of affairs, and took an earnest and active part in endeavouring to in- duce Andrew to enter on his profession. His father assured Andrew that if he would name any other voca- tion which he preferred, he should not be asked to move one step in the intended career ; but no answer was re- turned. George solicited and obtained his father's so- lemn promise, which was never known to be broken, that if Andrew would make trial of Mr Johnston's esta- 18 INFANCY AND BOYHOOD. blishment for one day, he should not be desired to return if he disliked it. Still no answer was given. As an ap- pointment for ten o'clock had been made with Mr John- ston, and his time was valuable, it became necessary either to resort to compulsion, or to abandon the ar- rangement altogether. It was, however, against all rule in the family to permit evasion of what was re- garded as a duty, merely because the thing to be done was disagreeable ; and as the kindest assurances had been given, and no reason assigned for opposition, force was at last resorted to. An attempt was made to sub- stitute Andrew's best coat and vest for the house-gar- ments in which he was dressed, and he resisted ; but his resistance was overcome. A new consultation was now held as to what was to be done ; and again it was resolved that Andrew should not be allowed to conquer, seeing that he still assigned no reason for his resist- ance. He was, therefore, lifted from the ground ; he refused to stand ; but his father supported one shoulder, George carried the other, and his younger brother James pushed him on behind ; and in this fashion he was carried from the house, through the brewery, and several hundred yards along the high road, before he placed a foot on the ground. His elder brother John, ob- serving what was passing, anxiously inquired, " What's the matter ?" James replied, " We are taking Andrew to the Doctor." " To the Doctor ! what's the matter with him is he ill ?" James, " Oh not at all, we are taking him to make him a doctor." At last An- drew's sense of shame prevailed, and he walked quietly. His father and George accompanied him to Mr John- ston's house. Andrew was introduced and received, and his father left him. George inquired what had passed in Mr Johnston's presence. " Nothing particular," replied his father ; " only my conscience smote me when INFANCY AND BOYHOOD. 19 Mr Johnston ' hoped that Andrew had come quite will- ingly !' I replied, that I had given him a solemn pro- mise that if he did not like the profession after a trial, he should be at liberty to leave it." " Quite right," said Mr Johnston ; and Andrew was conducted to the laboratory. Andrew returned to Mr Johnston's next morning without being asked to do so ; and to the day of his death he was fond of his profession. At first sight this incident may appear homely and harsh, and one which might, with propriety, have been omitted in the present narrative; but, on the other hand, when viewed as an illustration of the mental con- dition and character of Andrew Combe and his father's family, it is not without interest and instruction. The stubborn taciturnity, on Andrew's part, which the occur- rence unfolds, shews how imperfect his mental training hadbeen. His determined resistance indicates a strength of will, which, when more enlightened, became one great element of his success in life ; while the equally reso- lute perseverance of his parents in overcoming his re- sistance, and insisting on his making a trial of his pro- fession, at least for one day, tells in what a school of determination he was reared. His dogged refusal either to enter on his profession, or to give a reason why he declined to do so, appeared to his parents to justify compulsion; but when the following touching letter, written at the distance of nearly thirty years after the occurrence, and giving an account of the real state of his feelings at the time, is read, the scene becomes doubly interesting, as a moral and physiological lesson. In a letter to George, dated 24th December 1841, he says: " I believe I am indebted, in a great measure, to you, for sending me to a liberal profession, as, without your advice, it is more than 20 INFANCY AND BOYHOOD. likely that my father would have put me to some trade. This recalls to mind my ludicrous transference to Mr Henry Johnston's, when I was first ' made a doctor of ' by you and James. I have always af- firmed, but always been laughed at by you and the family for saying, that I really wished and meant to be a doctor, notwithstanding this absurd way of shewing my willingness. Such, however, I now repeat seriously, was the simple truth. For at least two years previously, I looked upon that as my destination, and expected to be sent to a me- dical practitioner sooner or later. I was pleased, too, with the desti- nation. You notice my Wit and Secretiveness as being early predo- minant, and I recollect well that my habitual phrase was, ' I'll no be naething.' This was universally construed to mean, ' I'll be naething.' The true meaning I had in view was, what the words bore, ' I will be something ;' and the clue to the riddle was, that my "Wit was tickled at school by the rule that ' two negatives make an affirmative,' and I was diverted with the mystification their use and literal truth produced in this instance. In no one instance did mortal man or woman hear me say seriously (if ever), ' I'll be naething.' All this is as clear to me as if of yesterday's occurrence, and the double entendre was a source of internal chuckling to me. " You may say, "Why, then, so unwilling to go to Mr Johnston's ? That is a natural question, and touches upon another feature altoge- ther. I was a dour (stubborn) boy, when not taken in the right way, and for a time nothing would then move me. It happened so then. I had been hitherto constantly at classes, and in the preceding sum- mer my vacation had been dedicated to Mr Peter Couper's office.* In spring 1812, I had fever near the end of the College session, and on recovering went back to College, and was thence transferred, with- out any interval, to Mr Johnston's shop. I felt grievously disap- pointed that I was not first allowed two or three weeks at Redheughs,f or somewhere else, to enjoy myself, as I had never been two days from home (after my infancy) in my life, except with the family at sea- * The College vacation lasted from April till November ; and An- drew's father, unwilling to let him go idle during all that time, ob- tained a desk for him in the office of Mr Peter Couper, "Writer to the Signet, with whom his brother George was then acting as a clerk. It is to this circumstance that Andrew here alludes. He used to say that these six months in " the law," young as he was, and incapable of un- derstanding thoroughly what he saw or did, had, nevertheless, left useful impressions on his mind in regard to business habits and priii- A farm near Corstorphine, then and still occupied by his cousin Mr George Comb. ISFASCY ASD BOYHOOD. 21 bathing. I was first disappointed, and then threatened. This, with a considerable feeling of shyness to go to sueh a * grand doetor' as one living in a self-contained house in Prince's Street then seemed in my eyes, was quite enough to rouse my stubbornness. Once committed, I resolved not to yield, and hence the laughable extravaganza which ensued." On reading this explanation, one's compassion is ex- cited for the boy ; yet he does not say that he erer hinted at the real state of his feelings, or expressed a desire to go to the country for a few weeks. Why was he thns reserved ? The reason was simply this, that, partly owing to the manners of the age, and partly to the incessant occupation of his father and mother in their spheres of imperative dnty, little opportunity was left for confiding interchange of sentiment and sympa- thy between the parents and the children ; and, more- over, in the family circle, too little account was taken of feelings, when duty was in question. Andrew, there- fore, probably secretly dreaded that, if he had expressed a wish for relaxation, he might have been charged with an idle disposition ; the very suspicion of which would have been painful to his feelings, and have brought dis- credit on him in the family. Moreover, the father, mo- ther, and children, were all equally unacquainted with the laws of health, and did not understand Andrew's con- dition. Had he explained his feelings, there was so much sound judgment and kind affection in both of his parents, that his wishes would unhesitatingly have been complied with; but, from a dread, on the side of the parents, of spoiling their children by over-indulgence, and the fear, on the children^ part, of being misunder- stood if they complained, an almost insurmountable bar- rier to confidential communication then existed between the two parties. The following letter affords another striking and 22 INFANCY AND BOYHOOD. practical illustration of the injurious consequences of this state of things. " Before I forget," says Andrew, " I may mention two or three occasions on which my life was in danger, although happily I es- caped ; but I imagine that most people have similar escapes in the course of their lives. The first is remarkable chiefly as exhibiting the sad results of the sternness with which we were treated in early life, and the mischief arising from visiting trifling faults with as much severity as greater delinquencies. I could not have been above seven or eight years old, if so much, when I Avas despatched to St Bernard's well (a mineral spring on the brink of the rivulet called the Water of Leith) with a penny in one hand and a bottle in the other, for water. A boy named Inglis, a mere child, .accompanied me. On reaching the place where the mill-stream was conducted along a wooden aqueduct (now replaced by substantial stone), there was no foot-path left, although when the water was low it was easy to pass along on the rock or stones. The water was in flood when I wished to pass, and the usual stepping places being covered, I attempted to walk along where the rock was covered with green slime. My foot slipped, and very gently but irresistibly, I glided into the Water of Leith, and was floated off out of my depth. My companion stood where I had left him, on terra jirma, and screamed lustily, but no one was within hearing. I gave myself up for lost ; but after being carried down perhaps about thirty yards in an oblique direction, I felt myself arrested by a very large stone, against which I struck, and on the top of which I suc- ceeded in scrambling. On the north side of this stone the water was more broken, but much shallower, so that by a good leap, I was en- abled to reach a footing and got out. Being on the wrong side of the stream, I required to cross again, which I effected by walking up to the bridge at the village. " When safely extricated, the fear of returning home drenched, and without either bottle or penny, beset me so forcibly, that although it was a cold, clear, early spring day, I resolved to walk about in the sunshine till my clothes should dry, rather than risk being abused for getting wet. I did so for two or three hours, the half of the time in a shiver. The water was intended for my own use, and when I reach- ed home, it was supposed that I had drunk it, and no questions were asked. Fortunately, my active locomotion prevented me from suffer- ing from the immersion." It is proper to remark that Andrew's apprehensions of his mother's displeasure, described in this letter, INFANCY AND BOYHOOD. 23 arose from the custom of the age, of treating injurious accidents, arising from simple carelessness, with undue severity, as if they had been grave delinquencies ; a practice which has not yet been altogether abandoned. Moreover, the impression which the occurrence made on his mind, inspired him with that earnest solicitude to induce parents to study and act in harmony with the faculties of their children, which communicates such a charm to his writings. 24 RESIDES WITH HIS BROTHER GEORGE. CHAPTER III. ANDREW COMBE (JOES TO RESIDE WITH HIS BROTHER GEORGE IS BOUND APPRENTICE TO MR HENRY JOHNSTON, SURGEON IN EDIN- BURGH MEAGRENESS OF HIS LITERARY ATTAINMENTS AT THIS PE- RIOD. IN the year 1812 Andrew's brother George entered the Society of Writers to the Signet, and became the occupant of a house in No. 11 Bank Street. This, al- though in the Old Town, was a modern house. It stood near the open ground surrounding the Bank of Scotland, commanded an extensive and magnificent view, and was favourably situated for health. With the double object of relieving the crowded home at Livingston's Yards, and passing into more favourable circumstances for studying his profession, Andrew, from this time, be- came an inmate of his brother's house. Their elder sis- ter Jean accompanied them as mistress of the family ; by which arrangement both brothers continued to en- joy domestic female society, an advantage which they highly prized. Andrew has thus recorded his own opinion of this change in his situation in a letter to George, dated 24th December 1841 : " Had our positions been reversed, and I the senior, would the re- sults have been equal ? Very far from it ! Without you to lead me out of the sphere in which I was brought up, and encourage me in think- IS BOUND APPRENTICE TO A SURGEON. 25 ing, it is more than probable that my sense of inferiority and shyness would have kept me down for life. To Grod first, to you next, and to Phrenology in the last place, I have long been sensible that I owe all I have been or done. Your support and influence were, I believe, the sine quibus non of my future advancement and developed powers. To you, consequently, I have ever felt and expressed the greatest gra- titude, and I consider your early adoption of me into your domestic circle, as one of the greatest advantages I ever enjoyed." This testimony is an example of Andrew's modest, grateful, and affectionate disposition ; for he here under- estimates his own powers, and ascribes too much to ad- ventitious circumstances. The members of the family were late in reaching maturity ; and from the predomi- nance in him of the moral and reflecting organs, over those of the propensities and observing intellect, he was long enveloped in the mists of conflicting emotion, and destitute of materials for profitable thought; but, as nature had bestowed on him vigorous capacities, these, sooner or later, would have surmounted all ordinary ob- stacles, and led him to distinction. He lived to repay manifold the obligations which he here acknowledges himself to owe to his brother, by whom this tribute of affection is estimated as a reward beyond all price. Andrew continues the narrative of his early life in the following words : " In the month of May 1812, I was bound apprentice to Mr Henry Johnston, with a promise to be released from the shop at the end of two years ; but I was detained in it three years, and then released only after some unpleasant words, when Mr Johnston said, that rather than have me longer in it, he would exert himself to find a successor for me. This was all that was asked of him, and which he ought to have done from a sense of justice rather than from anger. " We attended at the shop from ten till half-past three o'clock, and from six till eight P.M., waiting on, with, on an average, not above half an hour's occupation daily, except the time spent in the delivery of the prescribed medicines. In summer, we often had nothing whatever to do, and stood, like prisoners, looking through the iron bars of the window (for the shop was on the ground-floor, and was thus secured 26 IS BOUND APPRENTICE TO A SURGEON. as a protection against thieves) at the sunny face of nature, and long- ing to be free. Having no guidance or stimulus to study, and our time being broken in upon at irregular intervals, novel-reading and cards were the only means by which we could get the time spent ; and I must plead guilty to having read a more enormous quantity of trash, during these three years, than I can now bear to think of. The consequences were bad. My moral nature was not perverted ; but, in my haste to follow the story, I got into a rapid and slovenly way of reading, which made it difficult for me afterwards to apply myself to continuous study. I am certain, that my power of sustained attention and profitable reading was thus impaired. The Edinburgh Subscrip- tion Library, to which our father was a subscriber, afforded me a command of novels. Every now and then my conscience troubled me, and I became disgusted with them, and sought out books of solid and useful reading, and also set to work upon such medical works as chance threw in my way. Biography and voyages, I always read with avidity, and whatever represented man or human nature in action, had an attraction for me. " This abuse of novels, I turned to account in after life, and, from experience, was enabled to give such earnest and vivid advice on the subject, to nervous young ladies and others, who suffered under a simi- lar aberration, that I sometimes effected an amount of good which would otherwise have been beyond my power. In some instances, I successfully warned young persons against falling into this error.* " In 1813-14, I attended the lectures of Dr John Barclay on Ana- tomy, and Dr Hope on Chemistry ; but it was not till 1814-15, that I could be said to have begun my studies. Before that time, all was an undefined chaos, which began to assume a definite order and form on the repetition of the same courses in 1814-15." Perhaps some readers of this narrative may be dis- posed to doubt whether the representations of the de- ficiencies in Andrew Combe's early education have not been too highly coloured. It will be recollected, that he had attended the High School for five years, and * To prevent misconception, it should be mentioned, that Dr Combe, in other circumstances, advised individuals to make a temperate use of novels, as a relaxation and variety from more arduous studies. In particular, he more than once gave this counsel to his present bio- grapher. And when himself in a feeble condition, he often enlivened the passing hours in the same manner. HIS EDUCATIONAL ATTAINMENTS. 27 the University of Edinburgh, for Greek and Latin, two sessions ; and the practical result in scholarship, which he had attained, will now be exhibited. In the autumn of 1814, being then nearly seventeen years of age, he had obtained leave of absence, for a short time, from Mr Johnston, and went on a visit to some of his relations in Fife. He wrote to his brother George a letter de- scriptive of his excursion, part of which is here printed verbatim et literatim, as a specimen of the condition of scholarship in which a young man of seventeen, of ear- nest and reflective habits, and of no common abilities, could emerge from a Scotch classical education. It is only justice to the teachers and professors of Edin- burgh, of the present day, to express a thorough con- viction, that such a phenomenon could not now occur, so great have been the improvements introduced into the art of teaching since that date. GLASGOW 15 August 1814. DEAR GEORGE We arrived here on Saturday afternoon after a very pleasant journey, we had a good deal of rain after we left Kir- caldy, and arrived at Mr Arnot's about 4 o'Clock where we were received very kindly, and staid there the whole of Tuesday, we set off for Perth on Wednesday about 10 o'Clock ; at Ahernethy we saw the tower, described in Hall's travels, there is only another like it in Scotland which is at Brechin, John's head ached a good deal after we set oif which was rather disagreable, we slept there all night, and set off on Thursday morning about seven o'Clock to Kinross on the top of the Coach, we arrived there about ^ past 9 then walked on to Fossaway, saw the Rumbling Bridge and got our Dinner, and found ourselves so comfortable that we walked on to Stirling where we ar- rived about 8 o'Clock, and remained till Saturday when we walked to Frankfield. * * * * You was speaking of me going to the East Country before we sett off, but I think that I will get off from Mr Johnston's another week or two about the beginning of Sept r - and I think that it would be as well to wait till then as if I was coming to Edin r - in a day or two to go I might be detained for some days. What would you advise me to do? 2> HIS EDUCATIONAL ATTAUfMEST*. When the style of this letter is contrasted with that which Andrew Combe subsequently acquired, the most iiiliiliial nil ain ! may take courage and pursue self-cul- tivation with the hope of improTement. Andrew's fa- culties were late in attaining maturity, and, moreover. the system of teaching in his day was little calculated to instruct him. At that time many schoolmasters only prescribed tasks to be learned by their pupils, the tnAmv being piifiHBMil by prirate tutors ; and these * schoolmasters limited their own exertions to ascertain- ing whether the lessons had been learned, and to pun- ishing the scholars who failed- Andrew did not receive the assistance of a tutor, and the tasks were gene- rally beyond the reach of his unaided efforts ; hence his poor success is accounted for. It is, therefore, only justice to his teachers to add. that all their scholars were mot so backward as he was. But in his case ano- ther evil existed. The instruction was not adapted to his particular combination of faculties. His preceptors taught him Greek and Latin words and rules, but ne- glected English style and composition. These were supposed to come by nature. Moreover, extremely little of substantive knowledge of things, events, or causes, was communicated; and even when the classic authors xead at the school contained valuable ideas, these were rarely made the subjects of observation or reflection. Words, syntax, and translation were all in al 1. The boys in whom the observing organs were large, and par- ticularly the organ of Language, took an interest in this kind of teaching and profited by it ; but Andrew, who could learn chiefly through the medium of Com- parison and Causality, remained unimproved ; for, in those days, these faculties, particularly that of Causa- lity, had nearly an endless vacation at the High School, and in the Greek and Latin classes of the University. HIS EDUCATIONAL ATTAINMENTS. 29 Andrew's sister Jean, with instruction in English com- position, French, and Italian, excelled him immeasur- ably in literary attainments at this period. Although the foregoing letter contains striking evi- dence of the deficiencies of Andrew's literary education, it affords no criterion of his general intellectual state. His mind had certainly imbibed many solid ideas, and among his familiars his conversation was varied, preg- nant with sound sense and good feeling, and often dis- playing no little wit and humour. The circumstances now mentioned serve to explain the great interest which Andrew took in the subject of edu- cation. In his own case, his parents had spared neither zeal nor expense to give him profitable instruction, and to fit him for a useful and respectable sphere of life ; but, from the causes before mentioned, his time and their money had been expended with very inadequate advantage. Those individuals in whom the observing organs and that of Language predominate, cannot conceive the irk- someness and unprofitableness of an education confined chiefly to words and syntax when administered to boys who are deficient in, or only moderately endowed with, these organs, but in whom those of Comparison and Causality and of the moral sentiments are large and active. The latter communicate a positive craving to learn the real, the true, and the useful, and to under- stand the causes of the phenomena which diversify life. To such minds the ordinary classical academies, as then conducted, were hungry deserts. There is a difference also in the modes by which these two classes of minds gain knowledge. Those in whom the observing organs predominate acquire their information directly by see- ing, hearing, tasting, and touching; which acts are fol- lowed by rapid intuitive perceptions of the qualities of 30 HIS EDUCATIONAL ATTAINMENTS. objects and of the general character of events. Those in whom these organs are deficient, and the reflecting organs predominate, are slow in observing ; and even what they do see and hear makes very little impres- sion on them until it be brought within the range of their reflecting faculties. It becomes necessary, there- fore, in teaching them a rule, if in grammar, to give them a reason for it ; if in arithmetic, to explain on what prin- ciple it is founded ; if in morals, not to rest it on mere authority, but to shew them ivhy the act forbidden is wrong, or that commanded is right ; in teaching them history, to explain the causes and consequences of the events, as well as the moral qualities of the actors. This kind of instruction was too often omitted in the old system of teaching, and hence some boys of profound intellects and fine moral dispositions sat on the benches dreary and desolate, without acquiring ideas or gratifi- cation. They were considered as irretrievably dull, and left the school stupified and demoralized rather than improved. The correctness of this representa- tion is not contradicted by the fact, that of the recorded duxes at the High School of Edinburgh some stand re- gistered in the country's history as men of superior powers ; for these will be found to have had an ample development of certain observing organs which in An- drew were deficient, and also to have enjoyed the aid of private tutors, an advantage which to him was denied. In the High School of Edinburgh instruction in science has recently been added to the classical curriculum; and if this arrangement had existed in Andrew's day, it would have exercised a highly beneficial influence on his mental development. HEALTH AND MORAL CONDITION OF THE FAMILY. 31 CHAPTER IV. THE HEALTH AND MORAL CONDITION OF THE FAMILY, AND ANDREW COMBE'S REMARKS ON THESE SUBJECTS. As already mentioned, George Comb and Marion New- ton had, in all, seyenteen children. Of these, four died in infancy ; and several of the more advanced members of the family were cut off in the bloom of youth or early manhood, from causes alluded to in the next letter. His father, after suffering much severe distress on ac- count of the illness of his eldest son, died suddenly of apoplexy on the 29th of September 1815, in his seventy- first year. During these occurrences Andrew lent his best aid and kindest sympathies to cheer and sustain his rela- tives ; but his medical education was not sufficiently advanced, nor were his faculties sufficiently matured, to enable him to prevent or rectify any of the numerous errors of which they were the victims. When, how- ever, by enlarged knowledge, he became capable of ob- serving the occurrences in their true light, they made an indelible impression on his mind. The vivacity of his moral affections caused him to feel keenly the depri- vation of happiness which his father's family and him- self had sustained in consequence of their want of know- ledge ; and this feeling became a constant excitement to him during life to endeavour to save other families from similar calamities. The following letter was ad- dressed by him to George, in reply to a request that he should furnish his own remarks on those events. 32 HEALTH AND MORAL CONDITION OF THE " The statement you give of the vitiated air in which our parents and the younger members of the family passed the night, and the ne- glect of ventilation of clothes and bedding, to which may be added the neglect of general ablution or bathing where warm water was constantly at hand, sufficiently account for the appearance of scrofu- lous disease and impaired constitutions in us. My book on Infancy shews this in a very clear light. Our parents erred from sheer ig- norance ; but what are we to think of the mechanical and tradesman- like views of a medical man who could see all those causes of disease subsisting, and producing their results for year after year, without its ever occurring to him that it was part of his solemn duty to warn his employers, and try to remedy the evil ? All parties were anxious to cure the disease, but no one sought to remove its causes ; and yet so entirely were these causes within the control of reason and know- ledge, that my conviction has long been complete, that, if we had been properly treated from infancy, we should, even with the constitutions we possessed at birth, have survived in health and active usefulness to a good old age, unless cut off by some acute disease. In my indi- vidual case, I can trace with ease the causes which have combined to impair my stamina and cut short my life ; and almost every one of them could have been avoided with facility, had either our parents possessed the knowledge which I have endeavoured by my writings to convey to other parents, or their medical advisers had a proper sense of their own duties, or of the responsibilities attached to them. Under all disadvantages, I have shewn a tenacity of life which leaves a very strong presumption, that under good management I might have gone through an active life of seventy years." These medical advisers were respectable practitioners, and on a par with most of their brethren in the profes- sion. In those days empiricism reigned supreme, and the family medical adviser did not inquire into, or con- sider the remote or exciting causes of the maladies of his patients, but attacked only the symptoms pre- sented to him. When these were overcome, his task was accomplished. The patients might return to the habits which had given rise to them, unwarned of the consequences. Nature alone was considered to be in fault. Medical skill was her opponent, but not her guide. It was the practice in this family, when " dan- FAMILY AT LIVINGSTONS YARDS. 33 ger" became imminent, to call in the late Dr James Gregory to consultation with the ordinary medical at- tendant; but "danger' was never apprehended till death was approaching, and the patient was beyond receiving aid from human skill. In a letter to George, dated 8th December 1841, An- drew gives the following picture of his own mental con- dition in early life. " I had/" says he, i{ an early and great veneration for moral excel- lence, and after having been cold or sullen in the days of my earliest youth, I have gone to bed and cried for want of moral sympathy, and formed strong resolutions to be for ever after kind and good, no mat- ter how others might treat me. I reproached myself also for my shortcomings in obligingness and active kindness, and felt that if met with affection and confiding regard, I could make any effort or sacri- fice in return, and rejoice in the happiness of doing so. But, as you know, the affections and amenities of life were not cherished among us individually, nearly so much as stern integrity and the omnipo- tent sense of duty. This was from the very best intentions on the part of our excellent parents, and arose much from the oppressive spirit of their Calvinistic principles, and their own want of an enlight- ened education. It was, however, a great evil, and upon me it ope- rated in producing a distrust of myself, from an idea of my unworthi- ness, which led me to rate myself below every other person, and, by increasing my natural shyness, cramped the free expansion of both feeling and intellect at a time when they were craving for gratifica- tion. " In my earliest reading days, I purchased, with one shilling and sixpence of hoarded ' handsels' (Xew-year's gifts), a small volume of moral and very simple plays, in which, of course, goodness prospered and was honoured, and rice was punished and degraded. How I pored over it, and how often I read it with fresh delight, I cannot describe ; but many of my good resolutions owe their origin to its inspirations. I cannot recollect the title, but I think one of the plays was the Farmer Boy. " Amidst all this sympathy, however, with affection and goodness, it never once occurred to me that I could ever be the means of influ- encing others to good. If I could only succeed in being good myself, and in venerating good in others, and pleasing God, I considered my utmost aims fulfilled. So far from ever hoping for distinction or fame, C 34 ANDREW COMBE'S MENTAL CONDITION. I used to fancy myself living in some quiet, retired corner, in happy removal from the cares, struggles, and wickedness of the world. " The world then always presented itself to me in the characters described by the Rev. David Dickson (afterwards D.D.), with such fervour and reiteration, as the abode of nothing but the blackest sin and misery. I shrunk from contact with it, even in thought ; and be- lieving myself equally, or rather more in danger of hell-fire than all the rest, I looked upon retirement from the world as affording the only chance of escape from the dangers of eternal perdition. " This was my state of mind from my earliest consciousness, and it continued for years to depress and cramp my energies. I never could fancy myself good enough to be of use in the world ; and instead of aspiring to greatness, I have a vivid recollection of often looking at Dr Dickson * in the pulpit, and thinking, ' Oh, if I only was clever enough to be a minister, I would be sure to be saved.' This must have begun before I was five years old. But I felt a woful conscious- ness that I could never learn to preach, and there was thus no hope for me in that quarter. Then it occurred to me, that even a precentor was almost sure to be saved, as a ' church ' man ; but then I was equally conscious that singing was as impossible as preaching to me. " In this hopeful state I well recollect standing behind Matthew Aik- man, a mason, when the new kiln was building (I could scarcely have been seven years old then, but I forget the exact date), and at every * The Rev. Dr David Dickson was one of the ministers of St Cuthbert's parish, commonly called the " West Church " of Edinburgh. His personal cha- racter was the opposite of this feature of his preaching. In private life he was kind, indulgent, social, and cheerful, and was respected and beloved by his people. Nevertheless, he considered it his duty to preach the terrors of the law with such unrelenting severity, that his pulpit ministrations produced effects similar to those now described on others of the younger members of his congregation. When clergymen become acquainted with Phrenology, they will understand the relationship between particular doctrines and particular endow- ments of the human faculties, and be better able to judge of the effects which their discourses are producing. The more fully the organs of the moral and intellectual faculties are developed in any individual, and the more thoroughly these are cultivated and directed to their natural objects, the less are stern doc- trines of any kind calculated to benefit him. The sincerity and sensibility ac- companying strong moral and intellectual faculties, lead the young to embrace literally whatever they are taught by those whom they respect ; but if the doc- trines be not in harmony with their nature, they produce painful and injurious effects, and the best constituted minds suffer most severely. Had the moral organs been less developed in Andrew Combe in proportion to those of the animal propensities, he would have listened to these discourses with less dis- agreeable emotions. ANDREW COMBE'S MEXTAL CONDITION. 35 stone he laid down upon another, the intense wish came upon me, ' Oh that I were that stone, to he sure of never living again, and never go- ing to hell !' For days I looked on in this mood. Once, soon after, in a dream, I lay as if upon the declivity of the Castle-bank, and be- gan slowly to slide down in spite of every exertion, when to my horror I saw the month of hell, like a deep well full of fire and flames, just below, and the devil with his fork ready to receive me on approaching the brink. As I neared it, the horror was awful, and when my toes reached the edge I awoke in a tremor. I offer no comment on the fitness of doctrines which could induce such a state of mind in a well- disposed child, sighing only for good, and for the power of doing God's will. " About a year or two later, in a very different frame of mind, when pleased, I believe, with having acted on some of my good resolutions, I dreamt that I lay on another part of the slope looking towards the south, and at mid-day ; when suddenly, as I gazed at the sky, the heavens opened, and I saw Jesus sitting at the right hand of God, sur- rounded by angels, and by a splendour which almost dazzled me. and yet all looking down upon me with a benignity of tenderness which moved me to the very soul, and inspired me with the most vivid desire to render myself worthy of the happiness. Even now I cannot help considering these two scenes as strikingly illustrative of the two principles of teach- ing religion. The threatenings of hell-fire terrified and bewildered without improving me. The spirit of Jove from heaven, on the contrary, inspired me with feelings of humble devotion and admiration of moral excellence, which have not yet faded, and which repudiated the very- notion of God being the * avenger,' and of his willingly destroying the creatures he had made." These descriptions are pregnant with instruction. This family father, mother, and children had received from nature moral dispositions and intellectual abilities which left no room to complain of stinted gifts, and they were sincerely anxious to apply their powers in the path of dnty. Bnt their mental condition was one of chaos. Their faculties were active, but in a state of conflict among themselves through want of knowledge; and many of the views of religion and of the world which had been taught to them were in discord with their own highest natural emotions. They were therefore paralysed in action, and suffered. 36 ANDREW COMBE'S MENTAL CONDITION. Andrew continues : " Considering the moral and in- tellectual qualities of the family, and the harmony in which they have always lived, under all the disadvan- tages of wrong or of no moral training, it seems to me clear as noon-day that home might easily have been rendered to them an earthly paradise, had our parents known how to fulfil their own intentions. I have no doubt, however, that we have derived some important advantages from the almost sternness with which we were treated, and our affections repressed." One of these advantages was, that nothing could come amiss to children who had been thus accustomed to suffer self-denial and forego pleasure, and who were trained to consider the fulfilment of duty as the sole object of existence. So little was enjoyment recognised as an allowable aim in life, that when, in the buoyancy of youth, a natural feeling of gratitude, springing from the spontaneous activity of the moral faculties, occasionally led them to give utterance to expressions of satisfaction with the world, their mother would say " Hush do not talk so you do not know how long it may last ! " There seemed to be in her mind so strong a conviction that this was a world of woe, that she regarded a feel- ing of enjoyment as sinful, and as indicative of some- thing wrong in the religious condition of the individual. At the same time she was naturally cheerful, contented, and amiable ; and it was only when the cheerfulness of her family vented itself in religious gratitude, that she became alarmed. Her husband participated in her re- ligious opinions so far as his natural qualities allowed him to do so ; but in his latter days he did not scruple to express his dissent from several points in the Cal- vinistic creed, "just because he could not believe them." He doubted, for example, the perdition of the heathen to whom the gospel had never been preached, and of ANDREW COMBE'S MENTAL CONDITION. 37 unbaptised infants ; he had also great difficulties with the doctrine of election, and the predestination of some individuals to eternal punishment ; and he was far from being convinced of the endless duration of hell- fire.* When charged with inconsistency for doubting on these points, he used to say, " It may be very wrong, but I cannot help it." This shewed that the internal moral and religious struggles which had distressed his son were not unknown to himself; but he also had so humble an idea of his own powers of judgment, that he never ventured to modify, by his own convictions, the * The doctrines stated in the text are rejected by some, and much modified by other enlightened writers on Calvinistic Theology of the pre- sent day ; but the Standards of the Church of Scotland, in which the Combes were educated, remain unchanged. The answer to Question 19 of " The Shorter Catechism," is, " All mankind by their fall lost com- munion with God, are under his wrath and curse, and so made liable to all the miseries of this life, to death itself, and to the pains of hell for ever." " Q. 20. Did God leave all mankind to perish in the estate of sin and misery ? " A. God having, out of his mere good pleasure, from all eternity, elected some to everlasting life, did enter into a covenant of grace to de- liver them out of the estate of sin and misery, and to bring them into a state of salvation by a Redeemer." In the Larger Catechism, the 68th Question is thus stated : " Are the elect only effectually called? " A. All the elect, and they only, are effectually called,'' &c. " Q. 60. Can they who have never heard the gospel, and so know not Jesus Christ, nor believe in him, be saved by their living according to the light of nature ? " A. They who, having never heard the gospel, know not Jesus Christ, and believe not in him, cannot be saved, be they never so diligent to frame their lives according to the light of nature, or the laws of that re- ligion which they profess," &c. " Q. 29. What are the punishments of sin in the world to come ? " A. The punishments of sin in the world to come, are, everlasting separation from the comfortable presence of God, and most grievous tor- ments in soul and body, without intermission, in hell-fire for ever." The doctrine of the perdition of unbaptized infants does not appear in the Standards of the Church, but it was taught by some of the evangeli- cal divines of Scotland in the last century, and is still practically believed by many of the Scotch people, who, when an infant becomes seriously in- disposed, send for the minister to baptize it, with as much earnestness as for the physician to cure it. 38 ANDREW COMBE'S MENTAL CONDITION. faith taught in the church, lest he should be wrong, and lead his children into error. It was only after they had attained to maturity, and had mustered courage to break through the trammels of authority, and think for themselves, that he candidly acknowledged to the elder branches of them the state of his own mind. Are there not thousands of parents in Great Bri- tain and Ireland at this moment timidly concealing their own convictions of truth from their children, out of seeming deference to authorities which they no longer respect ? And are there not thousands of child- ren suffering agonies of mental distress, which a few candid sentences spoken by their parents would remove ? Parents shrink from the responsibility of leading their children into possible error, by countenancing in them any disregard of established authorities ; but do they incur no responsibility in deliberately teaching them, as true, views which they themselves no longer believe ? It may be remarked, however, that the doctrines alluded to do not produce the same effects on all minds. There is a combination of faculties to which they are agreeable, and it is through the influence of this class that they are maintained in authority. The continuation of Andrew's narrative shews that benevolence and humanity were in him indigenous qua- lities : " Before I forget." says he, " I may mention here a strong feature of my mind the aversion I have ever felt to contention and fighting, both physical and moral, and which sometimes made me unduly averse to argument and controversy, where perhaps I ought rather to have sought than shunned them. Mere physical infirmity had something to do with this, although its chief cause was the constitution of my mind. As a boy, I never fought a battle, or had a regular downright quarrel ; nor did I like to witness them, although they were often enough going on among my companions. You may remember the great dislike I had to be a soldier, and the amusement our brother John (who was one of the 1st regiment of Edinburgh Volunteers) used ANDREW COMBE'S MENTAL CONDITION. 39 to have in trying to enlist me by forcing a shilling into my hand in the King's name. Although possessed of little money, and having at the time a profound sense of the value of a penny, I would never take the shilling, even in jest. How I might have behaved in battle, had I ever been forced into one, I cannot tell ; but even in my dreams, my dislike to taking a part in warfare was as active and uniform as dur- ing my waking hours. I disliked also, to the last, being present at or having any concern with surgical operations, or the dressing of wounds ; and yet had a consciousness that, under an absolute necessity, I could go through an amputation, for example, with self-possession and cor- rectness. Even common bloodletting was very disagreeable to me. I do not think that my aversion to fighting was altogether from a fear of being killed. I could have no fear of that kind in boyish battles, and, moreover, on several occasions when I believed my life in imme- diate danger, I retained complete self-possession, and my mind was quickened rather than confused in its perceptions. I have always had the feeling too, that if compelled to fight a duel, I could never bring myself to fire at my adversary. I certainly, however, should have made a ' shocking bad ' soldier ; and I thank Heaven I never was re- quired to try whether discretion is really the better part of valour." The phrenologist will find a simple explanation of these facts by comparing the size of the organs of De- stmctiveness, as shewn by the cast of Andrew's brain,* with that of the organs of the moral sentiments. In him the former is moderately developed in comparison with the latter. The organs of Combativeness, how- ever, were larger than those of Destructiveness ; and these, when aided by his moral and intellectual convic- tions, and supported by his Self-Esteem and Firmness, enabled him to act with vigour in repelling any inva- sion of what he considered his just rights, and also firmly to oppose conduct which he regarded as unprin- cipled and injurious to others, from whomsoever it pro- ceeded. * A description of his brain, and the development of the cerebral organs, will be given in the last chapter of this work. Casts of the skull and brain already form parts of several Phrenological Collec- tions. 40 CONTINUES HIS STUDIES. CHAPTER V. ANDREW COMBE CONTINUES HIS STUDIES TAKES A DIPLOMA FROM THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF SURGEONS OF EDINBURGH AFTERWARDS PRO- CEEDS TO PARIS, AND CONTINUES HIS MEDICAL STUDIES. ANDREW COMBE'S description of the manner in which he passed the years of his medical apprenticeship, has already been given on p. 26. To the facts there stated, however, it must be added, that towards the end of his apprenticeship he did see a little practice, particular- ly in the workhouse of St Cuthbert's parish, of which Mr Johnston was the medical attendant. But it was to the medical classes and attendance at the public hospital, that he was chiefly indebted for his professional educa- tion ; and from experience, as well as from subsequent observation and reflection, he was ever afterwards averse to the apprenticeship system. His own narrative pro- ceeds thus : " On 4th February 1817, I passed at Surgeons' Hall, at what I then fancied rather a late age, 19 years. But I became afterwards convinced, that it would have been better for me had I then been only beginning my professional studies. In my correspondence on medical education with Sir James Clark in 1838, when the London University was established, I entered fully into this subject, and need not do so here, as I must, as much as possible, avoid writing. I can- not, however, refrain from repeating my deep and abiding sense of the wide-spread injury inflicted on the profession and on society, by the compulsory attendance on incapable and superannuated professors, who, in mercy to themselves and to mankind, should be respectfully COKTmUES HIS STUDIES. 41 set aside, when they have not the good sense to resign after their ef- ficiency is gone." During the currency of Andrew's apprenticeship, an event occurred which exercised an important influence over his subsequent life. It was the arrival of Dr Spurzheim in Edinburgh. In the beginning of the present century, metaphysics were still ardently studied by the young men attending the Scottish universities. Dugald Stewart was then in the full blaze of his fame. Magniloquent in style, liberal in sentiment, and apparently ambitious to combine in his own person the moral grandeur of Socrates with the intellectual acumen of Aristotle and Bacon, he, by his lectures and published works, threw a kind of halo round t; the philosophy of mind," which dazzled and capti- vated the young. His method of investigation seemed so truly Baconian, and the objects pursued were so digni- fied and useful, that it was regarded as scientific heresy to doubt the splendour of his genius, or the practical value of his labours. Andrew's brother, George, had long been one of Mr Stewart's admirers. It was true, that although he had carefully studied every page of his metaphysical works, discussed the subjects of them, chapter by chap- ter, in a small debating society, which met weekly in the University, and of which he was a member, and had extended his studies into the works of Hutcheson, Reid, Adam Smith, and other luminaries in mental science, yet he had found extremely little that could be practi- cally applied in elucidation of the phenomena of life, or in the guidance of the understanding in the arena of busi- ness. Nevertheless, he " believed" in Dugald Stewart; and looked forward with unshaken confidence to great practical results being ultimately evolved, when the mighty labours and profound investigations of that 42 CONTINUES HIS STUDIES. distinguished philosopher should have reached their na- tural termination. These expectations were kept alive by Mr Stewart's magnificent promises of something im- portant that was yet to be unfolded. George endea- voured to apply the doctrines with which he had thus become acquainted, in enlightening and expanding An- drew's mind, and tried to inspire him with a becoming love of mental science with what success will imme- diately be seen. If the truth must be told, the blind was simply attempting, to the best of his ability, to lead the blind. All that Greorge had learned from his me- taphysical studies, had failed to give him a glimpse of the peculiar constitution of Andrew's mind, of his own mind, of the differences between them, of the objects and spheres of activity of the different faculties, of the dependence of mental vigour on nervous health; in short, of any one useful principle which could guide him in his earnest desire to improve Andrew and himself. The following description of Andrew's mental condition, while he and his brother continued under the guidance solely of common sense and of Scotch metaphysics, in their pursuit after moral and intellectual improvement, is given by Andrew in a letter to George : " From the very moderate estimate," says he, " which I so early formed of my own talents and worth, and from the mist in which a large organ of Wonder in my own brain enveloped me, and the man- ner in which it caused me to magnify the merits of all others not in- timately known to me, and from the natural inspirations of an active Cautiousness and Secretiveness, it was not till after I became ac- quainted with Phrenology, and with my own mental constitution, that the possibility of my becoming useful to mankind, or fitted to occupy any except a very quiet station, ever occurred to me. I even shrunk from being conspicuous in any way, in the belief that I could not sus- tain a high position properly. We were so well drilled to humility, by being called ' blockheads' at home, that I never felt encouraged to take a brighter view of my own capabilities. Being nearly the youngest in a numerous family, in which talent was not scarce, and CONTINUES HIS STUDIES. 43 feeling surpassed by my seniors, I gladly stood back to give them room, and imagined that, in the world at large, the background was also my natural position. So far did this go, that when, in the fourth year at the High School, I might repeatedly have been dux, I never would go higher than second, and preferred losing, to being in the conspi- cuous place of dux. Your own ready command of your ideas, and facility of utterance and composition, so different from the difficulty I was conscious of in my mind, increased, sometimes to a painful extent, the sense of inferiority which kept me in the background, and this influence continued operative for many years after I came to live with you. I wished to possess the same powers, but felt that it was not in me. I recollect distinctly a conversation you had on the subject with our cousin, John Sinclair, one day in Bank Street, at dinner, proba- bly in 1814. You expressed your disappointment at my silence in company, and my not engaging in conversation on r general topics, or in writing. John tried to persuade you that it would come ; saying, that I was evidently interested in the conversation of others, &c. I felt mor- tified and distressed, because I was keenly alive to the want, and had very faint hopes of John's prediction being ever verified. With this abiding sense of inferiority in me, the hope of distinction or fame would have been a ludicrous incongruity, which my Causality was even then big enough to perceiTe. " I had, however, glimpses of having more in me than met the eye, and felt that if placed in circumstances of trust, where I must come out and exert myself, away from my friends, who knew me as a ' blockhead,' I should not be found wanting in sense ; but these bright moments were few and far between. One disadvantage, and only one, diminished to some extent the much greater benefits of my residence with you, and it was this : very often, in conversation, the same sentiments, opinions, and arguments, presented themselves to my mind as to yours, upon whatever was said by others ; but before I could find words and ar- rangement for them, you expressed them off-hand so much more clearly and fluently than I could do, that after a time. I got into the habit of thinking to myself, and leaving all the talk to you. Even my power of thinking suffered at length from this, as well as that of expression : for one ceases to think vividly and with precision, when the result is neither uttered nor written. You also were the natural head of the house, and were appealed to, and called upon to speak, while I could indulge my natural indolence by listening. I felt the evil of this so much, that had my health been trustworthy, I should probably have been led to sacrifice the happiness derived from residing with yon, as soon as increased practice would have warranted my taking a house near you. But frail as I was at the best, I felt that the evils of our 44 CONTINUES HIS STUDIES. separation would have more than counterbalanced the probable advan- tages to myself." While Andrew was suffering these disadvantages from his brother's greater maturity of intellect (for at that period of their lives the difference of nine years between their ages made a great difference in their mental de- velopment), he did not communicate his dissatisfaction to his brother, who, on his own part, was so ignorant of practical mental science, that he was unacquainted with the proper method of developing Andrew's latent powers. Indeed, beyond a general impression, that he was a sensible, amiable, and affectionate, although excessively bashful and shy young man, his brother had no know- ledge of the talents which lay hid in him. The time, however, had now come, when both of them acquired clearer views of themselves and of each other. In the 49th Number of the Edinburgh Review, pub- lished in July 1815, a " tremendous article," as it was then styled, appeared against the Physiognomical Sys- tem of Drs Gall and Spurzheim. It was known to be written by Dr John Gordon, an amiable man, and one of the most talented private lecturers on anatomy and physiology in Edinburgh. It excited general attention, and was loudly commended, and by every one believed to be a " settler" of the question. Dr Spurzheim, who happened to be then lecturing in Dublin, no sooner read it, than he resolved to visit Edinburgh, and challenge the reviewer to a public dissection of the brain, and dis- cussion of the subject ; and he speedily fulfilled his re- solution. The meeting between them excited intense interest, and opinion became divided as to the merits of the disputants. Dr Spurzheim also gave a course of popular lectures on his doctrines, which was attended by forty or fifty curious inquirers ; and the subject of CONTINUES HIS STUDIES. 45 " Craniology" was much talked of in the town. George Combe, who then, like many other young men in Edin- burgh, believed in the Edinburgh Review, as in a gospel of political and scientific truth, had read the article, was delighted with it, and joined in the ridicule of Drs Gall and Spurzheim, without considering farther inquiry ne- cessary. Germany was then known in Great Britain chiefly through translations of " The Sorrows of Wer- ter," and the most extravagant and trashy novels of that country. In Edinburgh, men of education re- garded it as the height of combined impudence and ab- surdity, for a " German" to pretend to have made dis- coveries in the anatomy of the brain and nervous system unknown to the great medical teachers of that city, and in mental science unknown to Dugald Stewart, the most eminent of modern philosophers ! The ridicule supposed to be implied in this idea was intense ; it fur- nishes the key to the tone of that now extraordinary article, which daguerreotyped effectually the state of me- dical and metaphysical knowledge concerning the brain and its functions, then possessed by the most accom- plished men of science of the modern Athens.* * This article has had an abiding influence on the scientific, and, probably, as will ultimately be found, on the social and religious condition of the northern metropolis. It led most of the men of emi- nence in Edinburgh, of every profession, to commit themselves warmly and irrevocably against the new philosophy ; and being once committed, their minds were closed against a serious and impartial consideration of the subject. Another effort was made by Lord Jeffrey, in a sarcastic and laboriously reasoned article, published in October 1826, to main- tain the position which the Review had adopted in 1815 ; and the re- sult of these articles and other causes has been, that the University of Edinburgh still ignores most of Dr Gall's discoveries. In the de- partment of philosophy, she glories in teaching logic and moral philo- sophy, without reference to special mental organs ; in the medical chairs, while she has adopted Gall and Spurzheim's anatomy of the 46 CONTINUES HIS STUDIES. Dr Spurzheim's first course of lectures had termi- nated, and neither George nor Andrew had entered the door of his hall, or even seen him ; when, by mere acci- dent, a young advocate accosted George in the street, and asked him whether he would like to see Dr Spurz- heim dissect a human brain in his house. George gladly accepted the invitation, and soon saw that the brain dissected by Dr Spurzheim exhibited a structure very different from that which had been described in the Edinburgh Review. He discovered also, that Dr Spurzheim, so far from being an impudent and men- dacious quack, as represented in the Review, was a re- markably quiet, modest, and intelligent man, an acute observer, and logical reasoner on all subjects connected with human nature. He therefore attended his second course of lectures, and was deeply interested by the views presented to his consideration. Without being led away by enthusiasm, he saw, from the first, that the new doctrines, if true, were eminently practical ; and he earnestly and deliberately, and through many difficul- ties, set about the task of ascertaining whether nature supported them or not. The result is detailed in the works which he subsequently published on Phrenology. George soon became intimately acquainted with Dr Spurzheim, and, being honoured with his friendship, he consulted him about the best method of completing Andrew's professional instruction. For the first time in his life, he obtained some practical information on the subject of education, founded on the combined sciences of physiology and mental philosophy. Andrew, in the brain, she teaches it without recognising their physiology, or the con- nection between particular mental powers and particular portions of that organ ; and in her theological department, she repudiates the ac- knowledgment of cerebral organization as exerting a practical influ- ence on the primitive dispositions and capacities of individuals. CONTINUES HIS STUDIES. 47 continuation of his letter to George last quoted, de- scribes the result as follows : " To you," says he, " and to Phrenology, I owe the perception I ultimately acquired of possessing powers of a higher kind than I at first believed. You always treated me as a being capable of thinking, and of taking an interest in general subjects and in human improve- ment, and thus gradually opened my mind to their inherent im- portance, and to the frivolity of the objects which occupy mankind at large, apart from their mere business. Of my debt to Phrenology (great and deep it was), I shall afterwards speak ; but before I for- get, I must add here, that anterior to my acquaintance with it, one of the most discouraging of all the things that oppressed me, was my inaptitude for metaphysical study. I saw you and others reading and delighting in Reid and Stewart, and heard you talking philosophy ; and when I took up the same works, with an earnest intention to mas- ter them, I could not find, or at least follow, a clear meaning through any two or three consecutive pages, much less chapters ; and when I left off, my mind was as unfurnished with meaning in a tangible form, as when I began. I therefore concluded, that my intellect must be grievously defective in some great talent which you and your friends possessed, and that I was in reality the double-distilled blockhead which my father used, half-seriously, half-jestingly, to call me.* I have since ascribed this, in no small degree, to my deficient Even- tuality ; but on reading Stewart in my maturer years, I often turned away in disgust from the small performance of magnificent promises, and the trifling shadows of meaning, half hidden under a ponderous panoply of high-sounding words. His paltry fear of self-committal, contrasted with the only fear which would have become him, but which seems never to have occurred to his mind, viz., that' of leading his readers into error, also repelled me at every page ; and I could detect in his writings only an elegant mind of ordinary grasp, worshipping its own efforts, rather than intent upon the advance of truth alone. He desired truth, too ; but it was ' truth and I in company,' and not ' truth, whatever may become of me.' But I must not wander. " You ask me to give you some account of my introduction to Phre- nology, and of its effects upon my life and practice. I have already * His father was fond of applying epithets to his sons, in this half-earnest and half-jesting way. One was called " Abram the Rascal," because he had a good deal of comic humour, and was fond of playing tricks on his brothers and sisters ; while George and Andrew were distinguished by the epithet of " Blockheads." 48 CONTINUES HIS STUDIES. done so in various letters to different friends at different times ; but I owe it so much, that I shall do so again, as clearly as the space and circumstances will permit. It was, I think, in the summer of 1815, that, on searching the Edinburgh Subscription Library for a book which happened to be out, I accidentally laid my hands on ' Spurzheim's Physiognomical System;' and, amused by the grotesqueness of some of the plates, I brought it home for a few days, till the book I wanted should be returned. You and I looked over it now and then, and laughed heartily at some of the isolated anecdotes and remarks, and, following the fashion of ridicule set by the Edinburgh Review, then just out, neither of us thought of reading the book, and after some days' amusement in turning it over, I carried it back unread. I was then under eighteen years of age, and busy with my studies, and con- ceived the subject to be quite out of my way. " You afterwards met Dr Spurzheim, and attended his lectures, and became impressed with the importance and probable truth of his doctrines. I continued engaged in professional study ; but, in 1816 and part of 1817, I often heard you making remarks and arguing on the subject. I became, in consequence, so far impressed, that, with- out knowing much about it, I began to consider it as a serious matter of inquiry, and not to be disposed of by ridicule. In this state of mind I went to Paris in October 1817." Andrew visited London on his way to Paris, and in a letter to his mother, dated 9th October 1817, he gives a particular account of his voyage in a sailing smack, and of the wonders which the English metropolis pre- sented to his mind. The letter is distinguished by lucid composition, strong sense, and so great a maturity of understanding, that a quarter of a century might be supposed to have intervened between it and the let- ter of 15th August 1814, copied,on p. 27. One object which he describes as diversifying the scenery of the Thames, can no longer be seen, and its removal indicates the progress of civilization. After mentioning the Hulks at Woolwich, he adds : " A little farther up we saw about eight men hung in chains, on the banks of the river ; two of them Blacks, for murdering their captain ; and four smugglers, for running down a custom-house PROCEEDS TO PARIS. 49 boat, and chopping off the officers' hands, when they at- tempted to catch hold of the smuggler's vessel/' After a short stay in London, he proceeded to Paris, and his first letter from that capital, dated loth October 1817, is addressed to his brother George. It contains a sentence which is curions, as shewing his surprise at finding his speech understood in London. At that time teaching a correct pronunciation of the English language rarely formed an object in a Scotch education. " I had,"" says he, " some rather unexpected compliments paid me for my speaking English so correctly. I never found it necessary to repeat what I said a second time. I both understood others at once, and made myself understood; at which I have no doubt you will be surprised, and much more so will our sister Jean." The words used by Andrew in expressing his ideas, were probably well- selected English terms ; but he and his relatives, dur- ing their whole lives, spoke with so strong a Scotch accent, that occasionally they were unintelligible to English auditors not accustomed to their tones. An- drew describes his journey to Dover, and then gives an account of his voyage across the Channel, in " the Poll, a small vessel of about 40 tons."' The weather was rough at starting, but the wind was favourable. " I was sitting on a stool,"' says he, " attempting to screen myself, and expecting nothing, when a sea broke in upon us, washed me off my feet, and many more of us. I was not so much afraid, on coming to myself, as astonished. I was lying on the deck in six inches of water." On arriving at Calais, the wind dropt, and they were close to the shore, at the mercy of the waves, in a tremendous surf. " The Frenchmen had manned two large boats to come through the surf to our relief, and a great crowd had collected to see us. When they saw us in safety, they laughed heartily at our drenched D 50 PROCEEDS TO PARIS. appearance." He notices the great number of beggars, both in London and Paris, and his disappointment at the first aspect of the narrow and dirty streets of the French capital. This letter is characteristic of his mind. He took an interest in everything, and describes the country from London to Dover, and from Calais to Paris, noticing the differences between England and France, in the fields, cattle, horses, ploughs, carriages, and people. He also describes graphically his felloAv- passengers. His next letter, dated Paris, 22d October 1817, also addressed to George, is written in French, and mentions that he had occasionally breakfasted with Dr Spurz- heim, and " soon discovered that he was a keen obser- ver, and a man of solid judgment, and upright, kindly feelings." From him he received advice on all points respecting the employment of his time, and the studies he should pursue. He describes his first visit to the Hotel Dieu, or great public hospital for the sick, with the condition of which he was much pleased. He adds, " I never was in such excellent health as at present ; and have a great appetite, and am said to be becoming- fat." In the following letter, dated Paris, 16th November 1817, addressed to his sister Jean, he gives an account of the employment of his time. It may interest the young reader, although to more experienced persons it will present little that is not familiarly known. " I will begin," says he, " with telling you how I live at present. I get up, then, at a little past six o'clock, though I have been sometimes a little later, from my not being accustomed to such early rising of late. The surgeon is at the Hotel Dieu at half-past six o'clock, and begins his visit, which occupies from two hours to two hours and a half. After the visit, he gives a most excellent lecture, four times a-week. I understand him better than any other lecturer. His lec- ture, when there is no operation, generally finishes about half-past HIS STUDIES IN PARIS. 51 nine or ten. I then come home and breakfast at ten ;* and go to the anatomical class till twelve, when Dr Sinclair, two other Englishmen, and I, go to the dissecting-rooms at La Pitie, which is almost half-an- hour's walk off. We remain there till four or half-past four ; dine from five to six, and sometimes go to the Hotel Dieu in the evening from six to seven. I then come home and study French, and read French medical books. I will be obliged to buy several, as, though there are libraries at the Ecole de Medeeine free for the students, they do not give us the books horns ; and we can only sit there between ten and twelve, three days in the week, during which time I am most occupied with other duties. There are likewise booksellers, in whose rooms I could read for 10s. a quarter ; but then I could go to them only in the evening, when I am most inclined to beat home ; and 10s. a quarter will go some way to buy the books altogether. Before the classes began, we observed fashionable hours, breakfasting often at eleven, and dining at six. Our rooms are very good, and the people very civil and attentive. We are in a good situation every way, being on one of the quays, near the Hotel Dieu and lectures. " I had always thought that I should make more progress in the French language if I boarded in a respectable French family ; but I have discovered my mistake. There are very few boarding-houses, and almost all are more than two-thirds filled with English, who never speak a syllable of French, if they can avoid it. I think now that a respectable French companion would be better ; but him I do not know how to find. This is my plan for winter, and it is followed by Dr Spurzheim's advice. By this arrangement I lose almost none of my time, and am getting on with the language. I was obliged to re- move to so great a distance from my French teacher, here called a ' Pro- * In his " Physiology of Digestion considered with Relation to the Principles of Dietetics, v he makes the following observations on this breakfast hour : " During the first winter of my studies in Paris. I regularly accompanied the surgical visits at the Hotel Dieu, which began at six o'clock in the morning, and lasted till nine or frequently half- past nine. Xot being then aware of the principle under discussion, I ate nothing till my return home ; but before the day was done I felt more weariness than the mere exertion ought to have produced. At last, on noticing for a time the regularity with which many of the work-people passing along paid their respects at a small shop, the only one then open, where fancy rolls were sold, along with wine and brandy, I thought of following their example to the extent of trying how far a roll would add to my comfort. I soon found great reason to be pleased with the expedient : and discovered that I was not only less exhausted during the day, but more able to follow the lecture which concluded the visit, and in possession of a keener appetite for breakfast at my return ; and ever since, I hare acted on the prin- ciple now inculcated, and with marked benefit/' 52 HIS STUDIES IN PARIS. fessor,' after I had received only three lessons (at four francs each ; some charge six francs), that he could not come to me, nor I go to him ; but he has kindly put me in a way of getting on by myself. He gave me a Telemachus, having French on the one side and English on the other. I read the French aloud to him, for the sake of the pronunciation, which I found in general not far wrong when I under- stood the sense thoroughly. Then I covered the French side, and tried to convert the English into as good French as I could. After doing so once, I read the page again from English into French, and so a third time ; and next morning I wrote it as well as I could, and then M. Michaud corrected it for me. I did two or three pages at first, and now accomplish more. By this means I go on still, and cor- rect from the French side. I expect in the end to make good French, as I am picking up an idiom every now and then. I got a grammar also, which helps me. The French whom I meet appear to be more generally able to speak English than the English French, although fewer of them go to England. " Anatomy, however, is my principal object. It is very necessary, and particularly so for a surgeon ; and the opportunities here are so good, that I must set to it seriously. There are private rooms at La Pitie, which are both more comfortable and convenient than the public ones. They are drier, cleaner, and one can exclude idle men, and lock up instruments, &c. We four have joined to hire one of them. It will cost us only four francs each per month, which is not to be compared with four guineas [for a season ?] at Edinburgh. The number of stu- dents from Edinburgh is greater than I could have supposed, and many more arrive daily. Dr Spurzheim remarked that he had always pre- dicted that the University of Edinburgh would lose its reputation when the Continent was thrown open, as the opportunities for anato- mical study were not nearly so good, or so easily accessible, there as at Paris. " I never heard of the death of the Princess Charlotte till the 12th November. It is an unfortunate and melancholy event; and wherever two or three Englishmen come together, in the Louvre, gardens, or elsewhere, it is the subject of their discourse. ... I like the French and Paris both very well ; but Paris more than them, I be- lieve. Dr H has a violent prejudice or antipathy, or whatever else it is, which makes him think uncommonly little of the French. He told me that Paris was the nastiest, dirtiest hole he had ever seen, with some good public buildings. But at that time he was rather unwell, and in low spirits ; besides which it had been rain, and the streets were very dirty, and he had been marching backwards and LOVE OF HOME. 53 forwards from the Prefet's to the English Embassy, brushing his pantaloons and the skirts of his greatcoat three times a-day ! He won- dered at my coolness, and the many consolations I gave him. When we had a bad dinner to-day, for example, I told him that we need not come back to this restaurant to-morrow. I like plain dishes, and in consequence fare better than he ; but in this instance the meats were nearly invisible in candle-light, from their small size. He was highly dissatisfied, and grumbled a good deal. I said nothing, but resolved to make the best of the circumstances, and never enter the door again. He acknowledged that my plan was the best, but he considered it a comfort to express his displeasure. We had always had good dinners before, but the houses were further off, and to them we must go again." Andrew Cotnbe possessed strong domestic affections, and, in a letter of the same date, to his brother George, he says, " I was very anxious to hear from home, and was much more so when I knew, from Dr Spurzheim, that a letter from home had been lying for me for six days, and been returned to the General Post- Office, because my new address had been mislaid. I very frequently dreamt that I was at home, sometimes at dinner, and sometimes in my own bed at home. I have now the satisfaction of having obtained the letter." On many subsequent occasions, he adverts to his dis- appointment, when letters from home did not arrive on the days when he expected them. He says, for in- stance, " Every day when I came in, I thought the letter must be here to- day, till at last I feared that it had been lost. I am always happy to receive a letter from home, after being sent away so suddenly from the midst of so many of you ; and I like to write home, thinking you, too, will be well pleased to hear of my doings." " I am rejoicing," says he, on 28th June, " in the good state of the weather with you, as I find my own home and country always uppermost in my thoughts. As my windows look to the north, I sometimes, when not thinking, stretch my vision, to try if I can see Arthur's Seat or the Calton Hill, or in imagination I go to Livingston's Yards, and hear my mother welcome me home ; or to your (George's) house, and sit down at your right hand as usual, and then I see Mr Smith dropping in to supper, and 54 LOVE OF HOME. hear him laughing at the Doctor's long phiz ; when, in a moment, the sight of the river Seine brings me back from my reverie." His talent for humour has been alluded to ; and the following letter, dated 16th January 1818, addressed to his sister Margaret, exhibits an example in point. It introduces us also into the circle of his social amuse- ments in Paris. " George suspects much of my present happiness depends on ' the Beauty' [a young lady whom he had described]. I wish it were so, or rather I am thankful it is not so, seeing I must leave her in a few months. I doubt not she would produce a very powerful effect, did I see her oftener ; but once in three or four weeks gives me time to cool again. It is all one ; Jean will find some ' Beauty' for me to fall in love with in Edinburgh when I come back ; and I am quite convinced that the Edinburgh ' Beauties' are the best in every respect. So I am contented again. By the bye, I have visited another French family, and a philosopher too (if I can be permitted to judge from seeing six dried snakes hanging up in his study, along with three dried crabs, quite conclusive as to the fact, in my mind, at least), where I saw some young ladies, and very amiable. As I like to be- gin at the right end of my story, I ask if you know the ' Fete des Rois.' It is a fete observed in every family, from the king's down- wards. A dinner takes place, at which an immense pastry-cake is presented, and cut into pieces. In one part of it is a bean, and who- ever gets the piece with the bean in it is proclaimed king or queen, and he presides over the dinner. When the king drinks, all the company bawl out, ' Le roi boit, le roi boit,' when he finishes, ' Le roi a bu;' and so for the queen. The king elects a queen, et vice versa. On these occasions everybody is gay. I was asked to Mr Schmidt's fete ; we got our cake, and could not find the beau ; and we were all busy scolding the cook for not having put one in it, when the bean was discovered in Miss S.'s slice. We saluted her as her Majesty forthwith ; and I had the honour of being elected his Ma- jesty. I began to drink ; and they bawled out so unexpectedly and loudly, that I thought the house was on fire. His serene Majesty nearly underwent the odious process of suffocation, and her Majesty was nearly caught in the same manner. We enjoyed ourselves very much, and in the evening we went to visit the philosopher. On enter- ing, we found a dozen of them just at their dessert. Madame and Ma- demoiselle were covered with kisses (as they always are), and then we LOVE OF HOME. 55 sat down. Though we had dined heartily, the old gentleman in- sisted on our assisting to dispatch his grapes, raisins, prunes, &c., and his excellent Champagne, made by himself on his own ground. I was placed at table, and looked upon as an old acquaintance, though I be- lieve they forgot even to tell who I was. If he was a philosopher, he was not at all averse to enjoying the good things allowed us by Pro- vidence in this vale of misery. They all appeared to find themselves in a very comfortable state. They began dancing at last, to music scraped out of a fiddle with three strings. It was enough for the pur- pose. Madame S . danced for the first time since her marriage (eighteen years ago), with a gentleman's hat on her head, to sustain her charac- ter as a cavalier ; and a smart one, too, she was. At last, as a parting ceremony, they danced to singing, going all round in a ring, with one in the middle, who was to kiss whoever she or he liked best. This part I joined, as no dancing was required, and as I thought five mi- nutes would finish it. Madame S. was here kissed often, first as gen- tleman, and then as lady. All this work, you know, was rather new to me. (I think I have seen sixpence offered to my niece to kiss the Doctor.) So when one young lady came to me by accident, and turned up her cheek, I stooped down and kissed it most beautifully, and thought I had done all that was necessary. It was a mistake, as the lady soon convinced me, by holding up the other side too (in imita- tion, I suppose, of the patient Quaker, who is directed, when smitten on one side of the face, to turn up the other too). I repeated the cere- mony. I need not say, figure to yourself a tall, thin personage, &c., &c. ; that is unnecessary ; for you do figure him to yourself, and smile." " William says you are afraid that some of the French beauties may rnn away with me ; but I daresay you may keep your minds easy on that point. You are no strangers to the difficulty of making the Doctor march against his will,* and he has not yet been hit by the ar- rows of * le petit Monsieur Cupid,' as the French call him." Almost every letter written during his residence in Paris breathes the same love of home. In a letter to George, he says, " The other evening, in taking a turn about my room, my thoughts went more and more northward, till I found myself in the midst of the family ; and I had such a pleasant discourse, that I actually caught myself smiling more than once, at the questions and answers. After a good deal of talk, I began to tell them how well they had rigged * This refers to the incident mentioned on page 17. 5(j PROFESSOR DUPUYTREN. me out at parting, as not a button or a stitch has failed in any piece of my apparel (stockings always excepted), and it is now twelve months since I left home. The stockings have not often required my assist- ance either ; but tell the female part of the family to beware of their reputation, for before my return, I shall be able to darn as well as the best of them. A hole is now the business of one minute, instead of being the work of twenty minutes ; and it is so well finished, that, in my silk stockings, you could not see even where it had been ! My good Scotch shoes, however, are gone, and I sincerely regret them, as the French are still incapable of making leather, and, of course, shoes !" In the year 1818, this last remark was literally cor- rect; for the high reputation which French shoes now possess, has been gained by great improvements made in the manufacture of leather since the peace of 1815. In a letter to his mother, dated Paris, 23d January 1818, he mentions Professor Dupuytren in the follow- ing terms : " I must tell you an incident that occurred the other day at the Hotel Dieu. Monsieur Dupuytren was scolding a Frenchman who happened to be standing behind an Englishman, Dr M., and the lat- ter, believing that Dupuytren was scolding him, defended himself, and denied that he was to blame. Dupuytren, being in the midst of an operation on a poor man in bed, got into a furious passion, and rated Dr M. soundly, telling him that if he did not hold his tongue, he must leave the Hospital. Dr M. was so much hurt, that he could not sleep, and wrote to Dupuytren, explaining why he had replied to his attack. Nobody believed that Dupuytren would answer his letter, but the fol- lowing reply was returned : ' Je verrai toujours avec plaisir Mons. M. suivre mes visites et mes lemons. Je le prie d'agreer 1'assurance de ma parfaite consideration. DUPUYTREN.' And thus ended the mal- entendu. Dupuytren cannot allow the business of the Hospital to be interrupted by replies to his reproofs, and the French students receive them in silence. His object is always to make them do their duty." " George," he continues, " remarked, that when so many patients die in the Hotel Dieu, there must be some faults in the treatment. That there are some, I have no doubt, because I see them ; but upon the whole the treatment is excellent. Very many of the patients are in a desperate condition before they are brought in for advice ; but I have seldom seen so much attention paid to really sick persons as by Dupuytren. The kind, insinuating manner in which he speaks to PROFESSOR DUPUYTREN. 57 many of them, makes them almost forget their pains ; and during an operation or dressing, he talks to them, asking them questions of all kinds, to divert their attention from their sufferings, and often with great success. To an obstreperous patient, of whichever sex, he is rude. For a case requiring instantaneous decision, I have never seen a surgeon equal to him (you know, however, that I have not yet seen a great many of any kind). He acts without hesitation, and after he has finished, he states, with great clearness and precision, the reasons for and against particular modes of proceeding ; and his reasons are generally very satisfactory, even when one would suppose that he had had no time for consideration. I am sometimes inclined to think that he could make any person submit to allow his head to be cut oft'. The other day he made a little boy jump upon a table, to be operated upon for the stone, quite pleased and joking. He asked him if ever he rode at home ? ' Yes,' said the boy, ' often ; my father sends me out to ride.' ' Ah !' said Dupuytren, ' your father gives you a fine horse to ride upon ?' ' Ah, non, monsieur, c'est un aiie, ce n'est pas un cheval.' ' You ride upon a nice ass, then, instead of a horse, do you ?' ' Ah, oui,' said the little fellow, quite pleased. The operation was completed in two minutes. The boy cried a little ; and when he saw the stone, ' Est- ce gros comme ?a !' he exclaimed with astonishment. He is recovering well." In a subsequent letter, writing of the same Professor, he says, " I repeat what I have said already, that, of all professors, French and English, endowed or unendowed, whom I have known, Dupuy- tren discharges his duty in a more zealous way, and takes more pains to instruct the students who attend him, than any man I have ever seen. It is certainly meritorious in him, after a fatiguing visit of three hours to nearly 280 patients, to sit down and give an account of all the important cases under his care, mentioning their daily pro- gress, his remedies, and the reasons of his treatment, without regard to his own convenience and comfort ; for he must breakfast either be- fore six o'clock in the morning, or not till eleven or half-past eleven in the day. I was at first prejudiced against the French and French surgery ; but by degrees I could not resist forming, from the facts I saw before me, the opinions which I have expressed. Although I do admire him, however, I must not devote my whole time to his instruc- tions, but must attend other professors and different hospitals. In future, I mean to keep my mind as open to their good qualities as to our own." 58 PROFESSOR DUPUYTREN. " Ludicrous incidents," he continues, " occasionally present them- selves in the Hospital. A patient who had all but recovered from a broken arm, stole out one day without leave, just to see how the world was going on. As he was staring at some object, a cabriolet rode him down and broke the other arm. He returned, remarking that now both arms were alike !" Shortly afterwards he thus writes to his sister Jean : " You may tell George, as it may interest him, that Dupuytren has a powerful head. He has large organs of Individuality, Eventuality, Comparison, and Causality ; in short, all before the ear is very full. He has a good deal of Combativeness, and it is obvious that he has no sympathy for a poltroon. As long as the patients suifer quietly, he acts as if he were their guardian angel ; but when they complain, especially Avhen they roar out for trifles, I would nearly as soon give them the devil himself for their surgeon as Dupuytren." This probably proceeded from a defect of temper in this eminent operator ; for a patient is relieved by cry- ing aloud under a severe operation. When acute pain is felt, the nervous system receives a shock, the evil effects of which are increased by the efforts used not to give way to nature and cry. In a letter to his sister Margaret, dated Paris, 6th April 1818, in reference to his studies, he says : " On 26th March I finished my dissections ; and I confess, for the edification of my friends at home, that before beginning, I thought myself a far better anatomist than I do now, after four months pretty constant application. I am amazed to discover the vagueness of the notions which I had mistaken for a complete knowledge of the human structure ; but now I feel a degree of confidence in myself to perform operations of which I was previously afraid. However, I have only a kind of confidence yet, which I must, if possible, increase by prac- tice here." It may be proper to mention, as a trait of his charac- ter, that, in a letter written at this time to his mother, he gives an account of his pecuniary expenditure, classi- FRENCH MEDICAL STUDENTS. 59 fyiug it under the different heads of expenses of educa- tion, of living, of clothes, and of pocket-money; and that the items shew a combination of judicious disbursement with economy, creditable equally to his judgment and his tastes. In a letter to his sister Jean, he says : " I have found the articles in the little bag extremely useful. Sometimes, when in need of something or another, I have thought to myself, ' Look into the hag, and see what your sister has put there !' I looked accordingly, and generally found what I wanted. This shews the great advantage of having a kind and thoughtful sister like you." " For your encouragement in study, I may mention, that last week I saw two young ladies attending a lecture on medical hotany. They were in the midst of three hundred not very genteel students, and were not taken notice of at all. Both appeared quite at home. At the Bcole de Medecine, it is no rarity to see a few soldiers at lecture, sometimes tailors, and even porters and charcoal-carters, standing with their mouths wide open, as if to receive the words as they drop from the Professor. As, however, there are lectures on the genteel side of the town for both sexes at moderate prices, most of the ladies prefer going there." It is well known that in France the members of the medical profession do not occupy the same social rank as they do in the great cities of this country. The fol- lowing remarks give a glimpse into one of the causes of the lower estimation in which they are held. " I have had my pocket picked at the bedside of a patient in the Hotel Dieu. Luckily it contained only my pocket-handkerchief, with which the young rascal escaped. The medical students here are such a set, and held in such low estimation, that I am almost ashamed to own that I belong to the fraternity. Indeed, I have sometimes said to inquisitive people, that I am following the philosophical lectures at the Faculte des Sciences." In the summer of 1818, he attended a course of Lec- tures on Botany by Mons. Desfontaines, and a course on Chemistry by M. Langres. 60 STUDIES PURSUED IN SUMMER 1818. " These are delivered at the ' Jardin du Roi,' and are excellent. I formerly thought botany a dry study, but now I find it extremely pleasant. The class-room will accommodate one thousand students ; and although the lecture begins at seven A.M., one must go at six, to get a good place. Among the students are from forty to fifty ladies, of whom four are English. They were loudly cheered when they en- tered." " I go to the Hopital St Louis, for diseases of the skin, where clinical lectures are given by Mons. Alibert, a very celebrated man in Prance." He describes this professor as extremely vain. " To make his hearers laugh," says he, " appears to be his principal aim, and the next the spreading of his own fame. Yet with all these faults, he is a genius; but vanity, vanity, with him all is vanity !" He also followed a course on Geology, by Faujas St Fond ; and one on Physiology, by Richerand. " The Lecturers at the Jardin du Roi," says he, " are experienced old men, free from the affectation and self-importance which charac- terise so many of those at the Bcole de Medecine. Many men get a name here for very slender attainments. Richerand, whose Physio- logy has long been translated into English, is a celebrated man, and yet he is young, pompous, and affected. His Physiology was the best of its day, because there was no other ; but it is certainly no great affair." " I would like you to send me Euclid, as, in the autumnal months, I mean to go over it with the assistance of my learned friend Collie. I now see the great utility of mathematics, and am only sorry that I learnt the little I know of them when so young that I did not dis- cover their utility, although even then I really liked them. In the ensuing winter I shall study the brain, as you recommend, with as much attention as possible. I did not attempt it last winter, as it was too complicated a structure for a beginner. Even with my recent experience it must be difficult, but I shall do my best." He mentions that he had attended Abbe Sicard's examination of the Deaf and Dumb, and been greatly interested by the attainments of the pupils. Their de- finition of difficulty, he says, was " possibilite avec ob- stacle." He also commenced the study of Italian this sum- mer. HIS OWN APPEARANCE AND HEALTH DESCRIBED. 61 In a letter of the 28th June he describes his own ap- pearance : " Madame Schmidt desires me to tell you that, before I come home, you must have the doors of your houses a little elevated, as I have grown tremendously tall since my arrival. Her husband says that a man grows till he is five-and-twenty, and hence I have four-and-a-half years still in which to increase. At this rate I should surely at last become truly ' un grand homme.' However, Madame says that I am ' assez gros ' for my height, and that I must not become fatter. This is what other people say of me ; and for my own account, I believe that I am just as I was when I left you, perhaps a little firmer, with a long face, not quite mahogany tint, but, according to Dr H., verging a little towards it. But with the heat here at 89-J and 90 all fore- noon in the shade, whose face can be white, except the faces of the ladies ? I can walk from one to four P.M. in the sun, or out of it, and feel myself very comfortable, neither burnt nor annoyed. What the cause is I do not know, but here I am much less oppressed than at home with the thermometer at 70 ; and in winter, when it stood at 16, I still was not disagreeably affected. All that is left for me, is to be thankful to find myself in such an accommodating condition of health and strength. In such days I find a flannel vest next the skin a luxury." " In these mornings 200 students at least may be seen in the walks of the Jardin du Hoi, breakfasting on a roll and cherries or currants, or on bread alone, and frequently I now breakfast in the same manner. In very warm weather it is more refreshing than drinking hot coffee and milk. I have seen the time when I should have imagined myself very ill supplied if put off with such a breakfast ; but I like the French way of living because I feel myself well with it, though it was dis- agreeable at first." The following extract relates to an idiosyncrasy of constitution in Andrew, remarkable in his younger years, and which probably arose from the fruits men- tioned passing into the acetous fermentation in his sto- mach, owing to weakness of digestion, afterwards re- moved by an improved tone in his general system. " I am now thinking," says he, " what a fool I have been all my life to refuse to eat grapes, strawberries, peaches, plums, &c. I am verily astonished at myself; but tell my mother not to be afraid, for 62 HIS OWN VIEW OF HIS PROSPECTS. I don't think I shall ever eat butter, or eggs, or cheese.* I have re- solved henceforth to partake of the good things of this life, whenever I can get them, and not sit like a fool and see everybody eating and enjoying themselves but myself. It is a curious revolution too ; for when I left home, I thought I had hundreds of reasons for not eating them, and now I can't see even the shadow of one reason for such proceedings ; nor do I know how the change has been produced, or at what period." In a letter to George, dated 20th July 1818, he al- ludes to his professional prospects in the following terms : " If our two heads are not of the same conformation nearly, I think they should be, for it is a rare occurrence to find us differing in our views ; but then we are not both doctors. I thank you sincerely for your commendations, in addition to the many others already received. My earnest wish is to be as small a burden on the family as possible, while a burden I must be, and to cease to be so as soon as possible. The prospect of the latter is farther distant than I could wish. Had the war continued, it might have been an easier matter to provide for myself than at present, when medical men are swarming everywhere. But still, I should not have wished his Majesty's ministers to continue the war for my sake. It only remains for me, without being too much discouraged, to endeavour to make myself useful. If the life of a medical man has any sweets, and, like others, it must have some, the pleasure of being the means of relieving a fellow-creature, even of the lowest grade, from suffering, is certainly none of the least. Though I have done no great things, yet even in my small practice I have tasted some half hours which I would not have exchanged for any consideration. I cannot expect, as it were, to jump into practice, but I shall do my best to make it the interest of people to employ me. Still the thought gives me a little uneasiness, lest, in spite of my en- deavours, I should not succeed. My residence in Paris will tell in my favour, as there is a tendency in most persons to imagine that know- ledge and experience gained in a foreign country are superior to those of home-growth. They magnify the objects which they see only dimly as through a glass." He felt and gratefully acknowledged every act of kindness shewn to him by any one. Almost every letter * This peculiarity continued with him through life. HIS INTELLECTUAL CONDITION DESCRIBED. 63 contains expressions of his sense of the attentions which he received from Dr Spurzheim and his wife, and from other families in Paris to whom he had been introduced. To his brother George, on 28th April 1818, he writes: " I thank you for your last-mentioned compliment of 10. For the many such you have given me, I think I must engage to keep your body in the best repair I can henceforth, without cost to you, this being the only, though poor return, I can give you for your kindness." He literally fulfilled this promise as long as he lived ; and to his judicious counsels, and constant watchful care, his brother owed a regularly improving constitu- tion, so that in advanced years he enjoyed a firmer hold of life than he had ever been conscious of in youth. It is proper to add, that Andrew, during his whole life, was scrupulously exact in money transactions, and punctual in payment of his debts ; and that, when, after the death of his mother, he received his patrimony, he gratefully reimbursed all the advances which had been made to him during his professional education. In a letter to his sister Jean, dated 25th August 1818, he says : " It is a great fault in myself, the want of reflecting on what I read, and I believe it is one of the evil consequences of my long and hurtful silence ; because from neither asking the opinion of others, nor express- ing my own, on the books which I read, I take a less firm hold of the subject, than if I had started discussion on it. The consequence is now, that although I have read a great many books, yet I scarcely remember a line of any of them. I am anxious to get into intelligent society, were it only to excite my reflecting faculties, by hearing and giving opinions. I could speak like any other person, if I had people to speak with, and then I should improve doubly. I know that I have at least a share of reflecting faculties, because when attacked on questions of importance by my two acute young friends, AV. and Gr., and forced to draw on my own resources to answer them, I improved more than I could have supposed. I shall ever consider my coming to Paris as an era in my life. It has given me new ideas on many sub- 64 HIS SUMMER RECREATIONS IN PARIS. jects, and I have learned a good deal ; but I have still very much to learn. * * * " My faculties unfortunately require compulsion to excite them; but, as you said, set them in motion, keep me employed, and I am happy myself, and pleased with everything around me. Allow them to stag- nate, and I am miserable and discontented. I have resolved, however, not to become silent again, if I can find anything to say. It is said, ' vir sapit qui patica loquitur;' but in my opinion, although he may be a wise man when he begins to be silent, he will not long continue such if he practise constantly on that rule. I am in good health and spirits. Now that I have fairly discussed myself, what books would you recommend to me to read ?" The following extracts describe his summer recrea- tions : " I went out to Vincennes on Sunday after dinner. There is there a delightful large park, and the road was crowded with carriages and pedestrians. The evening was beautifully fine, and every body was merry as usual. It gave me great pleasure to see the people happy and enjoying themselves ; so that, although I do not dance myself, I liked much to see every body else in motion." " I have been to Marly also, St Germain, and other places. Little pedestrian excursions like these, with one or two good companions, are delicious enjoyments. "We are only sorry that we have nearly exhausted the neighbourhood of Paris, except to the south. " If you find this letter dull, you must know, that I have supjgfssed much nonsense which I was going to write, to make way for graver sub- jects ; but here are some little bits for you. George says that Madame S.'s beautiful daughter seems to have made a deep impression on me ; but I am sorry to say that, however deep the impression may have been at first, it is now getting time to wear off, as unfortunately I have seen her only once since I described her, and did not see her to-day when I visited the family. But I have another lady to tell you of, with whom I lately made rather an amusing figure. I was walking with Mademoiselle H. and her father, and I very gallantly offered her my arm, which she accepted. But, dolor ! after stretching her arm as far as she could, she succeeded in attaining to mine only with the ends of her two middle digits, and then from my gigantic stature one of my steps equalled five or six of hers, so that, do as I liked, we could not keep the step, but jostled and annoyed each other, till at last we took a hearty laugh and separated." ANDREW COMBE STUDIES PHRENOLOGY. 65 CHAPTER VI. ANDREW COMBE STUDIES PHRENOLOGY, AND COMPLETES HIS MEDICAL EDUCATION IN PARIS VISITS SWITZERLAND AND THE NORTH OF ITALY AND RETURNS TO EDINBURGH. IN the autumn of 1818 Andrew Combe commenced a serious investigation of Phrenology ; and in his letters to his relations, he gives numerous and interesting de- tails of his observations. For example, in a letter to George, dated in March 1819, he says : " "With the exception of the functions of a few individual organs, I knew actually nothing of the system till within the last year, and I was astonished to find it so, as I thought that I had known more of it after hearing so many convincing discourses on it in your circle. I am not satisfied with my knowledge on various heads of it yet, hut I know it hotter. Dr Spurzheim and his wife are very kind to me indeed ; I see them often, and one morning lately I went to him with a human brain, which I procured at the hospital after several weeks watching, and I dissected it under his directions. This occupied me two hours, and I received many useful instructions from him. He lent me several plates also, and has promised me his and Gall's large work as soon as a gentleman who now has it returns it." The knowledge thus acquired exercised a powerful and permanent influence on his subsequent pursuits ; and as, at a later period, he published, in the preface to his work on Mental Derangement, an account of these studies, it may appropriately be introduced here : " When yet a student," says he, " I joined in the general hurst of ridi- cule with which the phrenological doctrines were received at the time of Dr Spurzheim's visit to Great Britain in 1816-17 ; a piece of con- E 66 ANDREW COMBE STUDIES PHRENOLOGY. duct which is explained, though far from justified, by the circum- stance, that I was then totally unacquainted with their nature and import. My attention was first seriously turned to the examination of these doctrines during my residence at Paris, in the autumn of 1818, when Dr Spurzheim's Observations sur la Phrenologie, then just published, were happily put into my hands, at a time when, from there being no lectures in any of the Parisian schools, I had ample leisure to peruse that work deliberately. I had not proceeded far before I became impressed with the acuteness and profundity of many of the author's remarks on the varied phenomena of human nature, and with the simplicity of the principles by which he explained what had previously seemed contradictory and unintelligible ; and, in pro- portion as I advanced, the scrupulousness of statement, sobriety of judgment, and moral earnestness, with which he advocated his views, and inculcated their importance, made me begin to apprehend that to condemn without inquiry was not the way to ascertain the truth of Phrenology, or to become qualified to decide in a matter of medicine or of philosophy. I therefore resolved to pause, in order to make my- self acquainted with the principles of the new physiology, and to re- sort, as he recommended, to observation and experience for the means of verifying or disproving their accuracy, before again hazarding an opinion on the subject. In carrying this resolution into effect in the following winter session, I had the advantage of being able to attend two courses of lectures delivered by Dr Spurzheim, at Paris, on the Anatomy, Physiology, and Pathology of the Brain and Nervous Sys- tem, during one of which rather a striking confirmation of his doc- trine occurred. In the middle of the lecture of 1st December 1818, a brain was handed in, with a request that Dr Spurzheim would say what dispositions it indicated, and he would then be informed how far he was correct. Dr Spurzheim took the brain without any hesi- tation, and, after premising that the experiment was not a fair one, in as far as he was not made acquainted with the state of health, con- stitution, or education of the individual, all of which it was essential for him to be aware of before drawing positive inferences ; he added, that, nevertheless, he would give an opinion on the supposition that the brain had been a sound one, and endowed with ordinary activity : after which, he proceeded to point out the peculiarities of develop- ment which it presented." After giving the details of the case, which our limits prevent us from quoting, Dr Combe goes on to say, that, altogether, the close coincidence between the facts, with ANDREW COMBE STUDIES PHRENOLOGY. 67 which he himself happened to be familiar, and the re- marks of Dr Spurzheim, who had never seen the skull, and judged from the brain alone, as it lay misshapen on a flat dish, made a deep impression on his mind ; as it went far to prove, not only that organic size had a powerful influence on energy of function, but that there actually were differences in different brains, appreciable to the senses, and indicative of diversity of energy in particular functions. He then proceeds as follows : " In continuing the practical observations which I had begun to make on living heads, I met at first with many difficulties, partly from unacquaintance with the local situation of the alleged organs, and with the limits of their respective functions ; and partly also from want of experience in observing : and thus, while the general result seemed to be confirmed, many apparent exceptions presented them- selves, and gave rise to numerous doubts. In extending my observa- tions, however, for the purpose of substantiating these objections, na- tural solutions so invariably presented themselves, one after another, in proportion as they were scrutinized, that, after two years' expe- rience, the conviction of the truth of the fundamental principles, and of the correctness of the functions ascribed to many of the larger or- gans, became irresistible ; while I still hesitated in regard to several of the smaller organs, the evidence of which I had not sufficiently ex- amined. Actuated by the natural feeling of improbability that so much should have been discovered in so short time by only two indi- viduals, however eminent their talents and felicitous their opportuni- ties, I still expected to meet with some important errors of detail, and, so far from being disposed to adopt implicitly all the propositions of Drs Grail and Spurzheim, I rather looked for, and expected to find, some hasty conclusions or unsupported assumptions ; and my surprise was extreme, to discover, that, in the whole extent of their inquiry, they had proceeded with so much caution and accuracy, as, in all their essential facts and inferences, to have rendered themselves apparently invulnerable. " On finding their statements in regard to the conditions required for the healthy manifestations of mind, thus borne out, and aware that a true physiology of the brain should not only derive confirma- tion from its morbid phenomena, but that it was, in fact, the only basis on which an intelligible and consistent view of the pathological derangements of the mental faculties, and the means required for their 68 ANDREW COMBE STUDIES PHRENOLOGY. cure, could rest, I resolved not to lose the favourable opportunity of prosecuting the inquiry, which then presented itself, in the announce- ment of a course of clinical lectures on mental derangement, at the Hospice de la Salpetriere, by the celebrated Esquirol, the friend, pupil, and successor of Pinel. This course I accordingly attended in the spring of 1819, being the first which was given ; and, amid the nume- rous forms of disordered mind, congregated in so large an establish- ment, I felt great interest in tracing the consistency which still ap- peared to obtain between the phenomena and the physiological prin- ciples unfolded by the teachers of the new philosophy. So closely, in- deed, did the descriptions of the various forms and transitions of in- sanity, and the distinctive features of the numerous cases referred to by the Professor in illustration (the subjects of most of which were then to be seen in the asylum), correspond with the doctrines which I was then engaged in studying, that I very naturally supposed that M. Esquirol himself must be a phrenologist." In this supposition, however, he soon learned with surprise that he was mistaken ; but at the subsequent stages of Esquirol's course, he failed to discover in the Professor's comments upon the doctrines of Dr Gall, any facts or reasonings which tended to shake his own previous impression of their general soundness and accordingly he continued his inquiry. " Feeling at every step I made in the examination of Dr Grail's discoveries, a deeper and deeper sense of their importance and prac- tical usefulness if they should prove to be true, and having made my- self sufficiently acquainted with his principles to be able to follow their application, I then entered upon the perusal of Dr Spurzheim's French work, Sur la Folie, with much attention, and with constant reference to the cases and phenomena brought under review in the wards and lecture-room of the Salpetriere ; and, when thus employed, I became still more alive to the value of Phrenology as a branch of professional knowledge, and lost no opportunity of testing its evidences by a com- parison with nature. Shortly after this, viz. in 1820, a treatise, en- titled De la Folie, made its appearance from the pen of M. Greorget, and met in many quarters with much commendation, for the preci- sion, consistency, and soundness of its doctrines. This work proved not only to be very ably written, but to be based throughout on the principles of Phrenology, and to be devoted, in its whole substance, to ANDREW COMBE STUDIES PHRENOLOGY. 69 the advocacy of the same doctrines in regard to mental affections, which, with some slight differences, it was the sole object of that pre- viously published by Dr Spurzheim, to inculcate. Of the latter, how- ever, M. Georget made no mention whatever, although he referred to Dr Gall's writings and lectures as the sources of many of his ideas ; and so oddly are opinions biassed by preconceived notions, that it is said to have happened that the same critic, who expressed his disre- spect for the views as published by the one author, bestowed his ap- probation upon them as coming from the other. I am uncertain whe- ther this allegation be strictly correct ; but I am quite secure in stating, that Dr Spurzheim's book, although in substance the same, met with a very different reception from that published by Dr Geor- get.' ; He very early became alive to the importance of the practical applications of Phrenology. In a letter to his sister Jean, dated in December 1818, he says : " Collie and I were breakfasting lately with Dr Spurzheim ; and Collie is quite delighted with the practical application which the Doctor has made of his science in choosing a wife for himself. Dr S. asked him many questions about the heads of the different tribes of native East Indians, and of the Chinese, whom he had seen, but un- fortunately he had not then attended to the forms of their brains, and could tell him nothing about them. It would be the most interesting study imaginable to compare the heads of these various tribes, differ- ing so much in character among themselves, and so much from Euro- peans. Dr S. regrets his inability to visit these countries ; and Col- lie says that, much as he dislikes the navy, he would willingly go back now to enjoy opportunities of making such examinations." On page 14 it was remarked that two of the causes of Andrew Combe's slow progress at school, were the pre- dominance of the reflecting over the observing organs in his brain, and the want of a field in which the reflect- ing faculties conld profitably employ themselves. The correctness of this observation is now apparent. He was only in his twenty-first year when he wrote the letters published in the preceding chapter, and made the observations here recorded. The activity of his mind, when objects congenial to his faculties were sup- 70 LETTERS FROM PARIS. plied, is conspicuous, even although he occasionally coin- plains of indolent dispositions ; and the extensive range of his moral affections is elucidated by an incident which he mentions in a letter to George, dated Paris, 13th December 1818 : " I have been overwhelmed," says he, " with letters, and yet none of them are from the family. Although it is pleasant to find ' people pleased with people,' yet I would not like as many every month. The old porteress of the hotel, seeing them coming daily for a while, said to Collie, in giving one to me, ' Ah ! que Monsieur Combe est aime ! On 1'envoye des tas de lettres !'" This feature of his character remained unchanged during his life. In human suffering, happiness, and progress, he took a lively interest, which never slumber- ed ; and it led him into an extensive correspondence, from which the pages of the present work will be en- riched. Another trait of character may be adverted to in connection with this subject. There was in him an earnestness and affectionateness of disposition, an intellectual perspicacity, and a general soundness of judgment, which thus early inspired his correspondents with respect as well as liking for him ; and led them to preserve his letters to an extent probably rare in the case of so young a man, and one wholly undistinguished by name, connections, or prospects. In the same letter he continues : " My friend C (whom he had lately introduced to his family) tells me that you are very kind to him. I knew you would be so, and I may add that all that kindness to him is set down in my book as more than the same kindness to myself ; for although in general suffi- ciently attentive to myself, yet I can on due occasions prefer another. When I think on the kindness already shewn to me, I cannot express the satisfaction I feel. Indeed you could never imagine that such a happy interior existed under the covering of such a sober face." His letters abound with remarks on the feelings of LETTERS FROM PARIS. 71 the French towards the English at the time of his residence in Paris, and he mentions many amusing in- stances of the forms in which their mortification and dislike manifested themselves. In general, he bore their ebullitions, both general and particular, with equanimity; but occasionally the excess of their vanity, and the de- grading nature of the charges brought by them against his country, roused his indignation. In a letter to George, dated 22d September 1818, he says : " They will not lay aside their national vanity for ten minutes at a time, nor speak to one as one of themselves. They cannot forget for a moment that you are of a different nation. To he everlastingly annoyed with glory on all occasions, in philosophical discussions at the Institute, in medical lectures, and everywhere else, is too much of a good thing. Put glory where glory should be ; hut glory and philoso- phy make a curious compound, and glory and glauber-salts are more ridiculous still." * * * " There is," he adds, " a difference be- tween the conformation of the forehead of a French man and that of a French woman ; the former slopes backwards from the nose rapidly, indicating deficiency in the reflective organs, while the woman's fore- head is much more perpendicular." This remark is correct ; and the fact that, in Paris, women exercise a greater influence in proportion to that wielded by men, than women do in corresponding situ- ations in England, harmonizes with it. This difference in the development of the reflective organs in the male and female heads does not generally prevail in the latter country. During the winter and spring of 1818-1819, Andrew continued the study of his profession and of collateral branches of knowledge, with the same ardour which he had manifested in the preceding year; but it is unneces- sary to enter into farther details. In some of his letters, however, he introduces observations which appear to be worth preserving, and a few of these shall now be selected. In a letter to George, dated Paris, 8th February 1819, 72 ESQUIROL'S LECTURES ON INSANITY. after describing the extent to which the views of insanity presented by Dr Esquirol, in his lectures at the Sal- petriere, harmonize with the views of the physiology of the brain which he had learned from Dr Spurzheim, he continues : " Almost all Esquirol 's cases were strong proofs of the truth of Phre- nology, and many of his cures were effected by treating the diseased faculty according to its nature. One very remarkable fact which he mentioned, was the apparent 'penchant irresistible' to do certain acts ; and in these cases he seldom saw an aliene who drew his conclusions badly. It was in general upon the facts that he was mistaken ; and supposing the facts to be as the aliene apprehended them, his conclu- sions were perfectly sound. For example, at la Salpetriere, a middle- aged country woman and a young girl slept in the same cell. The girl, although generally quiet, had a strait waistcoat on. One morn- ing she was found dead, and the other sitting, with her arms crossed, quite composedly looking at her. Marks of violence were found on the body. The woman was asked, Did you kill the girl ? ' Qu'oui !' dit elle. ' Mais pourquoi ?' ' Je n'en sais rien,' said she ; and no effort could obtain from her the specification of a single motive. In the course of time she recovered her reason, and Bsquirol being anxious to know why she had killed the girl (the more so, as the irresistibility of impulses was making a noise at the time, and hers was regarded as an example in point), questioned her cautiously, when she plainly and openly made the following statement : ' The girl,' said she, ' wished to mount up into my bed; I believed her to be a man, who came to insult me. She persisted, and I resisted. I struck her blows with my fist ; she fell to the ground and could not rise. She died.' ' Behold !' said Esquirol, ' true reasoning, false facts, ignorance of motives at the time, and unconsciousness of them afterwards, while the insanity lasted.' The striking feature of these cases is, that during the disease the in- dividual is unconscious of his motives, and says, with every appear- ance of truth, that he does not know why he did the deed ; but after his recovery, what he was unconscious of during his illness becomes clear and present to his mind. How can we explain these phenomena ?" Esquirol appears to have regarded the foregoing case as one purely of intellectual delusion ; but if a con- jecture might be hazarded as to the source of the wo- man's mistake, the present writer would be disposed ESQUIROL'S LECTURES ON INSANITY. 73 to assign it to a morbid excitement of the organs of Destmctiveness, which at once impelled her to violence, and blinded her understanding to the circumstances in which she was placed. In the trials of homicidal maniacs which have taken place in this country, there has occasionally been a con- flict of opinion between the judges and the jury concern- ing the character of the act charged in the indictment. The legal definition of insanity requires aberration of the intellectual faculties as an essential feature of the malady, and does not recognise irresistibility of impulse as insanity if the intellect be free from delusions. Nevertheless, in some of the cases prosecuted as mur- ders, the jury, although no intellectual derangement could be proved, returned a verdict of insanity, from a moral conviction that the action was that of a madman. The subject is involved in much obscurity ; but such light as Phrenology is able to shed on it will be found in the Phrenological Journal, vol. xvi., p. 182, in a notice of the trial of Daniel M'Xaughten.* Andrew observes, that Esquirol " has an excellent head, is a fine, pleasant, gentlemanly man, of about thirty-five or forty years of age. How I wish that I had an hour or two in my seat at your right hand at dinner, to discuss all these subjects. ' What!' you will exclaim, ' Andrew discuss ?' Yes, I think that, notwithstanding my quiet turn, I could now speak for an hour or two very well."f He continues : " I have just read the French translation of Lady Morgan's work on France. What a deal of imagination ! She has seen much of what * See also pp. 304, 305, and 386 of same volume ; and vol. xvii., pp. 33, 36, 89, 101, 102, 292 ; xviii., 375 ; xix., 227, 249, 347 ; xx., 162. On the general subject of insanity in relation to crime, Dr Combe published two papers, in vol. Hi., p. 365, and vol. x., p. 121. j- In the Phrenological Journal, vol. viii., p. 654, Dr Combe, in an article in answer to Dr Prichard's objections against Phrenology, discusses Dr Esquirol's facts and opinions on the merits of the science. 74 PROFESSOR ANDRIEUX. she describes with her oculi interni ; and Loth she and Sir Charles, who writes three appendices, are often at open war with my ideas. The con- clusions of the lady and her husband are sometimes at variance also with their own facts, and their translator respects neither of them ! " In mentioning the lectures of Andrieux on French literature, he commends not only his discriminative talents as a critic, but his justice and impartiality in dealing with historical personages and events. As an example, he reports part of his lecture on Joan of Arc. The Professor condemned, as inconsistent with all cor- rect notions of beauty, the heavy armour, shield, and large stand of colours usually thrust upon the person of the Maid of Orleans by painters and sculptors ; and then proceeded to mention her history. " ' On dit que ce sont les Anglais qui 1'ont sacrifice ; on 1'a toujours dit ; mais ce n'est pas vrai. Ce sont les Fran?ais euxmemes qui 1'ont perdue. The Duke of Burgundy sold her to the Duke of Luxem- bourg ; he to another. Then the Bishop of Beauvais insisted on try- ing her for sorcery. Judges were sent from Paris. They condemned her to be burnt. Nor,' said he, ' was this all ; but the learned facul- ties of Paris were consulted, and all of them reported in favour of burning her except the faculty of medicine and another,' of which I did not hear distinctly the name. The English auditors were greatly pleased with this piece of justice ; but the Frenchmen hung their heads, and not a sound was heard in approbation of the speaker." Afterwards, he observes that " in another part of his lectures Professor Andrieux exposed the bad effects of conducting education by means of emulation, and condemned the evil passions called forth by vanity. ' On nous reproche,' dit il, ' a nous autres Francais d'avoir beaucoup de vauite. II faut en convenir, nous sommes tres vains,' " &c. In forming this estimate of emulation as a motive in education, Professor An- drieux was in advance of his age ; for, even in the present day, few teachers have faith in the pleasures and advan- FRENCH SOCIETY. 75 tages of knowledge, as capable of affording to the young sufficient motives to exertion, nnless reinforced by strong appeals to egotism and the selfish passions. They exclude from schools the principles and objects of science, which form the natural stimulants to the faculties, and substitute in their place languages and other studies, for which comparatively few individuals have a taste. Hence, extraneous and inferior motives become necessary to supply the stimulus to study, which nature, if permitted to enter the schools, would afford. Andrew continues : " I have read Mr Buxton's work (on Prison Discipline), and in re- gard to Xewgate at least, his description falls short of the truth. It is really a hell upon earth ; and never did the Reverend David Dick- son's descriptions of that abode bring home to my mind the horrors of pandemonium so forcibly as did my visit to Xewgate. Last summer I tried to gain admittance to two prisons here, bat was repulsed, ex- cept on complying with one of two conditions, either, 1st, to commit a crime, and come with an order from the Prefet to receive and detain me ; or, 2<%, to come with an order from him to see the prison and get out again. For the first, I have no inclination ; but I shall again try the second." In another letter he says : " I have this winter seen a good deal more of French society than last year, and in a greater variety of circles. I have observed some things that appeared to me rather droll in a polite nation, and one which is constantly accusing as of barbarism and rudeness in send- ing the ladies away to the drawing-room after dinner, and leaving them there so long by themselves. I refer to the entire separation of the ladies from the gentlemen in some of their evening societies. This is one point in which Lady Morgan and I agree. At "s house, where good society is found, the ladies always range them- selves on one side of the fire-place, and the gentlemen on the other ; and often I have seen, for three hours, not a word pass from the one party to the other. Nay more, I have seen the gentlemen form a ring on their own side, and thus stand for an hour or two. one half of 76 LETTERS FROM PARIS. them, of course, with their backs to the ladies. This, Lady Morgan observed, ' chez les princesses et gens du bon ton aussi.' Such man- ners are worse than the English fashion of sending the ladies away to a room by themselves. " By the way, I must tell you a great compliment paid to me by Monsieur and Madame . I often walk with them and their daughter in the Champs Elysees ; but one day lately they al- lowed me to conduct Mademoiselle to the Mint alone. It is very un- common in Paris for a young lady to be permitted to walk alone with any gentleman except a brother ; but Monsieur said that he knew me to be Men sage" " I fear that I shall never be able to like the French. So often, so very often, do we meet with rubs and spite against the English, that it is hard to bear, and harder still to love the authors of such abuse. I can admire in them all that I find better than in our people at home, and there is much to be admired. I can give them credit, also, for many good qualities : but I cannot like them. I have never heard a Frenchman abuse Scotland ; generally they speak well of it ; but when they speak evil of ' les Anglais,' of course the Scotch are in- cluded. When they praise Scotland to me, I am much inclined to regard it as all flattery, and to believe that, behind my back, they would praise England to an Englishman, if they wished particularly to please him." At the time when these letters were written, the humiliation of France, by the then recent capture of Paris and the dethronement of Napoleon, greatly ex- asperated the French people against the British ; but, nevertheless, there was probably a certain degree of sincerity in their commendations of Scotland ; for his- torical recollections of the ancient alliances between the latter country and France still lingered in the me- mories of the French, and gave rise to a more kindly feeling towards Scotchmen, as portions of the British nation, than that entertained towards the English them- selves. George had remarked, in a letter, that one of An- drew's Parisian fellow-students, who had subsequently come to Edinburgh, was very amiable, but appeared to be rather deficient in general information. In allusion LETTERS FROM PARIS. 77 to this subject, Andrew, on 8th March 1819, wrote as follows : " Before left Paris to go to Edinburgh, my pen had begun to trace the very observations you make on him ; but I stopped short, thinking it unnecessary to do so, as you would soon find out the extent of his attainments, and judge for yourself. My other friend is even worse than he. With respect to general information, Collie has a great advantage over us all. He is not at first so agreeable as . It was some weeks before I liked him at all ; but after I did know him, the more I saw of him I liked him the better ; and he is one of the few persons of whose company I am never tired, at whatever time, place, or occasion, we meet. It is since becoming acquainted with him that I have perceived my own deficiency in that respect also, which I must endeavour to supply, with your assistance, at my return. Here, I have neither leisure from my professional studies, friends to direct me, nor books." In the same letter he adds : " I am sure it will astonish you to hear, that at the season of the Carnival, when everybody is merry, I went to the masked ball at the opera, with three of the Passy ladies, and three gentlemen. All the ladies wore masks, and Mr A also used one, as he was afraid of being insulted, if known to be an Englishman. Collie and I went without masks, trusting to our tongues, and, if necessary, our fists, for protection. A mask speedily addressed me, ' Ah, Monsieur Bifteck, comment trouTez vous le rosbif ?' I answered, ' Je le trouve miserable, il faut aller en Angleterre pour le rosbif;' on which the mask turned away. It was one of our own party, who, to play off a trick upon me, changed his mask and dress; and when he rejoined the ladies, he told them that Combe's face became red, and he saw that his blood was rising, and thought it wise to go no farther. But he was in a mistake, I like a joke about bifteck and rosbif with a Frenchman very welL" " I must add, that the ladies at Passy, one of whom, Miss S., has a large organ of Wit, have discovered that I am neither triste nor splenetic. That is fort drole, as few strangers doubt my being the one or other. I remember well an old gentleman in black, in the hotel at Calais, saying to me, in a slow, serious tone, suited, as he thought, to the person he was addressing, ' Have you been studying long for a preacher ? Have you taken orders yet ? Where do you expect to get a church ? ! ! ' It is curious, too, that I am just now suffering a little from teeth-cutting, for the first time, that I recollect of, in my life." 78 DEATH OF MRS COMB. " I have examined the Institution for the Blind here, from the cel- lars to the garret, seen the boys at work, and obtained a large folio sheet of their printing, and greatly admire the Institution and their attainments. " Have you mentioned your project of lecturing on Phrenology to any one ? I should be afraid to open my mouth* before half a score of people. You seem to be preparing in good time." He occasionally overworked himself, and was visited by languor (which he mistook for an idle disposition) and depression. On 28th March 1819 he writes : " I was depressed about a fortnight, and gradually reco- vered ; but now I am in better spirits." Although at this time he had nearly completed what would generally be reckoned a good professional educa- tion, yet he had not learned from any of his preceptors the practical application of the principles of medicine to the regulation of the habits of daily life ; and, both then and subsequently, he suffered serious evils from practical inattention to the laws of health. In the course of years he profited by his sufferings, traced them to their causes, and devoted his energies to teach- ing others how to apply the knowledge of the human constitution supplied by science, to warding off, as well as to recovering from, disease. In the spring of 1819 the health of his mother be- gan to decline, but for some time no serious appre- hensions were entertained concerning her condition. Her ordinary medical attendant treated her for de- rangement of the digestive system, and anticipated an improvement of health with the advance of sum- mer. Her son George, however, at length suspected the existence of chronic inflammation of the liver, and requested that Dr James Gregory might be called in to consultation. He came, and confirmed this sus- picion, and treated her accordingly. But the disease DEATH OF MRS COMB. 79 speedily passed into the acute form, and after enduring great suffering, which she bore with heroic fortitude and unbroken equanimity, she died on the 8th day of May 1819. The shock was the more severely felt by her family, as never previously had they known her to be seriously indisposed. The following letter expresses Andrew's feelings on receiving the intelligence of her death. PARIS, 16th May 1819. " MY DEAB GEOEGE, It is with much grief I have to-day learnt the death of my excellent mother. I received yours at three o'clock, and at this moment, nine P.M., I can hardly believe, and hardly con- ceive, what I find hut too legibly written on that sheet. " Little did I imagine, from your last letter, that such an event was to happen, although I had some suspicions of a more serious ill- ness than you mentioned, even from your manner of expressing it. Then, I really believed it was only a slight bilious attack, and re- pressed my suspicions as destitute of foundation ; and even up to this forenoon, I had been smiling and delighting myself with what was to pass between my mother and me at my return, now drawing nearer, in that same parlour where I had taken, it appears, a last, and, I own, a bitter farewell of her. That farewell is fixed in my mind as if it had happened yesterday. My mother was much affected. You say she always thought that was the last time she was to see me.* At my departure, I hardly looked forward to the period of my return, and often I believed I should never see any of you again. It is only within the last six months that I have looked forward with confidence to that time ; and with a confidence every day increasing as the time drew nearer. Often hare I expressed my thankfulness for the good health and comfort of the family. Many and many a time have I been seated in the parlour at Livingston's Yards, with my mother in the arm- chair at the fireside, holding an ideal conversation, and amusing her with all the wonders I had seen, and perhaps causing a smile of satis- faction from my improved health and strength. Only two days ago, in writing a long letter to Jean (which I have not sent away), I told her to ' Give my mother my best respects.' With what pleasure, too, * Mrs Comb feared that Andrew would die of consumption in Paris, and when he left home, she thought that she should never see him again. Shortly before her own death she mentioned this impression. 80 DEATH OF MRS COMB. since I came here, have I so often found myself in Livingston's Yards' parlour between sermons ! Often had I figured to myself the satisfac- tion I might one day afford her in her little ailments and sufferings, by my attention, at least, if not by my power of relieving them. This hope and this pleasure are now fled, and never shall I have an oppor- tunity of shewing my gratitude for what she has done for me. " Still, to me it is no small consolation, that though absent, I was in some measure present and useful, from the services, attentions, and kindness of my friend C ; and it is pleasing to me to learn, that in her last moments she was soothed by the attentions of my friend. Give C my most sincere thanks ; I will like him the better for it. " I cannot figure to myself that my mother is dead. I left her in the parlour, and there I involuntarily go to seek her. Had I but seen her once more, it would have been a melancholy satisfaction. " After all, I thank you for not having told me of her state, as I would have been anxious to hear every day ; and though the blow be heavier, better so than fourteen days' anxiety and uncertainty." In subsequent letters he makes frequent and tender allusions to his mother, one example of which may "be cited. Writing, on the 4th of June, to his sister Jean, he says : " In returning from Passy we had a grand thunder-storm. In the middle of the Champ de Mars the death of my mother struck me with more force even than on receiving George's letter. There was some- thing so solemn and grand in the awful peals of thunder and broad sheets of lightning, diversified occasionally by zig-zag flashes, that my imagination became excited, and at every flash I gazed at the clouds as if to penetrate through them, and, by the vivid lightning, once more to see her whom I fancied to be stationed beyond them." To this letter he added a postscript in shorthand, addressed to George, which does so much credit to his affectionate and just appreciation of his sister's merits, that it may be pardonable to quote it here, although it relates to another member of the family : " I always," says he, " had a favourable opinion of our sister Jean's talents for letter-writing, but her last letter, and one which she sent to me about six months ago, have given me a higher estimate of them still. I read these letters often, and particularly the last one, and CONTINUES HIS STUDIES AT PARIS. 81 always with pleasure. I would tell her this plainly, had she not re- quested me not to take any notice of what she said. But I am so pleased that I cannot remain silent, and I therefore write in short- hand, and address it to you, to give vent to my feelings/' The members of this family were unfortunately too familiar with death ; and on several trying occasions had received from their parents the most striking prac- tical lessons of patience and resignation under the rend- ing asunder of the cords of domestic affection. Andrew, therefore, endeavoured to find consolation to his wound- ed feelings in the discharge of the duties imposed on him bv his circumstances, and by degrees his usual serenity of mind returned. In a letter also addressed to Jean, he says : " Mademoiselle has been ill. but is now recovering. I passed an evening with the family lately, and she desired me to tell you that, as soon as she is well, she will write to you, and tell you ' que je suis bien mechant, et que je me moque de tout ;' but I assured her, that you have so high an opinion of my solemnity that you will not believe a word of it. Her father is attending a course of lectures on Xatu- ral Philosophy, and he said to me lately, ' Spend your last Louis, if necessary, in acquiring knowledge ; what you learn is worth more than the moi>ey. I am, as you see me (well to do), but I would give half of what I possess for knowledge, which I am now too old to learn.' This gentleman was a German by birth, but long settled in Paris, where he had acquired a fortune/' In the same letter he says : " Tell my niece Marion, that I shall scold her well on my return. She was in a hurry, she says, when she wrote to me ; but that is no excuse for bad writing. It is just falling out of the frying-pan into the fire. If I were near her, I should scold her for being in a hurry, as she knows that what is done in a hurry, is never well done. And, besides, she had no business to be in a hurry at all. I would rather hare received a good, well-written, sensible letter, such as she generally writes, although it arrived twenty-four hours later than the one she sent, a day earlier. However, I excuse her this time, in con- sideration of its being the first offence." F 82 CONTINUES HIS STUDIES AT PARIS. During the summer of 1819 he attended a course of lectures on midwifery ; and in a letter to George he writes : " The course of midwifery which I am at present following, would afford materials for the finest piece of burlesque, or mock heroic writ- ing that ever was produced. The matter is excellent; but the profes- sor has a great organ of Veneration, and not a little Wit ; and these he contrives to combine in his discourses. He is a very sensible man ; but he sees ' le cote ridicule' of everything. He told us, for example, * * * * " He told us also, that a young woman, on the occasion of her first confinement in the Hospital, was so asto- nished by her sufferings, that she bawled out, ' Murder !' ' murder !' as loud as she could roar ; and continued so urgently to utter that cry, that at length the guard forced their way into the ward, and demanded who was killing the woman ? The students explained the circumstances to them ; when one of the soldiers took out his snuff- box, gave the patient a pinch, and, addressing her at the same time, said, ' Courage, Madame, un peu de courage !' and then retired." In a letter dated 29th June, he mentions Dr Gall, and remarks that " He speaks French like a Highlandman or Welshman speaking English. He is delivering a public course of lectures, at the request, I believe, of the Minister of the Interior. His lecture-room is much crowded. I should like very much to attend him, in order to learn how far he and Dr Spurzheim differ ; but his hour interferes with that of another course of lectures in which I am already engaged, and I am thus prevented from attending." In the same letter he makes the following remarks on some of his own mental faculties : " Did you observe how much of the organ of Tune I had, before leaving home ?* I was always fond of some kinds of music ; princi- pally of what the French call enjouee (an expression which I cannot translate into English), and also of sweet melodious melancholy music. I may add that the organ appears to have grown a little. Collie * The organ was moderately developed in his head. STATE OF HIS HEALTH. 83 says it is doubled in size since I came here, but I think that it is only larger. I cannot, however, judge correctly of my own head. " But my Self-Esteem, Love of Approbation, and Cautiousness, are my troublesome organs, which I should like to have diminished a little ; particularly the Love of Approbation and Cautiousness, which are, I think, after laziness, my greatest enemies. A man requires a little of Self-Esteem. not only to keep his own place in the world, but to save him from doing mean actions. My Destructiveness, too, is sometimes troublesome. I have a great desire to know my own head ; but I cannot examine it well without taking it off, which I am very little inclined to do at present. This letter is very full of myself, and I beg of you to excuse my bad breeding in being egotistical : but I am in the dumps ; and when a man naturally grave is in that state, you cannot expect from him either merriment or gaiety." The organs of Self-Esteem, Love of Approbation, Cautiousness, and Conscientiousness, when all largely and equally developed, give rise, in early life, to shy- ness, bashfuliiess, or mauvaise honte. It is the fear of compromising himself, in the opinion of himself and others, by doing or saying something unworthy of him- self, that causes the embarrassment in an individual thus constituted. Some persons, however, are shy from a constitutional feebleness of cerebral organiza- tion, which makes them shrink instinctively from all contact with unknown circumstances. In this and some other letters, Andrew accuses him- self of " laziness," and mentions his being in " the dumps." His constitution was naturally remarkably active, and the " laziness " was probably mere lassi- tude, arising from exhaustion of the brain after over- exertion. We have already seen evidence of his cease- less activity in study ; to the effects of which must be added the fatigue and exhaustion occasioned by fre- quent and extensive pedestrian excursions during the heat of summer, undertaken partly in pursuit of botani- cal objects, and partly for social enjoyment in visiting his friends in the environs of Paris. In his letters, 84 VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. he makes no allusion to the natural connection be- tween these exertions and the " laziness" which he felt. That his course of life was the cause of that feeling, is rendered more probable by his letter of the 29th of June, in which he says : " I have been making too much blood, and it has assailed my head. It began by a kind of lethargy and oppression, with weakness even to shaking sometimes ; and one day I had, during five minutes, dimness of sight and confusion of ideas. Starvation and salts have relieved me. I am not sick, for I have always been at my classes and other occupa- tions as before, with this difference, that I fell asleep once or twice in an hour. I have got a severe cold also, by night attendance at the Lying-in Hospital. But don't be afraid ; I am not going to walk out of the world this time yet." It is deserving of remark, that in none of his letters does he allude to having applied his scientific knowledge to the regulation of his own habits, with the view of preserving his health, as he subsequently did, when, by increased sagacity and experience, he had discovered its prophylactic uses. He had not been taught to make that application by his professional instructors; and, impelled by the ardour of youth, and not yet rendered wise by experience, he proceeded to gratify his tastes nearly as unmindful of the laws of health as if none such had existed. After having completed his studies, instead of seeking temporary relaxation to recruit his diminished energies, he and his friend Mr Collie left Paris on the 20th of July 1819, to make a tour in Switzerland and the north of Italy. Mr Collie (a native of Aberdeenshire) was older than Andrew, and, having been in India, had seen more of the world. Andrew thus describes him : " Mr Collie has a good, large head, well cultivated ; and he is re- markably industrious. I have been lucky in becoming acquainted with him, as I have been assisted both by his advice and example ; and he is so much of a friend as to tell me at once when I am doing wrong." VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 85 Mr Collie was subsequently selected, on account of his scientific attainments, to act as surgeon of His Ma- jesty's ship Blossom, under the command of Captain Beechey, in her voyage of discovery to Behring's Straits. He died in 1836.* The two friends travelled in the diligence from Paris to Miilhausen, and afterwards walked over a great part of Switzerland, carrying knapsacks on their backs, and sending their heavy luggage from town to town by the public conveyances. They visited Schaifhausen, Constance, Zurich, Lucerne, Bern, Lausanne, Geneva, and Chamouni ; travelling thirty or forty English miles a day, often under a burning sun, and occasionally in storm and rain. They crossed the Simplon, visited Milan and Turin, and Andrew returned to Paris by Lyons. Andrew kept a journal of his travels, and wrote letters, which are still preserved; but they present few remarks sufficiently new or characteristic to ren- der it necessary to introduce them into the present work. He observes, that he must be deficient in the mental qualities which constitute a poet ; for although he had vividly enjoyed the beautiful and sublime scenery of Switzerland, he could never rise to the pitch of inspira- tion necessary to write verses. He mentions with gra- titude the great attentions he had received from Mr Meyer of Zurich and his family, one of the younger members of which had studied in Edinburgh and been a friend of his brother George, and another had been his own companion in Paris. This friendship continued till Andrew's death. The following extract from his journal affords an example of his relish for the ludicrous : " In the public library at Zurich, there is a bas-relief of the northern 86 VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. half of Switzerland, constructed, with great labour, by Miiller. It is made of Paris plaster, and is from twelve to fourteen feet long, by eight broad. All the towns, villages, castles, rivers, hills, mountains, &c., are accurately represented from nature. The highest mountain is. perhaps, eight or ten inches high, and has its glaciers as the real one has. It is placed on a large table, and about four feet higher is a wooden flat roof, like the top of a coach, supported by pillars. An Eng- lishman, as they told me, visited it about fourteen days before we saw it. The woman who conducted him, left him alone for a few minutes, while he was examining it. At her return, imagine her astonishment to find the gentleman coolly crawling on all fours, over lakes, moun- tains, rivers, and glaciers, carrying villages and towns before him, with more rapidity than the most violent storm, and ruining whole cantons with the utmost sangfroid ! At the exclamation of the woman, he raised his head suddenly and bruised it against the skies ! One foot was pointed down, resting on the lake of Constance ; and the knee of the other leg pressed upon Righi. Like the great Jove him- self, his head was hovering over the highest mountains. Imagine to yourself the extent of country lying between his inferior extremities ! You will naturally wish to know what he was doing there. He was surveying the road which he had already travelled, and exploring a a passage over a mountain which he meant to attempt in a few days. The woman called out in German [of which he did not understand one word], that he had ' ruined the half of Switzerland,' and scolded him soundly. He stood listening, mouth open, and quite cool, as if he had done nothing amiss ! Such is the description given to me. The account is, I believe, exaggerated, as I did not find many of the towns and villages damaged ; but after seeing the model and the traces of his visit, the incident appeared to me so ludicrous, that I left the library with my ribs aching from the laughter it had excited." His disregard of the laws of health at this time is shewn in the following passage of his Journal : " On reaching the top of the Simplon, we found the snow, which had fallen during the night, about 200 feet lower than the road, and flakes of snow still fell with the rain. We were wet to the knees, and quite benumbed ; but this made us walk the quicker. About half way we stopped for breakfast, but, from the coldness of our feet, we could not sit more than half an hour. AVe walked on at the rate of four miles an hour, and, in ll hours from starting, reached Domo d'Ossola, being a distance of 42 English miles, twelve of them ascent to a height of 6000 feet, and thirty descending. At our arrival, we VISIT TO MILAN AND TURIN. 87 were more famished than fatigued ; having found nothing to eat but one cutlet since setting out. Collie became sick, and could not sup. I did not eat much either. Next day, we breakfasted three times for it, and dined twice.* " Xext morning at five o'clock we set out, and after a walk of 23 miles, visited the Borromean Islands in the Lago Maggiore. "We hired a boat to carry us to Sesto, 24 miles further on our road ; and there we engaged a superb caleche to drive us to Milan, 25 miles dis- tant. We arrived there at three P.M., on the 30th of August, and drove to the Grand Albergo Imperiale. At the sight of it, my money- belt was seized with involuntary spasmodic contractions, and sympa- thetically felt an approaching absorption of its solid contents. In an instant we were surrounded by a host of servants. The master him- self appeared, and called to a waiter, ' Detachez les baggages.' The waiter ran behind the caleche, but finding nothing there, he first stared, and then made the tour of the vehicle. Next he looked into the box below the coachman's seat, certain to find the luggage there ! But no ! he was again disappointed. Addressing me with a curious expression of countenance, he said, ' Et les baggages de Monsieur ?' I pointed to the seat of the carriage. Thinking I meant the top, he mounted, but found nothing there either ! He next turned to Col- lie, and said, ' Et les baggages de Monsieur ?' Collie told him to look within the caleche -. He did so ; and the mountain brought forth a mouse ! Out came our two small packages, containing only the barest necessaries, which we had carried with us in our walking journey. Seeing such a magnificent hotel, we told the master plainly that we were afraid that we had made a mistake, and that his style was be- yond the dimensions of our purses. He politely said, Xo ; and gave us two excellent apartments at the same rate as we had elsewhere paid for a single room, not equal to one of them. " We set off for Turin on the 2d September ; arrived there on the 3d ; left it on the 6th for Lyons ; which again we left on the 14th, Mr Collie for Auvergne, and I for Paris. I arrived at Paris on the 19th, safe and sound, after a most satisfactory trip." After taking a kind and affectionate farewell of his friends in Paris, he returned, by Dieppe and Brighton, to London, where he arrived in the end of October. In * The reader will find a forcible exposition of the errors and dan- gers of such proceedings in Dr Combe's Physiology applied to Health and Education, chap, vi., p. 177, 13th edition. 88 KETUitNS TO LONDON. a letter to George, dated London, 10th November 181 9, he writes as follows : " Whatever may have been the cause, I certainly have been sad since coming here ! After my return from Switzerland, I almost thought I was to be more lively and more gay for life. I remarked the difference myself. In company or out of it, I was all life, acti- vity, and fun, except for about one week. I was more communicative, or talkative, if you will (without a word of our journey), relished pleasant society exceedingly, and had not half so serious a look as usual. I was surprised and pleased at the change, as were many among my friends. One gave one reason for it, and another another, while 1 could give none at all. But, alas, the golden age is gone ! No longer does the sight of me make the beholder prepare to smile. No longer have I the same flow of spirits. No, they are down nearly at zero, though this afternoon they were raised 3f degrees by your letter." He ascribes his depression to the damp air and fogs of London, adds, that he rejoices in thinking over the scenery and incidents of his Swiss tour, and concludes by saying : " I am daily more and more pleased that we stretched across the Simplon. It is a source of plea- sure and satisfaction which most amply repays mv fa- tigue." It is probable, making due all allowance for the influence of the fogs, that this depression was only another example of cerebral exhaustion consequent on excessive excitement and exertion. Writing to George on the 26th November, he men- tions that on arriving in London he was anxious to at- tend a course of lectures on the practice of medicine, one on surgery, and an hospital with clinical lectures ; but after trying the lectures for two or three weeks, he found nothing that he wanted except at Mr Abernethy's and Mr Guthrie's, both on surgery, and both delivered on the same nights. " I went," says he, " to Mr Abernethy's lectures, which are deli- vered only twice a-week, and was much gratified indeed. 1 have visited one of the dispensaries, the dissecting-rooms, and gone occasionally to RETURNS TO LONDON. 89 the hospitals to see all the surgeons of eminence ; but the courses be- gin here on the 1st of October, and I arrived only on the 29th, and could not commence attendance for several days. Moreover, the lec- tures are delivered only three times a week, and finish in twelve or fourteen weeks, and are, therefore, very superficial. I really think, therefore, that I could employ myself more usefully at home, at a much less expense, and undoubtedly more comfortably. This uncer- tainty and disappointment kept me debating in iny own mind what I should do, and I felt, like Mahomet's coffin, suspended between Paris and Edinburgh ; but, after serious deliberation, I have resolved to make a descent on you immediately after arranging necessary affairs.'' He describes the reception, in such circles as he had access to in London, of his brother George's " Essays on Phrenology," then just published, and concludes : kt Once known, the work will stand on its own legs, and repay all the cost you have incurred in printing and publishing it." Thirty years' experience has confirmed this prediction. " The following passage," says he, " struck me on reading Verri : ' II riso non viene mai sul labbro dell' uomo se non quando si fa qualche confronto di se stesso con un altro con proprio vantaggio ; e il riso e il segnale del trionfo dell' amor proprio paragonato.' At first I re- garded it as foolish, but I was surprised to find, on reflection, that I could not adduce a single exception to its truth ; nor can I yet." Nevertheless, there are numerous exceptions. A vain boy will laugh when he is unexpectedly praised. A boy in whom the organs of Destructiveuess are large, and those of Benevolence are small, will laugh heartily when he sees any one severely hurt : an acquisitive boy will laugh when unexpectedly presented with half-a- crowu. Laughter, therefore, may proceed from the un- expected gratification of a variety of other faculties be- sides that of Self-Esteem. His friend Mr Collie rejoined him in Paris, accom- panied him to London, and remained there after he left the latter city. Writing to that gentlemen from Edin- 90 RETURNS TO EDINBURGH. burgh on the 20th of December 1819, he describes his embarkation for Leith, and his arrival in Edinburgh, as follows : " At the boat stairs, on the Thames, I mistook the thin ice for dry freestone. The steps were slippery, my feet went from beneath me, and I was sliding involuntarily into the water, when I seized hold of the bow of the ' Ocean's' boat, which came to carry me into the smack, and which just at that instant arrived near enough to be grasped. Being in the dark, and not a soul near me but the man in that boat, I really thought I was going to quit ' earth's troubled waters for a colder stream.' " * * " I arrived, then, without being drowned, and stood on deck admiring the banks and braes of Cale- donia. I trotted up from Leith in anxious expectation ; but when I came to the point where the road divides, and where one street leads to my brother's, and one to my mother's, I felt pain take the place of anxiety. Often in Paris I had thought and dreamed of that point ; and fancied to which I should first turn. I always coloured vividly the meeting with my mother, and figured to myself her smile of satis- faction and happiness. At that point I felt that the tie connecting me to her was torn asunder for ever, and much of the pleasure of my return taken away. Before reaching my brother's I got more col- lected. I found my sister alone, and tapped at the window. She let me in, but my heart was full. I could not speak. The first sight of her brought my mother, and her worth and loss, to my keenest recol- lection. I sat down, but for twenty minutes could not master my feelings enough to speak. My sister was much affected. After some time the emotion subsided. I found all well and thriving. I went up to the brewery and found my other sister alone, and my mother's chair empty, where I had left her, with such a different expectation. Never till my actual arrival could I, in common thinking, believe that she was gone for ever. Often till then was I in imagination telling her what I had been doing, and watching the kind expression of her face. Her portrait, too, was there : but excuse me, Collie I have said more than enough. " The people here are in a terrible pother about the radicals. Every gentleman who does not join the volunteers is set down as a black-neb, i.e., disaffected ; and there being no troops here, the gentle- men do garrison duty, and are hard drilled. The yeomanry were all turned out, and marched to Glasgow to overawe the discontented, and were billeted upon the inhabitants. In short, were the French landed at Leith, the authorities could do no more, and say no more, than they now do, to stultify themselves by doing and saying." FIRST ATTACK OF PCLMOJfABY DISEASE. 91 CHAPTER VII. ANDREW COMBE IS SEIZED WITH SYMPTOMS OP PULMONARY DIS- EASE IX EDINBURGH PROCEEDS TO LONDON OX HIS WAY TO THE SOUTH OF FRANCE IS FORCED TO RETURN HOME SUBSEQUENTLY SAILS FROM GREENOCK TO LEGHORN HIS VOYAGE DESCRIBED RETURN* TO SCOTLAND PASSES A SECOND WINTER IN MARSEILLES AND LEGHORN AGAIN RETURNS TO SCOTLAND. THE joy felt by Andrew and his relations on his return home in December 1819 was great, but of short dura- tion. His brother George had removed from Bank Street, and now resided in Hermitage Place, Stock- bridge, a suburb of Edinburgh then recently erected. The house enjoyed a beautiful and uninterrupted pros- pect of the country to the west, and was well sheltered from the north and east ; but the situation was low and the drainage insufficient. The bedroom which Andrew had occupied before he left Edinburgh for Paris had been little used during his absence, and he resumed possession of it on his return. In a letter to George, dated 23d January 1842, he gives the following de- scription of it, and of the influence which its condition exercised on his health. " You remark, ' How much would twenty shillings expended in coals in December 1819 have saved me of suffering, and my friends of regret ! out that ignorance alone was the cause of the omission.' It is quite true that the saving of the money had nothing whatever to do with the matter. Sixpence would have sufficed to protect me, if we had had the intelligence necessary to apply it. Being on the ground floor, and without sun in the winter months, my room was not merely cold, but the walls and bedding had imbibed that kind of damp which every unoccupied room soon acquires even in warmer seasons ; and all that was required was to have had a fire on for a couple of days 92 FIKST ATTACK Ob' DISEASE. before my return, and the mattresses and blankets placed before it to air them thoroughly. Had this precaution been used, the coldness of the weather would not have been either injurious or disagreeable. What prevented me, even in my then ignorance, from suspecting the truth, was that the sheets being quite dry, I felt nothing on first lying down, and it was only after a quarter or half an hour that a sense of chill used to steal over me, which made me draw the blan- kets closer about me, and think how cold it was. If my medical edu- cation had been rational, I would not have had any difficulty in dis- covering the nature of, and cure for, the evil ; but so drily and un- profitably was physiology then taught, that it was by far the most tiresome of all the classes which I attended, and I studied it as a sort of penance. When, in later life, I came to perceive its true nature and relations, it became as great a pleasure as it had previously been to me a bore." While due weight is given to the error here men- tioned, it is proper also to advert to the unfavourable physical condition in which Andrew returned to Edin- burgh. There is reason to believe, that both in his studies and in his excursion to Switzerland, he had drawn too largely on the stamina of his constitution ; and that his " sadness" in London proceeded partly, at least, from exhaustion, which continued after his arri- val in Scotland. He was thus predisposed to suffer from cold and damp, however applied, and to sustain serious injury from influences which a more robust con- stitution would have successfully resisted. The bad effects of these combined causes did not, however, immediately shew themselves; for during some weeks he continued apparently in his usual state of of health. On the 30th of January 1820, he wrote to his friend Mr Collie a long letter in French, describing, among other things, the vivid interest which had been excited in the Royal Medical Society by an essay read by Dr Hibbert against Phrenology. He mentions the eager crowd of visitors, the hostile arguments adduced, the answers given, and the protracted debate. In the FIRST ATTACK OF DISEASE. 93 same letter, after adverting to several facts bearing on Phrenology, he adds : " One thing is worthy of remark : My brother George has more of the organ of Language than I ; much more Ideality ; and a little less of Causality and Comparison. He easily finds words to express his ideas ; and, in reasoning viva voce, brings to his aid arguments Avhich I should not have been able to find. In a word, he has all his reasons much more at his command than I have mine, and is able to vanquish me for the moment ; but, leave me time for a little reflec- tion, or allow me to write an answer to his written arguments, and I shall accomplish more. I believe that I have more facility in learn- ing a foreign language than he has, and that I understand its idioms better; but he surpasses me in the number of words. You know my organisation (Language moderate, Imitation rather large, Caus- ality and Comparison both large : in George, Imitation is deficient). It is principally in the idioms, or in the construction of a language, that I surpass him ; but, put us both, for example, in China, without knowing a word of the language, without books to aid us, and with- out any one to instruct us, except by communication with the natives, and he would learn much more rapidly than I." The correctness of this last opinion may be doubt- ed, for Andrew's larger organ of Imitation would, in such circumstances, have probably compensated for his smaller organ of Language. On the 22d of February 1820, Andrew was one of four individuals who founded the Phrenological Society, of which, at a later period, he became an active and in- fluential supporter. The first mention which he makes of his indisposi- tion occurs in a letter dated 1st March 1820 to Mr Collie, written partly in Italian and partly in French. " For some days," says he, " I have suffered from a terrible cold, and, in consequence, am inactive and ill at ease ; excuse, therefore, the dullness of this letter." In a letter to the same gentleman, dated 27th March, he says : 94 FIRST ATTACK OF DISEASE. " My cold continues unabated : for ten days rny brother has been uneasy about me, although he does not know the worst. During some days I have had pains in the left side of the chest, extending from between the ribs to the sternum, which give me a good deal of uneasiness in the mornings. I cough, but not a great deal. On going to bed I feel myself cold perhaps for two hours, and in the morning I have considerable perspirations, &c. I have taken a variety of reme- dies without effect ; my digestive organs do not perform their duty, and I believe that that is at the bottom of my ailments. Pray give me your advice." In another letter, dated the 6th May, he informs his friend that he is no better ; that now haemoptysis is added to the other symptoms ; and that he has gone to reside with his sister Mrs Cox at Gorgie Mill, near Edinburgh, for change of air. In this letter he adds : " My brothers Abram and James have purchased a boat to try a new method of propulsion which they have invented." The result of their first experiment, and its effects on Andrew, will be afterwards stated. For a considerable time after this period, Andrew's history is that of a suffering invalid ; and many readers will probably desire that this narrative should be con- fined to a brief outline of the progress and result of the malady. There are reasons, however, for publishing his course of action more in detail, and these shall now be mentioned. One of the leading principles which Dr Combe sub- sequently taught in his works, was that the human body has been adapted by the Creator for healthy action for a period of seventy years or more ; and that it con- tains within itself provisions for resisting, and also for recovering from, the inroads of disease, which require only to be known, and respected in our habitual conduct, to insure to us immunity, to a much greater extent than is generally believed, from the evils of infirm health and DEATH OF ANDREW'S BROTHER JAMES. 95 premature decay. From the present period, his life afforded a practical commentary on this view of our con- stitution. The letters written by him during his various illnesses, are records of the physical and moral means by which he was thrice restored to personal enjoyment and practical usefulness from conditions of health which appeared all but desperate. While the description of these means may appear tedious to the robust, who never felt an ache, it will probably prove the most interest- ing, instructive, and useful portion of the present work to invalids whose maladies resemble his ; and of these the number is unfortunately large. It is true, that in his works he has frequently adduced his own personal experience in support of the doctrines which he incul- cates ; but in his letters we find examples of moral re- straint and self-denial, of patience, resignation, and equanimity, which could find no appropriate place in his published works, and which, nevertheless, contri- buted, probably as much as all his physical observances, to the happy issues which we shall be able to exhibit. These considerations, it is hoped, may serve as an apo- logy for continuing the citations from his correspond- ence. On the first appearance of his indisposition Dr James Gregory was called in as his medical adviser ; who, hav- ing recognised him as a pupil, devoted to him the most assiduous attention as a friend as well as a physician, prescribed his course of action, and encouraged him to hope for recovery. For some time no incident occurred to diversify the ordinary life of an invalid ; but on the 19th of May his younger brother James was suddenly cut off by inflammatory fever, in the twenty-first year of his age. James was a remarkably robust young man, who, in a fit of youthful enthusiasm for the sea, had made 96 STATE OF ANDREW'S HEALTH. a voyage to and from St Petersburg. Excited by the then new application of steam-power to the propelling of ships, he and his brother Abram had, as already men- tioned, fitted up a boat with paddles and machinery of their own invention, and embarked in her, with some companions, on the Frith of Forth, to try the power of the wheels. James applied his great strength, with all the ardour and energy of youth, to the task of propulsion, overheated and exhausted himself, and then cooled him- self in a chill wind. Next day he fevered, and, with- in a week after this excursion, died. This was after- wards regarded by Andrew as another life sacrificed to ignorance of the organic laws. Andrew attended his funeral, and while lowering his body into -the grave, already anticipated, as did all the other members of the family, that within a brief space they should probably return to lay him beside his brother. The writer of this Memoir recollects well the calm, firm, resigned, and touching expression of Andrew's countenance, while this painful ceremony was performing, and he felt more sympathy for the living than regret even for the dead. Andrew, writing to Mr Collie on the 24th May, " I little expected, dear friend, to follow the body of another brother to the grave ; but what uncertainty in life ! My relations and myself expected that I should be the next victim of death ; but his strength has fallen before my weakness. I was beside James the two first days of his illness, but began to suffer, and was obliged to return to the country." " Before this event I had improved in health. My pulse had fallen to 67 ; but now I am not so well. The pulse varies from 82 to 95, although to-day I feel better. I am advised again to change the air, and on the 29th May shall go to Dunblane, attended by one of my sisters." On 25th May 1820 George removed from Stockbridge to Brown Square, a locality selected chiefly with a view VOYAGE TO LONDON. 97 to Andrew's entering into practice. In a letter to Mr Collie, dated Edinburgh, the 22d June, Andrew writes: " I came home on Monday, after a three weeks' stay with my sister and niece at Dunblane. It rained daily for fourteen days, so that I was little out of doors. I am rather stouter, I believe, but not other- wise improved. I am going to consult Dr Gregory to-day about going to the South. If I do not get free of my complaints before winter, I may then make ready for the world to come. My friends are uncom- monly kind and anxious to do every thing for me. My brother George has ever been my best friend, and the best friend to all the family. He has sacrificed much in the hope of our living happy together in our later years, when I should be settled in the world. I should liko to repay him some of his kindness even in this world of woe, and but six months ago, looked forward in anticipation. However, the face of affairs is now changed. Our brother James, too, for whom he toiled, and for whose advantage he persevered in carrying on the brewing business* (to him a losing concern), is laid low r in the grave, at the very moment of the dawn of better days, and of the brightest prospect of future happiness. What a change ! But yesterday I went to my old and w T ell-remembered home, where, not long ago, the smile of wel- come, and the outstretched hands of many, ever met me at the door. That home was as a deserted house, not a soul within. The idea rushed upon my mind, ' What a change has a few years made, when sixteen of us dwelt within, and when at least one-half were ever ready to greet a visitor !' " P.S. I have seen Dr Gregory, and am to sail for London on Tuesday, and try a month or two in the country. During winter I am advised to go either to the West Indies or the Mediterranean." Accompanied by his sister Jean, he sailed for London, and took lodgings at Greenwich, where he tried carriage exercise, but found that it injured him so much, that he not only gave up using it, but abandoned the design of travelling through France to Marseilles, as a task now beyond his strength. * This alludes to George's having, by means of a head brewer and salesman, preserved the brewing business at Livingston's Yards during James's enthusiasm for the sea, in the expectation that he would one day settle and resume it. This he did, and was prosperously carry- ing it on when he died. G 98 VOYAGE TO LONDON. In a letter to George, dated 12th July, he says : " My great object in avoiding too much exercise, is to prevent even the chance of another haemoptysis, which, in my present state, might easily cause ulceration itself. Dr Gregory recommended me to be most careful as to that, and to take no more exercise than would serve to di- gest my food. This advice I have followed, and with very good effect ; for, from a kind of feverish heat and flush after eating, and often in the evening, and almost always in the morning, I now feel hardly the shadow of the former evil. My cold fits, too, have disappeared for a week past ; and I am altogether in better condition. Jean says I am fatter, and I dare say it is true." After a short stay he returned to Edinburgh by sea ; and in his " Principles of Physiology applied to the Preservation of Health" &c., he adds : " Being extremely liable to sea-sickness, I was squeamish or sick during the whole of both voyages, so much so, as to be in a state of gentle perspiration for a great part of the time. After this I became sensible, for the first time, of a slight improvement in my health and strength, and a diminution of febrile excitement." One rule which Andrew followed during this and all his subsequent ailments, deserves to be particularly mentioned. He never relied on his own skill as suf- ficient to guide him in his treatment of himself, when it was possible to obtain the benefit of other medical advice. He used to say : Phrenology has at least taught me one thing, that I have not two brains, one to suffer from the disease under which I labour, and another sound one to judge of my condition \ I cannot, therefore, rely on my own judgment in prescribing for myself. In a letter to his niece Marion Cox, dated Greenwich, 19th July, he describes the effects of carriage exercise on his health, and states his reasons for preferring a voyage to the Mediterranean, rather than one to the West Indies ; and continues : PREPARES TO SAUL TO THE MEDITERRANEAN. 99 " Tell your Uncle George, that I will be obliged to him to state all these particulars to Dr Gregory, also that I hare a pain now under the one, and then under the other scapula, and ask Aim to solve the question of my winter residence. Should he think the West Indies better, I am ready to go." This was done accordingly, and Dr Gregory preferred the Mediterranean. Andrew passed the autumn in the house of his sister, Mrs Cox, at Gorgie Mill, near Edinburgh. " Here," says he, writing to Mr Collie, on the 18th of August, " I live quietly, have abundance of milk, &c., and the benefit of exercise on horseback ; and in the evenings some friend comes to visit me. I am, in consequence, daily improving in health." Preparations were made for his departure, and on 25th August he informs the same friend, that " My sister Jean desires to accompany me in my voyage ; but I do not wish her to do so. During her whole life she has been accustomed to Iwme, and a society of numerous relations. In Greenwich even, she suffered from having only the society of a sick brother. To see her unhappy, or even not at her ease, and this on my account^ would do me more harm than her care and attention would do me good. I am accustomed to foreign manners, and I shall make acquaintances as I did in Paris." This tender consideration for other persons, amid all his own sufferings, distinguished him through life. During the autumn, his improvement in health was so conspicuous, that some one had suggested doubts about the necessity of his going to Italy. In a letter to Mr Collie, dated the 23d September, adverting to these suggestions, he says : " If I remained at home and became worse, what reflections and regrets ! In my opinion, it would be more consolatory to have done every thing possible to preserve life and then to die, than to perish with the conviction that, by acting differently, I might have saved myself. I remember well the fate of my brother Walter, who recovered during the autumn of 1813, but was allowed to resume his occupa- 100 SAILS IN THE " FAME" FROM GREENOCK FOR LEGHORN. tions in winter, relapsed, and died in the subsequent February of 1814." The ship selected for his voyage was " the Fame" of Greenock, Captain . She was a merchant brig of about 200 tons burden, but had a tolerably good cabin ; and as other invalid passengers had engaged berths in her to Leghorn, the owners agreed to lay in a proper stock of provisions adapted for their use. The day of sailing was warranted to be in September ; but from various causes it was postponed till the 16th of October. To avoid fatigue, Andrew travelled to Greenock by the Union Canal ; the rate of speed of the boats on which at that time was only four miles an hour. His brother George accompanied him, and fortunately the weather proved fine, and their fellow-passengers highly intelli- gent and agreeable. The first day they left the boat before sunset, and slept at Kilsyth, in an excellent inn, and next day reached Greenock. So thoroughly was Andrew's mind reconciled to his circumstances, and so cheerful were his dispositions, that he highly enjoyed the first day's travelling ; and in writing to George at the distance of twenty-one years, he alludes to it, and asks, " Do you remember our pleasant evening in Kil- syth inn ?" On other occasions, also, he mentions it. The following letters contain a description of his voyage. Writing from Leghorn to Mrs Cox he says : " On going on board the Fame, on the Tuesday morning, affairs were in a dreadful confusion. "We could not find room to stand, much less to sit, in the cabin, for trunks, baskets, hams, kettles, hens, and pigs. Hardly could we find room on deck. One begged you would stand aside a little, another you Avould stand forward, a third would thank you to stand back ; now a hen came cackling and flapping in your face, then a pig squeaked that you were treading on its toes. Here a goose was crying bo to the dog, and there the dog crying boiv to the goose. The captain damned the pilot, the pilot cursed the mate, and the mate in his turn sent the men to h-11. The latter black- VOYAGE DESCRIBED. 101 guarded each other, and thrashed the dogs. It was verily a confusion of tongues like unto that of Babel. The men, out of respect for their friends, were all tipsy, and the pilot was an obstinate old boy, who, with such a ' glorious' crew, found no great difficulty in running us upon a sand-bank. A number of the friends of the passengers ac- companied us the first day, and each bore his part in the harmo- nious concert. One cried, another laughed, while three or four more all spoke at once. I first thanked my lucky stars that Jean was snug at home, and then, being, as it were, an unconcerned spectator, I surveyed the scene at leisure. After much to do we got the cabin cleared a little for dinner. We sat on trunks, chairs, salt-herring barrels, or whatever came readiest. I was seated in a corner on a bar- rel of molasses, when dinner came. ' Where is the doctor,' wondered somebody. He was soon found, and immediately placed on a trunk at the head of the table, with his chin on a level with his plate. Pre- sently. 4 A seat for the doctor ; a seat for the doctor ?' resounded ; none was to be had. So one trunk was placed on the top of another, and the doctor on the top of it in great state. He happened to be in good spirits, notwithstanding all the chaos, so he joined with the others, and begged to see the doctor properly accommodated, as if the said doctor had been a third person. At dark our strangers left us, some of them half tipsy. Presently the captain quarrelled with the steward. The latter took to a boat unperceived, the cap- tain followed him in another, seized him by the collar, hauled him through the water, blackguarding the steward's wife all the time in a terrible style. This hubbub over, we made our beds and turned in. Presently the second mate tumbled down the stair like a pair of old boots, dead drunk. He was stretched out like a corpse be- fore the fire. The captain went ashore on Wednesday at daylight, and hearing himself blamed by two old men for his seamanship of the preceding day, he douced their ribs so effectually, by way of argument to prove he was right, that he was obliged instantly to set sail, and hire a stout steam-boat to pull him round the Cloch, to prevent in- carceration for an assault and battery. This is his own account. He told us, too, that he slew two bravadoes at Oporto, and un*lunk Uk t Ijiwnl SraBKbtiw*. " Th* wfttdK-r, wish the ti/wytawa f tea R COMBE'S WORK certainly, even in a slight disturbance of its function, that it is in a morbid condition ; but that is very far from necessarily implying that it cannot digest food at all, or that digestion is entirely deranged. In like manner, abstractly speaking, some of the manifestations of the mind may be positively deranged, but still the patient be competent to the ordinary affairs of life. For insanity is not a specific state, always marked out by well-defined lines, which, when it occurs, neces- sarily unfits a person for mingling in society and in business with his fellow-men ; but, like affections of other organs, it is a morbid state, which may manifest itself in every possible degree, from the most ob- scure to the most striking departure from mental health. Every body knows, for instance, and the Mad Doctors as well as the rest, that an individual may be palpably and incurably insane on all subjects hinge- ing upon one or two faculties of the mind, and yet be perfectly ra- tional, and sound on all others ; and that in all matters of thought or of business, which do not touch upon that point, he may continue for years, and even for the remainder of a long life, to display as much shrewdness, prudence, and good sense, as nine out of ten of those who never had the fear of a strait waistcoat before their eyes ; and every one conversant with the insane is aware that in practice every pos- sible gradation is to be met with, from an isolated affection like the above, to one involving all the faculties of the mind. And conse- quently the true problem to be resolved, where the rights of liberty and of property are concerned, is not so much whether mental de- rangement exist, but whether it has extended so far as to deprive the in- dividual of the power of sound judgment in his own affairs. Numerous cases, indeed, exist around us of partial affections of the mind which do not interfere in any marked degree with the business habits of the patient ; and in which, therefore, it would be the height of cruelty and injustice to deprive him of civil or moral liberty, but in which, at the same time, every conscientious physician, if judicially examined on the abstract question of the existence or nonexistence of insanity, would be obliged to answer in the affirmative. Many circumstances indicate this to have been the state of Davies. Some of the witnesses prove that he entertained the most extravagant notions of his own powers and importance, and that he habitually boasted of receiving illumination from Heaven, of being the Son of Grod, and of being under the special charge of supernatural beings, &c. It is also proved that he was frequently flighty, wild, and incoherent ; all of which symptoms might arise from morbid excitement of the single feeling of self-esteem, without the other faculties necessarily participating in the disease. And, accordingly, we have other witnesses who were in the habit of transacting business with Mr Davies, giving it as their OX MENTAL DERANGEMENT. 187 decided opinion that he was not insane, because ' they had taken in- structions from him on business, and never had met with a client who better understood his own affairs.' Keeping the above distinc- tion in view, we can see no difficulty in believing that Dr Burrows and his brethren, in saying on oath that his mind was not sound, were giving not only most conscientious but most true testimony ; and that the jury and journalists holding competency to business as equivalent to sanity, were equally conscientious and correct in pronouncing him to be sane. But if this be the true solution of the contradictory opinions laid before the world, it shews how careful we ought to be in under- standing each other's meaning ; lest, like the two knights of the olden time, we come to blows about the colour of the shield, when if each had looked at the other side, he would have seen that his opponent was right as well as himself. " There is another condition involving all the faculties of the mind, which may give rise to conscientious difference of opinion, and in which the same distinction ought to be observed. It occurs chiefly in per- sons of a highly excitable and irritable temperament, who, from trifling causes, are carried away by trains of thinking or idiosyncrasies of feeling, which less susceptible persons experience only after a suc- cession of the most powerful impressions. Persons so constituted pass years of their lives apparently on the verge of insanity, without its ever becoming decided, unless a hereditary predisposition exist, in which case they generally sooner or later lapse into lunacy. In the mean time, however, they are remarkable for unequal spirits, for do- ing odd things and manifesting strange feelings ; but upon the whole, they conduct themselves so much like other people, that although every one remarks that they have their peculiarities, few will venture to pronounce them insane. But in such cases when the transition to insanity does occur, it is so gradual, that the most experienced physi- cian, even after maturest examination, is often left in doubt as to the extent to which the disease has proceeded ; and, while he feels that the individual is not in a condition to be left entirely to his own guid- ance, he is at the same time conscious that he retains too much sound- ness of mind not to be injured by the premature interference either of friends, of doctors, or of lawyers. " The point of difficulty for the physician, therefore, and that for the solution of which we would most ardently long for the assistance of an intelligent jury, is to determine, not the mere existence of a mental affection, but the limit at ichich that affection begins to deprive the individual of the power of proper self-direction, and at which, therefore, it becomes the duty of the law, and of the friends, to step in for his protection. The right solution of this problem is no easy task, for it requires in 188 DR COMBE'S WORK the jurors not only clearness of perception, and soundness of judgment, but a knowledge of human nature, and an acquaintance with the general functions of the body, and with the previous habits and con- stitution of the suspected lunatic, which unhappily, under our imper- fect systems of general education, very few persons are found to pos- sess. And it is in vain to seek for any general rule to help us out of the difficulty ; for every human being presents so many points of differ- ence in mind and in body, and in the external circumstances modify- ing both, that every new case requires the same patient examination, the same careful analysis, and the same accurate consideration of all the attendant phenomena, as the first that ever occurred to us ; and he who, disregarding all these conditions, hastens to form his opinion from the application of general rules, will inevitably fall into error, and be the cause of much misery to those who confide in him. Dr Combe also wrote a kind and encouraging letter, dated 15th February 1830, to Dr Burrows, one of the medical witnesses, who, on this occasion, had been most severely handled by the press, and who was personally unknown to him, expressive of his respect and sympathy for him, under what he considered to be the persecution which that gentleman had sustained. He concludes his letter in these words : " It is somewhat singular, that more than three months ago I had applied to Professor Napier to be allowed to write an article on insanity (in- tended to be a review of your book) for his last num- ber; but he returned an answer that prevented my doing so. From my phrenological tendencies, however, you may easily suppose that, had I been biassed by per- sonal feeling at all, I should rather have avoided no- ticing your work and situation altogether; but it is long since I have learnt to separate personal feeling from estimates of opinions and doctrines, and if I had now an opportunity of doing you justice before the pub- lic, I should avail myself of it not the less readily that you think lightly of a science which I consider of great practical value, and nowhere more so than in its appli- cation to the elucidation of insanity." ON MENTAL DERANGEMENT. 189 The result of Davies's case was singular and instruc- tive. " The event," says the Globe (quoted in the Scots- man of 14th April 1830), " has falsified the verdict. It appears that Mr Davies has never since that ver- dict was pronounced evinced ' a sound mind,' nor ' been capable of managing- himself and his affairs.' And, as the climax of this extraordinary case, he now acknowledges that he was and still is insane, and justi- fies those who have affirmed it, and has voluntarily placed himself under the care of two of the physicians who, on the inquiry, gave the strongest testimony of his existing insanity." These discussions led Dr Combe to prepare a work on Insanity. As this was his first appearance as the author of a volume, he felt considerable anxiety regard- ing the impression which his work might make on his professional brethren and the public. His non-phre- nological friends were in alarm for his reputation, and endeavoured to dissuade him from the enterprise. In a letter to one of them who had objected to his intended publication, he wrote as follows : " In regard to our difference of opinion about publishing my views on Insanity in a popular form, I suspect that we do not understand each other very clearly, and doubt whether in a letter I could make my meaning plain. I would never dream of proving Phrenology by such an application as I have made of its principles. My work rests, as its basis, on the truth of Phrenology being indisputable. If Phre- nology is any thing, it is an exposition of the functions of the brain ; and if insanity is any thing, it is disease of the brain, which implicates the integrity of the mental functions. Now my notion is, that to treat of the disease without reference to the uses of the brain, would be tantamount to treating of deranged digestion without reference to the uses of the stomach and its relations to the bile, the gastric juice, &c. I could write very sensible-looking sentences on deranged digestion in a general way, but in practice every one would feel the deficiency of accurate or rather precise and definite knowledge, which they could make use of in other cases. This is even felt as a defect in Dr 190 DR COMBE'S WORK Gfooch's excellent Observations, although in his case it is diminished by a reference to the state of the brain generally. Everyone admits his remarks to be highly judicious, but when the practitioner comes to apply them, he finds very frequently a want of specific data suffi- cient to enable him to apply them to the individual under his care ; and before long, they slip out of his mind, and leave only a vague im- pression that they were excellent. I readily grant that in many cases there is no difficulty, and these are where the whole brain and the whole mental faculties are deranged, and where, therefore, we may act in many ways as if the whole brain were one organ with one func- tion. If the means to be employed were merely the administration of physical remedies, then it would be a matter of little moment whether the theory of the disease Avere understood, supposing the effects of particular remedies to be accurately known : but where much of the cure depends on the regulation of the mental powers, some of which are sound and others diseased, and on removing, moderating, or pre- senting stimuli to particular faculties, &c., &c., the case is widely dif- ferent." Writing to a friend, under the date of November 1830, lie says : " Dr Abercrombie expressed so much anxiety to see my forthcoming work on Insanity, that I gave him the proof-sheets to read. He has perused them, he says, with great interest and pleasure, thinks it full of sound observation and accurate thinking, and likely to be very use- ful. The consistency of the views, he says, is remarkable, and every thing well brought out. He gives no opinion of the Phrenology in them, except that it seems very consistent with the rest of the doc- trine, and that the general aim and design of the book is unquestion- ably sound. This opinion gives me great confidence, and does away with many misgivings, as he spoke apparently from conviction, and it was a great length for him to go. He will stop far short of this be- fore the public." In 1831 Dr Combe's work was published, under the title of " Observations on Mental Derangement ; being an application of the Principles of Phrenology to the Eluci- dation of the Causes, Symptoms, Nature, and Treatment of Insanity.' 1 '' The favourable opinion which Dr Abercrombie had ON MENTAL DERANGEMENT. 191 expressed of the work was participated in by the public and the medical profession. The first edition was in due season exhausted, and a second called for; but Dr Combe's other avocations and infirm health prevented him from bestowing that degree of care on the revisal and enlargement of the text which his growing lights and experience suggested to him as necessary to do justice to the subject ; and the treatise has, in conse- quence, long been out of print. In the preface to the eleventh edition of his " Principles of Physiology applied to Health" &c., published in 1842, he says : " As many inquiries continue to be made for a new edition of my Observations on Cental Derangement, I avail my- self of this opportunity to state, that infirm health having prevented me from devoting much attention to the treatment of insanity for some years past, and con- sequently disqualified me for doing that justice to the subject which its later progress and inherent import- ance imperatively demand, I have, although with great reluctance, abandoned all present intention of reprint- ing the work." It has been the anxious desire of Dr Combe's executors to supply the deficiencies here indi- cated, and they hope that the means of doing so may be found, so that copies of this valuable work may no longer be sought for in vain. In connection with this subject it may be mentioned, that in June 1830, George Combe wrote to Mr Macvey Napier, who had then recently been selected to edite a new edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica, asking him whether Dr Combe might be permitted to contribute the articles " Insanity" and " Phrenology" to that work. This question was based on the assurance given to the public in the prospectus, that the ablest writers in each department should be solicited to undertake the several treatises on literature and science for the Encyclopaedia. 192 THE ENCYCLOPEDIA BRITANNICA. Mr Napier returned a polite answer, mentioning, that he was not ill pleased that Dr Combe had not offered him the article on Insanity for the Edinburgh Review (referred toon page 184), because he had a strong con- viction that Dr C. could not do justice to his particu- lar views without taking aid from Phrenology, and that he (Mr Napier) would have been placed in the truly disagreeable situation of " rejecting on that account" an article otherwise able. This objection applied also to his writing on Insanity for the Encyclopaedia. Mr Napier added, that he did not mean to notice the other subject in any distinct form, till he should reach the head Phrenology, which was yet distant ; that he would then commit it to the ablest and most distin- guished writer whom he could prevail upon to under- take the discussion of it, " suitably with the views I may then entertain;" that, if there was no change in his views, he should certainly not apply to any professed phrenologist j and that he did not think he should con- sult the interests of truth or science, the only interests he should take into account, if he did any more than he should think he consulted those interests, if he should " take an article on animal magnetism from a doctor in that school." The article on Phrenology was accordingly committed to Dr P. M. Roget, an opponent of the doctrine. A principle is involved in this incident, which is de- serving of serious consideration. Nothing could be more becoming than Mr Napier's using his editorial control over the Encyclopaedia, to advance the interests of truth and science ; and the candid and courteous manner in which he rejected Dr Combe's proffered con- tributions deserves all commendation ; but the real im- port of his letter is, that he did not consider Dr Combe a fit person to be entrusted with the subjects in ques- tion, because he was a phrenologist. We have seen what THE ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA. 193 means Dr Combe had adopted to ascertain the merits of Phrenology, and it is no disparagement to Mr Na- pier to affirm that he had not made it an object of se- rious investigation. We ask, then, is it proper that the editor of an Encyclopaedia, who professes to give an accurate and honest representation of all sciences, creeds, doctrines, and opinions, invested with sufficient interest to merit public notice, should erect his indi- vidual "views" concerning a much controverted sub- ject, which he does not pretend to have studied, into a standard by which it is to be tried, and into conformity with which the representation of it must be moulded ? If the editor happen to be a Eoman Catholic, must the article " Protestantism" be written by a Roman Catho- lic to adapt it to his views of truth ? Or, if he be a Pro- testant, is it fair, or instructive to his readers, to em- ploy a Protestant doctor to represent the adverse faith of the Roman Catholic ? Would not the " interests of truth and science" be better served, if the editors of such works employed the ablest man in each department to write upon his own subject, warning his readers that this was the rule, and that the editor had used his power of control only to the extent of excluding all topics inconsistent with public decency and morality ? A true representation of Protestantism would be one which all enlightened, well-informed, and candid Pro- testants would recognise to be correct; and the same rule would hold good in regard to a view of Roman Catholic- ism. Why should the same principle not be recognised in the case of the sciences ? A true representation of " ani- mal magnetism" would be one which the ablest profes- sors of that doctrine would acknowledge to be consistent with their own apprehensions of it ; while a delineation of it which they should reject as false, would, de facto, be false. The adoption of this principle does not exclude 194 THE ENCYCLOPEDIA BRITANN1CA, refutation of error. There would be great advantage, in the case of new and controverted doctrines, in allowing each party to state his own views, and leaving the readers to judge and decide on the merits of each. The conse- quences of the prevailing practice of hiring an indi- vidual, hostile to a particular doctrine, first to give his own misrepresentation of it, and then to refute that de- lineation, is well stated by Messrs Chambers in the introduction to the article ' ; Phrenology" in their " In- formation for the People." " It has of late," they remark, " been customary for the conductors of popular Cyclopaedias to admit articles on Phrenology ; but in most, if not all the instances in which this has been done, the articles were the composition of persons who denied that Phrenology was a true system of mental philosophy, and whose aim rather was to shew its want of sound foundation, than simply to present a view of its doc- trines. In every one of these instances, it was afterwards successfully shewn by phrenological writers that their science had been misrepre- sented, and its doctrines challenged on unfair grounds ; so that the articles in question might as well not have been written, in so far as the instruction of candid inquirers was concerned. We have resolved to eschew this practical absurdity, by presenting a view of Phrenology by one who believes it to be a true system of mind." * * * " With these introductory remarks, we leave our readers to form their own opinions concerning the science." KEV1EAV OF DR ABEKCUOMBIE'S WORK. 195 CHAPTER XII. DR COMBE ON DR ABEECROMBIE's " INQUIRIES CONCERNING THE INTEL- LECTUAL POWERS," &C. REMARKS ON THE CAUSES OF THE INDE- PENDENCE AND LIBERTY OF NATIONS. ON NATURE BEING SYSTEM- ATIC. ON THE DRAMA. IN 1830, Dr John Abercrombie, who then stood at the head of the medical profession in Edinburgh, pub- lished a work on mental philosophy, under the title of " Inquiries concerning the Intellectual Powers, and the Investigation of Truth." Dr Combe looked forward to its appearance with much interest, being curious to see how Dr Abercrombie would treat the subject in relation to the functions of the brain. When it appeared, he was not a little surprised to find that all reference to the influ- ence of the brain, in the state of health, on the mani- festations of the mind, was omitted ; and that Phreno- logy was never so much as alluded to. Dr Gall was treated as if he had never existed. " The tT^Jtl, " J.* Physiology applied to Health," personal au- thority. He wished to make his readers understand why certain courses are beneficial and others hurtful, so that every individual might be enabled to adapt his conduct rationally to his own peculiar circumstances. He urges, that as every organ of the body has a speci- fic constitution, and is regulated in its action by fixed laws appointed by Divine Wisdom, success in avoiding causes of disease, and in removing them wh 3n they come into play, will greatly depend on the extent of our knowledge of the nature and laws of the various organs, and their relations to each other and to external ob- jects. * In teaching dietetic rules and hygienic obser- vances, therefore,' says he, ' the precepts delivered should be connected with and supported by constant reference to the physiological laws from which they are deduced. Thus viewed, they come before the mind of the reader as the mandates of the Creator ; andexpe- rience will soon prove that by His appointment, health and enjoyment flow from obedience, and sickness and suffering from neglect and infringement of them.' The words we have printed in italics express an idea on which he frequently dwells with earnestness in his works, and which he delighted in private conversation to enforce. ' Wherever, indeed,' says he, 4 1 may have unintentionally mistaken or misrepresented the natural law, the inferences deduced from it must, of course, be equally erroneous and unworthy of regard. But in every instance in which I have drawn correct practical rules from accurately observed phenomena, I am en- titled to insist upon their habitual fulfilment as a duty as clearly commanded by the Creator, as if written with His own finger on tablets of brass. Fallible man may obey or neglect the will of the Being who made him, and reap enjoyment or suffering as the consequence ; NECESSITY OF EXERCISING THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. 369 but as he can neither create himself anew after a dif- ferent model, nor alter the laws of that constitution which God has seen to be best adapted for him, his true happiness must necessarily lie in discarding the blind guidance of his own imagination, and following, in pre- ference, the dictate of a wisdom which never errs. Till this truth be universally felt till we come to live, move, and act, under the habitual consciousness that the laws which regulate our bodily wellbeing are direct emanations of Divine omniscience and power, and not the mere offspring of human fancy it will be impos- sible for us to escape the numerous evils inseparable from ignorance and its attendant rashness and presump- tion, or to secure for ourselves the many advantages and sources of enjoyment which a kind Providence has intentionally placed within our reach. 1 (On Digestion and Diet, ch. vii.)" The following letter, addressed to a lady who had long suffered under a complication of distressing, al- though not dangerous, maladies, contains a practical view of THE NECESSITY OF EXERCISING THE NERVOUS SYSTEM, as a means of preserving health. " The nervous system,' like all other parts, is most directly strength- ened by exercise of its own functions. It is therefore of much conse- quence to keep the inind and feelings as fully employed, and as regu- larly exercised, as possible, and never to yield to the dislike for men- tal exertioijX^ich nervous debility generally brings along with it. And in that state, the best thing we can do is to invite and encourage others to stir us up even against our will at the time, particularly as ihe feeling of inability is always much greater than the reality; and if we act upon the feeling, we are apt to allow our whole faculties of mind and body to become weakened from a mistaken belief of their unfitness for exercise. So sensible of this am I in my own experience, that scarcely a day passes in which I do not feel positively grateful for being obliged to exert myself, and to do many things, and to see many people, that, were I left to inclination, I fear I should often neglect ; and the consequence is, that the more I have to do, and the 2 A RECOLLECTIONS OF FOREIGN TRAVEL. <5ater exertion I am making, the more I am able to do, and the appier I hecome. Your system obeys the same laws ; and therefore the more you force yourself to active communication with others, and the more you exercise your mind and encourage your friends to rouse you up, the more certainly and speedily will you acquire strength of mind and health of body." In a letter, dated 19th December 1839, addressed to Miss Stirling Graham, then residing in Rome, Dr Combe describes the recollections which remained on his mind from his travels, even while labouring tinder the distressing influence of disease. It expounds a beautiful law of human nature, and is characteristic of his own dispositions and experience : " You should flourish like a green bay-tree, with so many sources of quiet and elevating enjoyment about you, and come home stored for life with new and abiding sources of interest. For myself, at least, I can say, that the pleasures of actual travelling are the smallest portion I derive from an excursion. The retrospect brightens many an hour in after life. It is now twenty years since I stalked through the valleys and over the mountains of Switzerland and Savoy, and many and many a time since then has memory carried me back to the renewed enjoyment of their beauty and grandeur, and to the recollec- tion of friends, some still alive, and others long since dead, who then shared in my pleasure. It is a blessed arrangement of God's provi- dence, too, that in looking back upon the past, it is the bright sunshine which dwells on the mind, while the suffering and sorrow disappear like the shadow of the passing cloud. Little as I was able to see and enjoy of Rome and Naples in 1831-32, it is the sunny Monte Pincio, the blue unclouded sky, the ancient obelisk, the magnificent Duomo, the gay Borghese gardens, the beautiful Bay of Naples, the pic- turesque approach by sea to Castel-a-Mare, and other objects of a like interest, that alone dwell in my mind. The unquiet nights in which my lean frame felt multiplied into eiyht, and became too ponderous to turn in bed ; the panting and ' scant of breath,' which made me rest for two or three minutes as I rose from bed ; the laborious exertion which it cost me to mount the said Monte Pincio, and all the other drawbacks attending on sickness, have long ceased to haunt me, and I can bring them back only by a special effort. It was the same when ill in 1820-21-22. The sunny part alone remains ; and al- though my illness then looked like a regularly-established impediment DR COMBE'S HABITS OF COMPOSITION. 371 to my ever entering upon the business of life, and might be supposed enough to darken a cautious mind lite mine, still even the obscurity of that time has been supplanted by the brishter enjoyments which, amidst much infirmity, were placed within mv reach."' The last literary effort of Dr Combe in 1839, was the writing of an article on Phrenology for The British and Foreign Medical Review. It appeared in Xo. xvii. of that Journal, published in January 1840, and was so highly appreciated by Dr Forbes, the editor of the work, that he subsequently published it separately as a pamphlet.* Frequent allusion has been made to Dr Combe's habits of composition. In writing to Mr H. C. Wat- son in reference to his omission to call Mr Watson's attention to some remarks by Dr Holland on Phreno- logy, he again adverts to the difficulties which his in- tellectual constitution placed in his way in writing : " I am sorry," says he, " that it did escape me ; but you who know the depression which my forehead presents at Eventuality, and my difficult command of detached ideas and circumstances, should have forbearance with such lapses, when you consider how thoroughly the faculty is taxed with compulsory labour. If I had a larger endow- ment in that place, I have no hesitation in saying that I could be ten times more useful than I ever shall be ; but the absence of a ready command of my materials makes writing a great labour to me : and in regard to the article in Dr Forbes's Journal I may say. that no- thing short of a strong sense of duty "would have induced me to un- dertake it. This argues limited power." In reference to a report by Dr Boardman, of Lectures delivered by George Combe in America, Dr Combe, in a letter to his brother, dated 16th February 1840, re- marks, that in an able Introduction which Dr B. had furnished to them, he had omitted to mention him on * The title is, " Phrenology, Physiologically and Philosophically Considered : with Reasons for its Study, and Directions for its Success- ful Prosecution. Reprinted, inc. London : John Churchill. 1840." 372 MORBID EXCITEMENT OF APPREHENSION. page 75, in which he names the individuals who had devoted their time and abilities to the cultivation and diffusion of Phrenology. " Fame," says he, " is a matter that, somehow or other, never had great attractions for me, so that, essentially, I care little for this omission ; but as a question of historical accuracy, the matter de- serves notice, more especially in a publication in America, where so few know that / am not you" In the same letter he adverts to an inaccurate state- ment given on page 279 of these Lectures, of a case apparently of over-excited Cautiousness, which had oc- curred in his own practice ; and furnishes the correct version : " After sailing about the Firth of Clyde, in his yacht, for some time, Mr Henderson started, towards the middle of October, on his way to the Forth via the Pentland Firth. He had two men and a boy as his crew, but only one of the men could, in the least, be trusted. The weather proved very boisterous ; the winds contrary, with heavy gales. The consequence was a passage of a month's duration, of frequent danger, and of unremitting watchfulness by night as well as by day. Having no dependence on any one but himself, Mr H. was kept in a state of continual excitement, and on the tenter-hooks of apprehen- sion. This, at the same time, gratified his love of power, and of over- coming difficulties. But the continued want of sleep, and excited ac- tivity of Cautiousness, brought on a vague but deep sense of appre- hension after his perils were over, and he continued to feel the appre- hension for some weeks, without being able to name an object that he feared. By the use of the bath and other means, the excitement was gradually subdued." There is no direct evidence that the organ of Cau- tiousness was the special seat of this morbid feeling of apprehension ; but those individuals who have become convinced by observation that the normal function of the organ is to manifest caution, will have little hesitation in connecting, as Dr Combe obviously did, the emotion described, with an excited condition of that portion of the brain. AGAIX 15 DANGER OF SHIPWRECK. 373 CHAPTER XXIII. DR COMBE AGAIX IX ULMIXEXT DAXGER OF SHIPWRECK. LETTER OX IXSAXTTY AXD THE COXDITIOX OF THE IXSAXE, ADDRESSED BY HIM TO A POPULAR WRITER. LETTER TO GRAHAM SPEIRS, ESQ., SHERIFF OF THE COUXTT OF EDFXBURGH, OX HIS PROPOSED REGULATIOXS FOK LUXATIC ASYLUMS, LETTER TO UR SPEIRS, DESCRIBING THE CASE OF AX IXSAXE PATTEXT IX A PRIVATE ESTABLISHMEXT. LETTER BY DR COMBE, STATIXG THE REASOXS FOR RESIGXIXG HIS APPOIXTMEXT AS A MAXAGER OF THE MORXTXGSIDE LUXATIC ASYLUM. ISFLUEXCE OF ALCOHOLIC LIQUORS OX HEALTH. IT may appear trivial to advert so frequently to Dr Combe's ill luck in travelling ; but it is singular, and acquires a degree of interest from the very frequency of its recurrence. In a letter, dated London, llth June 1840, addressed to Mrs George Combe, he writes : " I left home on the 9th of May, and on the 13th embarked at Hull for Rotterdam, in a disagreeable east wind. Afterwards an in- tense fog came on, and we kept the bell ringing all night. At half- past eight o'clock next morning, I heard a sudden shout of alarm, 'Port the helm! port! stop her! port f uttered in a powerful, sharp, and anxious tone. I ran up on deck, and was just in time to witness a large steam-ship looming through the mist, and running right upon us ; hut fortunately, by great exertions on both sides, the positions of the vessels were made slightly oblique before the crash took place. This saved us. Both ships shivered and reeled to their centres, broke off with a heavy rebound, and met again on their quarters, smashing our quarter-boat, and knocking in our bulwarks. It proved to be the Caledonia from Hamburgh. They believed themselves going 374 THE CONDITION OP LUNATIC ASYLUMS, down, and called on us to stay. We remained till the extent of the damage was ascertained. The forecastle and part of their deck were torn up, their main-yard broken, an arm of their anchor snapped off, and a good deal of minor damage done ; but all so high up as to ad- mit of our both proceeding. The Hamburgh captain came on board. The greeting was brief and pithy : 'A bad job, this.' ' Yes; but thank Heaven it is no worse !' Haifa minute later we should have met at right angles, and the feebler vessel gone down instanter, but the lives might have been saved by the surviving ship. I saw at a glance that our obliquity was sufficient to save us, and I was intensely interested in watching the effect on the people." He adds that he proceeded to Brussels, visited the Royal Family, and afterwards went to the Rhine, and returned in good health to London on the 9th of June. The following letters relate to insanity, the state of the insane, and the regulation of lunatic asylums. Some readers may conceive such topics more suitable to a professional treatise than to a work like the pre- sent ; but Dr Combe considered that the public have a great interest in understanding these subjects in their true lights, and that much suffering might be prevent- ed, and still more mitigated, by diffusing sound know- ledge of them among all classes of the community. At present, many cases of apparent moral perversion, of habitual idleness and incapacity, and of vicious indul- gence, amounting occasionally to crime, are viewed as purely wilful moral and intellectual errors, and are treated by advice, reproof, threats, and punishment, although very often they are really instances of par- tial insanity, requiring a different mode of treatment. In a great majority of such instances, the malady might be traced up to mental derangement existing in some member of the race from which such individuals are descended. Suppose, for example, a case which is of frequent occurrence that the father of a family is himself of sound mind, but has a brother or sister AND OF THE IXSASE. 375 who is insane. His children are distinguished by a cer- tain excitability and feebleness of mind, which, how- ever, does not attract general attention, and they in their turn marry. An idiot, however, is born in one of their families ; a vicious and intractable yonng man appears in a second ; and perhaps a helpless, idle, im- becile being, plausible in conversation, but incapable of persevering action, is found in a third. As no sus- picion is entertained of any cerebral disease in these children, they are treated for a long period as perfectly normal in their mental constitutions. Much irritation and disappointment in regard to their conduct and progress are experienced, great expense is incurred, heavy losses are sustained through their vice and in- capacity, and only after a long tract of suffering and misfortune, do their relatives begin to suspect that something is wrong with their brains. It was, there- fore, Dr Combe's earnest desire to enlighten the public on the nature and causes of insanity ; and for this rea- son the subject is introduced into his " Life,"' in the various forms in which it presented itself to him in his practical experience. The following letter, dated 13th July 1840, was ad- dressed to an author who had introduced THE COSDITIOy OF UTSTATIC ASTtlTHS, AXD OF THE IXSAXE, into a popular work, with a view tc convey information on that subject. After commending the excellent in- tentions of the author, and the ability displayed in the book, he proceeds : " As TOUT object is the high one of benefiting as well as amusing mankind, and the subject upon which you touch has been one of in- tense interest to me for years, you will perhaps allow me to offer a few remarks on your management of it. considered in a moral point of view, and to suggest some points in regard to which yon may, in a future work, help to correct prevalent and pernicious errors. If I 376 THE CONDITION OF LUNATIC ASYLUMS, did not feel great respect for both your talents and motives, I should not trouble you with my comments ; but I know that you will receive kindly what is kindly meant. " Two causes contribute powerfully to retard our knowledge of and control over insanity. The first is the prevailing notion of its mys- terious origin and nature, as if it involved some deep moral stigma, or was inseparably bound up with something of horror, and altogether beyond the influence of the ordinary laws of animated nature. The second is the popular notion of the cruel treatment of lunatics, and the great aversion thence arising either to have the patients removed to an asylum, or even to admit that insanity really exists. Every effort is consequently made by both patient and friends to suppress and conceal the truth, and treatment is deferred from the early stage in which it can generally cure, to that later stage in which all the resources of art are too often unavailing. Before full justice can be done to the unhappy lunatic, these prejudices must be destroyed, and the wholesome and comforting truth made widely known, that in- sanity is neither an anomalous visitation of a mysterious Providence, nor an infliction involving any stigma, or incapable of cure. The public must be taught to regard it simply as a disease of the body, arising from natural causes, governed by the ordinary laws of the animal economy, and, like other diseases, amenable to proper treat- ment when early attended to ; and they must be led to regard asylums as infirmaries for the cure and kind treatment of that disease, and resort to them with the same confidence as they now do to other in- firmaries for a fracture or a fever. Insanity, rightly considered, in- volves no moral stigma any more than consumption or inflammation, and the sooner the atmosphere of mystery and horror is cleared away from it, the happier for the unfortunate sufferers. " Such seem to be the objects which all must desire to effect ; and yet such, I fear, will not be the tendency of your work. Your de- scription of the general condition of the insane and of asylums was to me painfully disagreeable, familiar as I have been with asylums of every kind for nearly twenty years. That horrors did exist of a most barbarous description is certain, and that in many asylums the treat- ment is still very imperfect is also most true ; but in the worst which I have seen, I have never witnessed patients acting and suffering as you describe, and if you had been familiar with the phenomena of the disease, I cannot believe that you would have painted the unfortunate in such colours. I have no hesitation in saying, that there are many asylums, through every ward of which you might pass twenty times unannounced, and meet with nothing in the gestures, cries, or actions, . to elicit any feeling but that of grateful sympathy and interest ; and AND OF THE INSANE. 377 that in the great majority you would seek in vain for any thing so distressingly repugnant to feeling and humanity as your descriptions present. I fear that your work will tend to confirm the already too powerful prejudices, and to deter the humane from undertaking the duty of caring for lunatics, hy describing the class as armed with the whip, wielding the chain, and actuated hy hrutality. I wish much that you could spend a day or a week in a well-regulated asylum, like that of Dumfries. For myself I can only say, that a richer treat to my best feelings never crosses my path, and that I never visit one such place, without thankfulness to Providence that I live in times when the misery of the wretched is treated with something of a heavenly because well-directed compassion. Even in badly-managed asylums, the errors are those of omission rather than of commission. The active moral treatment is omitted, but there is little if any positive bad treatment perpetrated, and everywhere treatment is rapidly im- proving. The way to hasten improvement is to cheer and encourage exertion, and not to call the- treatment worse than it is. " Your work will strengthen the prejudice against asylums as moral lazar-houses, and thus tend to prevent cures. There are cases best treated at home, as you describe ; but they are few, and the expe- rience of the best asylums has now demonstrated that by early removal, in cases requiring it, 90 per 100 may be cured. In what other serious diseases can a more favourable result be produced ? And what mis- chief may thus be done by inducing delay, is shewn by the proportion of cures rapidly diminishing as months pass over. I wish I could send you my first work, ' Observations on Mental Derangement,' &c., in which some of these things are treated ; but it is put of print, and I have not a copy left. " Your description of the power of kindness and reason is graphi- cally true, and shews how much you could have done to disseminate sound views, if you had known the subject more familiarly. I attended a lady some years ago, who, in spite of the effects of four porters to restrain her, got out of bed, broke the furniture and windows, and committed violence on every one. I saw they were acting by sheer force, and desired them to leave the room, every one of them. They remonstrated but yielded on my insisting. My first reward was a stunning slap on the face. I said quietly that this would never do, and that she must not expose herself in such a way ; and keeping my eye on her movements, I stood quietly till her agitation should sub- side, telling her that then, and not till then, I would talk over matters. To make a long story short, she calmed down so far, that in half-an- hour she agreed to accompany me to an asylum, allowed me to re- strain her hands during her removal, walked down stairs with me to 378 REGULATIONS FOR PRIVATE LUNATIC ASYLUMS. the coach, and begged of me to go in it, and put the attendant out- side. She promised to restrain herself to the utmost, and succeeded till near the place, when she warned me that she could no longer keep quiet. Being cheered by me, however, she did command herself; and after I had seen her to her room, we parted excellent friends. She, like many others, acknowledged that she was conscious of her unfit- ness to be at liberty, and that it was a relief to her to feel that kind control was at hand : she felt as if a weight was removed, as she had lived for some time labouring to conceal her state, and always afraid of giving way and exposing herself and family." The next letter, dated 3d October 1840, is addressed to Graham Speirs, Esq., Sheriff of the county of Edin- burgh, and contains Dr Combe's opinion regarding certain REGULATIONS FOB PRIVATE LUNATIC ASYLUMS. " I have read the proposed regulations for private madhouses, and concur in their propriety, with some slight exceptions ; if, as I sup- pose, there is not power, under the act referred to, to go a step farther. As a professional man, however, I am of opinion that no one should be licensed to receive violent or furious lunatics into his house, unless he has not only suitable accommodation for them, but a sufficient number of qualified attendants to exercise the necessary control over them under all ordinary circumstances, without recourse to coercion. This seems to me to be called for even where there are only one or two patients. CURE ought to be the primary object of all regulations ; but nothing is so unfavourable to recovery as the excitement arising out of contention with an inadequate controlling power, and out of frequent recourse to physical restraint. In the early and most curable state, many patients are excitable, and occasionally violent. Suppose a private institution to receive even one patient in this state, and to admit only one ; and that excitement ensues. One individual cannot exercise an effective moral control over him, and there is consequently no resource but the application of physical force and restraint. A neighbour, perhaps, is called in, a struggle ensues, and, at its close, that patient's chances of recovery are smaller than they were at its commencement. But suppose you have attendants always in the way, and exercising a restraining moral influence by their mere presence, you may often prevent the excitement, and dispense with restraint ; and when it does become necessary, your power is felt, the struggle is avoided, or is rendered brief and unirritating, and the REGULATIONS FOR PRIVATE LUNATIC ASYLUMS. 379 excitement soon abates, leaving the patient's chances essentially un- impaired. " For imbecile, harmless, or incurable patients, I should hold your first regulation to be sufficient. But I would either make it a condi- tion of the license, that there should be at least two qualified keepers, or I would prevent the receiving of excitable and curable cases into any establishments where there were not adequate accommodation, and an adequate number of attendants. For the first ten such patients, I would require at least two attendants, whether the patients were only one or ten. The few have a right to protection as well as the many, and it is no hardship on any one to be refused a license where means of proper treatment are not provided. It is not a matter of traffic. An obligation of this kind would tend to throw the care of lunatics into the hands of a better qualified class, and to save them from the cruelties perpetrated where only one, or two, or three are left. Safe custody is too exclusively looked to, and cure far too little. Where a number are confined, the few excitable cases feel themselves under control beyond their powers of resistance, and the tendency to dis- putation and excitement gradually subsides. Hence in Hanwell, Lincoln, Dumfries, and other places, with so many as 500 patients, physical restraint is scarcely known. In Hanwell, with 800 patients of all kinds, none has been exercised since August 1838, when Dr Conolly found, I believe, 63 under it. " If the power be possessed under the existing act, I should there- fore be disposed to modify it so as to require a male or female keeper, in addition to the master or mistress, for any number of curable patients, say (making it very wide) under twenty, and one for every twelve beyond that number. The quiet daily and hourly action of the attendants upon the patients is, in reality, a most essential part of the curative treatment. " Where both male and female patients are received, at least two airing-grounds should be provided. " I dislike the very name of ' punishment ' as applicable to the treatment of disease. The keeper should enter in the register ' every occasion on which restraint has been used, the reasons for, and nature and duration of such restraint.' " One more remark occurs to me. The room for furious or ex- cited patients should be as far removed as possible from the tranquil patients. Their proximity is a harassing and hurtful peculiarity almost inseparable from small establishments. Such establishments, in fact, when used for recent cases, are often the means of obstruct- ing recovery, from their inherent inadequacy, altogether apart from the moral fitness of their proprietor." 380 REGULATIONS FOR PRIVATE LUNATIC ASYLUMS. The necessity for subjecting the custodiers of the in- sane to official inspection and control, is strikingly il- lustrated by the case described in the following letter, also addressed to Mr Graham Speirs. The patient was confined in a private house as a boarder, and not in any of the public asylums : " Early in December 1839, 1 was requested to visit Mr siding with , and to report whether his condition was such as to admit of any alleviation of suffering, or any addition to his com- forts. I did so, and before seeing him, was told by his custodiers, that he had been upwards of thirty years under their charge ; that he had been seven years confined in a strait waistcoat, on account of violence ; and for several years past had never been beyond the door, as he had ' fits' of excitement, was very silly and dirty, and would not allow himself to be clothed. I found him in a small back room, with- out fire, in very cold weather ; the floor was wet with saliva, &c. ; the smell was close and disagreeable. He himself was kneeling on his bed, and his only dress was a flannel garment, with legs and arms, and a body which was open and tied by strings behind. His feet and legs, half way to the knee, were bare, as were his head, neck, and part of the arms. His bed was in disorder, and partially wet ; and altogether he presented as miserable a picture of wretchedness as I have seen for a long time. I was told that he was idiotic, and insensible to every thing. I spoke kindly and cheerfully to him. His eye brightened, an expression of pleasure played for a moment on his features, and he half looked up. I asked him a few questions, and found that he could not speak more than a monosyllable ; but he understood me, gave me his hand to feel his pulse, tried to shew me his tongue, and intimated that he was very cold when I asked him. He came out of bed, went to the next room to warm himself, and seemed pleased with the in- terest I took in him. On leaving him I was told that he was in a quiet fit, and that I must not judge from this. I did not, but re- turned some days afterwards. All my former observations were con- firmed ; and I accordingly reported, and stated the ground of my opinion, that he was capable of improvement, though not of cure, and strongly recommended his being sent to the Dumfries Asylum, where I felt certain of his being well treated. Some of the relations scouted my opinion, and declared he would die if removed ; others urged the removal. It was ultimately thrown on my responsibility, but the danger and difficulties were strongly insisted upon. A man came REGULATIONS FOK PRIVATE LUNATIC ASYLUMS. 381 from Dumfries by my desire to take charge of him, and on calling at the house, he was so struck by the wretched appearance of the patient, and the account given of him, that he also declined to act unless I at- tended to superintend the proceedings, and warrant the use of compul- sion if necessary. I went accordingly, half-doubtful whether I had not deceived myself. But the result was again the same. When kindly spoken to, Mr came out of bed, and instead of resisting cloth- ing being put on, he welcomed the stockings and warm slippers, and held up his foot and smiled. "When a warm cap was put on his head, his contentment increased ; and when he was wrapped in a large cloak, he lay back in his chair and laughed with amazed delight. Instead of refusing to be separated from his keeper, he rose at once when desired, and, supported by me on one side and the keeper on the other, he walked down the stairs which he had not trodden for years, and never attempted even to look back. The result was his safe arrival at Dumfries, his wearing clothes, and assuming the ap- pearance of a human being, and very soon his driving out, and also at- tending chapel. His mind is gone, as might be expected from thirty- four years of maltreatment and neglect ; but his enjoyments are ex- tended, and he no longer shocks the feelings of those who see him. " I have mentioned all these details, because they may serve to direct your observation and inquiries into the doings of other private houses. In this instance I am bound to add my conviction, that acted to the best of his judgment, and not with unkind in- tent. He, like many other better educated people, obviously took it for granted that the patient had neither sense nor feeling, and that anything might be said or done in his presence without its having any influence upon him either for good or evil. This is still, I may sav, the grand practical error in the management of many (especially pri- vate and unseen) asylums ; and the patients are thus unintentionally doomed to a negation of intellectual and moral interests and sympathy, which not only gives pain and impedes cure, but in reality suffices to produce insanity. I have long advocated the necessity of a public and responsible inspector of asylums ; and the longer I live the urgent ne- cessity becomes the more obvious. From having for many years taken an interest in the insane and in asylums, I know that the casual offi- cial visits of managers and of sheriffs are far from sufficient guaran- tees of all being well within. They have neither the means nor the opportunity of judging of the real state of things ; and their reports, being written in the superintendent's own book, are always laudatory. I scarcely need add my conviction, that a great deal might have been done for this patient years ago. The readiness with which his feel- 382 DUTIES OF A MANAGER OF A LUNATIC ASYLUM. iiigs and understanding responded when addressed by their proper objects, even after thirty-four years of neglect, proves this to my mind. " I have troubled you with this long detail in writing, because I have a difficulty in expressing myself clearly viva voce, and because I believe you to be sincerely anxious to do your utmost for the protec- tion, comfort, and recovery of the unhappy beings officially committed to your guardianship." Ill the annual Report of the Crichton Royal Institu- tion, Dumfries, dated 1st June 1840, this case is ad- verted to as follows : " Nothing could be attempted except to augment the physical comforts and the capa- bilities of enjoyment." (The means used are then de- scribed, and the notice concludes) : " He has attended chapel ; drives out in a carriage when in a state of com- posure ; sits in the balcony when the weather permits, and has never exhibited any of the violence or intract- ableness which were declared to be inconsistent with such privileges and pleasures." He died in 1844. Dr Browne, in a letter to George Combe, dated 15th De- cember 1849, after stating the result of his treatment, remarks, that " such facts are, or rather were, of fre- quent occurrence." The following letter, in which Dr Combe states the reasons which compel him to resign his office as one of the managers of the Lunatic Asylum at Morningside, near Edinburgh, is instructive, as shewing his opinion of the duties implied in such an office. It is dated 28th December 1840, and is addressed to one of the gentle- men connected with the Institution : " I have just received your note of 26th, proposing to substitute my nephew, Dr Cox, for myself, as a visitor to the asylum when it would be either inconvenient or fatiguing to me to go in person. I feel obliged to you for this willingness to save me trouble, but I am afraid, both from this and your former proposal, that our views of the duties of visitors differ so materially, that we are not likely to coin- cide in the propriety of fulfilling them by deputy, while the responsi- bility, such as it is, remains with myself. If nothing more were to be DUTIES OP A MANAGER OF A LUX ATIC ASYLUM. 383 done than to go through the honse and report whether everything seemed to be in order, and every officer in attendance, I should never hesitate a moment to remain in the management when a wish to that effect was expressed to me. But my view of the duty is a much more serious one ; and I think that to discharge it properly, one would re- quire not only to make frequent visits during the month, but to in- vestigate the particulars of individual cases, commune with individual patients, inquire what means, moral or medical, are made use of to influence them, and whether anything can be done to increase their comforts, or contribute to their chances of recovery. Such inquiries, to be worth anything, should be made in the absence of those who have charge, and finally compared with the superintendent's reports. Of course, many unfounded complaints would be made by many patients; but these would neither mislead the visitor nor prejudice the superin- tendent in his good opinion ; while, independently of the relief it would afford to the patient, there can be no doubt that occasionally omissions or mistakes might thus be detected and corrected, to the benefit of all concerned, and the public would have a double guarantee that every thing was efficiently done for those in confinement. TVhereas, if the visitors confine their inquiries to the mere externals of the establish- ment, abuses may exist and be overlooked, without any one having even a suspicion of their existence. For proof of this, you need only go back to the days of and . Under them the visitors went their rounds, they found the house clean and in order, and re- ported that all was well ; and they could scarcely have done other- wise. And yet, while they were thus conscientiously reporting what they believed, I had evidence presented in the course of a single visit to a patient in whom I was interested, that neglect was committed and harshness exercised towards him ; and this evidence I derived, not from any complaint made by him, but from my own observation. I refer to this as a mere illustration of what may exist, and yet be entirely unknown under the ordinary systems of visiting and looking only at externals. The view which I took of my own duty as a visitor went, therefore, a great deal farther, and I believed myself bound in con- science either to extend my inquiries to a sufficient degree, or to re- sign my office if that was not in my power. On making the trial, I found that my physical strength was inadequate, and that, after taking a general view of the house (also an important object), I was unable to do more. The result consequently is, that my own mind is not satisfied, and that instead of the pleasure arising from the con- sciousness of a duty discharged, I have the unpleasant feeling of not being able to fulfil my own views of what is required of me. On re- flection, yon will easily see, that this is not a state of things which 384 DUTIES OF A MANAGER OF A LUNATIC ASYLUM. can be amended by employing another to act for me, so long as the real responsibility is mine. You say that it would hurt the institu- tion with the public were I to withdraw, as the reason would be mis- construed. I can see no force whatever in this argument. It would be doing a real injury to the institution to remain ostensibly in the management and do nothing, but a positive benefit to withdraw and put an efficient man in my place. Of misconstruction there is just as little risk. The small section of the public that knows or concerns it- self about me, knows well that this is neither the first nor the heaviest sacrifice which infirm health has compelled me to make ; and the no- tion of the institution suffering from such misconstruction, seems to me purely imaginary. As I stated before, and as you are aware, my interest in the institution is and will continue to be as great as ever, although I be officially unconnected with it ; and if at any time I can assist it, I shall not allow the opportunity to pass by unimproved. " Before concluding I may add, as you refer to the Report-Book, that, in my opinion, it is utterly useless, and that the only way to ob- tain reports worth perusal, is for the visiting managers to report at the end of the month by letter. I never yet heard of reports written in a book under the eye, and lying in the custody of the officials, contain- ing a notice of any abuse, however glaring ; and it is scarcely in human nature to do otherwise. I beg, however, expressly to guard myself from any personal application of this principle, or of the re- marks in the body of my letter, to our present worthy and amiable superintendent Dr M'Kinnon. In the view which I take of the duties of visitors, I am not influenced by distrust either of him or of our matron ; and so far from having any intention of expressing such distrust, I firmly believe that nothing would give a more encouraging stimulus to their exertions in behalf of the patients, than the con- viction that their efforts would thus be known and appreciated. The best of us are the better of being looked after in a kindly spirit, and cheered on to improvement ; and I cannot fancy anything more dis- heartening to a really zealous officer, than to find that nobody took the trouble to look narrowly into his doings. " As you mention that you spoke to Dr Maclagan, on Saturday, after I left the meeting, you may shew him this explanation of my motives : and I feel almost assured, that it will be satisfactory to his judgment. I am not acting from caprice or want of consideration, but from a settled conviction, which, as yet, has not been affected by anything you have advanced." Dr Combe having been requested by a friend of the temperance cause to state, in writing, his opinion of the INFLUENCE OF ALCOHOLIC LIQUORS ON HEALTH. 385 effects of alcoholic liquors on health, wrote a very ex- plicit letter, stating his views on the subject ; but as these are given at full length in his Physiology of Di- gestion, p. 174, ninth edition, it is unnecessary to repeat them here. 386 ATTACK OF HAEMOPTYSIS. CHAPTER XXIV. DR COMBE IS ATTACKED BY HEMOPTYSIS. DESCRIBES THE DEATH AND CHARACTER OF HIS SISTER MRS COX. SUFFERS FROM SUB- INFLAMMATION OF THE BRONCHIJ3 AND LUNGS. LETTER TO MRS MACONOCHIE ON CONVICT MANAGEMENT. DR COMBE, IN THE NEAR PROSPECT OF DEATH, WRITES LETTERS ON THE FOLLOWING TO- PICS : HIS MOTIVES IN WRITING HIS WORKS ; STATE OF MEDICAL SCIENCE ; HIS REVERENCE FOR THE NATURAL LAWS OF GOD ; HIS REASONS FOR ABSTAINING FROM MARRIAGE ; HIS VIEWS OF THE LAW OF DESCENT OF HEREDITARY QUALITIES ; HORACE MANN's OPINION OF HIS WORK ON INFANCY ; THE ADVANTAGES WHICH HE HAS DERIVED FROM HIS KNOWLEDGE OF PHRENOLOGY ; HIS RELI- GIOUS OPINIONS INFLUENCED BY IT ; THE PERFORMANCE OF SECU- LAR DUTIES THE BEST PREPARATION FOR A FUTURE STATE ; SICK- NESS AN UNSUITABLE SEASON FOR THE FORMATION OF RELIGIOUS OPINIONS ; MAN'S NATURE ADAPTED TO HIS SPHERE ; DR COMBE'S FEELINGS IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH ; HIS SOCIAL AND PROFES- SIONAL CONDUCT INFLUENCED BY PHRENOLOGY ; ITS PHYSIOLOGI- CAL AND PHILOSOPHICAL EVIDENCES MAY BE VIEWED SEPARATELY ; ITS USE IN THE EDUCATION OF A YOUNG DIPLOMATIST ; ON THE PROPER TIME FOR PUBLISHING NEW OPINIONS. IT has already been mentioned that, in 1834, Dr Combe was forced, by the infirm state of his health, to renounce general, and confine himself to consulting practice ; and that, as a means of supplying an income adequate to his wants, he received into his house two or three young medical students as boarders. After his return from Brussels in 1836, he found his consult- ing practice, and subsequently the profits of his books, more than sufficient to meet his expenses, and he never again undertook the charge of youth. Perhaps the most vigorous period of his life was that which ex- tended from 1837 to 1841. We are now arrived at the latter year, which commences by a severe recurrence of his pulmonary affection, from which he never thorough- DEATH AND CHARACTER OF MRS COX. 387 ly recovered ; and it may be regarded as the beginning of the close of his career. In January he was apparently well ; and as he had derived much pleasure from his two visits to Germany, and intended to return to that country, he joined his brother George and his wife in taking lessons from the late Dr Kombst in the German language. He had attended only one day, when, on the 28th of January, he was suddenly seized, in George Street, with an at- tack of haemoptysis, which alarmed his friends, and called for fresh sacrifices and increased care on his own part. According to the adage that misfortunes never come singly, it happened that at this time his sister, Mrs Cox, was dangerously ill, and her condition excited in him much tender interest and anxiety. As soon as his own circumstances would permit, he was carried in a sedan-chair to visit her at her residence in the vici- nity of his house, and bestowed on her every solace which affection and skill could dictate ; but she sank under the malady, and died on the llth of February, in her 62d year. In 1815, she had been left a widow with six children, all young, to whom a seventh was added after her husband's death, making five sons and two daughters. By the successful exertions of her husband in trade, the family were left in comfortable circumstances, and continued to reside at Gorgie Mill, where Dr Combe had passed many pleasant and profit- able months, during various periods of convalescence from the attacks of disease previously mentioned. Her children were reared and educated by her, under the direction of Dr Combe and his brother George, and be- came greatly attached to their uncles. This volume bears testimony to the manner in which they repaid these cares. The following letters, addressed by Dr Combe to two friends unconnected with the family, and 388 DEATH AND CHARACTER OF MRS COX. written, one of them shortly before, and the other after, his sister's death, may, it is hoped, properly find a place among his other correspondence ; because, although the subject is her character, about which the reader may feel little or no interest, yet the exhibition of the writer's own feelings and opinions called forth by that event, is strictly in accordance with the purposes of the pre- sent work. " EDINBURGH, 1st February 1841. " I received your kind note this morning with pleasure. My sister was always averse to having any ado made about her, and therefore so long as there was any probability of her temporary re- covery, we did not say much about her illness, although from the first we were apprehensive. On Wednesday, however, I meant to tell you about her, when I met the s at your house, which was unfortunate, as they took up all the time I had previous to an ap- pointment. On Thursday, when I saw her for the last time, it was evident she was fast approaching her end ; and within half-an-hour after I left her, my own attack of haemoptysis came on. Calm and peaceful, she still thought only of others ; and it was by her express desire that my nieces took a drive that day, and called at your door, my other sister remaining with her. She very properly remarked, that, if they wished to make her happy, they must keep themselves well, and not unnecessarily confine themselves entirely. " My parting with her on Wednesday and Thursday was so purely peaceful and consolatory, that I submit almost without repining to my inability to be with her again. She felt this also ; and as by that time any professional aid was out of my power, she was only anxious that I should take care of myself at home. Our whole intercourse has been that of unclouded regard and kindness, especially since I lived with her when ill in 1821 and 1822, when I came to know her better than I had ever done before. When she married I was only five years old, and, consequently, scarcely knew her as a sister, in one sense of the word. But since 1821, my regard and respect for her character have, if possible, gone on increasing. If she had enjoyed the advantages of a good education,* she might have done honour to * She was the second child of the family, and was educated only practically, as her mother had been. The higher education of the other and younger members of the family commenced after her father and mother had acquired more knowledge of the value of in- struction. DEATH AND CHARACTER OF MRS COX. 389 any station. For sound-ininded integrity, strong sense of duty, kind- ness, and affection, I know few whom I could compare with her. She would have died at the stake for truth in a good cause. As it was, she felt her want of education and acquaintance with general society, and was, in consequence, shy and retiring, where her natural powers would have fitted her to lead. Of late, it has been a delight to us to see her enjoying the evening of her days in the daily gratification of her best feelings almost without alloy Her feelings were very strong, and for years she struggled to restrain them, as if it were almost sinful to shew great affection for her children and friends ; but at length she took a sounder view, and believed that Grod had given them to add to her happiness. Her mind was, in its balance and natural qualities, the best and highest in our family ; and one of the circumstances which contributed to give me a deep in- terest in the cause of education was perceiving so clearly of what im- mense advantage it would have been to her. She herself felt this deep- ly; and nothing delighted her more than to listen to really instructive and good conversation. Her satisfaction, for the same reason, at any public expression of my brother's services or my own, was so intense and believing (never doubting a word of it), as sometimes to melt me with its depth and sincerity; while I could not but smile at the ready simplicity which made her attach a world of meaning to every word of praise. " In many respects her mind and mine sympathised strongly ; and at this time I was pleasingly struck with one feature of resemblance. When I saw her she was happy in every respect, except in wishing to see Abram [her youngest son, who was then in London]. She had settled everything, thought of everybody, and left kind messages to various friends, and seemed ready to depart in the full belief that the God who had been so kind to her here would not desert her hereafter. There was no repining, nor any wish to stay and enjoy this or that ; but gratitude for the past, and hope for the future. It is often said that hap- piness here makes one cling to life and to the world. My sister's is an example of the contrary ; and I recollect, on various occasions, when particularly happy, the feeling in my mind was something of the same kind. Now I am thankful and ready to depart. Her husband died at 42, cut off at the end of years of active and successful exer- tion, when, in his own mind, he was just arranging to enjoy its fruits in the bosom of his family. He, too, shewed the same cheerful resig- nation. It seems to me, therefore, an error in those who maintain that we ought not to enjoy what God has given us on earth, because it will absorb and debase our minds. God knows the capacities and 390 DEATH AND CHARACTER OF MRS COX. desires He has given us, and would never contradict His own will. It is the abuse of enjoyment that is wrong, not its use. " I have written to you thus at length, because I have a pleasure in the subject, and believe that you will have a sympathy with the feelings which lead to it. I am alone, also, both that I may be quiet, and because there are stronger calls in my sister's house on the atten- tion of my usual companions. Abram fortunately arrived in time. His mother could speak but little, but was much affected on seeing him, and evidently much gratified. I trust she will be spared suf- fering." " EDINBURGH, 18th February 1841. "Your friendly sympathy is very grateful to Miss Cox and myself; we think so much alike on most things, that the mind naturally turns, when deeply interested, to those with whom it can communicate in fulness and sincerity. We have lost a true and a most affectionate friend. I have rarely seen a higher-principled or finer-balanced mind than my sister's." (He adds a particular description of her character, similar to that already given on page 389.) " She had at the same time a dread of everything approaching to meanness or dishonour, no matter how specious or plausible it might look. She was bred in the strictest principles of Calvinism, and, applying her strong sense of duty to them as to everything else, she was most earnest in her endeavours to believe and conform to every shade of doctrine and feeling required of her. When her family grew up a little and left her time to read and think, and also when phrenology gave her for the first time consistent views of human nature and of God's provi- dence, a change gradually came over her, by which her happiness was greatly increased, from its putting an end to the constant struggle which she had long maintained in trying to believe things against which her reason and better feelings revolted ; and from its giving her views of Grod's goodness and wisdom upon which her mind de- lighted to dwell. For several years past she had thus insensibly arrived at religious convictions, under which her high moral nature assumed a still higher and purer standard and aim of action, and her enjoyment became proportionally more intense and abiding. Still, from the long years passed in early subjection to Calvinistic dogmas, we feared that when she should approach her end, old associa- tions might revive, and apprehension arise, excited by disease. The force of truth, however, prevailed ; for never was a more peaceful and confiding end than hers. From the first she felt that she was dying, and I did not attempt to conceal it from her. The effect DEATH AND CHARACTER OF MRS COX. 391 was to rouse all her feelings, if possible, into more sustained activity. She made every practicable arrangement to secure the comfort and happiness of those she left behind ; and was unceasing in her out- pouring of gratitude to God for past goodness and present ease. She expressed the most entire reliance on God's goodness for her future happiness ; and added, that if she was punished in another world for her sins in this, it would be only in a way and to an ex- tent requisite for her own happiness, and that she was anxious now. in the prospect of death, to express her disgust at the doctrine, that God would condemn any of his poor creatures to eternal misery. She felt this to be an outrage on the Divine Being, and said, If a parent shrunk from inflicting suffering on an erring child, was it not sinful to think that God. the Father of all, would be less merciful and less just than poor sinful man ? She then expressed to me the pity she felt for Dr and others, who conscientiously believed, or endeavoured to believe, the doctrine of eternal damnation. " At a later stage of her decline, for a whole day, when her mind was wandering, she unceasingly repeated, ' My God is a good God ;' shewing how strongly her faith in His perfections was rooted. She spoke in perfect humility and single-mindedness, and founded nothing on her own merits. She said she had often foreseen what was now passing, and had fancied us all assembled at her funeral ; begged that we would dine together after it in her house, and said she wished she could be with us. She then expressed a desire that her daughters should not remain out of society, or long refrain from music or other enjoyments, because these were beneficial in their effects, and she had no wish that we should be sad when she was gone. She wished no ' douce faces' around her deathbed. During the last few days of her life, her mind wandered gently, but rarely in suffering : and the con- stant theme of her speech then, as before, was thankfulness for her lot, " Altogether, she has left so many traces of her living and ener- getic mind behind her, and in such an excellent spirit, that it is a pleasure to look upon them ; and I find a difficulty in believing that she is really dead. The lines you quote are thus most appropriate ; I should like to know where you got them. Her loss naturally weighs on our minds; but there are so many high and ennobling asso- ciations connected with her memory, that grief is obscured by the very excellencies which attached us to her. The kindest wish I can form for any one, or for myself, is, that when our time comes, we may de- part as she has done. If her faith be tried by its results, I know not where to seek for a holier or a better." 392 RENEWED AFFECTION OF THE LUNGS. Dr Combe recovered pretty well from the attack of haemoptysis, but in the second week of March he caught cold, and was confined to bed by sub-inflammation of the bronchise and substance of the lungs, till the 23d of that month. Early in April he removed to Gorgie Mill, and remained there till May. In a letter, dated 5th April, addressed to Sir James Clark, he gives a brief recapitulation of the leading features of the pre- vious attacks of pulmonary disease which he had sus- tained, and describes his actual condition : " In January 1832," he says, " in Naples, I had an attack of pneumonia, involving the greater part of the right lung, and it was by very slow degrees indeed, that it became permeable again. The voyage home in June did a good deal for its improvement. At that time the upper part was said to be dull on its own account. Now, my medical friends report that the right lung is in a normal state ; but whether it is still dull under the right clavicle, I do not know. On percussion under the left one, over the first and second ribs, by Dr Farquharson, on Saturday, there was a very distinct and singular sensation, as if he tapped over a piece of semi-elastic wet sponge, or honeycombed substance. This was over a well-defined space of about one-and-a-half inches, by three-quarters of an inch broad. I told you, that when in Brussels, I sometimes experienced, after a particu- lar kind of cough or inspiration, a sensation in the top of the left lung, as if a portion of it was blown up into a vesicle, and would easily give way with an increased effort. I still experience that sensation at times, and often, when I am not thinking about myself at all, it comes suddenly along with a slight cough. I have no other symp- toms worth mentioning. I am now in my usual state, only somewhat thinner, weaker, and, I fancy, shorter-breathed, but in all these re- spects improving." Dr Combe's correspondence was long circumscribed by this illness, and no letters requiring notice appear to have been written by him, till the 14th of July, when he addressed a few lines to his brother George, then at Godesberg on the Rhine, mentioning that he hoped to pay a visit to Mrs Hannay at Robgill Tower, an old border-castle near Annan, and afterwards to go to For- RENEWED AFFECTION OF THE LUNGS. 393 farshire. In a postscript, his constant companion and nurse, Miss Cox, mentions that her brother, Dr James Cox, had examined his chest with the stethoscope, and found, on the whole, symptoms of improvement, which gave him ground for hoping that the patient might still survive this attack. In August, Dr Combe proceeded to London, and was examined by Sir James Clark ; and on the 29th of that month he wrote from Gorgie Mill to his brother George, as follows : " Your and Cecilia's (Mrs Combe's) acceptable letters arrived yes- terday. I had been meditating an epistle to you, and now reply to your very kind offer to give up your plan of wintering in Germany, and to come home for my advantage and comfort. I feel deeply your and Cecilia's kindness and affection in this, knowing, as I do, that you offer only what you are willing and ready to fulfil. Were I to become worse, and begin to take the road down hill, it would be a great comfort to have you near me, as from sympathy of feeling, thought, and pursuit, as well as natural affection and old as- sociation, your society is most valuable to me, especially in time of need. At present, however, thank Heaven, I see no adequate reason to require any such sacrifice on your parts, and think you should carry out your own plans for the winter, without reference to me. I I am entirely without suffering, and in the possession of mauy som-ces of enjoyment ; and whatever the future may have in store for me, of the present I cannot complain. So long as I keep within my ' tether,' I go on comfortably ; and, of course, it is not often that I try to stretch it. " Sir James Clark kindly examined me carefully when in London, ten days ago, and his account of the lung agreed with that given by James Cox. Sir James was not sure what to say of the heart. He thinks the right auricle probably dilated, but advised me to take a little sauntering exercise, instead of refraining entirely, as James had advised. Before examining me, he advised my going to Malta, and afterwards to Rome. After examining me, and hearing my own views, he said that he could not insist, and that, after all, I might be as well at home, knowing, as he did, that I could take rational care of myself. I incline greatly to remain at home ; although I should march at once, if my removal to a warmer climate were pronounced necessary. Our kind niece offers to go anywhere with me, if I wish to go, although she. too, would naturally prefer her own comfortable 394 RENEWED AFFECTION OF THE LUNGS. home. At present, then, I incline to try how matters will go on with me here. If I prosper, I shall remain. If not, I can still move to the Mediterranean late in the year, for up to Christmas we rarely have regular winter in Edinburgh." On 28th September, George Combe received in Mann- heim the following letter from Sir James Clark : " Dr James Cox will be the bearer of this, and will state to you the condition in which he left your brother. I intended, indeed, to have written you on the subject before this time ; but it was a pain- ful task, and I shrank from it from day to day. The painful truth is, and you should know it, I found your brother much worse than I expected when he was in London. He did not feel ill, and, except greater weakness, one could not detect in his appearance that he was in a worse state of health than when he was last in London. But upon examining the chest, I was grieved indeed to find that the lungs, on one side, were aifected to a considerable extent. Such being the case, I gave up all idea of recommending him to go abroad, and willingly consented to his own desire of remaining at home. I have advised him to pass his time in the country, in visiting his friends, as long as the weather remains mild ; and when the winter sets in, to shut him- self up in his own house, taking the necessary steps to ensure a mild temperature and pure air throughout the whole house. This plan he will adopt, and I feel assured it is the best plan for him, all things considered. I only wish that he were nearer me, that I might watch him, and endeavour to prolong yet a little while so valuable a life. My examination of your brother gave me great distress, more than I ever suffered from the examination of a patient ; because it gave me the painful conviction, that my dear friend's life could not, in all human probability, be long preserved. Independently of my personal attachment to your brother, I consider^ him a great benefac- tor of his race ; and if God should spare him a few years longer, he would do still more to promote the welfare of mankind. But I must not dwell on this distressing subject ; Dr Cox will give you par- ticulars." In a letter dated Edinburgh, 1st October 1841, ad- dressed to George Combe, Dr Combe writes : " I have now obtained what I long sought for in vain, the explicit opinion of Sir James Clark and of James Cox on my own state and RENEWED AFFECTION OF THE LUNGS. 395 prospects, and find that Sir James was anxious to make you fully aware that I might die before the end of the winter, and could not be expected to go on much beyond it, that you might arrange accord- ingly. A kind motive kept them from telling me earlier ; but inju- diciously. James Cox seemed so anxious for my going south, that, backed as he was by the opinions of other friends, I wavered at times, although satisfied in my own judgment, that no good and some consi- derable harm might result. Now, I take the whole responsibility on myself, and decide, once for all, that here I remain. The comforts of home and friends are nearly all that are left for me ; and why throw them away ? At present, however, matters move at such a pace that I do not wish you as yet to change your plans on my account. I have told Sir James that if, from the state of the heart or lungs, there is a considerable probability of a sudden finale, I should, in that case, con- sider it better for both you and myself, that you came home. Your presence would then be a comfort not only to me, but to yourself and the family. But if I am likely to go on for many months, I should not wish you to come yet. James Cox would see you and tell you all particulars, so that I need not repeat them. I am thankful to Pro- vidence for having been spared so long and allowed so much enjoy- ment. I am grateful also for present comfort ; and if the future be within my power of bearing easily, I shall be more thankful still. Many things I would have liked still to do ; but I have had years of usefulness beyond what I once expected ; and if I cannot do more, I have the satisfaction of having brought out my three books on Phy- siology, Digestion, and Infancy, not to mention that on Insanity, which, I hope, will help to give a better direction to the inquiries of others, and turn the public mind to things that there is great need of attending to. I may add that, ostensibly and externally, I am much as when you saw me, not suffering in any way, not looking worse than usual, and having no one grievance to complain of." Amidst his own afflictions from bad health, and in the near prospect of bidding adieu to life, Dr Combe never lost interest in his fellow-creatures and the great cause of human improvement. The following letter affords a pleasing example in point. In prosecuting his phrenological investigations, he had early become convinced that a tendency to crime is, in most cases, the result of an unfavourable conformation of brain, generally accompanied by adverse circumstances. He 396 LETTER ON CONVICT MANAGEMENT. therefore took a deep interest in criminal legislation and prison discipline, and regarded the principle of vindictive punishment as inapplicable to the true cha- racter and condition of offenders. He watched with anxious attention the attempts of Captain Maconochie to introduce an improved system of convict manage- ment into Van Diemen's Land ; and, after receiving an account of his appointment to Norfolk Island, and of the success of his treatment on the outcasts of the con- vict population banished to that isolated speck in the ocean, he, on 12th October 1841, wrote the following letter to Mrs Maconochie : " A thousand thanks for your most welcome and deeply interest- ing letter of last March, which reached me about a month ago at Dun- trune. Your description of the effects upon the convicts, of Captain Maconochie's mild and consistent principles of treatment, was very touching and most cheering, as pointing out, more clearly than was ever done before, the path towards improvement, not only in the treatment of convicts, but in moral education, and, I may add, even in the management of the insane. I need hardly say how much your friends here sympathise with you and Captain Maconochie in the vexations, hardships, and deprivations, to which you have been subjected through the hostility of those wedded to the old and brutal system. But it is a bright spot in a dark picture when the scene changes to Norfolk Island, and you reap happiness in the exercise of an enlightened be- nevolence, and change the wail of suffering and harsh voice of oppres- sion into the hymn of gratitude and the cheerful and soothing tones of peace and contentment. I earnestly hope that the Government at home has long ere this made a permanent and satisfactory arrange- ment for Captain Maconochie's continuance, and for supplying him with adequate means. To think of the most unhappy outcasts of a great nation being even without books of instruction from which to learn something good, is not less revolting than extraordinary ; and yet with what tenacity routine holds to past cruelties, even when there is much kindness in the heart which is blinded by it ! Your oppo- nents must be, many of them at least, sincere, but deluded and blinded by mere habit, and yet at what a frightful cost ! I allowed Miss Stir- ling Graham to read aloud to her family party the descriptive part of your letter (not the private part), and it made some of them almost LETTER ON CONVICT MANAGEMENT. 397 melt into tears where you recounted the history of poor Docherty and one or two others. I shewed it also to Mr Maclaren, who was deeply interested by it ; and I felt so anxious that the facts should be known, that I allowed him to print the general part of the letter in the Scots- man. He added an admirable preface.* It excited great interest and attention. If I did wrong in publishing this, you must forgive me ; but I could not resist the opportunity of telling what was doing. I sent you a copy of the paper, and sent others to Dr Channing, Miss H. Martiueau, and others. * * * Great efforts are making in this country for the improvement of prison discipline ; and, in addition to the introduction of the separate system as far as possible into exist- ing prisons, a large general prison or penitentiary is erecting at Perth for the reception of convicts under long sentences, to be confined there instead of being sent to Australia. I was a member of the County Prison Board of last year, and took a warm interest in its proceed- ings ; but the obstacles from ignorance and want of means were very great, and much time will be required to put things on a proper foot- ing. The separate system is certainly an improvement upon its pre- decessors, but it also must be greatly improved before it can be con- sidered efficient, or rather it must be superseded by a better system. But I have no room to enter upon this very comprehensive subject here." After mentioning the state of his health, he adds : " I am now told that it is scarcely expected that I shall survive the winter, or go much beyond it. It may be, then, my dear friend, that this will be the last time we shall hear from each other in this world. If you write, and I be still alive when your letter comes, it will give me pleasure to hear from you once more. If I am gone, my brother will open your letter. May God bless and prosper you both in so good an undertaking, and prosper your family around you. You have many privations, but you must have many enjoyments also ; and if your young people do not suffer from the absence of teachers and want of access to a wider society, you will scarcely regret your tem- porary expatriation." In a letter dated 27th October 1841 (marked " my birth-day"), addressed to George Combe in Mannheim, he writes : * The letter and Mr Maclaren's preface were reprinted in the Phre- nological Journal, vol. xv., p. 22. 398 SLIGHT IMPROVEMENT IN HIS HEALTH. " Within the last few days I have felt more like what I used to be. The perspirations are gone, and the emaciation not advancing ; or, if so, less rapidly at all events. My chest has not been examined for a week past, but I expect to find the left lung somewhat freer ; and if I hold on as during the last week, most certainly you should not think of coming home at present. A seton-issue was proposed over the left first rib, but Dr Farquharson found it impossible, from the absence of any substance to put it in. I have had three blisters on within the last ten days, the last yesterday. To my own eye I have not looked so ill as during some weeks of my illness in 1831-2 ; but for ten days I was rapidly approaching to the same point. I have advantages beyond many ; know pretty well how to manage, how far to venture, and when to stop. I am blessed, thank Grod, with a con- tented and cheerful mind, and with much faith in the advantage of obeying the organic laws. If anybody in my condition can be patched up for a few years more, I think the chances are that /may. If mat- ters have already gone too far for this, I shall at least have smoothed the way, and left no room for needless regret. My kind medical friends all act as if I should myself know best what to do, and I am thus left much to my own devices, with the discomfort of not being always sure that I am right. I have, therefore, asked Dr Farquhar- son to take the charge of me as he would do of any one who knew nothing of medicine to tell me what to do, and I shall do it. I am not capable of judging soundly for myself, and am anxious that I should not be exposed to the disagreeable necessity of attempting to do so." He used often in conversation to remark, " We have not two brains, one to be sick, and another to judge soundly of the sick one's condition." He, therefore, in his various illnesses, uniformly resorted to the best pro- fessional advice which he could command. Under the conviction that Dr Combe was dying, and in the fear that he might speedily become incapable of further mental exertions, George Combe requested him to supply a narrative of his earlier years, and to add a brief mention of his views upon any topics not discussed in his works, which had engaged his thoughts, and which he should have wished to treat in ampler form had his life been prolonged. In compliance with the HIS MOTIVES IN WRITING HIS WORKS. 399 request so made, Dr Combe wrote a series of letters, several of which have been published in the first five chapters of this work, and others of which shall now be presented to the reader. In these there are some re- petitions of facts and thoughts already stated ; but as the letters were written in the near prospect of death, and embody his maturest thoughts and most earnest convictions, they derive an interest from these circum- stances which appears to justify their publication, even at the expense of going over, to some extent, the same ground. In a letter dated Edinburgh, 16th November 1841, he describes as follows HIS MOTIVES IT* WRITING HIS WORKS. " I should like to be remembered by my friends, and associated in their minds with pleasing recollections ; but for more than this I have no desire. I think I can say I never wrote a line from a hope of fame or emolument. Not that I was indifferent either to public opinion or to the value of money ; for I wished that those who knew me at all should think well of me, and I was very well pleased if reward fol- lowed my labours. I can as honestly say, that though pleased and gratified, I never felt elated even by the warmest eulogiums on my writings. At first, I was doubtful whether I possessed the talent of clear exposition. The public satisfied me on that score ; but I never varied in my estimate of the utility of the ideas I sought to commu- nicate. In like manner, I never felt carried away by expressed ap- proval or praise in my private life, for I could never lose sight of the length I really fell short of what I wished to be or do. Often when most praised, my deficiencies came most strongly before me, and made me feel rather shame than pleasure. In the exercise of my profes- sion this was a common occurrence. People expressed obligations and gratitude where, in my inner man, I was conscious only of the shortcomings of knowledge and usefulness, and of the really small amount of my own merits. In this way I have received more credit and kindness than I had any valid claim to. " I have been deeply sensible of the imperfections of medicine as a science in which principles are yet, in a great measure, to be sought 400 STATE OF MEDICAL SCIENCE. for ; and at times, when I felt my mind more than usually vigorous, I fancied that, if I had enjoyed sustained health and energy, I might have contributed to put things on a more solid foundation. But in- firmity diminished my powers of application, and, along with my de- ficient Eventuality, prevented me from acquiring the necessary ex- tent of knowledge, and commanding easily what I possessed. Views which I thought of some value thus passed through my mind, but these I could neither arrest nor elaborate ; and now, I fear, the day has gone by even for the attempt. My books contain many of these views, but not systematised sufficiently to arrest the atten- tion of an unreflecting mind. My correspondence with Sir J. Clark on the course of instruction for medical students (part of it printed privately by the London University Committee on Education) con- tains more of them, and in a more explicit form, but still not di- gested. The bane of medicine and of medical education at present, is its partial and limited scope. Branches of knowledge, valuable in themselves, are studied almost always separately, and without relation to their general bearing upon the one grand object of the medical art, viz., the healthy working or restoration of the whole bodily and mental functions. We have abundance of courses of lectures on all sorts of subjects, but are nowhere taught to groupe their results into practical masses or principles. The higher faculties of the profes- sional mind are thus left in a great measure unexercised. The limited and exclusive knowledge of the observing powers is alone sought after, and an irrational experience is substituted for that which alone is safe, because comprehensive and true in spirit. The mind thus exercised within narroAv limits becomes narrowed and occupied with small things. Small feelings follow, and the natural result is that place in public estimation which narrow-mindedness and cleverness in small things deserve. The profession seeks to put down quacks, to obtain medical reform by act of Parliament, and to acquire public influence ; and a spirit is now active which will bring forth good fruit in due time. An act of Parliament can remedy many absurdities connected with the privileges of old colleges and corporations, and greatly facilitate improvement ; but the grand reform must come from within, and requires no act to legalise its appearance. Let the profession cultivate their art in a liberal and comprehensive spirit, and give evidence of the predominance of the scientific over the trade-like feel- ing, and the public will no longer withhold, their respect or deny their influence. " I have been interrupted here, and had the thread of my discourse broken. Medicine seems to me to be now in a transition state, and STATE OF MEDICAL SCIENCE. 401 about to occupy much higher ground, but a long time will be required to bring about a change. Of late it has been cultivated in so ex- clusive a spirit, and so much like a mere trade, that the higher order of minds is rare among its members, and those who are capable of better things all look forward to some great change. It seems as if society at large were undergoing a revolution. Old principles hare served their day, and will serve no longer, while the new re-organising principles are still the subject of contention ; but good will come out of present evil, and happy they who live to see it ! I recollect, one evening, about a year ago, sketching out an improved system of medi- cine, very much to my satisfaction, in the theatre a place, by the way, where many of my good thoughts and resolutions first came in force into my mind, although it is not generally looked upon as the source of much good. But other occupations prevented me following out my ideas at the time. " One thing that I have long had a wish to publish, is a sketch of the relative duties of doctor and patient a subject on which both stand in need of information ; but this wish also I have not been able to fulfil. Unhappily, I cannot expound my views wrw fixe, and never could ; so that writing is my only fit channel of communication. I have mentioned all these things to you as they occur, because they may interest you after I am gone. * * * " The late Rev. Mr of stopped me one day, to say he had read my Physiology with great satisfaction, and that what pleased him greatly was the vein of genuine piety which pervaded every page, a piety uncontaminated by cant. Some of my good friends who have considered me a lax observer of the outward forms of piety, might laugh at this. Nevertheless, it gave me pleasure, be- cause in my conscience I felt its truth. There is scarcely a single page in all my three physiological works, in which such a feeling was not active as I wrote. The unvarying tendency of my mind is to re- gard the whole laws of the animal economy, and of the universe, as the direct dictates of the Deity ; and in urging compliance with them, it is with the earnestness and reverence due to a Divine command that I do it. I almost lose the consciousness of self in the anxiety to attain the end; and where I see clearly a law of God in our own nature, I rely upon its efficiency for good with a faith and peace which no storm can shake, and feel pity for those who remain blind to its origin, wisdom, and beneficence. I therefore say it solemnly, and with the prospect of death at no distant day, that I experienced great delight, when writing my books, in the consciousness that I was, to the best of my ability, expounding ' the ways of God to man,' and in so far fulfilling one of the highest objects of human existence. God was, in- 2c 402 DK COMBE'S VIEWS OF THE deed, ever present to my thoughts ; but it was as the God of love, and not the Grod of wrath as the Grod of mercy and justice, and not as the Grod of vengeance or oppression. i " There is one part of my conduct which I rejoice at having ad- hered to, and which cost some sacrifice of feeling, viz., not having married. If there is one circumstance which demonstrates more clearly than another a practical unbelief, if not real ignorance, among my brethren, of the importance of physiology as a guide to the im- provement and happiness of the race, it is the culpable recklessness with which medical men often marry, in flagrant opposition to the clearest evidence of constitutional infirmity or actual disease in them- selves or their partners, and thus bring misery on themselves and their offspring. How very few see any harm or immorality in this ! From the natural affections which I possess, I have always felt that man's highest happiness here must be based upon the gratification of his affections in the domestic circle ; and in my individual case, I believe few things could have added so much to my enjoyment as having a good wife and children. But one of the evils of my impaired health, was its having rendered these ' forbidden fruits ' to me ; and although I felt the deprivation, it is now a comfort to me to reflect that no one is involved in my fate except myself." In the following letter, Dr Combe, in reply to his brother's inquiries, states his feelings in regard to the share which his parents had in producing his own in- firm state of health. But it is proper to remind the reader of the facts stated on pages 5 and 14, that his parents were healthy, strong, and active. Near rela- tives of both, however, had died of consumption ; and it is to this imperfection in the stocks of his family, and to the effects of the unhealthy locality in which he was reared, and the injudicious treatment under which he suffered in childhood, that he now refers. " In my own case, I may say that I have never felt that God has been unjust in making me suffer through the fault of my progenitors. On the contrary, infirm as my constitution has been, my abiding feeling has long been that of gratitude, that, with such a frail foundation, so much enjoyment has been granted to me, when so LAW OF DESCENT OF HEREDITARY QUALITIES. 403 many around me, apparently more fortunate than my- self, have encountered so much real suffering. My health has been broken, it is true, and in the prime of youth I was laid aside in idleness when others were busy ; but of suffering in the shape of actual pain, few, I imagine, have escaped with less. With regard to my immediate progenitors, / never experienced a shadow of unpleasant feeling towards them for their share in my infirmities. I had the profound conviction that they at all times anxiously desired my welfare and happi- ness, and that they erred from sheer ignorance, which they themselves could not avoid. I looked upon them merely in the light of passive agents producing a result to which their will gave no consent ; and my feelings to- wards them never wavered on this account. I felt it as a misfortune personal to myself to be so constituted ; but I am unconscious of having felt anything more against them or towards God on that account, than I would have felt against the wind for blowing me over, or a tile for falling upon my head. My abiding feeling was, that I was an individual sufferer under the operation of great laws of nature ordained by God for essentially beneficent purposes, and that I had no right as an indi- vidual to be exempted from certain parts of their appli- cation any more than to be exempted from the action of the wind in a storm. But in this I may be influenced by a constitutional turn of mind. Having from infancy been led to expect little, I have generally been con- tented with the reality when it came ; and even now I consider the injustice of the hereditary infirmity as only apparent; and I might quite as reasonably complain of the injustice of being blown over by the wind, or of slipping on a piece of ice, as of that of inheriting con- stitutional infirmity. " If you ask, Why did not God effect his aim with- 404 MAN'S NATURE ADAPTED TO HIS SPHERE. out inflicting pain or suffering on any of us ? that just opens up the question, Why did God see fit to make man, man, and not an angel ? I can see why a watch- maker makes a watch here and a clock there, because my faculties and nature are on a par with the watch- maker's ; but to understand why God made man what he is, I must have the faculties and comprehension of the Divine Being ; or, in other words, the creature must be the equal of the Creator in intellect before he can understand the cause of his own original formation. Into that, therefore, I am quite contented not to in- quire. " All that really concerns me is the adaptation of man's nature to the sphere in which God has seen fit to place him, and the duties which He has assigned to him. On every side I see evidences of this adaptation; while I see many reasons for believing that, with a different constitution, man would not have been so much adapted to the circumstances in which he is placed. Man's enjoyment must ever consist in the legitimate exercise of the bodily and mental powers which God has given him. But place him, with his present constitu- tion, in a world where he has neither pain nor suffering to apprehend as the result of his transgressions, he would, of necessity, become indolent, and have active happiness replaced by ennui. We cannot tell why God has made one being an almost atomic animalcule, and another a sheep, and a third a man. We cannot tell why He has made us with the precise number and kind of faculties which we possess : but, taking our condi- tion such as He has made it, I see laws presiding over our being which tend to the certain improvement of the race ; and if I am placed nearer the beginning of the chain, and am subjected to evils from which future gene- rations will, by virtue of the same laws, partially pro- FEELINGS IN THE PROSPECT'OF DEATH. 405 tect themselves, I am in so far less fortunate than they. But, on the other hand, I have had an advantage over those who have gone before me ; and, viewing myself as merely one atom in a great whole, I have no right to complain of my relative position in creation. " I regret, I need hardly say, the prospect of being soon called away from a scene in which I have had much enjoyment, and endeavoured to be of some use : I would like to live, and would give a good deal to have my existence prolonged on the same terms, and to com- plete the development of views which, rightly or wrong- ly, I believe to be important to human welfare. I feel regret, too, that at the very time, apparently, when the means of useful enjoyment came, as it were, for the first time freely within my reach, I should be called upon to leave all, and to leave the friends now gathered around me. I even have felt considerable regret in think- ing that now, when I had such a comfortable home, and so many advantages around me, I was to be taken away just when they had been secured. But this regret has been greatly lessened by the consciousness, even when buying the house and planning the required improve- ments, that I was merely to be a passing occupant, and had no permanent interest in them. I feel regret, then, that such is to be my fate ; but I am unconscious of repining, or of blaming either Providence or mankind, and see no hardship in my case to warrant complaint. I am led to think that in this I may owe something to natural disposition,'as well as to intellectual perception." In Dr Combe's next letter to his brother George, dated 8th, 9th, 10th, and 14th December 1841, he writes : " Without any marked change from week to week, I believe I am going slowly and gently down hill free from suffering, however, and from any constitutional disturbance. For this I am very thankful, 406 RELIGIOUS VIEWS INFLUENCED BY PHRENOLOGY. whatever may be in store for me. It is probable that gradual decay will be the course of the change, although at times I consider a sudden termination as not unlikely. For the sake of every one about me, as well as myself, the latter would be preferable ; but I shall try to sub- mit with resignation to whatever may be my lot. " In mentioning Horace Mann's opinion of my ' Infancy,' you re- mind me to say, first, that I read his letter with great satisfaction before sending it to you ; and, secondly, that the favourable judgment pronounced by a man like him, gives me more real pleasure than the undiscriminating praise of less competent judges. He satisfies me that I was not mistaken in the belief that I had sketched, in outline at least, principles which will be of service in promoting human wel- fare and improvement, at the important period of life to which they re- fer. Principles founded on the study of nature require only to be fully developed, and purified from the errors of their expounder, to consti- tute a safe guide to the latest generation. My exposition of the prin- ciples of infant-management will, in due time, be superseded by a bet- ter ; but it is a very great satisfaction to have lived to bring them to- gether in a harmonious and practical form, and thus to have contribu- ted to the eifecting of future and more rapid and certain improvement. " I dare say many good men, with their present lights, would look upon your estimate and mine of the value of the truths we try to dif- fuse, as ludicrously extravagant, and indicating only morbidly active self-esteem. But it may be truly said, that in placing faith in the principles we advocate, we place faith in Grod's beneficent laws, and not in our own feeble faculties. I believe that I rate my own powers with a fair share of humility ; and yet I can see no trace of inconsis- tency or presumption in declaring, in the face of the Avorld, that I am convinced that such of the principles expounded in my writings as are true will one day be widely diffused, and lead to an impor- tant improvement in the condition of man. I can say so with all humility, because the principles, so far as true, are of Grod's making, not of mine, and I explain only what He has ordained. I am, of course, equally at liberty to speak as I think of the ultimate effects of your own works in this respect ; and with the prospect of early death before me, I am not in a condition of mind favourable for uttering phrases of mere flattery or inconsiderateness. " In regard to the influence of Phrenology on my religious views I think it right to add, that I never knew what peace of mind on religious subjects was, till I arrived by slow degrees at my present views most of them more than twenty years ago ; and that, such as they are, they have stood the test of my illnesses in 1820-1-2, and 1831-2-3, and continue to this hour to satisfy my judgment and support my faith in RELIGIOUS VIEWS INFLUENCED BY PHRENOLOGY. 407 unhesitating reliance upon the goodness of the Being who created me. In this reliance, I am wholly uninfluenced by any real or supposed merits of my own ; for I know my weakness on that score. As I told you in a former letter (see p. 34), I am naturally strongly susceptible of religious impressions, and my thoughts turn habitually to, and hare always had great delight in, the investigation and contemplation of the works, laws, and attributes of God. * * * Almost from in- fancy, however, I felt repelled and puzzled by the representations, from the pulpit and in the Catechism, of the corrupt condition and dreadful prospects of man. Doubts thus arose in my mind regarding these points, from what I heard at church and was taught at home, and from the contradiction which I saw everywhere between doctrine and practice. I never had read any heterodox book or heard any heterodox conversation, or had any source but reflection on what I heard from the pulpit and read in the Bible, from which to form my opinions ; and I well recollect, that, even with you, I never touched upon the subject till after my own mind was made up and then acci- dent led to the discovery, that we had both passed through a similar process of thought, and arrived at the same conclusions on the points referred to. Phrenology was a great blessing to me in finally clear- ing up and giving consistency to my views, and consequently in giving me an abiding peace of mind. By explaining the source of my own feelings, and of certain prevailing dogmas, in the workings of the primitive faculties of the mind, often unregulated by knowledge or reason, and elucidating the relations of man to his Creator and to the external world, it effectually removed my difficulties, and threw a clear and sustaining light upon obscurities which had previously bewildered me. It thus gave me that firm and improving trust in God, which has been to me the source of much happiness, and I hope of some improvement, and has since been the abiding feeling of my mind. " December 14. I cannot agree with those religious persons who, too exclusively intent upon a future existence, think it becoming, and even an act of duty, to despise their present sphere, and treat it as altogether unworthy of their thoughts. They seem to forget that it was God who sent them hither, and who rules this world which they seek to vilify. If we act in harmony with the conditions under which the organism is placed, and with the moral laws, we not only reap happiness for ourselves, but become instrumental in increasing the happiness of others. At the same time, our nature becomes improved, and we lire and rejoice in a purer moral atmosphere. This is the certain result of rightly fulfilling the duties of the present world ; and where can a more natural or lasting source of love and gratitude 408 SICKNESS NOT A FIT SEASON to Grod and submission to His will be found, than in such conduct and such results ? or what can be a better or more natural prepara- tion for a higher sphere of existence ? I think, therefore, that even those who regard this world as merely a place of preparation for a better, ought first to look to their duties in the world where they now exist, in the assurance that the God who presides everywhere will never assign it as a reason for excluding them from future hap- piness that they have been too steadfast in obeying His will here. 11 Connected with this subject, I have been lately reading a small work entitled ' Decapolis; or the Individual Obligation of Christians to save Souls from Death. By the Rev. D. E. Ford. Eighth Thou- sand.' It is in high repute, and although it contains a great deal from which I dissent, there are some striking remarks in it, derived from his experience of twenty years in actual life. "We hear a great deal about a deathbed being a trial of a man's faith, and of sickness being the fit season to make a proper impression upon a man's mind of the im- portance of faith, and also of affliction being sent on purpose to open men's eyes to their sinful condition. Physiology, which teaches the dependence of sound thinking and feeling upon a healthy organism, and the origin of much depression and anxiety in the opposite state of disease, disclaims the propositions, and affirms that health is the sea- son in which a man ought to make up his opinions, fix his faith, and prepare to die ; and that the anxieties during illness of a man who has done so, are to be regarded merely as symptoms of his disease, and not as indications of his true state of mind. Mr Ford, a divine, and an apparently pious man, has been led by experience to take precisely the same views, and candidly avows that he attaches little weight to the religious visitation of the sick. ' A pastorate of nearly twenty years,' says he, ' has made me familiar with scenes of affliction. I can hardly remember a case in which sickness did not dispose the mind to think seriously of religion, especially when early associations led that way. But how has it been with those who have returned to life again ? They have left their religion in the chamber of affliction, and not a vestige of piety has remained to attest the genuineness of their conversion,' &c. (p. 30.) He continues : ' I have seen sinners brought to Grod amidst all the varieties of Christian experience : some by the terrors of the law, others by the attractions of the cross ; some by a long and almost im- perceptible process, others comparatively in a moment ; but scarcely in a single instance have I found conversion, or even real awakening, dated from affliction. If ten were cleansed, where are the nine ? It has happened unto them according to the true proverb, The dog is turned to his own vomit again ; and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire, (2 Peter ii. 22.) Would that piety which FOR FORMING RELIGIOUS OPINIONS. 409 could not stand the test of a return to life, have availed the soul in death ? Let conscience say.' In other places Mr Ford returns to this subject. ' Never can it be too deeply impressed on the minds of all who are anxious to bring sinners to Christ, that health is the season of benefit as well as of usefulness. . . . The sick demand our kind- ness, our sympathy, and our prayers ; but if we wish to save men's souls, our chief attention must be directed to those who need no other physician. Through inattention to this point, some of the best ener- gies of the church have been thrown away. Persons in all diseases, and in all stages of disease, have been eagerly sought out, with the benevolent intention of shewing them the way to heaven ; while the healthful inmates of the same dwelling have been left to pursue their own path to hell, without one word of entreaty or warning. In many instances the visitation of the sick is perfectly useless I have attended persons in malignant fevers, who seemed perfectly con- scious at the time, and exceedingly thankful for my visits, but tcho, on re- covery, had not the slightest recollection of anything that had taken place? This is honestly stated, and is just what might have been expected ; and yet when a sick person shews anxiety about the future, how much importance is attached to it, as a proof of his sinful and dangerous state ! It may be that, in the hour of trial, when my bodily frame becomes enfeebled by disease, and my mind impaired in its action by a decaying organism, the associations of childhood will (as often hap- pens with respect to ordinary things and feelings) revive, and apprehen- sion and distrust of the future again come into play. But if this should happen, I beg beforehand that the result may be referred by my friends to its true cause, and not to a rational conviction of my present views being erroneous, and calculated to be the source of regret to myself. When the mind is so far impaired by disease as to be unable to judge soundly in regard to ordinary affairs, it surely cannot be considered as in a fit state to examine anew the grounds of its religious opinions. Mr Ford, indeed, settles the point clearly enough, and in his opinion I entirely concur." On the 24th December, he writes : " To continue the subject left off at the end of my letter of 14th December (see p. 139), I may mention that part of the advantages conferred upon me in my professional capacity by Phrenology, con- sisted, first, in the much clearer light which it threw upon the origin and nature of nervous and mental diseases, and, secondly, in the power which it gave me of discriminating the dispositions and tendencies of individual patients, and appreciating the influence of these qualities on the progress of their diseases, and in their con- 410 USE OF PHRENOLOGY IN MEDICAL PRACTICE. duct towards myself and those about them, and also in the facilities which it afforded me in regulating and turning these dispositions to account for their behoof. This knowledge not only enabled me to bear without disturbance the many little rubs and disagreeables which the irritability of disease calls forth from some characters on all around them, and which, rightly viewed, are as harmless as, viewed in a wrong light, they are harassing and vexatious ; but also enabled me to gain the confidence of my patients, and soothe and sympathise with them in a way which gave them great comfort, and promoted their recovery, with- out calling for any mere flattery or sacrifice of truth in what I said to them. It enabled me, in short, to address myself to the individual in a way which ' the individual' felt to apply to him as a separate being endowed with qualities of his own ; instead of merely addressing to each words of comfort and good-nature equally applicable to every one, and which, therefore, no one feels as appropriate to his own peculiar use. I know many kind and good physicians who fail to exert any bene- ficial moral influence on their patients, from this very generality of speech. Their skill is appreciated, and, in acute diseases, they are highly valued for decision ; but in the more chronic cases, constitu- ting the large mass of human ailments, their efficiency is impaired by want of individual appreciation. From the facilities which Phreno- logy afforded me in discriminating the dispositions of my patients, aided by some natural tact, I often excited the surprise of the patients themselves, at the justness with which I entered into their feelings and condition. I have not unfrequently been told, after a time, by those whom I had not known before their illness, that they had great com- fort in seeing me, because I seemed to ' know them so well ;' and they were ' sure I was their friend,' as if ' I had always known them.' Some patients of this kind, I have been told by themselves, on com- paring notes with others similarly circumstanced, expressed much gra- tification at the personal regard their doctor had for them, and were astonished to be met with the same assurance from the other party ; having previously been under the impression that an accurate appre- ciation of, or sympathy with one, could arise only from some unusual harmony of mind peculiar to them as individuals, and could not be ex- tended to a second or a third party. This result, I need hardly say to you, did not spring from flattery of their weaknesses, for, even had I used that means, it would never have produced real regard or respect for me. It was merely from shewing an interest in them, appealing to their better feelings as individuals, and expounding honestly where they had gone wrong, and how they ought to protect themselves for the future. In short, I made it evident to them that my object was their indivi- dual welfare, and that any influence I might gain over them was to be USE OF PHRENOLOGY IN MEDICAL PRACTICE. 411 exerted solely for their own good. Those who are not familiar with the manner in which Phrenology mixes itself up with a man's whole thoughts and feelings, when he has once gained a thorough knowledge of it and is convinced of its truth, will be unable to conceive the extent to which it really availed me in this way, and will fancy that I ascribe to it what resulted entirely from natural tact ; but I, who know from consciousness what passed within me, and am aware that without its aid, to shew me clearly my own position relatively to my patients, and how to act advantageously upon each, am a better judge in this ques- tion than they are. I was in a position similar to that of a thorough chemist, who, trained to philosophic thinking, lays useful results be- fore the ' practical ' man, so clearly and simply, that the latter is apt to imagine them destitute of depth, and the mere inspiration of ' com- mon sense.' If the uninformed practical man requires to be shewn how the other's chemical knowledge availed him so extensively, it is obvious that the latter could not make the former comprehend him without previously teaching him chemistry. The ignorant man does not possess the elements of sound judgment in such a question. Pre- cisely the same rule applies to my case. You can understand me, be- cause you have the requisite knowledge. But one ignorant of Phre- nology cannot understand me, because he has only the word ' Phreno- logy' in his own mind, and very naturally is conscious of not being able to turn it to much account. But neither could I when I was in a similar state of ignorance. " December 25. One great comfort I often derived from Phreno- logy arose from its exposing so clearly the source, in another, of bad temper, querulousness, anxiety, or depression ; and from the spirit of humane toleration and calmness with which that knowledge enabled me to meet their unreasonable manifestations in my patients, instead of regarding them, as I often might have done, as personal and inten- tional indignities. A sensible and kind patient, with large Cautious- ness and moderate intellect, suffers, under the irritability of disease, a fidgetty and restless anxiety and apprehension, which is often ex- tremely troublesome to a medical adviser, and shews itself, at times, in the shape of distrust of his skill, and attentions, and remedies. If one regards this as the result of a settled conviction and as an intentional exhibition of disrespect, it becomes annoying and intolerable to one's feelings. But if it be viewed more accurately as a mere symptom, like pain, disagreeable to the patient himself, and indicating only a morbid condition of Cautiousness, it will rouse feelings of a very different kind; and all our efforts will be excited to relieve him from it, as from the pains of toothache, in the full assurance that the kindly feeling and confidence first shewn will return (if they were ever really shaken) 412 USE OF PHRENOLOGY IN MEDICAL PRACTICE. with the removal of the morbid action. In the same way, even the over-anxiety of the patient's friends, who, perhaps, are personally un- acquainted with his medical adviser, sometimes leads them to speak rashly in condemnation of the treatment pursued, and to recommend some one else to be consulted. In a case of this kind, common sense dictates that the physician should make allowance for the natural con- cern of friends, and not inconsiderately take offence where, at bottom, none is meant to be given. But even here, I have felt great comfort in the clearness with which Phrenology shews that such exhibitions of distrust are merely emanations of good feelings over-excited by inte- rest in the suffering patient, and not at all intended to inflict pain on others. A physician can easily tell whether he possesses the confi- dence of a patient and his family or not. Where he feels that he does, and yet meets with a rub of this kind, if he sees its true source in the disease itself, he will rather smile than take offence, and good-hu- mouredly endeavour to soothe the painful excitement of the patient's mind, without for a moment letting it be imagined that he has taken up the expression in a personal sense. The patient, conscious in his own mind that he has wrongly given utterance to an expression of distrust which he ought to have controlled, is relieved by finding that his ad- viser has the good sense to perceive its true origin in disease ; and the ultimate result is increased confidence in him, both professionally and as a man. I have known soreness and painful quarrels arise between well-meaning people, from overlooking the true meaning of peevish complaints extorted by disease alone. Common sense is sufficient to blunt the edge of such apparent attacks upon a professional man ; but Phrenology, I would say, removes their sting entirely, and brings them within the same category as a quick pulse or a throbbing pain. Of course, I speak only of cases in which confidence is really felt. Where it is not, the difference is easily discovered, and then the best course for both parties is to cease their connexion, as unsuited to each other. The same principle applies, I need hardly say, to ebullitions of temper and impatience during illness. " The aid which Phrenology affords in discriminating the true nature of nervous and mental diseases, and inenabling the physician and attend- ants to regulate their physical and especially their moral treatment, on clear, consistent, and intelligible principles, is very great much greater, indeed, than an uninformed though sensible on-looker could imagine or believe. The advantage which a phrenological physician has in his own intercourse with a nervous patient consists, not merely in the clearer view which he obtains of the nature of the disease, but in the facilities which he possesses for working upon the sound faculties of the mind, and removing all objects calculated to rouse those which are USE OF PHRENOLOGY IN MEDICAL PRACTICE. 413 morbidly susceptible. Knowing the functions of the primitive powers of the mind, he is aware what objects are specially related to each, what ought to be avoided, and what cherished. He can enter into conversation with the patient intelligently, and make him feel that he really knows his true state. This is the first step to confidence in nervous disease ; and confidence, as Esquirol long ago remarked, is the first step to the cure of the insane. I have often been told most feelingly by nervous, and sometimes by insane patients, that I under- stood them better than any one they had come into contact with." In a letter dated 23d January 1842, he continues the subject as follows : " In speaking of the benefits conferred upon me by Phrenology, I mentioned the great assistance it had afforded me in discriminating the exact mental condition of nervous and insane patients, and the comfort many of them expressed in feeling that ' I understood them,' 1 and could appreciate their difficulties and contending emotions. I added, that in this I was aided by natural tact, but that I was con- scious of being guided to a great extent by my phrenological know- ledge marking so clearly the limits between the morbid and healthy manifestations, and enabling me to act accordingly with a consistency and decision otherwise unattainable. Curiously enough, I had a note yesterday from a former patient, which speaks to the point in such a way as to relieve me from the charge of assuming more than the reality, and corroborates my statement as to the comfort imparted to the patient. I may therefore copy a part of it ; premising that the lady's mental health had been overset by a lamentable occurrence, and that at the time of her applying to me, her first attack was over, but for many months her mind had been again vibrating between the alternate states of depression and excitement which were every day advancing more and more towards another paroxysm. Her friends, under a most mistaken idea of her condition, rallied her for giving way when she was depressed, and were delighted with, and encouraged by every means in their power, ' the fine spirits ' of her period of ex- citement ; and being a highly conscientious and excellent woman, she tried to act upon their views, and of course brought matters only the nearer to a crisis. She lived at a considerable distance, and I had never seen her. Her letters, and the answers I got to inquiries, shewed at once the true state of the case ; and when I entreated her and her friends to be even more on their guard against the high than the low spirits, and scrupulously to avoid cherishing excitement, they were amazed and distrusted me, and she answered that she was glad to have 414 USE OF PHRENOLOGY IN MEDICAL PRACTICE. my decided opinion to guide her, for that in her own consciousness she often felt as if in her excitement and high spirits she would lose com- mand of her reason and go mad, while she had still so much regard for the judgment of her friends that she was influenced by it. Farther and more confidential correspondence led me to a clearer view of the state of her feelings and understanding, and confirmed me in my opinion. I acted accordingly, and with excellent effect. The friends co-operated, and, the benefit being recognised, the danger was warded off, and at last a state of even mental health restored. Personal intercourse afterwards enabled me to understand the minuter shades of character, and to direct her treatment with increased effect. She has now been above two years in excellent health, and from gratitude has been sending me game, fowls, &c., from the country during my illness ; and her note of yesterday says : ' I have told you before what a blessing under Grod you have been to me, and how much I am indebted to you for restored health of mind and body. I feel more and more the value of the ad- vices I have received from you from time to time ; and how pleasantly have they all been given to me ! At first I felt confidence in you, and oh ! the comfort it has been to me to feel you always understood me. "When I told you of what I had mentally endured, I felt that I was not an unintelligible mystery to you. It was not that you said you understood me, but I quite felt that you did. You never misconstrued or misunderstood me, and I feel you my true and valuable friend.' The italics are her own, and she adds that in any future letters she will not indulge in any such expression of her feelings, but that, in con- sequence of a peculiarity of present circumstances, she could not re- frain. ' I am well and peaceful and happy ; and I know you like to hear this from myself.' These are examples of many similar ex- pressions used by other patients ; but while I know that without Phrenology many of these cases would have continued an ' unintelli- gible mystery ' to me, so far as everything consistent and practical was concerned, how could I make any one who was ignorant of Phre- nology believe the fact ? No one not familiar with its views and ap- plications could understand me." " One of the improvements which I think may be beneficially in- troduced into our expositions of Phrenology, is to draw a marked line of distinction between its physiological and philosophical aspects, as is partially done, but not sufficiently, in my article in Forbes's Re- view.* If its physiological evidences were treated of separately from its philosophical, it would be rendered clearer and more acceptable to both classes of inquirers. At present the two are so mixed up, that the attention of the physiologist fails to apply itself to or appreciate * See page 371. TWO KINDS OF EVIDENCE OF PHRENOLOGY. 415 the philosophical evidence, from not getting either connectedly or as a whole ; and vice versa with the philosopher. If, on the other hand, it were made palpable from the outset that there are two kinds of evidence which require to he judged differently, the one physiolo- gical, shewing the connection between the mind and the brain, and between individual faculties and individual cerebral parts, and the other philosophical, resting, like other attempted systems of philoso- phy, upon its adaptation to the phenomena of human nature, and its applicability to the purposes of education and the practical affairs of life, I believe that it would prove less difficult to enlist fresh minds in the inquiry. The complement of the evidence would be the com- bination of both to clench the conviction arising from each. It is true that we are aware of the difference : but in our expositions we have never yet brought forward the distinction with sufficient promi- nence ; and the aspect of Phrenology might thus be rendered both more scientific and more philosophical, and, consequently, more at- tractive to prejudiced but thinking men. As a theory of mental phi- losophy, it admits of proof by its universal application to human na- ture ; and no one who has ever studied Stewart, Reid, or Brown, can refuse to judge of its pretensions by proofs analogous to those founded on in other metaphysical systems. As a branch of physiology, no one who traces the concomitance of function and nervous fibre can consistently refuse to apply the same method to the brain. We know that the human brain, in its earliest type, is that of a reptile or fish, and that it goes through the ascending gradation of animal existence, till it becomes human. We know also that animals acquire new func- tions with every addition to their nervous system. Now it is in this department especially, that, had you and I been scientific comparative . anatomists, we might have done more than has yet been done to give Phrenology such a scientific and broad foundation as to compel the at- tention of physiologists to its claims and importance. Yimont has done a good deal, but he has left much to be supplied. You and I want the requisite knowledge and opportunities of obtaining it." In a letter written about the same time to Sir James Clark, he once more expresses his opinion of the im- portance of Phrenology as follows : " I return my brother's letter on the studies most useful to a young diplomatist, with many thanks. I concur in his views ; but he has omitted (I suppose from its being too obvious to require remark) to notice history, and especially historical memoirs and biographies of public and political personages. The latter are invaluable, from throwing light upon the private motives and causes of public events, 416 ON THE PROPER TIME and unveiling human nature far more than the mere history of events can do. I could say much also in favour of Phrenology, as a key to the human mind, and as invaluable to a character like 's. It shews one where reliance can be safely placed, and gives just confi- dence in the good of human nature, from shewing the solidity of its foundations. By indicating where reliance would be unsafe, it pre- vents general suspiciousness, and induces charitable feeling to predo- minate even while providing against the doings of bad men, and many more good things which I cannot now expound, and which, without some knowledge of it, could not be rightly understood. I do not mean that it prevents one from ever making mistakes ; but it greatly diminishes their number, and adds to practical happiness. I would not, had I the last twenty years to live over again, take 1000 a-year and be without my phrenological knowledge." In the following letter, dated in January 1842, and addressed to his brother George, Dr Combe states his opinion of THE PEOPBK TIME FOR PUBLISHING NEW OPINIONS. " You mentioned in a late letter the difficulty you felt in determining, in some instances, between the duty of consulting expediency, and that of publishing unre- servedly all one's views, without reference to time or consequences. In my letter of 21st December, I had, by anticipation, stated some of my own opinions on the subject. Soon afterwards I began to read D'Aubigne's History of the Reformation, and was struck by the difference between Luther and Erasmus in this respect. Luther began by diffusing sounder views of faith and justification, and at this time was not aware of the hol- lowness of the whole system of Popery. He treated it and the Pope with great veneration, and wished only to correct a few important errors. Erasmus saw that he was right, and applauded him. As Luther, however, went on, his eyes opened, and he laid about him to destroy, instead of simply amending. ' Stop, friend,' says Erasmus, ' here you and I must part. Bring for- ward truth quietly and discreetly, but don't knock FOR PUBLISHING NEW OPINIONS. 417 your head against the Pope's horns, or enthroned er- rors. Leave them to fall at their own time.' D'Au- bigne accuses Erasmus of timidity and worldly-minded- ness, perhaps with some justice, and lauds Luther for buckling on his armour and marching to the attack. We know what followed. The Reformation came, and all its good and evil consequences. But it is a matter for grave consideration, whether more good would not have resulted, had the plan been pursued of diffusing truth quietly, and leaving Popery, indulgences, purgatory, &c., to tumble at their leisure, by their own downward tendency. The progress would unquestionably have been slower ; but had light and reason been more widely diffused among the masses as well as among the lead- ing few, and had the latter had more time to scan their true position, and familiarize their minds with their own advances, is it not highly probable that the fatal drag of enchaining creeds would have been avoided from the first, and that, from the very dawn of the Reforma- tion, religion would have advanced abreast of human knowledge, and adapted itself to the minds of living men, instead of becoming a Sunday abstraction ? Even in Luther's day, a few thinking minds foresaw the danger of creeds ; and I am much inclined to believe, that had the Reformation been a slower and more gene- ral and enlightened movement, mankind would have been greatly the gainers. The Roman church had placed itself in a position which rendered its downfal inevitable ; and with time its subversion would have been more complete, and the multifarious sects arising out of creeds, would probably have had either no exist- ence, or one less marked by the bitterness of conten- tion. " Luther's own history affords some curious illustra- tions of the principle which I am disposed to adopt, 2 D 418 ON THE PROPER TIME with regard to the course to be pursued in the diffu- sion of new truths. His biographer is a warm admirer of Luther's courage and plain speaking at all hazards ; and yet, when Luther lapses into defiance of his oppo- nents, and unfolds his ultimate aims somewhat forcibly, D'Aubigne cannot help remarking how fortunate it was for the Reformation, that he did not fall into such un- guarded expressions at an earlier period, and that God did not permit him to see the whole truth from the first, as otherwise he probably would have assumed a bold tone, and brought evil upon himself and the cause, from the public mind not being prepared and ready to support him. Again, there is the striking testimony of Luther himself. When he was shut up in the castle of Wartburg for safety, after his excommunication by the Pope, some of his more enthusiastic followers at Wittenberg, left without his guidance, trusted entirely to grace and the Spirit, put away instruction and all sobriety of mind, abolished the mass, destroyed the images, turned out the priests, and gave way to a tyran- ny and licentiousness, which set the authorities at open defiance, and regarded nothing. Luther hastened from his shelter to restore order. He found them excited and furious. He poured oil upon the troubled waters with admirable skill. He gave notice that he would preach. A prodigious crowd assembled. He appeared calm and friendly in his manner, told them what the spirit of the gospel was, and what it required. Faith alone will not do. LOVE must be added to it. Observe a mother with her babe, the mild food she begins with. 4 How have you done with your brother ? Have you been long enough at the breast ? It is well ! but permit your brother to drink as long as yourself.' In this way he led them by general principles, which wounded no man, into composure and sense, and then gradually diverged FOR PUBLISHING NEW OPINIONS. 419 into particulars. ' You say it is agreeable to Scripture to abolish the mass. Be it so ; but what order, what decency have you observed ?' &c. * The mass is a bad thing. God is opposed to it. It ought to be abolished, and the Supper put in its place ; but let none be torn from it by force. We must leave results to God. It is He who must conquer, not we. Our first aim must be to luin the heart ; each will then withdraw from the mass,' &c. &c. In the same calm and earnest manner he referred to the breaking of the images, and the com- pulsion they had exercised about the sacraments, and shewed them that all this was a sad abuse. The result was, that the tumult subsided, sedition was silenced, authority re-established, and the burghers returned to their senses and their dwellings. ' His moderation was his strength,' says D'Aubigne. ' He allowed not a word to escape him against the originators of these disorders; not a word which could wound their feelings.'* " Had Luther been always thus self-possessed and true to his own principles, the results would have been of a similar kind on other occasions. With regard to the obstructive influence of creeds upon human progress, it is instructive to remark, that at this time Luther saw clearly the advantage of entire freedom. ' The most ab- solute liberty prevailed at Wittenberg. Every one was free to wear or lay aside the monastic habit. In coming to the Lord's Supper, persons might receive only the ge- neral absolution, or apply for a special one. It was re- cognised as a principle to reject nothing but what con- tradicts a clear and express declaration of Scripture. It was no indifference which led to this course ; on the con- trary, religion was recalled to its essential principle. Piety only withdrew from the accessory forms in which * Lib. tit., B. ix., chap. 8. 420 ON THE PROPER TIME it had been wellnigh lost, that it might rest on its true basis. Thus was the Reformation itself preserved, and the Churches teaching progressively developed in love and truth.' 1 (Vol. iii., p. 100.) It was a personal quarrel, from jealousy, with Carlstadt, which gave an impulse to his passion, and led him to lay down the views which after- wards he converted into a distinctive creed. But I need not go on. With regard to martyrdom and moral persecution, my conviction at present is, that one ought to abide by them when truth requires it, but that every thing should be done, in the way of diffusing truth, to avoid drawing them on one. When new truths are put forward on their own basis with calm earnestness, and prevailing errors are not directly assailed without a positive necessity for the assault, the public mind re- mains more open to the admission and diffusion of the truth, and a moral influence in their favour is gained by prudent forbearance towards prevailing error; so that when the public mind becomes prepared for the sub- version of the latter, the effete opinions will be quietly replaced by the living truths. All the evils of the Refor- mation arose from, and were proportioned to, the amount of public ignorance. Hence Belgium and other places which received it hastily, went farthest in abusing it, and relapsed permanently into Popery and bigotry; while Brandenburg, which received it with distrust, and yielded very slowly to the force of evidence, used it best, and remained true. " I give this simply as a principle worth consider- ing attentively. My own mind is not quite made up as to its universal applicability. But the evils of knocking down without supplying the place of esta- blished and influential errors, seem to me so great, that if it were in my power at one blow to sweep away all errors in religion, leaving the human mind, quoad ultra, FOB PUBLISHING NEW OPINIONS. 421 to its existing resources, I would not do it. Changes in the belief and practical application of principles are so very slow, that God seems to have purposely ren- dered us tenacious even of error, to prevent our being cast loose without compass or guide of any kind. The more we cling to error, in ignorance that it is so, the more shall we cling lovingly to truth when we come to see it in all its manliness, purity, and beauty. So necessary, indeed, does the adhesion to even erroneous views seem to me as a part of the benevolent scheme of Providence, that some time ago I resolved to write an edifying essay ' On the uses of prejudice, passion, misrepresentation, and abuse, as means of moral im- provement and intellectual progress ? and I am confident I could make out as clear a case in their favour as in favour of physical pain as a protector to the animal economy. My resolution, like many others, gave way to the dictates of my infirm health. " You know I once was desirous that should write a Life of Calvin. It is a great work, which the world still requires from some philosophic mind, and will be rendered easier by a book lately published, highly com- mended by the Athenceum, entitled, ' Histoire de la Vie de Calvin. Par Mons. Audiu. Chez Marson, Paris.' He had obtained original letters and documents, which threw new light on Calvin's conduct. It has been said in excuse for the burning of Servetus, that it was a momentary aberration under excitement. But Audin here produces an authentic letter of Calvin, written six years before that time ; and in it Calvin declares, that if Servetus place himself at any time within his reach (at Geneva), he will take care that he shall not leave it alive. He shews himself to have been nearly without any of the domestic affections. He writes of his mother's death simply as a fact, and requests his friend 422 CHARACTER OP CALVIN. to procure him a wife who will be obedient, economical, and take care of his health. These, he says, are the only * beauties ' he cares for. His only child dies, and the loss never disturbs him for a moment. Such is the man whose natural sternness imposed its heavy yoke upon those who, eager to equal him, did their utmost to crush their affections, as the best peace-offering to God ! If Calvin were exhibited in his true light, calmly and consistently, his worshippers would be less nume- rous." DR COMBE'S CONDITION IN 1841-42. 423 CHAPTER XXV. DR COMBE'S RESIDENCE, STATE OF HEALTH, AND HABITS, IN THE WINTER 1841-2. HIS CONDITION IN APRIL 1842 DESCRIBED IN A LETTER TO SIB JAMES CLARK. PASSES MOST OF THE SUMMER AT GORGIE MILL. ANXIETY ABOUT HIS BROTHER GEORGE'S HEALTH. LETTER TO MR WILLIAM TAIT ON THE DEATH OF MR ROBERT NICOLL. LETTER TO MISS STIRLING GRAHAM, EXPRESSIVE OF SOME OF HIS FEEL- IKGS IN THE NEAR PROSPECT OF DEATH. HE GOES TO LONDON, IS EXAMINED BY SIR JAMES CLABK, AND ADVISED TO PASS THE AP- PROACHING WINTER IN MADEIRA. PREPARES FOR THE VOYAGE. KINDNESS OF DR LUND. LETTER OF ADVICE TO A FORMER PA- TIENT AND FRIEND, WRITTEN ON THE EVE OF HIS DEPARTURE. EMBARKS AT GREENOCK FOB MADEIRA. VOYAGE, AND SAFE ARRI- VAL. HIS MODE OF LIFE IN MADEIRA. REMARKS ON WILBER- FORCE, HOWARD, AND MRS FRY. MR WILLIAM DUNVILLE, AND HIS SISTER MISS DUNVILLE, OF BELFAST, AND MR JOHN CLARK, ADD GREATLY TO HIS SOCIAL ENJOYMENT. KINDNESS OF DR RENTON. LETTERS TO MR CHABLES MACLAREN DESCRIPTIVE OF MADEIRA, &C. DR COMBE RETURNS TO ENGLAND. AFTER the death of Mrs Cox, her second daughter Rohina, and third son Robert, joined Dr Combe and Miss Cox, and formed a family circle. They purchased the house Xo. 25 Rutland Street, lying near the west end of the New Town, and fitted it up with a view to Dr Combe's health and comfort. Double sashes were given to the windows of the rooms occupied by him, and a glazed frame was placed under the cupola of the staircase ; by which means, and by the aid of moderate fires, the temperature was kept high and steady, with- out drying the air too much by over-heating it. The house was sheltered from every wind, and presented 424 DK COMBE'S RESIDENCE, STATE OF HEALTH, almost all the advantages which an invalid in town could expect to command. The society of his nieces and nephew was of great advantage to Dr Combe, as they were thoroughly acquainted with his habits and principles of action, and saved him from every care con- nected with household affairs. In regard to his habits during the winter, it may be mentioned that, unless absolute quietness was prescribed for him, he joined the family in the drawing-room in the evenings ; and made a point, at all events, of spend- ing some time there every day, in order that his own apartments might be thoroughly aired. He used the warm bath once a week, and every day sponged his skin and subjected it to friction. He generally dined in the middle of the day, and went early to bed. He had many little illnesses during the winter, and suf- fered pain and other inconveniences ; but he made light of these, not to annoy those interested in his welfare. He encouraged visits from his intimate friends to the full extent of his ability to profit by them, and was deeply sensible of, and grateful for, their affectionate interest and sympathy. It need scarcely be added, that he did not fail, in his turn, to sympathise with them in their afflictions ; and in every emergency he was ready to give them the best advice and assistance which his reduced strength allowed him to furnish. In January 1842, Dr Scott and Dr Farquharson ex- amined the state of Dr Combe's lungs. They found a cavity in the left lobe of the lungs, and that the middle of the second rib had sunk inward and become exter- nally concave ; that the cavity was advancing towards being closed up ; that this was, to a great extent, pro- moted by a pleuritic effusion of lymph over the situation of the cavity, which effusion had pressed its sides to- gether, or nearly so ; and that a portion of the lung AND HABITS, IN THE WINTER 1841-42. 425 lying above the third rib was still dull, and with little or no respiration. " This," writes Dr Combe to his brother, " may be from a false membrane and effusion over it ; but Dr Scott cannot tell positively. The posterior portion has improved. If this closing be real, it is not less a rare than lucky accident ; for where a cavity of any magnitude is once formed in an infirm constitution, real recovery is so very rare as to be positively denied by most men. If, by such a fortunate acci- dent, the breach in the upper part be soldered up, there will remain only the lower inflamed lobe. If this inflamed portion were all, I should still hope, remembering, as I do, how very slowly my right lung recovered from a state of inflammation ten years ago." This favourable condition did not continue, and on the 23d of March he wrote to Sir James Clark : " Dr Scott made a careful examination of me in bed, and reported enlargement of the cavity, two communications instead of one with the bronchise, increase of dulness and disease in the middle lobe, with improved respiration at the very top, and a retrogression in the lower part, which he considers also tubercular. He thinks a diarrhrea which I have just had, chiefly, not altogether, accidental. Over the whole of the right lobe of the lungs, however, the respiration is puerile, with the exception of a small space between the second and third ribs." By puerile respiration is meant strong and full breath- ing, as in healthy growing boys. His moral condition at this time is shewn in the fol- lowing letter, dated 2d April 1842, addressed to his brother George : " The course of phthisis," says he, " is sometimes so slow, that it is quite possible I may go on even for eighteen months more ; but as I said before, the end may come in autumn, or at any time within a year afterwards, if not sooner, from accidental causes. I shall use all rea- sonable means to prolong life, because it is right to do so ; but there would be no great evil to myself or others in any shortening of the decay. To my friends it is a source of painful anxiety which neces- sarily interferes with their happiness in many ways ; and, for myself, when I think of the fate of other younger and stronger men who have gone before me, I am more disposed to be thankful for the past, than to repine at being summoned now." 426 DR COMBE'S STATE OF HEALTH IN 1842. His physical state is strikingly described in the fol- lowing letter, dated 5th April, to Sir James Clark, which will be interesting to medical readers : " There must be something unusual in my case, which it will be advisable to examine after I am gone. The singular sensation on percussion, the unusual pulsation along a parallel line with the ster- num, which was once so marked, the irregularity in the heart, and the marvellously quiet state of the system at large, all indicate some- thing out of the usual course. Even at this present time, when I am obviously going a step down hill every day, I continue with almost all the sensations of health, and none of illness, so long as I keep within my ' tether.' On exertion, my breathing is hurried ; but, when quiet, it is easy and regular, about sixteen a minute. My pulse, even now, two hours after a dinner of roast mutton and rice, is pacing quietly along at sixty. My hands and feet are neither warm nor cold. I have a good appetite, no thirst, a clean tongue, regular bowels, a mind neither elevated nor depressed, nor yet anxious. My feelings and in- terests remain warm and active as before, and my nights are as good as can be expected with confinement to the house. On the other hand, I have few of the sensations peculiar to illness. Even the cough has returned to its original limit of half an hour on rising, and between twelve and two in the day. All this is, and yet I discern intel- lectually that I am marching at a steady pace towards the grave, and am wearing down in substance and losing in colour with every passing week. Since I must go, it is a privilege to be allowed to go so quietly ; but it is so unusual, that it must be worth some trouble to my survivors to discover how such a conjunction of apparent incom- patibilities has taken place. " I told you that I had a vague notion of taking a voyage from the Clyde. This, however, is a mere figure of speech ; for it would be very unfair towards my most devoted niece to risk placing her in difficulties away from home unnecessarily, and with no prospect of ad- vantage to compensate the probability of her suffering from my more rapid decay. I have no serious intention of moving beyond the neigh- bourhood, and there only when mild weather shall come. I have written to my brother, to beg of him not to come home, as he had en- gaged to lecture in the Heidelberg University in May, before he knew of my late diarrhoea ; and I should be very sorry to hurry him away needlessly from a good work on which his heart is intent, and that, too, when everything concurs to favour his project." On the 2d of May 1842, Dr Combe went to Gorg-ie AUXIETY ABOUT HIS BROTHER GEORGE'S HEALTH. 427 Mill, and passed the greater part of the summer there. His health began gradually to improve, but he was still unable for any serious exertion. He had a subject of painful anxiety in the illness of his brother George, who was attacked with dyspeptic and other maladies in consequence of the cold and damp situation of Mann- heim, where he and his wife had passed the winter, and of his own too ardent exertions to learn the German language. Dr Combe reproved, counselled, and admo- nished him with a brother's affection and a physician's skill, and induced him, after completing the course of lectures alluded to in the immediately preceding letter, to abandon, as beyond his strength, his purpose of at- tempting to diffuse a knowledge of Phrenology in Ger- many, where it had never been taught since Dr Gall delivered a few cursory lectures on the subject at the commencement of his career, and when his own views were still imperfectly developed. Dr Combe was incapable of undertaking any medical practice ; yet, when special cases of suffering were pre- sented to him, he could not resist giving the best advice in his power. Mr William Tait, long an eminent publisher in Edinburgh, now retired from business, has requested his biographer to mention, that at this time Dr Combe and his nephew, Dr James Cox, shewed great kindness to Mr Robert Nicoll, the author of a volume of highly esteemed Poems,* who had contracted a fatal illness in the discharge of his duties as editor of the Leeds Times. Mr Tait presented a copy of the volume to Dr Combe, con- taining a Memoir of NicolTs Life, in which the following information is given : " His office duties were of them- selves incessant and harassing. The Leeds Times is a paper of large size ; and in reporting, condensing news, * Second edition. William Tait, Edinburgh. 1842. 428 ON THE DEATH OF MR ROBERT NICOLL. writiug a great deal for every number of the print, and maintaining a wide correspondence with the working- men reformers in different parts of the country, he had no assistant." ..." He had long carried in his breast the seeds of disease, which, under other circumstances, might have been overcome, or have been kept dormant, but which many causes now contributed to develop. The finishing blow to his health was given by the gene- ral election in the summer of the same year, when the town of Leeds was contested by Sir William Moles- worth, in opposition to Sir John Beckett. Into this contest Nicoll naturally threw himself with his whole heart and soul." The consequence was, his speedy de- cline and death by consumption in December 1837, in his twenty-fourth year. On 10th May 1842, Dr Combe wrote a note to Mr Tait, acknowledging receipt of the volume, in which he says : " Had I not been laid up by illness I would have thanked you sooner for your kind present of poor Nicoll's volume. I feel much obliged for both it and the friendly notice of my own and Dr Cox's small services in his behalf. I have read the Life with deep interest, and cannot but feel increased regret from the conviction, that Nicoll fell a sacrifice to external circumstances, and might have lived to labour efficiently for many years had his constitution been less taxed. The remark, that the proprietors of the Times seemed to know less of him than any other body, expresses what often passed through my mind when I saw him. Even to allow him to labour as he did in their service (supposing it had been a matter of choice with him) was so manifestly a killing of the goose that laid the golden eggs, that I could not help regretting that they had seen him ' done to death,' when they might so easily have relieved him of much of the drudgery. But it is all past now, and I trust that the present publication may be use- ful in saving some future Nicoll, as well as in delighting the admirers of his high-toned effusions." On 3d June 1842, he wrote from Gorgie Mill to Miss Stirling Graham as follows : " The longer I remain in this world, and the nearer the probable LETTER TO MISS STIRLING GRAHAM. 429 time of my leaving it, it seems only the more beautiful, and my affec- tion for those I love becomes only the stronger. At least, I value solid and lasting friends still more than I did in early youth, when the novelty of the world and of mankind divided one's attention with them. I sometimes think it strange, and, at the same time, a most kind provision of nature, that even with the prospect of a removal at no great distance, everything retains its interest just as much as if I were to live for fifty years. So true is it, that it is the pursuit even more than attainment of the end, which confers happiness. I read about everything, and in my mind plan all sorts of improvements, with as much zest as ever. Even the lively gossip of ' little Fanny Burney," which I am now reading, amuses me as much as if I had made one of Fanny's circle, although there is somewhat too much flummery and ado about nothing to be quite suitable to my taste. Do not think, however, that I am becoming sentimental or lachrymose ; so much the reverse, that my niece declares that since I came out here, I have been liker ' a big boy,' just escaped from school, than anything else. It is quite true. Who could look upon the rich and lovely face of creation, brightened by sunshine and shaded by a passing cloud, and not rejoice in an emancipation from eight months' confinement within stone walls, with only an occasional peep at dark clouds and a smoky atmosphere ?" In the month of August Dr Combe went to London by sea, and took np his residence with his nephew Dr Abram Cox at Kingston-on-Thames, where Sir James Clark visited and examined him. In a letter dated Kingston, 6th August, addressed to Miss Cox, he de- scribes his condition, which is pretty similar to that last stated, and adds : " Sir James considers my case an uncommon one. and attaches more importance than ever to my going regularly out (as I have always done), and is most averse to caging me up again, especially for such a great length of time. He suggests my going to Madeira. He thinks no other place sufficiently promising of beneficial results to compen- sate me for the sacrifice of home comforts. He will consider the point, however, more fully. I go to Windsor on Tuesday to see the Royal children, and on Wednesday shall return by the steamship to Leith." In September the Queen came to Scotland, attended 430 DR COMBE ADVISED TO GO TO MADEIRA. by Sir James Clark, who kindly availed himself of the occasion to meet Dr Combe's other medical friends in consultation ; and the result was a unanimous recom- mendation by them that he should forthwith proceed to Madeira. He and Miss Cox accordingly made all neces- sary preparations for the voyage. In a letter dated 17th September 1842, addressed to his brother George, he communicates this recommendation and his intention to comply with it, and says : - " I am already receiving numerous proofs of human benevolence in all sorts of efforts made to smooth the way for me. Dr Lund, a very amiable and talented person, who went to Madeira last winter for his own health, and who is married and has a house there, has been home, and, through Dr Scott, sent to me a most kind invitation to come and live with him as his guest. He is to me an entire stranger. I have written to thank him, and accept of his hospitality on arriving, until we shall have had time to obtain a suitable lodging for ourselves." When Dr Combe was on the eve of sailing for Ma- deira, he accidentally met a friend whom he had for- merly attended as a patient, and a few days afterwards wrote to him the following letter, which is published at the request of the gentleman to whom it was addressed. In a note to Dr Combe's biographer, the gentleman says : " You may wonder that it is so blackened. I felt the kindness so deeply, that I laid it open in the right-hand drawer of my writing-table, to be often under my eye." " Gorgie Mill, 29th October 1842. As our postponed departure gives me a little time after our packing, I cannot employ it better than by telling you (what has been on my conscience ever since), that it gave me real pain and concern to see you the day we met. You were so worn, bent, and aged-looking, as to prove not only how terribly you must have been over-working, but also the real danger of your posi- tion, if you do not draw in in time, and effectually. " It is quite clear to me, that under your present system of over- exertion, you stand almost at the mercy of any accidental attack of illness. Wei'e you to take fever, for example, its danger would be LETTER OF AD1TICE TO A FORMER PATTEST. 431 threefold greater than if TOUT system was in a less exhausted state. The same with every other form of disease ; and your present state cannot go on lony without inducing some serious disease. And, after all, where is your gain when your toil is at an end ? You seek. I presume, a provision for your wife and family a most laudable pur- pose, and worth every safe exertion. But under your present mode of life, you risk leaving your children fatherless within a very small number of years ; and where then will be the gain to them when their guide and protector is removed ? and where even the pecuniary gain which longer life would have ensured ? " Take it at the best, and suppose yon reach a good old age and accumulate wealth, what then ? You live for years a sickly and decrepid man, unfit to enjoy the society of your children and the wealth you have gathered, and disappointment is your surest reward. And why should it be incumbent on you to make an adequate life pro- vision for your children ? Have not you relieved your father of that burden ; and is it not the law of God and nature, that each generation, when grown np, should provide for itself ? Why then distrust Pro- vidence, and destroy yourself for an object in itself erroneous ? I do not wish to frighten you. It is not yet too late to avert the evil ; but I cannot see yon walking straight towards a precipice without trying to pull you back ; and I repeat* truly and candidly, that your appearance gave me much pain. 7 cannot tell yon for to retrieve yourself, but ' where there is a will there is a way,' and you have no time to lose in needless delay. Think seriously of this ; and not only think but aft, and one day yon will be thankful for it." The usual mode of proceeding to Madeira is by packets which sail from Southampton. They are com- fortably fitted up for passengers, and are a great ac- commodation to invalids ; but at that time the owners of them did not provide bedding, and, in the state of Dr Combe's health, he feared to encounter the fa- tigue and risk of travelling from Edinburgh to South- ampton encumbered by heavy baggage in the begin- ning of winter. On the 1st of November 1842, there- fore, he and Miss Cox sailed from Greenock on board of the barque Hesperia, a first-class vessel of 269 tons, but clipper-built. They had the society of other two passengers during the royage. The ship sailed admi- 432 VOYAGE TO MADEIRA. rably, and soon cleared the land ; but in latitude 47, a gale came on which lasted for a fortnight (being con- trary the first week), and then the build of the vessel began to tell against the comfort of the passengers. She rolled terribly ; for twelve days there was no rest by day or night. Dr Combe suffered severely from sea- sickness, aggravated by smoke and dust driven through the cabin by the inexorable wind. Prom the sharp- ness of the build of the ship, she did not rise to the waves, but ran through their tops ; and hence not only was it impossible to sit on deck during this stormy weather, but there was not always security against the invasion of the sea into the cabin, even when the hatches were closed. About the 15th November, however, the wind be- came more favourable, and the influence of a warmer climate was perceptible. The passengers were thence- forth enabled to spend the day on deck, and Dr Combe quickly recovered the ground he had lost during the gale. From this time the weather continued fine, and on the 24th of November, the thermometer stood at 68 in the shade, and scarcely fell even after sunset. The air was clear and mild, and the evening delight- ful, the stars shining forth with all the brilliancy of a frosty night in Scotland. Next day the ship reached Funchal, and Dr Lund kindly sent off a boat for Dr Combe, and had a palanquin in waiting on shore to con- vey him to his house. He was welcomed on the beach by Mr John Clark (the son of his friend Sir James), who was spending some time in Madeira, and whose friendly visits were most agreeable to him during his own stay in the island. Dr Combe and Miss Cox were hospitably entertained by Dr Lund and his wife, until they found comfortable apartments for themselves in the house of Mr David- DR COMBE'S MODE OF LIFE IN MADEIRA. 433 son, a native of Scotland, settled in Funchal as a teacher. The house, like most others in Funchal, had a square turret with glazed windows rising above the roof, from which an extensive view of the sea, the town, and the slope of the mountain above it, could be commanded. Dr Combe rose at half-past six, and wrote or read till eight, when breakfast was served. When he was able, and the weather was fine, he ac- cepted invitations to breakfast with his friends ; and he always retained a vivid recollection of the pleasures of these simple social meals. He rode on horseback from an hour and a half to two hours every day when the weather permitted. Horses accustomed to the roads, with attendants, could be obtained on hire at a trifling sum per hour. He started between nine and ten o'clock, so as to avoid the heat of the day and to be home in time sufficient to allow of an hour's rest between the end of his excursion and his dinner, which was served at one o'clock. He remained quietly in the house till three or four o'clock P.M., by which time the air was cool ; and he spent an hour or more in saunter- ing and resting in the open air, or in paying a visit, but always taking care to be at home before sunset. He considered the time immediately before sunset as more prejudicial to invalids than even the night air, after the moisture had been fairly deposited. He never went out at night on any account whatever. On a fine evening he ascended the turret, and from it enjoyed the sunset and view, which he thus describes in a let- ter to Mrs H Gl . " As I sit writing in my turret, I can cast my eyes about, and have a different view from each of the four pairs of windows, every one possessing attractions of its own. To the west, the sun is now setting behind a ridge of hills, with a dark screen of dense and stormy-look- ing clouds fringing its broken outline. To the east, the bold pro- 2 E 434 MODE OP LIFE IN MADEIRA. montory of the Brazen-head is half obscured by a sweeping blast, which has just put a rainbow to flight. In front, stretches out before me the pathless and now troubled sea, with its dozen vessels lying at anchor (for there is no harbour), dimly seen for a moment, and then again appearing all in brightness, and the little specks of boats has- tening to the shore. To the north, the steep ascent to the mountain tops presents itself, covered with neat white quintas or country-houses, rising in successive terraces, amidst their vineyards, and the upper regions enveloped in clouds and drenching rains. Near the top of the nearest mountain, the Mount Church shines forth conspicuously from among the trees at the height of nineteen hundred feet. Such are the scenes amidst which I write, at nearly half-past 5 P.M., on the 5th of January (1843), while you are sitting at your snug fireside, with your brilliant gas to illumine your darkness." Occasionally he received visits from friends before dinner, but the chief time for visiting was in the after- noon. In seeking social enjoyment, however, for which he had a great relish, he never allowed any temptation to lead him away from the great object for which he had gone to Madeira, namely, the improvement of his health. He often regretted appearing ungracious in declining proffered hospitalities ; but he did generally decline them as forbidden pleasures, and explained his motives for doing so : when these were understood, he was not condemned. At home he had the benefit of the society of Mr and Mrs Davidson, in whose house he lodged, and also that of his two countrymen who had come with him in the Hesperia, and who found accom- modation in the same house. One of these accompanied him pretty regularly in his rides, and Miss Cox occa- sionally joined them. Although Dr Combe was particularly fond of fine natural scenery, and Madeira abounds in it, he never once ventured to visit any spot, however enchanting and celebrated, which he could not reach in a ride of an hour and a half in going, and as much in return- ing. Many pic-nic parties for excursions, generally MODE OF LIFE IX MADEIRA. 435 occupying the whole day, were formed by his acquaint- ances ; bnt he resisted every solicitation to accompany them, considering them beyond his strength. Within his limits he tried, however, to vary the scenery of his rides as much as possible, by exploring every path. Oc- casionally he had a short sail in a boat ; but generally the sea was too rough for pleasure. At six o'clock all the inmates of the house assembled at the tea-table, and talked over the incidents of the day, till seven, when they retired to their private apartments. The interval till ten o'clock was spent by Dr Combe in reading, in a game at backgammon with his niece, or in listening to her playing on the pianoforte; after which he retired to rest. Although, from this description, attention to his health may be supposed to have constituted the busi- ness of his life in Madeira, he read a good deal, and wrote many letters. The following letter, dated 18th January 1843, ad- dressed to George Combe, contains some remarks on the books which he had then been reading : " Our friend was invited to a two o'clock dinner lately, and he told me that the party ' Wilberforced it' the whole afternoon. If you have read Wilberforce's Life by his sons, you will require no elucidation of the phrase. If you hare not, get it, and read the first thirty pages that turn up, and ex triyinta disce omnts. I never read a hook so carelessly composed by men assuming the title of editors. Erery accessible letter seems to have been printed, no matter how manifold its repetitions, how obscure its hints, or how abrupt its ter- mination. Nothing is retrenched, nothing explained, and nothing completed. With some exercise of judgment, and a good deal of trouble, one rery interesting volume might have been made out of the FIVB. Cowper's letters are jewels compared to Wilberforce's, and, to my mind, do far more to excite a deep sense of religion than all the laboured efforts of Wilberforce. The one gives expression simply and naturally to the thoughts and feelings which spring up spontaneously as he writes. The other forces in tke IX FEBRUARY 1S45. IX SPRIXG GOES TO HELEXSEFEGH. INTERVIEW WITH THE RET. DR DAVID WELSH. LETTER TO A FEIEXD OX THE PROFESSION OF A DIPLOMATIST. MAKES AX Ei- CCRSIOX TO THE RHIXE, EXCOUXTERS BAD WEATHER, AXD IS FORCED TO RETTRX. REMARKS OX " TESTIGES OF THE XATCRAL HISTORY OF CREATIOX." HIS COXDITIOX IX SEPTEMBER 1S45. TRAIT OF CHARACTER IX AX EVAXGELICAL LADY IX RELATIOX TO THE THEATRE. DR COMBE PREPARES AX "ADDRESS" FOE THE OPEXIXG OF DR WEIR T S LECTURES OX PHREXOLOGT TO THE STU- DEXTS OF AXDERSOy S UXITERSITY, GLASGOW. LETTER TO DR FORBES OX HOMtEOPATHT. ARTICLES BY DR COMBE " OX THE OB- SERTATIOX OF XATTRE IX THE STO>Y AXD TREATMEXT OF DISEASE." IX THE BRITISH AXD FOREIGX MEDICAL REVIEW. REMARK AS TO GITIXG ADVICE EX REGARD TO THE PLAX OF A WORK. LETTER TO RICHARD COBDEX, ESQ., M .P., OX THE IXJCRIOUS EFFECTS OF EX- CESSIVE MEXTAL EXERTIOX OX HEALTH. LETTER TO HORACE MAXX OX EDtTCATIOX. LETTER TO LORD DrXTERMLTXE OX MR MAXX's REPORT. DR COMBE GOES TO KIXGSTOX-OX-THAMES. IXTEEVIEW WITH MR COBDEX. REMARKS OX FREE TRADE AXD THE XATURAL LAWS OF MAX. RETCRXS TO EDIXBURGH BY CORK. DUBLIX. LIVER- POOL, AXD GLASGOW. ttF.VARKS OX THE COVE OF CORK AS A LOCA- LITY FOR IXVALIDS ; OX THE PEOPLE ; AXD OX THE FLEET. ON the 7th of June 1844, they proceeded to Scotland by sea, and a few days after their arrival Mr and Mrs George Combe returned from Italy restored in health. The two brothers and their relatives, after an anxious period of separation, enjoyed a happy meeting. Sub- sequently Dr Combe visited his friends in Belfast, and later in the season he hired the villa of Hollycot, 474 ILLNESS IN SPRING 1845. at Lasswade, in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh, where he remained till the 30th of November remark- ably well, although, from the severe illness of several of his former patients and friends, he was exposed to considerable anxiety and labour in giving advice by letters. After his return to Edinburgh he tried exercise on horseback, which he continued for some time ; but it proved too fatiguing, and subsequently he drove out in an open carriage for two hours every day ; closing it, however, when the weather was severely cold. Sir James Clark had written to Dr Scott, recommending that he should confine himself to the house during the winter months ; but as he had gone out every day be- fore this advice arrived without suffering from the ex- posure, he, with Dr Scott's sanction, continued his drives. It may be doubted whether he acted prudently in doing so ; for a good deal of severe weather ensued, he caught cold and was greatly troubled with deaf- ness, and, on examination, the obstruction in his left lung was found to be increased, although the right was still sound. During the early part of January 1845, his pulse became slower and feebler, and his deafness increased, accompanied by uneasy sensations in the head (the conse- quence of languid circulation). An increase of nourish- ing diet was tried, but it did not raise the pulse. On 25th January, however, he again rallied, and continued tolerably well for some days ; but he was afterwards seized with a severe cold, which, on 14th February, re- duced him to such a state of weakness that he consider- ed himself to be dying. He was supported for several hours on the morning of that day by brandy and wine, freely administered by his kind advisers, Dr Scott and Dr Farquharson. His nephew, Dr James Cox, also ILLNESS IN SPRING 1845. 475 bestowed on him the most assiduous and valuable atten- tions. He slowly recovered, and when able to write described his condition in a letter to Dr John Bell of Philadelphia, in the following terms : " My health, ahout which you kindly interest yourself, is wonder- fully good, considering that early in the spring I was kept alive for several weeks only by the very free use of brandy, wine, and beef- steaks, by night as well as by day ! Within twenty-four hours at the worst period, I consumed more wine and brandy than in the five preceding years put together ; for in general I could bear neither with- out febrile excitement and cough ensuing. On this occasion it seemed only to keep my heart going, and my head from becoming confused. I had lost all distinct consciousness of my bodily form ; hearing, sight, taste, and touch, and indeed all the nervous functions, were at a low ebb, but not deranged in quality. For ten days I felt strong brandy or peppermint exactly like tepid milk in my mouth. In my usual state, its mere contact instantly excites cough. I heard and distinguished the meaning of a sentence or two, and then it became an undis- tinguishable sound. In like manner I saw objects distinctly for a minute or so on opening my eyes, and then all outlines became con- fused, till I could distinguish nothing. It was the same with touch. The feeling of sinking was at times irftense, and for some weeks always bad from one to three o'clock A.M., and then stimulus just kept me up. The first night it attacked me in a decided form, I took three- quarters of a pint of strong brandy, and a pint of strong sherry, in about three hours, a quantity which would have killed me outright any time within the last fifteen years. I mention all these details as of physiological interest to you. I never saw any one in a similar state, nor did my medical friends ; and they were at first alarmed at the quantity of stimulus required, and would have shrunk from it, had I not begun its use from a feeling of immediate sinking before they could be sent for. They were encouraged only by observing the good eifects of what I had previously taken. During this attack I could not for six weeks raise my head from the pillow without be- ginning to lose consciousness." As soon as it was considered safe, he was carried to Gorgie Mill, where he gradually regained strength ; an effect which he ascribed to the mere change of locality. Writing thence, on llth April, to another friend, in reference to this attack, he says : 476 MEETING WITH DR WELSH. " My heart would be indeed of stone, were it not moved when I think of the devoted kindness and affection showered on me by all connected with me during my illness. My obligations to my sisters and nieces are beyond expression. I have many comforts and sources of happiness, and my eyes were moist at times with tears of gratitude, never of pain." To avoid the cold east winds which prevail in Edin- burgh during the spring, Dr Combe, in April, accom- panied his brother and his wife to Helensburgh, in Dumbartonshire, where his health continued to improve. Here an affecting interview took place between him and the Rev. Dr David Welsh, who had at one time been an intimate friend of him and his brother. Dr Welsh was residing in the neighbourhood of Helensburgh, in the last stage of decline from disease of the heart. Having accidentally heard of Dr Combe's arrival, he solicited an interview with him, and the benefit of his advice. They met, and each was deeply moved by the appearance of the other. Dr Welsh offered many apologies to Dr Combe for having, in ignorance of his frail condition, made such a call upon him -, and the latter, forgetting his own weakness, only regretted that Dr Welsh was beyond the reach of human aid. He died a very few days after their first meeting. From Helensburgh Dr Combe proceeded two miles higher up the Gare Loch to Row, where he and his re- latives remained for several weeks. He drove out every good day in an open carriage, enjoyed the beautiful scenery of the lake and surrounding country, and per- ceptibly acquired strength. His first mental effort was to write the following letter, dated " Row, 16th May 1846," to L M , Esq. : " Your father will have told you how very much your affectionate and very interesting letter gratified me when I received it about six weeks ago. It so happened, that as I lay in bed on the morning of its arrival, I was employed, in my own imagination, in writing you a OLD AND NEW DIPLOMACY. 477 long screed. From some cause or other, perhaps a lurking affection for you, you had been often in my thoughts during my illness, and I could not but rejoice that I saw you fairly launched in an honourable and useful career, before I was myself removed, as at that time I ex- pected soon to be. I always had the conviction that your powers and higher nature would come out more and more in proportion to the demands made on them, and that your health and happiness required a field of useful exertion to be provided for you as a sine qua won. You were never made to be a mere cumberer of the ground, orfrvges turn- svmere natus ; but give you a definite position and an honourable aim, and you will mount upwards higher and faster than those who know you little could well imagine. I rejoice to learn, accordingly, that your health has been good during the winter, and that you like your employment. I rejoice farther to learn from your father that you have decided to sick to diplomacy, where you have a fine field before you both of usefulness and distinction. The old diplomacy of intrigue must ere long die a natural death in all civilized countries, and an appeal be made to higher and more permanent principles of action in international intercourse. Intelligence, morality, and knowledge, will consequently rise more and more to a premium, and even in meeting and defeating intrigue, will be found of more potent avail than mere savoirfaire. Your mind is obviously open to this altered and altering state of things, and by thoroughly qualifying yourself, while your more dreamy colleagues are rubbing their eyes and wiping their spec- tacles, you may succeed in one day making yourself a very necessary man, and in conferring most important benefits on your country and kind. Do not shrink back, under the notion that you are nobody, and are not likely ever to become a prominent man. Qualify yourself, and no man can tell when the emergency may come. There is one thing of which you will become more and more convinced the longer you live, namely, that in the business of life the occasion is often present when the man cannot be found. Your father will bear me out in this to the fullest extent. How often do we look around us in vain for a trustworthy upright man, combining adequate common sense, energy, tact, discretion, and even moderate knowledge of principles of action ! Be assured that the very same want is felt in diplomatic affairs, and that the men in power, when it comes to the push, are thankful to get a person they can trust without the enervating restraint of lead- ing-strings to direct his every movement. " My hope for and confidence in you is founded on my experience of you and of mankind. Your aspirations are high, and they ought to be so. Your intellect is active, and you like to go to fixed prin- 478 VALUE OF PHRENOLOGY. ciples rather than flounder about on the inviting banks of routine. Your appreciation of the writings of such men as Gluizot, Arnold, and Thiers, shews that your mind is fitted to embrace large and sound views of public questions ; and your moral sense is strong enough to give you a deep interest in eternal justice as the safest groundwork you can have. Believing all this, I cannot but feel great and earnest anxiety that you should go a step farther in your studies, and make yourself thoroughly acquainted with Phrenology, and its relations to everything in which man is concerned as a moral and intellectual agent. I do not mean so much the physiological part of Phrenology, although that would be very useful in many ways. I allude to Phre- nology as the nearest approach we have to a system of the philosophy of mind, or the philosophy of human nature. To you, more than to many men, it would be valuable, by inspiring legitimate confidence and diminishing anxiety. From experience, as well as from wide observa- tion, I can speak strongly on this point. It gives an interest, too, in reading and in conversation, from affording correct principles, and, as it were, a correct standard of judgment. With its aid, such books as Guizot's become doubly valuable, and their contents doubly appli- cable, from the increased facility of adapting them to new cases. But I feel that I am in danger of going beyond the point where you can follow me. I see the data which warrant my opinion. To you they are still unknown, and it would be unreasonable, therefore, to ask you to agree with me farther. I shall, therefore, stop short with my general opinions, and only ask of you to have so far confidence in my judgment and knowledge (for I know you have in my friendship) as to read attentively, and with a willing mind, 1st, My brother's Constitution of Man ; 2d, His Moral Philosophy ; and, lastly, his Notes on America. If the applications of the phrenological principles to human affairs in these volumes should inspire you with an interest in the subject, you will then be led to read his System of your own accord. Whatever the result may be in this respect, you will not regret having read the works alluded to, as they contain many thoughts, and suggest many more, which can scarcely fail to be useful to you. " In one sense, I am advising you to put the cart before the horse, by taking the System last. But to read it with profit, you must feel a previous interest in the subject ; and with a thinking man, that in- terest is most easily excited by perceptions of utility. I need hardly say, that in all his speculations I do not concur, nor will you ; but I am mistaken if you do not go along with many applications of sound principle made by him to the most important subjects that can occupy human attention." " VESTIGES OP CREATION." 479 During the month of June Dr Combe was so much benefited by the further change of locality in visiting his friends near Belfast^ and accompanying Mr William Dunville and his sister in an excursion to the county of Wicklow, that he was induced to try a more ex- tended tour through Belgium to the Rhine, with seve- ral of his relations, in July. But the weather, which had previously been fine, then became so very unfavour- able, that after remaining for a week at Hombourg, he and Miss Cox were forced to leave the rest of the party and return home. He spent the autumn in Edinburgh, driving to the country every day, and enjoying in a quiet manner the society of friends, many of whom, at this season, were passing through the city on their way to the Highlands. It is hardly necessary to mention that he was always desirous that strangers should see what was most worthy of notice in his native city. When able for conversation, he invited them to share in his drives, and took great delight in pointing out to them the many beautiful views in the neighbourhood. Among the traces of his mental activity during this summer is the following short criticism of " Ves- tiges of the Natural History of Creation," contained in a letter dated 29th August 1845, addressed to George Combe : " I have read the critique on the ' Vestiges of Creation ' in the Edin- burgh Review, and think that it demolishes the theory of transition de- velopment, which is that of the author. Many men, long before he was horn, advocated the principle of the Creator acting in all his doings on general and unvarying laws, which is quite a different ques- tion from the other, and one on which my mind has long been made up ; while the transition theory seemed to me to be attended with greater difficulties than that of successive creations of new species of animals. How creation was effected, or according to what laws, is perhaps a question impenetrable by a created being, and I feel but little interest in discussing it, because it is at present entirely con- 480 DR COMBE'S MENTAL STATE. jectural. To speculate on what you justly call a ' profound mystery,' viz., ' the beginning of all things,' is an idle employment for beings who have more practical work placed before them than they can ac- complish." His convalescence was extremely slow, and on the 24th September he wrote to Sir James Clark, asking- advice : " The worst of my condition is being unfit for any thing sufficient to keep my interests and feelings alive. If I could even write, I should be thankful. I wish much to clear up the subject of ' Patients and Doctors,' but can do very little. * * * I cannot devise any occupation at once sufficient to interest me, and not too much. I feel, too, that I am a permanent drag upon the intercourse of the other members of my household with society, and isolation is not good for them. In this state of things, although enjoying many mercies, and grateful for them every hour, I shall be less reluctant to quit the field when the call comes, than might otherwise have been the case." It was ultimately decided that he should pass the winter in Edinburgh. That season proved uncommonly mild, and he not only withstood its influence, but con- tinued to gain strength. He was able to resume his correspondence, and among other proofs of his renewed mental vigour is a touching letter, dated 17th Novem- ber 1845, addressed to Miss A B , on the death of a lady who had long been one of his patients and friends. Only one portion of it is suitable for publi- cation ; and to enable the reader to appreciate the trait of character which it records of his lamented friend, it is proper to mention that she entertained highly evangelical religious opinions : " There was," says he, " a warmth, generosity, and purity of na- ture about her, a rectitude of judgment and consistency of purpose, which strongly attracted me, and excited my admiration. One little trait which occurred during her severe illness at , when she wished me not to come to visit her in the evening, as she knew I had some reason for wishing to go to the theatre, lives in my memory as freshly as if it had occurred yesterday, and has ever struck me as a ADDRESS TO STUDENTS OF ANDERSON'S UNIVERSITY. 481 remarkable example of the true Christian spirit. She disapproved of the theatre, but said that she did not, on that account, wish to keep me from going to it, unless I also saw it to be wrong. It would do me no good, she remarked, to prevent me from going, if I saw no harm in doing so ; and while she would rejoice to see me abstain from convic- tion, she would not allow me to be kept away by a mere accident. And she carried her point of setting me free that evening, in a spirit of kindness which I shall never forget." In the year 1845, the managers of Anderson's Uni- versity in Glasgow resolved to establish a lectureship of Phrenology in that Institution, in which " the rela- tions of Phrenology to Physiology, Medicine, and Edu- cation," should be embraced. The importance of this lectureship will be apparent when it is mentioned, that the total number of tickets issued by the medical Pro- fessors attached to it, in the session 1844-5, was 606, and the number of the students of anatomy was 124. In consequence of a memorial from the Glasgow Phre- nological Society, the trustees of the late W. B. Hender- son, Esq., agreed, on certain conditions, to pay the sum of 50 annually to the lecturer; allowing him, besides, to draw moderate fees. Dr William Weir, one of the physicians to the Royal Infirmary of Glasgow, a man of talent, and an able phrenologist, was elected to the chair, and Dr Combe wrote an " Address" to the students, which, as the infirm state of his health pre- vented him from attending, was read by George Combe to a large audience on the opening of the class. It was subsequently published in the Phrenological Journal, vol. xix., p. 97, and also as a pamphlet, under the title of " Phrenology its Nature and Uses : An Address to the Students of Anderson's University, at the opening of Dr Weir" 1 sfirstcourse of Lectures on Phrenology in that In- stitution, January 7, 1846. By ANDREW COMBE, M.D."* * These lectures were delivered during two seasons, but were so little appreciated, that a sufficient number of students did not attend 2 H 482 LETTER TO DR FORBES. The thinking and style of this address (an extract from which has been given on page 124) indicate a great re- vival of Dr Combe's mental energies. On the 4th January 1846, he wrote to Dr Forbes as follows : " I have just finished a rather hasty perusal of your article on Homoeopathy in the recent Number of the British and Foreign Medi- cal Review,* and rejoice that you have spoken out openly and honestly what you believe to be truth regarding both homoeopathy and ' allo- pathy.' In almost all your opinions I heartily concur ; and I consider a full confession of all our faults the first step to future improvement. In all probability you will be attacked for having exaggerated the defects of allopathy, and admitted too much in favour of homoeopathy ; but the result of discussion will be to extend the consciousness of the said defects, and to prompt to their removal. I think that in your estimate of homoaopathy you have stopped short one step too soon. "When you were inclined some years ago to condemn mesmerism on general reasoning, I urged, that as you considered it worthy of serious notice at all, you ought to go a step farther, and test the facts; that if you did so and found them true, you would thereby advance science and save your own reputation ; if false, you would meet mesmerists on their own battle-field, and knock them down with their own weapons, and with an authority which would carry'weight whereas, if you used only general reasoning or ridicule, you would leave them in pos- session of their stronghold, and merely oppose opinion to alleged stub- born fact. You followed this course with clairvoyance, and there stand on sure ground. With homoaopathy, however, you have acted dif- ferently. You admit too much for it to warrant you reposing on your mere opinion against it. You are bound in reason and in logic to make a trial for yourself, and draw such conclusions as your expe- rience shall warrant. The test you propose is excellent, but it is not in your power. The one I propose is not so conclusive, but it is the best you can use, and valeat quantum. Had you shewn that the general results of homoeopathic practice were less favourable, you might have legitimately held them to be a sufficient justification for not testing it ; but that will not avail you as things stand. You have placed your- to render it expedient to continue them. In consequence, the grant of 50 a-year was withdrawn by Mr Henderson's trustees, Dr Weir resigned, and the lectureship was suppressed. * Vol. xxi., p. 225. ON HOM" EDUCATION. 489 the perusal of your Ninth Report to the Board of Education. It arrived here a few days ago, along with your note to my brother, of 13th February, and in his absence I took the opportunity of reading it, I finished it yesterday, and at every successive page I felt my ad- miration of it increase. If you had lived only to write that Report, you would have been by it alone recognised as a benefactor to your race. I can scarcely conceive anything so much calculated to meet the peculiar wants of the day, or to convey and diffuse widely a true sense of the nature and value of a sound education. Your exposition of the errors and omissions in the moral training of our schools, and of the inevitable consequences thence resulting to the character of the future men and women who are to rule over us. and constitute our general and domestic society, is most graphic and convincing. It ad- dresses itself at once to intellect and to feeling, because it is a tran- script of existing and influential realities, and is conveyed with a moral earnestness which it is impossible to resist. " You are right in saying at the end. that such an exposition is new. Many thinking men have touched upon similar topics, but without either grouping them, or following them out systematically to their results. You have been placed in almost the only position for accomplishing the work. The schoolmaster is usually too much occu- pied with the direct calls upon his attention, to admit of his stopping to analyse and reflect upon the operation of the principles by which the moral and intellectual phenomena which distinguish character, are produced or modified even by his own acts. The mere philosophical visitor, on the other hand, although so familiar with principle as to be able to predicate what results are likely to ensue from certain school-practices, has yet no sufficient opportunity of d'Serrhw realitief, to feel sure that the anticipated results actually follow. You com- bine the advantages possessed by both. You are familiar with the principles of human nature, with their mode of action, and proper fields of exercise.* On entering a school, you come furnished with the means of accurate observation, increased by those of extended compa- rison with other schools ; and, like the calm onlooker at a perilous game, you are able thus to detect a deal more of the play, and form a more correct estimate of the chances, than those who are themselves engaged in it. Every word you utter, thus bears the stamp of a truthful reality, and tells upon the intelligent mind with a directness and force, which only the densest prejudices can resist. * Mr Mann is intimately acquainted with Phrenology and its ap- plications ; and its influence in supplying him with guiding principles is conspicuous in every work that proceeds from his pen. O. C. 490 LETTER TO MR HORACE MANN. " Your solemn warning to your countrymen, that the prosperity and happiness of the nation depend on the nature of the education given to the youth of both sexes now at school, is so impressively elo- quent, and, at the same time, so clearly argued, that it can never be forgotten. It will be like the good seed, and will do its own work where there is even a vestige of soil among the stony places. It will sink deeply into the true and earnest minds ; and they, in their turn, will sow abundantly in a soil better prepared to receive the seed. The lesson is greatly needed by the teachers and public of this and all other countries, as well as your own ; for, as yet, education has been more an intention than a reality. A few intellectual faculties have been cultivated, and our moral nature left to be choked by the rank- growing weeds of the propensities. Phrenology has done much, and will yet do much more, to expose this grievous error and its source, and your Report will be a most valuable aid in its correction. Many of your remarks come home to me with peculiar force, as echoes of deep convictions which have often haunted my mind without ever find- ing adequate expression, but the fainter images of which appear in my ' Physiology applied to Education.' At this very time, and for months past, I have been devoting all my spare energies, which, un- fortunately, are very small, to an attempt to do for medicine what you are doing so efficiently for education, to direct men's minds to the realities of Clod's laws, instead of to mere fancies of their own. I seek to elevate the character and increase the dignity of the profession by elevating its aims and improving its practice, just as you are doing with the character and dignity of the schoolmaster. It seems to me that we are at the commencement of a new era in education, profes- sional as well as general, social, and political ; and I envy the power of those who, like you, are able to contribute so energetically to its de- velopment. You are labouring in a cause which will insure for you the gratitude of generations yet unborn ; and I cannot help express- ing my hearty sympathy with all you have done and are doing. May you long be preserved in health and activity, to fulfil your mission and benefit your race ! " At a subsequent date (27th. August), Dr Combe wrote to Lord Dunfermline, in relation to this Report, as fol- lows : MY LORD, I read your warm approval of Mr Mann's Report with great pleasure, and feel much obliged by your remarks. My brother LETTER TO LORD DCJfFERMLIXE. 491 means to recommend Mr Mann to send over a good many copies, and if this cannot be done, we think it onght to be reprinted.* At present it would not sell ; but when the question of National Education comes before the public, it might find a ready welcome, and prove a very useful auxiliary to those engaged in the discussion. Mr Mann's posi- tion was eminently favourable/' [Here Dr Combe introduces some remarks on the Report similar to those contained in his letter to Mr Mann ; after which he proceeds :] " In this respect he somewhat re- sembles Mr Cobden. He is equally at home with the facts and the principles ; and being as thoroughly sincere and in earnest, he requires only a fair hearing to make a deep and general impression ; and I hope that the approaching discussions will call attention to his Report. The extraordinary success of Mr Cobden's labours in educating the middle classes in the principles of free trade affords great encourage- ment for the future, in attempting educational improvement. " It is very gratifying to me to receive the expression of your Lord- ship's conviction, that the cause of secular education is decidedly ad- vancing, and that something will be done commensurate with its im- portance ; and I most heartily agree with you in looking to it as the best security for the property, social order, and happiness of the coun- try. Even Dr Candlish now professes his willingness to receive secu- lar education from the Government without stigmatising it as ' god- less' and * profane !' In so far he is at one with Dr Hook and Mr Milner ; and the fact indicates a considerable change in a large and influential portion of the public. If the Government made the clear distinction, that their scheme of education is intended to fit man for his position and duties in this world only, and that they left it entirely to every man's church to prepare him for the next, it might calm the fears of many. Still, however, bigotry, intolerance, and the love of power, would play their part, although, probably, with less success. But I must not encroach too far on your Lordship's patience with my comments." On the 20th of May he went to Kingston-on-Thames, and remained with Dr Abram Cox till the middle of July. He was remarkably fortunate and happy during this yisit. The weather was fine, and he had regained * Dr Hodgson republished " Report of an Educational Tour in Germany, Ac. By Horace Mann ;" Simpkin. Marshall, and Co., Lon- don, 1846. A notice of Mr Mann's personal history is given in the Phrenological Journal, voL six., p. 348. 492 INTERVIEW WITH MR COBDEN. so much strength that he was able to drive out every day, go to town, see his friends, and occupy himself in several useful employments. He made the personal acquaintance of Mr Cobden ; and in a letter to his bro- ther, dated 20th June, he writes : " I was greatly pleased with Mr Cobden. I know not when I have spent three hours more happily than in an excursion with him to Hampton Court Garden, and sauntering there with him, talking with- out reserve on every topic that occurred. It was pleasing, too, to see the respect with which various parties who recognised him, saluted him. He came three hours more in the evening, when Sir James Clark was with us, and much interesting talk followed. I did not ask the question directly, how far the late movement in favour of free trade was founded on an intelligent perception of the dictates of the natural laws of man, and how far on mere empirical sense ; but the impression left on my mind was, that the public promoters of the agi- tation were acting merely on the dictates of good sense, general infor- mation, and acute intellect, sharpened by interest in the subject, and a belief that good to themselves, as well as to the nation, would en- sue. But I think that few of them had a clear perception that they were advocating the scheme devised by Providence, supported by its power, and sanctioned by its wisdom. They, consequently, were more apt to seize quickly all statements of fact and principle which told in their favour, than to consider any that might militate against them ; and thus, if tested by a call to apply the same principles to some new but less popular public measure, to which their present doctrines were equally applicable, many who are now eloquent in denouncing illi- berality in all its shapes, might, I fear, under the influence of preju- dice and supposed interest, go astray. Still, an important step in public education has been made by the corn-law discussions of fact and principle, and the people are, for the moment, in possession of views which would carry them much farther, if their moral and intel- lectual training could be continued under favourable circumstances. I have no doubt that ' The Constitution of Man' has done something to prepare the manufacturing mind, in particular, for the recent discus- sions, and has indirectly helped many to a clearer perception of truths which they believe themselves to have discovered by their own com- mon sense. But I believe the number of those who consciously found on the natural laws is small. Every truth brought out by a know- ledge of these laws looks so plain and sensible, that many minds take REMAKES ON THE PEOPLE AND CLIMATE OF CORK. 493 it up and adhere to it, without regard to the evidence of its solid foundation afforded by its harmony with a general principle. But then, let higher minds point out that harmony, and drive it into them by ' a damnable iteration' (without which no impression can be made), and they will be ready to open their eyes and follow with alacrity.' Dr Coinbe visited the Royal Family at Buckingham Palace with Sir James Clark, who. on this, as on other occasions, availed himself of his suggestions, founded on his physiological and phrenological knowledge, re- garding the physical and moral education of the Royal children. From London, Dr Combe and Miss Cox went by sea to Cork, Dublin, Liverpool, and Glasgow, for the sake of the voyages. Writing to George Combe from Liver- pool on the 26th July, he says : " The people of Cork seemed to me the most heterogeneous race I ever saw. They are like no other people, and one is not like another. They are not susceptible of classification. There was, however, much less begging, and drunkenness, and rags, than I expected, and no per- tinacity whatever in obtruding offers of service, of cars, or of anything else ; but, on the contrary, much natural civility. We steamed down to Cove and back again on Monday, 20th, to see its beauties and ad- vantages as an invalid resort, and also to get a view of the experi- mental squadron. The country and houses offer many indications of a rainy climate. The vegetation was as green and humid as in May, and the outside walls are generally slated down to the ground on the exposed sides of the houses. The number of handsome villas along the shores is very large ; but there is obviously nothing in the situa- tion to make it worth an invalid's while to give up home for its bene- fits, but very much the contrary. " The fleet of eight large men-of-war, and nine war-steamers, was a noble sight. Why I can scarcely tell ; but these majestic masses of human construction, floating as if in all the calm consciousness of enor- mous power, have always had a deep interest for me. But the same is the case with even the elegant little cutter, skimming like a thing of life over a summer's sea. In crossing from Dublin to I/fverpool on Thurs- day in a strong southern gale, with driving clouds, slanting showers, and broken and foaming sea boiling up with fierce energy on every side, a large ship became visible, enveloped in a thick dark squall, about 494 REMARKS ON THE FLEET. half a mile off, and offered a perfect picture for the eye of an artist. She was under close-reefed topsails three shreds of canvas as they seemed, as hig as three handkerchiefs and there she lay, almost on her broadside, part of the deck constantly under water, and yet going so steadily, that for a time I fancied she was on her broadside on a sand- bank, and we not passing her. We were going eleven knots, so that she must have been going at least ten to keep up with us." EVILS OF ISOLATING CHILDREN. 495 CHAPTER LETTER FROM DR COMBE TO JOSS DUXVUJLE, OX THE ETTLS OP ISO- LATING CHILDREN IX THEIR EDUCATIOX. LETTER TO MR JOHX SCOTT, OX THE QUALIFICATIOXS XECESSART FOR A SUPERIXTEXDEXT OF A LUNATIC ASYLUM. - LETTER TO GEORGE COMBE OX IXTBO- DUCLJfG RELIGIOX EXTO COMMOX SCHOOLS. DR COMBE'S EFFORTS IX RELATIOX TO A LAWSUIT IX THE COURTS OF PARIS, AT THE IXSTAXCE OF THE PHREXOLOGICAL SOCIXTT AGAIXST DR ROBERT VEBJTT. STATE OF DR COMBE'S HEALTH IX OCTOBER AXD XOTEM- BER 1846. ON the 9th of August 1846 Dr Combe wrote to Miss DunTille the following letter, on the evils of isolating children in their education : " I trust that you will hare as much as possible other children as companions for your nephew. The more I see and the longer I live, I am the more struck with the evils of the prevailing system of iso- lating children within their own family circle, however small, as if no other children were good enough to be their companions. It cul- tivates selfishness and feebleness of character, by destroying the elas- ticity and vigour of action elicited by contact with other minds than their own. At their age, too, it is most unnatural. I daily thank Heaven more and more for having been left by my parents to mix freely in the play and society of all the children in our neighbour- hood without exception. They were all poor, sons of brewers, tanners, journeymen printers, and so forth ; as the brewery was situated in a poor quarter. Some of them were ragged and ill-fed ; but I am sure that I owe **<* good and little harm to their companionship. In mo- rality and amiability, I must even now do them the justice to say, they were not my inferiors. The few black sheep were instinctively shunned by the better sort, without bidding from father or mother; and this stands tnu to natore at att ayes. Hence, fences are much leas 496 QUALIFICATIONS FOR THE needed than is supposed. As we grew up, a gradual separation ensued as our pursuits and feelings diverged; but goodwill remained till companionship ended in a friendly nod. The worst evil I suffered was imbibing in a stronger form the Scottish pronunciation, which will stick to me for ever ; but that I should have had at any rate, only in a shade less deep, and it is a small price to pay for the ad- vantages gained." On the 14th of August he wrote to Mr John Scott, the treasurer of the Royal Edinburgh Lunatic Asylum, on the qualifications to be sought for in a superin- tendent of that Institution : " I regret very much my inability to attend the meeting of the managers of the Asylum, to take into consideration Dr Mackinnon's resignation. In common with the rest of the managers, I sincerely lament that the infirm state of his health should have rendered it necessary for him to take this step. * * * Should the managers accept, unconditionally, his resignation, I would respectfully suggest that the situation should be thrown open, and every effort made to secure a thoroughly competent successor. From the great extension of the asylum, the necessity becomes daily more urgent to place over it a man not only of sound views and high attainments, but of the highest obtainable qualifications and experience, and who shall also possess that physical strength, natural activity, and mental energy, without which, constant intercourse with the insane becomes a drudgery, instead of a labour of love and moral interest. It is on the resident medical officer that the success of every asylum, as a means of cure, must ever mainly depend ; and it would be a serious error to content ourselves with a person of merely average qualifica- tions from a false regard to economy, and trust to the occasional visits of a non-resident adviser to make up for his deficiencies. I have seen many asylums, but never one that was really excellent as an instru- ment of cure, unless there was an ever-vigilant and energetic spirit presiding over it, and keeping a watchful eye equally on the patients and on the attendants. Without a directing spirit being ever pre- sent, there can be no efficient ministration on the part of the subor- dinates ; no confiding and healthful reliance on the part of the patients ; and none of that wholesome activity and unity of action and of feeling, which bring about so many valuable results. With com- mon kindness and common sense, it is not difficult to present the ex- ternal features of order and comfort ; but it is an order which is con- stantly in danger of falling into lifeless routine, and which leaves SUPERINTENDENT OF A LUNATIC ASYLUM. 497 many a patient to move on in the dull round of disease, who, by in- dividual care and attention might have been roused to healthful hope and activity. It wants the prompt and life-like aspect which charac- terises efficiency, where every man is made to feel instinctively what he ought to do, and how to do it in the best manner. To the patient himself, the difference is very great between feeling himself indivi- dually the object of an intelligent and ever-active sympathy, and being only one out of many one of a general mass as it were all treated kindly, but with no regard to peculiarities of character or condition. " I have alluded to this subject, because, from the increased num- ber of cures in all asylums since the introduction of an improved moral treatment, a notion has been gaining ground of late, that no peculiar advantage is to be obtained from the appointment of medical men to the superintendence of institutions for the insane ; and that any unprofessional man of good sense and good character may dis- charge all the duties equally well, aided only by visits from a non-re- sident physician. When in Ireland last year, I found that it had even been proposed that Government should sanction such an arrange- ment in the public asylums of that country. Were such a course to be adopted, I feel assured that it would speedily put a stop to the improvement which has been going on so rapidly for the last twenty years ; and I conceive that the proposal must have arisen solely from no advantage having been derived from appointing men who had no knowledge of, or interest in, the subject, and no other qualification than their being medical. If so, I perfectly agree with those who see no superiority of qualification in such medical men over others not belonging to the profession. I admit farther, that, in many instances, kind treatment, removal from home, and ordinary attention to the physical comforts of the patient, suffice to effect a cure without any peculiar exercise of professional skill. But it is not less true, that there are many cases in which a knowledge of the individual consti- tution, and a more correct acquaintance with the laws of action of the different bodily and mental functions, and with the manner in which external causes act in disturbing or restoring health, would en- able a reflecting physician to contribute successfully to a recovery, where, from the want of that knowledge, a non-professional officer would fail to be of any service. " Another important ground of preference for a thoroughly quali- fied professional superintendent is, that the thoughts and feelings of the insane are in them the symptoms of the disease which requires to be cured, and, as such, have a meaning which only a competent medical authority can interpret with accuracy. They are the means by which 2 i 498 QUALIFICATIONS FOR SUPERINTENDENT OF AN ASYLUM. we form an opinion of the condition of the patient, and they can be- come known to us in their ever-varying shades, only by a frequency and familiarity of intercourse which no merely visiting physician can enjoy. It often happens, that after removal to an asylum a marked improvement ensues, which seems to promise an early and complete recovery ; but after the lapse of a few weeks or months, all progress ceases, and after vibrating for a while between sanity and insanity, the patient begins to retrograde, unless some efficient means are re- sorted to, to turn the scale once more in his favour. In cases of this kind it will be observed, that the fate of the patient and the happi- ness of families often depends not only on the professional skill and sagacity of the medical adviser, but on his intimate and accurate knowledge of the true condition of the patient. In the hands of a vigilant and thoughtful physician, every effort will be made to carry on the improvement to entire recovery by the judicious application of some new stimulus or change of social position ; while, under the eye of a man of routine, the time for action will be allowed to go by till the disease has become rooted and incurable. I have the direct testimony of experienced men, both abroad and at home, to the fre- quent occurrence of such cases, which shew strongly how unwise it would be, even in an economical view, to risk their accumulation, by the appointment of any but a man of the highest qualification we can command. I am quite aware how much good may be done by the visits of a consulting physician working in harmony with a resident, but I feel assured that Dr GHllespie will agree with me that they can never supply his place. " The last reason which I shall urge for recommending that every effort should be made, consistent with the state of our funds, to secure the services of a first-rate man is, that the Institution will, ere long, be looked to for supplying more fully the means of instruction to the students of our medical school, on a class of diseases from the study of which they have been hitherto shut out, but which, nevertheless, they are expected to understand. Experience has shewn, that under proper regulations, the admission of a limited number of students, and the delivery of clinical instruction, may be made advantageous even to the patients. But I need not do more than hint at this part of the subject, as I feel assured that the managers are most desirous to act in a right spirit with regard to this and all other appointments." When Dr Combe was in London, Mr Cobdeii pro- posed to him to accompany himself and Mrs Cobden to Egypt for the winter, but Sir James Clark put a nega- INTRODUCTION OF RELIGION INTO COMMON SCHOOLS. 499 tive on the plan, as beyond Dr Combe's strength ; and he passed the remainder of the autumn of 1846 at Dunoou, on the Clyde, and continued his usual habits. A little later he was appointed one of the Physicians in Ordinary to the Queen in Scotland; an honorary office, without salary or duties. On the 22d of October he wrote to his brother George, then on a visit in Forfar shire, on the subject of the INTRODUCTION OF RELIGION INTO COMMON SCHOOLS. His remarks were called forth by reading the manu- script of a pamphlet by his brother, on the right and duty of Government to educate the people.* " The most ticklish question concerns the propi'iety of separating secular from religious instruction. You lay down a rule, that society has an undoubted right to enforce secular instruction and training, because these relate to man's fitness for his duties as a member of society ; and you shew admirably, that he is not warranted in claim- ing the benefits of his neighbours' enlightenment and prudence, while he refuses to qualify himself to the utmost of his capacity for his own social duties and burdens. You add, that society has not the same right to enforce religious instruction, because it has its issues in eternity, and thus concerns only the individual in his individual capacity. " I have thought much on this subject of late years, and my con- viction has long been, that it is impossible and unnatural to separate religious from secular instruction, because no such distinction exists in rerun natura, and to attempt to enforce one, is to fight against a shadow. Keep in mind, that we are not entitled to represent re- ligion to be, what its fanatical abusers make it, viz.. a collection of dogmas, belief in which is essential for the salvation of the soul. " Religion, as represented by its more rational teachers and pro- fessors, has a direct and constant bearing on our social conduct and duties ; and is, in fact, intended to regulate these, as well as to secure eternal happiness. It is unwarrantable, then, to treat of it as if it were intended solely to obtain salvation. Take sincerely religious * The title is, " Remarks on National Education." 8vo, pp. 38. Fourth edition. 500 ON THE INTRODUCTION OF RELIGION and rational-minded people, and you find their whole conduct in- fluenced and improved by their religion. In discussing the question, therefore, we are bound to take the best form of religion as the standard ; and if we do so, you will readily grant, that there is not only no means of excluding it, but no act of social life in which it should not exercise an influence. When I was apparently in ex- tremis in February 1845, this truth came so vividly before me in con- nection with the ' Physiology of Digestion,' which I was then re- vising, that I recollect attempting to tell you, that I considered a pro- per exposition of science and religion to be inseparable and identical ; and that I wished much to have the power of bringing out their con- nection in a more palpable way than had ever been done before. Since then, I have often been haunted by the same desire, but with- out being able to fulfil it; nor can I here do justice to my views. " True religion (and there is none else) consists in knowing the ways of God, in loving and adoring Him, and endeavouring in all things to do His will. Now, education is nothing except in so far as it enables us to attain these ends ; and therefore, instead of excluding it, I would make all education anatomy, physic, physiology, natu- ral philosophy, mathematics, and all religious, and thereby add greatly to their interest and power. You say truly that whatever rests upon the order of nature will work good, and should be taught. So say I. "Whatever is at variance with the order of nature will work evil, and therefore should be discountenanced. " If you then ask, Do I advocate the teaching of what is called re- ligion in our schools ? I say, No. I advocate strongly teaching reli- gion, but not sectarianism. As I view the matter, it stands thus. The nation consists of A, B, C, and D, each of whom is strongly im- pressed with the importance of religious instruction to the welfare of the young ; but along with religious truth, A has mixed up one great error, the consequences of which are evil ; B another, C a third, and D a fourth. Bach sees his neighbour's error and evil, but not his own ; each is, consequently, determined to enforce instruction in his error along with the truth common to all ; and each is reso- lute not to yield place to the others. This is a fix. If you step in and say, ' A's error relates only to eternity, and concerns him alone let us, therefore, exclude his religion altogether,' B, C, and D will instantly join hands with A, and exclaim against the exclusion, be- cause, along with his error, it throws overboard much of the truth. As none will yield, there is practically no mode of escape from the difficulty, but to prohibit them all from teaching their peculiar creeds in schools intended for the use of all, and to induce them to teach as much of the truth upon which they are all agreed as can possibly be INTO COMMON SCHOOLS. 501 done. This is what is now actually done in the National Schools in Ireland ; and the only additional way to do good is to use every means of enlightening society as to what is religion, and what is not, with a view to increase the points of their agreement." Dr Coinbe pursued the subject in the following let- ter, dated the 24th October, which is perhaps not sur- passed iu value by any that he ever wrote. It was ad- dressed to his brother, but never delivered to him ; the reason of which is explained in a note by Dr Combe to Sir James Clark, dated 21st December 1846 : " I send for your perusal an unfinished letter I wrote two months ago to my brother when he was in Forfarshire, the sequel to one written two days earlier, pointing out corrections in fact and principle required in his essay on education, then in embryo. The present letter was not sent, be- cause he returned home, and we discussed the subject viva voce. He modified his views a good deal, and made them what they now are." The letter inserted below is taken from Dr Combe's letter-book, and to this day his brother has never seen the original. In- deed, it was only in February 1850, while preparing the present work for the press, that the copy came under his notice. The identity of views contained in the fol- lowing letter and in George's two pamphlets subse- quently published under the titles of " The Relation between Religion and Science," 7 * and " What should Secular Education embrace ?" f is naturally accounted for by the constant and unreserved communication of thought which took place between the brothers. " I could not bring out my views fully in ray letter of 22d, nor can I now ; hut I shall make a remark or two more. Conscious of the immense power of the religious sentiments in the human mind, and of the impossibility of separating them without violence from * 8vo, pp. 46, third edition. t 8vo, pp. 36. 502 ON THE INTRODUCTION OF RELIGION their vital union with the moralities, I have all along felt that the plan of excluding religion from education was inherently a defective one, which could not continue to hold its place against the assaults of reason and truth. In the past position of the question, it was the best which could be followed, and was defensible as the smallest of several evils among which society was compelled to choose. As such I still advocate and defend it ; but I think it important that it should be defended and advocated on its true grounds, and not as in itself proper and desirable. Instead, therefore, of recommending the sepa- ration of secular from religious instruction, as in themselves distinct, I would adopt the true grounds, and in answer to the wish of some to make all education religious, say, ' Yes, I agree with you entirely that all education must be based on religion, and that the authority of Glod should be recognised by us all as the only infallible standard in everything ; but, that we may know what we are talking about, let us understand distinctly what each of us means by religion.' Standing on such a basis, we cannot be shaken by either Jew or Gentile, Calvinist or Lutheran. Then comes the discussion, What is religion ? A says it is a code embracing, suppose, ten principles in all. On examination, B, C, and D find that, say, eight of these refer to practical matters directly influencing conduct and character, and that they approve of them as true ; but each affirms that the remain- ing two are church dogmas, untrue, dangerous to salvation, and de- serving of all reprobation. For these B proposes to substitute other two ; but is, in his turn, voted wrong by A, C, and D. The latter two follow with their substitutes, and are each condemned ; all, meanwhile, admitting the eight practical principles to be sound and necessary to happiness. Here it is plain, that if the children of all are to attend the same school, a compromise must take place ; and, while all agree to leave out the two articles, they may cordially unite in teaching the remaining eight, and in endeavouring to insure their recognition by the pupils as their best guides, and as indispensable links in that re- ligious chain which binds them to their Creator, and imposes upon them the primary duty of seeking to know and do His will in all things. This done, let the parents and priests teach what they deem truth on the two disputed points, in addition to the religious principles thus daily and hourly inculcated and brought into practice among both teachers and pupils. " It may be said that this is what is done already. But there is a difference. At present the line of separation between religious and secular education is drawn sharp, and, in the school, the pupil is not taught that the natural arrangements he studies or sees in play around him, have been devised by Divine Wisdom for his guidance and hap- INTO COMMON SCHOOLS. 503 piness, nor are his feelings interested in securing obedience and grati- tude to God as a moral and religious duty in return. The arrange- ments of nature are taught simply as ' knowledge' coming from nobody, and leading only to worldly advantage, not personal happiness. Re- ligion, again, is taught not as the complement of that knowledge, leading the mind back to God, and bearing at every moment on our welfare, but as a something apart, which does not dovetail with our conduct or duties. In short, the prominent idea in the minds of both teachei-s and taught, under the present national system, is, that secu- lar knowledge and religion are distinct, and have no natural connec- tion ; and hence neither exercises its legitimate influence. " But the result will be different if it be recognised universally that, taught as it ought to be, all the knowledge conveyed is inherently reli- gious, and calculated, necessarily, to bring the creature and the Crea- tor into more immediate contact, and to develope feelings of love, ad- miration, reverence, and submission to the Divine will. Let it be pro- claimed and understood that the inevitable tendency of knowledge is to lead the mind to the Creator, and that wherever it is taught with- out this result, there is and must be a defect of method, or a fault in the teacher, which ought instantly to be remedied. Let it be pro- claimed to the four corners of the earth, that education, rightly con- ducted, is religious in the highest degree, although embracing none of the tenets peculiar to sects or parties, and that a ' godless educa- tion' is a contradiction and a moral impossibility. It would be as logical to speak of a solar light without a sun. Every truth, moral, physical, or religious, springs from and leads directly to God ; and no truth can be taught, the legitimate tendency of which is to turn us away from God. " Instead, therefore, of giving in to the opponents of national edu- cation, and admitting a real separation between secular and religious knowledge, I would proclaim it as the highest recommendation of secular knowledge, that it is inherently religious, and that the opponents are inflicting an enormous evil on society by preventing philosophers and teachers from studying and expounding its religious bearings. If this were done, it would lay the odium at the right door, and shew that the sticklers for exclusive church-education are the real authors of ' a gigantic scheme of godless education,' in attaching such import- ance to their own peculiar tenets on certain abstract points, that rather than yield the right of conscience to others, they are willing to con- sign society at large to an absolute ignorance of the ways of God as exhibited in the world in which He has placed them, and to all the misery, temporal or eternal, certain to result from that ignorance. " It must be admitted that, as at present taught, much of our know- 504 ON THE INTRODUCTION OF RELIGION ledge is not religious ; but this is an unnatural and avoidable, not a necessary evil, and it has arisen, in a great measure, from the denunciations of the party now opposed to the diffusion of educa- tion. By stigmatizing as infidel and godless whatever knowledge was not conjoined with their own peculiar creed, they deterred men from touching upon or following out the religious aspects of know- ledge ; and if they be allowed to maintain longer the wall of separa- tion they have erected, the result will continue to be the same as in times past. The only way to meet them, is to turn the tables and de- nounce them as the obstructers and enemies of religious education, because they refuse to allow any exposition of the Divine wisdom, and arrange- ments, and will, which does not also assume the equal infallibility and importance of their interpretation of His written wisdom and ways. This is a tyranny to which human reason cannot continue to submit, and the sooner they are put on the defensive the better. " Science is, in its very essence, so inherently religious, and leads back so directly to God at every step, and to His will as the rule of our happiness, that nothing would be easier, or more delightful, or more practically improving to human character and conduct, than to ex- hibit even its minutest details as the emanations of the Divine wisdom, and their indications as those of the Divine will for our guidance. In a well-conducted school-room or college-hall, the religious senti- ments might be nourished with the choicest food part passu with every advance in intellectual knowledge. The constant practice of exhibiting the Deity in every arrangement, would cultivate habitually that devotional reverence and obedience to His will which are now in- culcated only at stated times, and apart from everything naturally calculated to excite them. So far from education or knowledge proving hostile to the growth of religion in the minds of the young, they would in truth constitute its most solid foundation, and best pre- pare the soil for the seed to be afterwards sown by the parent and priest, who would then receive from school a really religious child fashioned to their hands, instead of being, as now, presented only with the stony soil and the rebellious heart. " The practical inference from all this is, that while we continue to advocate the exclusion of sectarianism of every hue from our educa- tional institutions, we are so far from wishing to exclude religion it- self, that our chief desire is to see all education rendered much more religious than it has ever been, or ever can be, under the pre- sent system. To make religion bear its proper fruit, it must be- come a part and parcel of everyday life. It must, in fact, be mixed up with all we think, feel, and do ; and if science were taught as it ought to be, it would be felt to lead to this, not only without IXTO COJIMOX SCHOOLS. 505 effort, bat necessarily. God is the creator and arranger of all things; and wherever we point out a use and pre-arranged design, we ne- cessarily point to Him. If we can then shew that the design has a l?wdt*t purpose, and that its neglect leads to suffering, we thereby necessarily exhibit the loving-kindness of God, and recognise it even in our suffering. If we next point out harmony between apparently unconnected relations, and shew how all bear on one common end\ we necessarily give evidence of a wisdom, omniscience, and power, calculate*! to gratify, in the highest degree, our sentiments of won- der, reverence, and admiration. If we familiarise the mind with the order and laws of God's providence, and their beneficent ends as rules for our conduct, the very reverence thereby excited will prompt to submission systematic submission, because cheerful and confiding to His will as our surest trust. Here. then, is the legitimate field for the daily, hourly, and unremitting exercise of the religious feelings in the ordinary life of man, and for the exercise of that true, vivifying, practical religion which sees God in all things, lives in His presence, and delights in fulfilling His will. " The slender influence of sectarian religion in regulating the daily conduct of civilized man, and the exclusiveness with which its ma- nifestations are reserved for stated times and seasons, together with the small progress which it has made in leavening the mass, furnish ample evidence that some grievous error deprives it of its legitimate power, and limits its diffusion. The more narrowly we examine the matter, the more evident will it become that the sticklers for a sec- tarian education, as the only one allowable, are the great stumbling- blocks in the way of true religion, and that the ignorance whkh they cherish is the grand source of that apathy and irreligion against which they clamour so lustily. Science is by them reviled and de- spised as merely human knowledge. The epithet is ludicrously false and illogical. AU tiwMw is divine. All knowledge refers to God, or to God T s doings. There is no such thing as ' human" knowledge in the proper sense of the word. What is true is of God, whether it re- late to science or religion. What is not true is error, whether espoused by infidel or priest. Lutheran or Catholic, Mahomedan or Brahmin. Accurate knowledge (and titert if mm*. 4ikr) is not of human but of Divine origin. If man mrenfe notions and styles them know- ledge, that does not give them the character of real knowledge. They remain human inventions or errors as much as before. But whenever man discovers a trmA either in physics or philosophy, either by accident or by design, he is certain that God is its author, and that if seen in it* true relations to himself and to creation, it will be found charac- terised by the wisdom, power, and goodness of its divine source. 506 ON THE INTRODUCTION OP RELIGION Nothing can shake him in this belief. Stigmatize him as you will, his faith will remain firm and unhesitating, because he knows the attri- butes of God to be unchangeable and eternal. ' Godless education,' forsooth ! It is an absolute contradiction in terms ; and those who obstruct the progress of religion by such an outcry have much to answer for, and little know the evil they are doing. " In times past man has erred by acting regardlessly of God's will and plans, and his reward has been misery and crime. Instead of attempting to create and legislate, let him study and understand what God has created, and the laws already imprinted by Him on all that exists. If his health is to be promoted, let him take for his guidance the arrangements made by God for the healthy action of his various functions, and act in the closest accordance with their dictates. If he has a social duty to perform, let him consult the moral law imprinted on his nature by the Deity, and copied into the records of Christianity. If he wishes even to brew or to bake with profit and success, let him study the laws of fei'mentation arranged by Divine Wisdom, and conform to the conditions which they impose as indispensable for securing the result. If he wishes to provide the means of travelling with speed and safety, let him study the laws of gravitation and of motion, and those which regulate the production and expansion of steam, and adapt his machinery to fulfil the conditions imposed upon their use by the Deity himself. If he does not, he will either fail or suffer. If he does, he will move along with speed and safety. If he wishes to have his coat dyed of a fast colour, let him study the qualities which God has conferred on colouring objects, and the relations in which they stand to the properties of the wool, and conform to their indications, and he will have the guarantee of Omniscience for his success. In short, he cannot stir in the performance of any act or duty without either a direct or implied reference to the harmony and unchange- ableness of the Divine laws. From thoughtlessness and an imperfect education, he may neglect looking deeper than the surface, and see only man and man's inventions, where, in truth, God reigns supreme and alone, hidden from our view only by the ignorance of man. Rightly directed, then, education, instead of being ' godless,' would confer its chief benefits by removing the curtain which hides God from our view. Instead of keeping Him, as an awful abstraction, in a background too remote from the ordinary affairs of life for either clear perception or wholesome influence, as is at present done by the sectarian religionist, science and education would reveal Him to the human understanding and feelings as an ever-present, ever-acting Being, whom it was no longer possible to forget, and whose care and INTO COMMON SCHOOLS. 507 watchfulness over us are equalled only by His attributes of benevo- lence and justice. " Such, then, is the direct and legitimate tendency of that science and knowledge so unjustly stigmatized as * human,' and * secular,' and ' godless !' And why so stigmatized ? Merely because its culti- vators and teachers refuse to mix up with it certain dogmas of an ab- stract nature, on which the greatest differences of opinion prevail among the numerous sects which constitute the religious world 5 The truths on which all agree truths proceeding from, and leading di- rectly to (rod as their author and source, and replete with blessings to man are to be deliberately excluded and denounced, and the dis- puted and abstract dogmas introduced in their place ! What can be the results of such a course of proceeding ? If the tree is to be known by its fruit, as the Scriptures say, we can have very little hesitation in declaring the existing tree of sectarianism to be not worth the cul- tivation ; for the burden of the complaints of all so-called evan- gelical sects is, that, in spite of their utmost exertions, the cause of religion retrogrades so much so, that, according to Dr Chalmers's estimate, even in our highly-civilized communities, not one in twenty, and, in many instances, not one in ninety or a hundred, lives under its influence, or knows what it is. Admit this picture to be correct in its main features, does it not point to some serious error, which silently undermines our utmost exertions ? And if so, why persevere blindly in the same course, and obstinately refuse to tread another and more direct, though hitherto neglected, path to the same living and true God, whom we all seek and profess to adore and obey f " It may be said that, as now conduct*], education, when not ac- companied by a creed, does not lead to God. That it does not in some schools, is true ; and that in none does it go nearly so tar in this direction as it might and ought to do, is also true. But this defect has arisen in a great measure from the very prohibition attempted to be en- forced of giving education without a creed ; and it admits of an easy remedy the moment the prohibition shall be removed. Let it once be known that doctrinal creeds are no longer to be taught in schools as the condition of obtaining general education ; but that, on the other hand, an accurate and extensive knowledge of the laws of God, as exhibited in creation, and as regulating man's whole existence on earth, will be considered indispensable in the teacher, and that his chief duty will consist in impressing on his pupils the living conviction that they can be happy in this world only in proportion as they act in ac- cordance with these laws, and that it is God and not man who arranges and upholds the moral laws under which society exists ; and then his task will become at once more pleasing and more successful, and every 508 ON THE INTRODUCTION OF RELIGION day will add to the facilities and aids which he will meet with in ful- filling it. Education will then be both moral and religious in its every phase ; and its influence on conduct, now so small, will every day become more visible, because backed by the Divine authority. Education thus conducted would become the groundwork of that later and more practical education which is now acquired in the actual business of life, and compared with which our present school-educa- tion avowedly bears a very small value. " To insist on connecting dogmas about the corruption of human nature, the Trinity, and the atonement, with the knowledge of exter- nal creation, is to insist on mixing up matters which have no natural connection or affinity, and which, consequently, can never be made to assimilate. Let it be assumed that man has fallen from his original condition, and that his nature is corrupt, the great fact remains, that the world was created and received its present constitution from God before man fell. Whatever may have happened to man, the laws of the universe were not changed. The heavenly bodies moved in their or- bits in obedience to the same forces which still operate. In our own globe, we can demonstrate the present operation of the same physical laws which were in action thousands or millions of years before man was called into existence. It is worse than folly, it is impiety and rebellion against the eternal God, to say that a knowledge of His works shall not be communicated except in conjunction with a dis- puted creed, which does not and cannot change their nature ; and yet this is what must happen if the opponents of national education have their way. The Christian revelation does not abrogate or su- persede the pre-existing order of Nature. On the contrary, it rests upon it as the only basis on which the superstructure of revelation can be made to stand ; and therefore the more clearly the order of Na- ture is expounded, the more easily will the true bearings of Chris- tianity be appreciated, and its principles carried into practice. To the orang-outang or the monkey, revelation is without meaning or influence, because in their nature it can find no resting-place, and no point of contact. To man it would be equally valueless, if its doc- trines were not in harmony with his nature and constitution. And therefore, even if education were to be confined solely to religious in- struction, the most successful way would still be to begin by culti- vating and developing the groundwork or soil of natural religion, in which alone revelation can take root. " If neither the state nor the people are to be allowed to teach natural religion, and make use of it in promoting good conduct, then it matters little who has the charge of educating the people in our schools. So long as education is confined to reading, writing, INTO COMMON SCHOOLS. 509 arithmetic, and the communication of the elements of knowledge with- out constant reference to its uses and its relation to its Divine Author, it will prove both barren and godless, whether accompanied by a creed or not The only education worth having is that which is to influ- ence conduct, and thereby improve our condition. If such education cannot be taught to the young, the more urgent the need to begin by enlightening the old who direct the young. If prohibited from teach- ing the children, let us begin by educating their parents. By perse- verance we may produce an impression on their common sense in the course of time, and thus at last get access to schools. As yet, natural religion has never been taught to either old or young, and. therefore, it cannot be said to have proved ineffective. Xo single work exists, so far as I know, having for its aim to expound the close relation subsisting between natural religion and human improvement. The existence and operation of natural laws have been demonstrated, but N#f tkit1y and fovrly wndurt. Venera- tion has been hitherto supposed to have its true scope in the adora- tion of the Deity ; but its more important and equally elevated use in prompting to willing submission to His laws and authority as an ear- nest of our sincerity, has been almost overlooked. The religions and moral feelings have never been made acquainted with their own inti- mate and indissoluble union, or trained to act with the intellect in studying and obeying the natural laws/' In reference to this letter, Dr Combe, on the 12th January 1847, wrote to Sir James Clark as follows : " Your high estimate of my views encourages me much to prepare them for the public. They give me great delight ; and when I was apparently sinking in February 1845, I told my brother that my chief regret was, that I had not been able to shew that all science necessarily and directly leads back to God as its source and centre, and derives its whole value as coming from Him. and that it cannot be properly taught except as inseparable from religion. My convic- tion is, that the true sphere of the religious, and, in some degree, of the moral emotions, has been misunderstood, and that in legislating for the moral, religious, intellectual, or physical nature of man, we forget a great deal too much that man if *// a compound unit, no doubt, hut still a being, afl of whose faculties were pre-arranged to act together in harmony. It is just the same error as in medicine. We look too much at the abstract disease, and too little at the living individual who suffers from it." Among other matters which occupied Dr Combe's 510 LAWSUIT AGAINST DR ROBERT VERITY. thoughts and pen during the last years of his life, was a lawsuit in the French Courts at the instance of the Phrenological Society (of Edinburgh) against Dr Robert Verity of Paris, sole executor of the late Dr Roberton of that city. As the case not only formed a subject of deep and painful interest to Dr Combe, but involved questions of international law affecting the property of all British subjects dying in France, and leaving, as their executors, British subjects resident in that coun- try, a brief history of it may with propriety be here introduced. So strongly did he feel in this matter, that he contributed two hundred and twenty pounds to the fund subscribed by members of the Phrenological Society for carrying on the lawsuit against Dr Verity. In a letter dated 30th August 1841, he intimated to the Society " his intention, should no more urgent claims come in the way in the interval between that time and his death, to devote as much as 500 for the purpose, if that should be required to establish our right, or to do our utmost to establish it." More urgent claims did intervene, so that the amount actually de- voted by him to the purpose was only 200, in addition to 20 subscribed independently of that sum. As no private benefit could accrue to himself or any other member of the Society from the legacy in question, pub- lic spirit and virtuous indignation were his only induce- ments to be so liberal. He was personally acquainted with Dr Roberton, whose purpose in bequeathing the chief part of his fortune to the Society appears from two letters which he wrote to Sir George Mackenzie in March 1840, and which are quoted in the Phrenological Journal, vol. xv., p. 88. The following report appeared in The Economist news- paper of llth September 1847, and with a slight correc- tion which has now been made, it is substantially correct. LAWSUIT AGAINST DR ROBERT VERITY. 51 1 " Dr Roberton, a native of Scotland, resided upwards of twenty- five years in Paris, where he practised his profession, and left a for- tune invested in French securities. He had never obtained letters of ' authorisation' to fix his domicile in France, and was, therefore, in the eye of the law, a foreigner at the time of his death. He executed a testament in terms of the French law, in which he nominated Dr Verity, an Englishman residing in Paris, his sole executor. He died in Paris in September 1840, and Dr Verity entered on the execution of the testament. It bestowed certain legacies on individuals named in it, and constituted the Phrenological Society of Edinburgh the residuary legatee, to whom Dr Verity was instructed to pay over the free residue of the funds after paying all the special legacies and ex- penses. " Dr Verity uplifted about 400,000 francs, or 16,000 sterling, of executry funds, and in due season the Society called on him to render an account of his administration, and to pay the residue to them ; which, according to their information, should have amounted to about 15,000 sterling. The executor met this demand with a denial of the existence of the Society, and disputed its right to take up the residue under the will. " The Society took the advice of eminent lawyers in Edinburgh, London, and Paris, and were assured that their title to the legacy was unobjectionable ; and they, in consequence, commenced a suit in the proper French Court in Paris, to compel the executor to account for the funds, and to pay over the residue to them. Dr Verity met their demand by denying their existence as a Society, and their right to receive the legacy, and by denying also the right of the French Courts to judge in the matter. The French Court, ' Le Tribunal de la Seine,' sustained the objection to their own jurisdiction, and refused to entertain the cause at all, as being one between foreigners, and con- cerning the executry estate of a foreigner. " The Society entered an appeal to the ' Cour Royale de Paris,' and prayed that Court to reverse the decision, and, in the mean time, to order Dr Verity to consign, in the hands of an officer of Court, the amount of the residue of the estate. On the 8th of August 1842, the ' Cour Royale' pronounced a decree, finding that, as both parties are foreigners, the French tribunals cannot judge of any questions between them ; but they ordered the executor to consign the residue of the succession for safe custody. " Dr Verity declined to comply with the order to consign, and the Society applied to the Court for the means of compulsion. On the 4th December 1843, the Court ordained the executor, within three days, to consign the sum of 30,000 francs, to account of the residue (the 512 LAWSUIT AGAINST DR ROBERT VERITY. exact amount of which Dr Verity did not disclose), with 50 francs per day of penalty, in the case of non-compliance. " The executor entered an appeal against this judgment to the Court of Cassation of Paris ; and on the 18th of August 1847, they reversed the decree of 4th December 1843 (appointing him to consign the spe- cific sum of 30,000 francs to account, under the penalty of 50 francs per day in case of delay), on the ground that, Dr Verity being a fo- reigner, the tribunals of France are incompetent to pronounce a sen- tence of personal condemnation against him, and that the order to consign, with a penalty attached to it, amounted to such a condemna- tion. As the order of 8th August 1842, ordering Dr Verity to con- sign the residue of the succession for safe custody, had not been ap- pealed against, it never was before the Court of Cassation at all, but was final and imperative. With the view of enabling the Society to follow it out, the Court of Cassation remitted the case, with the fore- going finding, to the ' Cour Royale de Rouen,' to do farther in the matter as to them might seem proper.* " The explanation given of the remit to the ' Cour Royale de Rouen,' is, that that court and the ' Cour Royale de Paris ' are equal in au- thority, and that, by the French practice, the court of appeal, when it alters a judgment of an inferior tribunal, does not remit the case to it to correct its own errors, but sends it to another court of equal authority, which is supposed to be more free from bias or tendency to err a second time. * The case is reported in the Jurisprudence Generate du Royaume, 1847, Premiere Partie, p. 345. The judgment as there given is as fol- lows : " LA COUR ; Vu 1'art. 14 c. civ. ; Attendu qu'il n'est pas conteste que le demandeur en cassation et les defendeurs sont etrangers, et que le proces engage entre eux est relatif a la succession d'un etranger ; Que le debat ne portait que sur des valeurs mobilieres ; Attendu que la demande sur laquelle a statue 1'arret attaque etait une demande a fin de condamnation personnelle de Verity, laquelle pou- vait etre executee sur ses biens propres; Que 1'arret attaque ne se borne point, comme celui du 8 aout 1842, a ordonner le depot pro- visoire des valeurs litigieuses, mais condamne personnellement Verity, qui avait declare ne plus etre depositaire des valeurs inventories ou de leur produit realise, a verser a la caisse des consignations une somme determinee et 50 fr. par chaque jour de retard ; Attendu qu'une pareille decision n'a plus le caractere d'une simple mesure con- servatoire, que des juges incompetents au fond aient pu ordonner ; Attendu que les tribunaux franjais sont incompetents pour statuer sur une contestation entre etrangers et relative a la succession d'un etranger : D'ou il suit que 1'arret attaque a meconnu les regies de la competence et expressement viole 1'art. 14 c. civ. ; Casse, etc." LAWSUIT AGAINST DR ROBERT VERITY. 513 " As, however, the Court of Cassation had solemnly decided that the tribunals of France are incompetent to enforce the order to con- sign, the Phrenological Society did not carry the case farther. The result of these decisions is practically the following : " That when a British subject, having property in France, executes a testament, perfect in all the forms of French law, and names a British subject resident in France his executor, and directs him to pay legacies, and account for the residue to a British subject, the French tribunals, although they will recognise the validity of the testament, and give him letters of administration to uplift the funds and put them into his own pocket, deny the British legatees all title to sue him for payment, and call him to account. They consider themselves com- petent to order him to consign the executry fund for safe custody, and will receive it if he chooses to comply with their order ; but they consider themselves to have no power to compel him even to consign. " The importance of these decisions to British subjects who are resident in and have property in France, cannot be over-estimated. We are informed that Dr Verity is Physician to the British Embassy in Paris, and that the Phrenological Society has laid a statement of the case before Lord Palmerston. We shall be anxious to learn the result of their appeal to the British Government. According to our information, the law of France rests on the Code Napoleon, which was framed at a time when all Europe was combined against France, and was intended to deny to foreigners of every nation, residents in that country, the aid of the French courts to adjust their claims against each other ; and it remains unaltered to the present day. The Americans, Germans, Russians, and Italians, are all, equally with the British, denied the benefit of the French tribunals, in such cases as the present. This is the more intolerable in the case of British subjects, because the courts, both of England and Scotland, exercise jurisdic- tion over foreigners who have acquired a domicile within their terri- tories, and open their halls equally to foreigners to sue each other and to natives. " In this narrative we have intentionally abstained from entering into any of the minor details of the case. Dr Verity, for example, alleged, in his pleadings before the French courts, that Dr Roberton had left sisters living in Scotland, and that, on the advice of the Lord Advocate of Scotland, he had paid the residue of the estate to them, and obtained their discharge. The Phrenological Society denied that Dr Verity had the right, on the opinion of any legal adviser, however eminent, obtained not in an arbitration, but in private consultation, to set aside the testament under which he was appointed to act ; and they, moreover, denied the fact of his having paid the residue to the 2 K 514 LAWSUIT AGAINST DR ROBERT VERITY. sisters, and called on him to produce the discharge, which he never did. They therefore affirmed that the residue had not been accounted for, or paid to any party whatever, but was and is still in his own possession. Into none of these questions, however, did the French courts enter. They rested solely on their own incompetency to judge of the rights of foreigners in any form whatever ; and it is in conse- quence of this abstract result that the case acquires its great public importance. As Dr Verity is domiciled in France, and has no known property in Britain, the British courts cannot call him effectively to account, and hence there appears to be no remedy in law applicable to the case." The application to Lord Palmerston, before alluded to, represented that the law of France (as settled by this decision), which prohibits the' Courts of that country from exercising jurisdiction in cases between foreigners, " Is extremely illiberal and unjust, and contrasts, in a most un- favourable manner, not only with the laws of Britain, but with those of Germany, the United States of America, and, it is believed, every other civilised country in the world, all of which, in such circum- stances, would sustain action at the instance of one Frenchman against another. The French law, while it lends its authority to a foreign executor to uplift and receive the whole estate of the deceased foreign testator, denies to the foreign legatee all right to call him to account. It entices him to fraud, for it aids him to put the executry funds into his own pocket, and protects him against every attempt by the legatee to compel him to apply the funds according to the testament. Nor is it in matters of succession alone that these consequences arise ; the law in question directly leads to every species of fraud, injustice, and oppression, among foreigners resident in France : and British subjects are no doubt often victims The memorialists therefore earnestly intreat your Lordship to enter into communication with the French Government, with the view of obtaining an alteration of the law ; and to take such farther measures for the public benefit as to your Lordship may seem proper." The memorial was presented to Lord Palmerston by Mr William Gibson-Craig, M.P. for the city of Edin- burgh, who, it is believed from time to time urged his Lordship to give it consideration ; but, so far as the LETTER TO SIR JAMES CLARK. 515 Society has been able to learn, nothing has been done ex- cept remitting the case to the law officers of the Crown for their advice, by whom it appears to have been shelved ; and thus the evil remains in full force to the present day. To borrow a remark made by the Rev. Sydney Smith, on the practice of locking passengers into rail- way carriages, we presume that until a Bishop or a Peer shall suffer a heavy loss under the French law, the injustice which it perpetrates will not excite suffi- cient public interest to induce the Government to apply for its amendment. In the end of autumn Dr Combe began to think of his place of residence for the winter; and from Dunoon he wrote, on the 5th of October, to Sir James Clark : " My condition is very much what might follow from the circula- tion of a preponderant share of venous blood ; i. e., all my functions are lowered. I neither see, hear, feel, nor think, as I used to do ; but now and then I have a comparatively brighter day. I am, how- ever, in no way suffering or unhappy, but merely stupid and flat. My digestion is not so vigorous as usual, and nutrition is also im- paired. My diminished mental power is the greatest evil I am labour- ing under." Again, on the 4th of November, he wrote from Edin- burgh to Sir James on the same subject : " Many thanks for yours of 1st, with your opinion about my winter proceedings. You ask what I think on the subject, and I shall answer you as correctly as I can. Like yourself and our kind friend Scott, I see reasons both for and against my going south ; but my chief diffi- culty concerns the general health, still more directly than the lungs. As formerly mentioned, I am conscious that my brain and nervous system have been considerably impaired in tone, and partly to this cause I attribute the deafness, confusion, and inability for mental exertion, and the diminished powers of resistance which my system shews in some respects. Another of the causes of this diminished tone seems to me to consist in the reduced intercourse which I have with active minds and with social interests. I cannot go into the world to seek such contact, and if I try to bring the world to me, I am apt to 516 LETTER TO SIR JAMES CLARK. get more than enough at one time, and too little at another. If I try to occupy myself with my own pursuits quietly at home, I can succeed to a limited extent, but then comes the want of the fresh and enlivening stimulus which contact with others can alone give. Pro- fessional occupation I dare not resort to, because experience has shewn that it is inadmissible. Besides, to be successful, intercourse must be reciprocal. One must be able to go out as well as receive at home. When friends kindly come to see me, they naturally address them- selves more directly to me than to the family circle, because they wish to entertain me ; but this necessitates reply, and throws the burden as well as the pleasure too exclusively on me. In summer I can go more into the houses of other people, and into contact with many ex- ternal interests, as well as into the open air. There is consequently an influence at work which it is impossible to escape, and not easy to counteract, although my friends are most kind and most considerate. " If you say, ' Well, then, go south, and you will have more freedom of intercourse with society and external nature,' my answer is, ' Yes ; but, per contra, I shall then be withdrawn to a considerable extent from such interests and pursuits as I can engage in with a sense of being useful ; and their place will scarcely be supplied by any thing I am likely to meet with in the superficial kind of intercourse one is limited to with strangers with whom one associates so little as in- valids can do.' My mind, unfortunately, is not a spring always pour- ing out. It requires supply and stimulus from without, and unless on terms of reciprocity, is apt to lose its vigour. In this way I am ' between the de'il and the deep sea,' and I can scarcely tell which to prefer. An incidental evil I feel more every day is, that my mode of life cuts off my niece and nephew, in no small degree, from their natural place in society, by unintentionally but unavoidably inter- posing barriers to reciprocity in their intercourse with society, as well as my own. This is a heavy sacrifice on their part, which they make ungrudgingly, but the evils of which are not, on that account, less felt by me, or serious to themselves. I have sometimes thought that if I were to make a voyage to the West Indies about the end of De- cember, and come home by the United States, it would present some- thing of novelty and interest, and might do good, particularly if I got into a good habitat for two or three months at a suitable elevation ; but then medical opinion seems to say that the West Indies would prove unfavourable to an advanced case like mine. If it were other- wise, I might be tempted to try a voyage there, and if it suited, come home by New York, and see my brother William there. But the pros and cons seem so equally balanced, as to make a decision rather difficult ; and perhaps my best plan will be to go on in the mean time, LETTER TO SIR JAMES CLARK. 517 and if the weather threatens to be severe, or my condition deteriorates, to make a more somewhere by sea, a proceeding not attended with much risk. Sometimes I think seriously, \Fhat does it matter what I do, seeing that I am good for so little as it is? bat I am thankful, nevertheless, for the great comfort I enjoy, and the many alienations I possess. If I could write, it would be something, for I hare many ideas floating in my head ; but I am incapable of sufficiently-sustained working to bring them out, .' the south of England, I feel as if it would be neither fch nor flesh. If I leare home at all, I would rather seek something good enough to compensate what I leare behind. Be easy about my driring. I never go out in an open carriage, and in bad days I stay at home. I am sure I may be thankful to you and Scott for all your care of me, and I am so." The description here given by Dr Combe of his con- dition is painfully correct His friends saw a per- ceptible decay in his mental vigour, as well as in his bodily strength. His power of attending to new sub- jects was much limited, and, in consequence, his judg- ment, in regard to them, became perceptibly feebler. In employing his mind, he acted on the same principles which guided him in managing his bodily functions. He never forced Nature to make an effort at a time when she was incapable of successfully doing so ; nor did he draw upon her resources when he was conscious that she had done all that she could accomplish without ex- haustion. In consequence, his later writings were penned chiefly in short portions, at times when by re- pose he had accumulated strength; and he desisted from writing, the moment he had embodied in language the thoughts which he had elaborated, and expended the cerebral vigour which he had acquired. But in spite of his weakness, he was not only resigned, but cheerful; and his sympathy with all that concerned humanity was as constant as before. He was advised to pass the winter of 1846-7 in Edinburgh, and did so accordingly. 518 VOYAGE TO NEW YORK. CHAPTER XXIX. DR COMBE TAKES A VOYAGE TO NEW YORK. VISITS PHILADELPHIA . AND WEST POINT. IS FORCED BY HIS FAILING HEALTH TO RETURN TO ENGLAND. LETTER TO SIR JAMES CLARK, DESCRIPTIVE OF HIS VISIT. ARRIVES IN LIVERPOOL, AND PROCEEDS TO SCOTLAND. DEATH OF HIS ELDEST SISTER, MRS YOUNG. IS ENGAGED IN WRIT- ING ON THE NATURE AND CAUSES OF FEVER IN EMIGRANT SHIPS. GOES TO GORGIE MILL. IS TAKEN ILL AND DIES. HIS CHARACTER. IT has already appeared that sailing was, on several occasions, highly beneficial to Dr Combe. During the spring of 1847, he thought of trying the effect of a voyage to New York. On this occasion he had also the inducement of a strong desire to visit his brother Wil- liam, who, as formerly mentioned, had long been settled in the United States. His first step, however, was to obtain the opinion of his medical friends on the pro- ject. Writing to Sir James Clark, on the 22d of March, he says : " My motives for the proposed trip to America are these : 1st, I feel a lengthened change necessary to bring up the tone of my ner- vous system, which the comparative seclusion of winter always runs down more or less. 2dly, Sailing always agrees with me ; and in a comfortable ' liner,' with good company and fine May weather, it might be useful. 3dly, I have a strong wish to see my brother Wil- liam in New Jersey once more before I depart, and his two children, whom I have never seen, but am much interested in ; and there is no prospect of his being able to come and see us. 4tMy, I might stay five or six weeks, and yet leave before intense heat sets in. My gi-ounds of doubt are the kind of bustle that Jonathan lives in, and VOYAGE TO SBW YORK. 519 the heat. The latter, with quiet, I would not fear much ; but were it and bustle conjoined, I should not like it. Mr idea is, to make Jersey City, where my brother is, my headquarters, and to make a voyage up the Hudson, and excursions to Philadelphia and Boston by water and rail ; and to be guided by my sensations whether to prolong or shorten my stay, and to boh at once if I find any proba- bility of the change being attended with risk. I hare no wish to be foolhardy, but I feel a necessity for mingling with the living world as far as my strength will permit ; and I certainly was benefited by my long excursions the last summer and the one before. I know that self-denial will be needed to abstain from visiting many institutions which I should like well to see ; but I have been well disciplined in that school already, and trust not to forget my lesson. Under these conditions., then, I suppose that you will still approve. My niece is willing to go, and risk coming home without seeing anything, which I hold to be very magnanimous. What I feel is the inability for mental work, which seclusion increases. I have views which I believe to be important, but am pained at being unable to put forth. In other respects I am wonderfully well, considering that we are now at the end of winter. I have had only one moderate cold within the last six months, where other people have had them by the half-dozen. James Cox examined my chest to-day, and thinks that the left lung is upon the whole in a better state than at any time within the last two years : which is certainly satisfactory for the end of such a winter." Sir James Clark and also Dr Scott having approved of the projected voyage, Dr Combe accordingly sailed from Liverpool on the 16th of April, in the packet-ship " Montezuma," having previously satisfied himself, by personal inspection, of the sufficiency of the accommo- dation it afforded. There were nine cabin passengers, and 360 (chiefly Irish) emigrants in the steerage; and soon after leaving port, the disagreeable discovery was made that this part of the ship extended under the cabin, and, from its crowded and filthy state, constantly vitiated the air above, by sending up un- wholesome and offensive effluvia through openings and crevices of the vessel In addition to this source of injury and discomfort, the weather was often too se- 520 VISITS PHILADELPHIA AND WEST POINT. vere to allow Dr Combe to go on deck ; so that he did not, as usual, derive advantage from the voyage. It is to be observed, also, that before leaving home, his strength had been impaired by the exertion of making necessary arrangements, and receiving the numerous friends who came to wish him a prosperous voyage, and whom he could not, without great violence to his feelings, avoid seeing and conversing with. Perhaps the friends of invalids do not always sufficiently con- sider, on such occasions, how much the strength is tried in receiving a succession of visitors. On 14th May, after an affecting meeting with his brother William, who came on board when the ship was at anchor, he landed at New York. On account of William's house being under repair, he was invited by Mr Andrew Boardman, Counsellor-at-Law, to take up his residence in his house in Brooklyn, where he remained for some days, receiving the kindest attention from him and Mrs Boardman. On the 18th he proceeded by railway to Philadelphia, where several days were spent most agreeably, his spirits being good, and his health in its usual state. Accompanied by Dr John Bell, an eminent physician of that city, he visited the Eastern Penitentiary, the Girard College, and other places of public interest. His inspection of the penitentiary confirmed the fa- vourable opinion he had previously entertained of the principles of " the separate system ;" but he considered that the results would never be satisfactory till much more ample provision should be made for the moral and intellectual improvement of the criminals. In returning, on the 22d, from Philadelphia to visit his brother at Jersey City, in the vicinity of New York, he unfortunately caught cold, which almost wholly confined him to the house for a week. When somewhat LETTER TO SIR JAMES CLARK. 521 recovered, he thought it advisable to take a trip up the Hudson for the benefit of change of air, and ac- cordingly, along with his brother and niece, sailed np the river to West Point. The uncommon heat of the season, however, and the unavoidable fatigue and ex- posure of travelling, which threatened serious damage to his health, soon determined him to renounce all hope of an intended visit to Mr Horace Mann, in Xew England ; and on 8th June he commenced his home- ward voyage, on board the " Mannion, M from New York. In a letter to Sir James Clark, dated "The Ship Marmion, at sea," the 13th of that month, he says : " You will have heard, before this reaches von, that we are on our way home from Yankee-land, leaving much unvisited that it would have delighted us to see, and many persons whom it would have re- joiced us to meet. But as it is, we are glad we have gone across the Atlantic, and thankful for all our mercies. As generally happens in this world of ours, we had a mixture of good and evil, fortunate and unfortunate, in our sojourn ; and after experience of what was likely to ensue if I attempted more, I considered discretion to be, in this instance, the better part of valour, and resolved to come off while my skin was whole the chief end of our stay having been accomplished by a fortnight spent under my brother's roof. I found that even with every precaution I could take, travelling by either land or water was attended with risks which I should not encounter, and that by re- maining, I might forfeit in a few days all that I had gained by years of care. True it is, that I set no great store by life, and that I am good for very little here below ; but, nevertheless, I am willing to re- main till duly dismissed, and do the best I can in the mean time. Even if it shall turn out that I have suffered radically from the ex- cursion, I shall in no way regret having made it. I undertook H after full consideration, and some of its results have compensated me already for the drawbacks attending it. " My brother George will have told you that I caught cold on re- turning from Philadelphia to Jersey City. Its severity was aggravated by a variety of unavoidable causes unnecessary to mention. In a few days I was pulled down so much that I resolved to try a change to the more bracing air of West Point ; and it was in that excursion that 522 LETTER TO SIR JAMES CLARK. I perceived clearly the probability of increased damage from any farther attempts at travelling. And yet, for persons in health, their steamers and railway-cars are so commodious and well managed, that I should very probably be laughed at by 99 in 100 of their occupants, for supposing them unsuitable for pulmonary invalids. The river boats are indeed marvellous. In size, speed, elegance, comfort, and the perfection of order and cleanliness, they are unparalleled. In furniture and decoration they are even splendid. Nowhere is con- venience sacrificed to splendour ; and the beauty of the thing is, that, all the sailing being in smooth water, one can enjoy the splen- dour along with the convenience, which is not the case in our sea- going steamers. Either Jonathan has partially reformed already, or he feels ashamed to soil these elegant boats. Certain at least it is, that both on the Hudson and the Delaware, the spitting was not nearly so bad as I expected. Indeed there was very little, except near the smoking and bar rooms. In the ferry and smaller steamers, where the lower I beg Jonathan's pardon, the poorer classes abounded more, there was much more of it, and once or twice it was disgusting enough. Here on board, we have two Kentucky men who indulge in it without respect to time, place, or circumstance. But among people of ordinary good breeding it did not seem common. Speaking gene- rally, I have seen even more to interest, and less to offend, than I was prepared for. There is no country or people known to me, presenting so many points of interesting observation to a reflecting mind as the United States ; and I should willingly give all I have for a twelve- month of sound lungs and health to spend among them, and be content to make my exit at the end of that time. " The newness of the country and people, and the intense indi- viduality of character displayed by the latter, struck me most forcibly from the first, and remain prominently in my mind still. This cha- racteristic of the people has a good and also a bad side. It is at the bottom of their energy and enterprise, as well as of their indepen- dence. But it renders self so paramount in influence and prominent in action as to make them hard, cold, and dry, in their manners, and somewhat determined and regardless of others in fulfilling their own views. But while they seem to know no difference between a polite and agreeable manner and downright obsequiousness, and there- fore abhor the one in common with the other, the radical civility is there in greater force than one would be led to anticipate. This pro- ceeds obviously from ill-directed independence or dignity ; for there is no reason on earth why the suaviter should be banished from the modo, and the fortiter alone usurp both the thing and the manner. Several times I met with a surly sort of silence when I asked a civil DESCRIPTION OF HIS VISIT TO AMERICA. 523 and pertinent question of railway employes ; but I could scarcely call them gentlemen ; and it seemed, in one or two instances, as if they felt half-ashamed to give me a polite and direct answer, under the idea that it would be held derogatory to their dignity to be questioned by a ' stranger' about the arrangements for his luggage, particularly as these were in themselves excellent, had I only known them as well as they did. '* 16th Here we are nearly half-way across the big Atlantic ferry, and still fanned by damp zephyrs and favoured with seas so smooth, that although lying over to one side a good deal, there has never been motion enough to excite a creak or a groan among the timbers ; whereas, in the Montezuma, the creaking was so incessant as almost to drown my feeble voice and prevent me hearing when in the cabin. On reading this over, I perceive that I have omitted to tell you part of our steamboat experience. As my letter to my brother was sent away from West Point, it contained no account of our return voyage. As the gods would have it, the day was very wet, and, as compared with the Saturday, very cold. On going on board, I consequently made for the saloon. On entering the door, I was met by a close, hot, suffocating blast, which, except that it was somewhat moist, and without much sulphur, might have been supposed to emanate from the depths of Pandemonium. On looking round, I saw the cabin crowded, every window closed, and an anthracite stove in full puff. I instantly retreated, preferring the cool moisture containing oxygen to the hot air and effluvia deprived of it. This was shewing me both sides of the picture the bright and the cloudy and, as neither suited my condition, I had no hesitation in deciding to give up the experiment ; particularly, as in a crowded boat it is impossible either to recline or to escape from well-meant but troublesome and fa- tiguing intrusion. Some of my friends thought me very easily scared, that I should resolve on going back to England because I met with a rainy day on the Hudson, when, perhaps, they would not have another for a month. Others assured me the night-boats were very safe and comfortable ; but they could not so easily explain what advantage I was to derive from sleeping in a handsome state-room in the Isaac Newton in a dark night, and disturbed by arriving at three or four in the morning, when I might enjoy more space and equally fine scenery in my own dark room, without the unseasonable morning disturbance. But as it would have been equally vain and endless to attempt to ex- plain the facts to every one, I just left them to vote me a capricious and nervous invalid acting upon a whim. In some respects I have suffered from evils which no foresight could have prevented. Among others, the horrible fetid effluvia which came oozing up into the cabin 524 ARRIVES IN LIVERPOOL. of the Montezuma from the crowded 'tween-decks, especially during the wet, damp, warm days, had an evil influence on my system as well as comfort, and was a mischance which no mortal could have foreseen. Everybody, without exception, said we should have no inconvenience from the emigrants ; that we had a magnificent poop, and they were all forward. Little did I imagine that they were to be also under us. It was nearly a week before I discovered a hole under my feet where the effluvia came up as through a chimney ; and it was four days more before the carpenter was ordered to fill it up, and then only after a third complaint from me, and an attempt to stop it up with old news- papers. There were other unseen crevices through which it pene- trated at all times in spite of open windows, &c. " 22d June. Fourteen days out, and we expect to see land to-night. If the wind holds, we should be in Liverpool by Friday. Up to Sun- day it was like sailing on a mill-pond with zephyrs and summer skies, only lying half over on our side. Since then the wind has got round to north-west and raised a swell, but we go on steadily on our other side. * * * The captain is an intelligent worthy man, but hard and ungenial in manner. The Kentucky men are going to London and Paris for three months to see the world, and know not a syllable of French, very very little of geography, and speak English in a fashion which is difficult to be understood. One of them asked me, as I lived in Scotland, if I knew one Bob Burns, who was said to be a great poet, but wrote mostly in the Scotch brogue ! ! I had difficulty in recog- nising our bard under this title ; and the youth was amazed when I told him that I did not know Bob personally, seeing as how he died the year before I was born." Dr Combe landed at Liverpool on 25th June, and immediately proceeded to Scotland. Just a week after his return, he suffered the loss of his eldest sister, Mrs Young, who died in her seventieth year, after a few days' confinement to bed. She had often expressed the wish that she might not survive him ; and it was an affecting fulfilment of that wish that he, in the absence of his brother George, who was then on the Continent, performed the duties of chief mourner at her funeral, and laid her in the grave, where, exactly five weeks later, he himself was destined to be placed beside her. The succeeding month was pleasantly spent in pay- ing visits to relations in the neighbourhood of Edin- SATCEE A^D CAUSES OF SHIP-FEVER. 525 burgh, and in taking frequent drives through some picturesque districts of Linlithgowshire. After the death of his sister Mrs Cox, mentioned on p. 388, her eldest son, Mr John Cox, married a daughter of Mr J. R. M'Cnlloch, the political economist, and continued to carry on business at Gorgie MflL Dr Combe was ever welcomed by them as their guest, with the same warmth of affection and attention to his wants and com- forts, which had been shewn to him by his sister ; and towards the close of the month of July, he went to pay them a visit. During this time he was engaged in prepar- ing, at such intervals as his health allowed, a communi- cation on the nature and causes of the ship-fever which, in the spring and summer of 1847, had swept off so many hundreds of unfortunate Irish and others during their emigration to America,* Writing on 2d August to Mr John Brown, corn-merchant in Liverpool, for information about the regulations of emigrant ships, he says : u I have not yet regained either my ordinary health or power of thinking^, and, consequently, find writing rather heavy work ; but my spirit is moved by these horrible details from Quebec and New York, and I cannot rest without doing something in the matter.^ The letter from which this sentence is quoted, was the lait he ever * According to * Report published by Mr Buchanan, chief emi- grant-agent at Quebec, there arrived at* that port and Montreal, in 1847, op to the 10th of November, 3752 emigrants from Scotland, 32^38 from England, 54^29 from Ireland, and 7697 from Germany ; total, 98406. Of these there died on the passage. . 5,293 Admitted into Grose Isle Quarantine Hospital, 8563, of whom died, 3,452 Died in Quebec up to 9th October, . . . 1,041 Died in Montreal op to 1st November, Total deaths, . 13,365 The subsequent mortality on the inland route is considered to have railed the proportio. of deaths to at least 1 in 5 before the end of the 526 DR COMBE'S ILLNESS. wrote, and nothing could be more characteristic of the man. In this work he was suddenly interrupted by a severe attack of diarrhoea, which seized him at Gorgie Mill, on the 2d of August, and speedily put an end to his useful life. Despairing of recovery, he committed the unfinished MS. to the care of his nephew, Robert Cox, enjoining him to render it as fit for publication as pos- sible, and to place it at the disposal of the editor of The Times. It would have been, he said, a source of much satisfaction to him had he been able to complete it be- fore he died, as he was earnestly desirous to contribute his exertions towards rousing the Government and the public to a perception of the urgent necessity of imme- diately establishing a Board of Health, and adopting such preventive measures as might render impossible a recurrence of such miseries as had lately been en- dured. It seemed as if he felt that his recent oppor- tunity of witnessing the condition of the Irish emi- grants on board the vessel in which he sailed from Liver- pool to New York laid him under a kind of obliga- tion to record his experience for the public benefit and as if the performance of this obligation would have taken a burden off his mind. On examination of the MS., it was found to require but little alteration beyond an improved arrangement of some of the sentences, and the pruning of a few redundancies ; and, notwithstand- ing the absence of the author's own finishing touches, it is not unworthy to constitute his final bequest to his fellow-men. Nearly three columns of The Times of 17th September 1847 are occupied by this earnest ap- peal.* * It was reprinted in the Journal of Public Health, No. V., March 1848. By the Act 12th and 13th Viet., c. 23, which came into ope- ration on 1st October 1849, some of the regulations suggested by Dr Combe are made imperative on the owners of emigrant ships. HIS DEATH AND CHARACTER. 527 The diarrhcea under which Dr Combe suffered, baffled all applications which the skill and experience of Drs Scott and Farqnharson could suggest. By these rained friends he was attended with assiduous care ; but to- wards midnight, on the 9th of August 1847, he tran- quilly expired. The following account of his last days was given by Miss Cox. in a letter dated 10th August, addressed to George Combe at Brussels : " You are too well prepared for the result of oar dear Doctor's illness, to be surprised to hear that he breathed his last yesterday at midnight. I am not very able for writing to-day ; but so long as the scene is fresh in my mind, I am anxious to make up to you and Cecy. as far as in my power, for your absence at such a time. By learning a few particulars, you will become sharers with us in all that has taken place, and in the feelings excited in our minds. Tour absence, and that of my brother James, hare been perhaps the only CMM of regret in Ac etraautamces, not only on my poor uncle's account, but on your own ; because I feel you cannot but regret having had no opportunity of exchanging thoughts and sympathies with him since our return from America.* There has been so very much to alleviate our distress, that the prevailing feeling with us all is great thankfulness. My dear uncle has left the world with as little suffering to himself as could possibly have been the case in such cir- cumstances, and there never was the least jirniw in his mind during the whole week of his illness. Almost from the first, there was more ground for apprehension than in his former illness (in the spring of 1845). On this occasion, a cause of danger was apparent : it was for- midable, and its features were all along different from those of the pre- vious attack. He submitted patiently to all the discomforts and to the increasing weakness of his condition, but at the same time he was alive to every thing that ought to be done to give him a chance of recovery, though he steadily and cheerfully looked on the probability of death being the speedy termination. He said that although nature would still cling to life, it was, in the eye of reason, better for him to die, seeing that his powers had become so much enfeebled. No one was more aware of his diminished energy than himself; he often talked of * Dr Combe's return from America was not expected so early as it took place, and George, in ignorance of its occurrence, had left England on the day when Dr Combe arrived in Liverpool. 528 HIS CHARACTER. it, and said that his death would be no loss, so far as his usefulness was concerned. Yet it is astonishing how much he contrived to do lately for the benefit of others. The very day he was taken ill, he finished a long letter which cost him a great deal of thought, besides writing one to Mr Brown of Liverpool, enquiring about the rules of emigrant ships ; and he had been busy for some time collecting materials for an article he was preparing on ship-fever. "During the past week, his character shone forth as bright and unselfish as ever. He thought much of the welfare of others, men- tioning to me various matters of friendship or business, whenever his weakness allowed him to speak. He gave me many useful hints; but I am aware there are, and must of necessity be, many things about which I omitted to ask his opinion and wishes. He expressed a strong desire that my brother James should edit and revise his works, and adapt them to the knowledge of the day. " Although strong stimulants and much opium were administered to him, he never was stupified, but on the early part of yesterday his mind shewed a tendency to waver ; but even then it was touching to hear him talk with the utmost precision, and with a nice choice of words ; his placid humour, too, occasionally came out, and then his countenance was lighted up with the corresponding expression. " There was not the same clinging to life which he shewed for- merly4hat is to say, he perceived clearly that now there was an in- telligible and adequate cause for death ; and he was perfectly re- signed. His whole being, so to speak, was imbued with the convic- tion of the beneficence and wisdom of God. Last night, when he could scarcely articulate, he said, in answer to our enquiries, 'Happy, happy.' His last hour approached so gradually, so gently, that we could scarcely distinguish when he ceased to live ; and the expression of his face is now, as before, pleasing, as all the little appearance of suffering is gone off. " He said again and again that he had no regrets ; and that if his trip to America had hastened his end, or, as he expressed it, if his life had been the price, he still did not regret what he had done, for it had afforded him great satisfaction. " It is only justice to my brother John and his wife to mention, that throughout all this trying scene their affectionate attention to our dear Doctor has been unwearied and most considerate. He has so often been their inmate, and they knew him so intimately, that they felt towards him as a parent rather than a friend. " Robert and I have done every thing we thought you would ap- prove of," &c. HIS CHARACTER. 529 It may perhaps lend an additional interest to his Letter on Ship-FeTer, to mention, that the noxious in- fluence of the effluvia on board the " Monterama" in all probability hastened his death. The miasma of the crowded hold, penetrating into the cabin, is supposed to hare infected his feeble system giving rise to the almost continual discomfort and languor under which he ever afterwards laboured, and finally occasioning or bringing to a forced maturity the disease which termi- nated his life. The post-mortem examination of his body shewed that the condition of his lungs was not worse than usual, and that his death was to be ascribed solely to disease of the bowels. He was interred in the family burial-ground in the West Churchyard, and the following inscription was added to the tablet which contains the names of his father, mother, and other relatives : ANDREW COMBE, M.D., FELLOW OF THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS, EDINBURGH. BORX 27TH OCTOBER 1797. DIED 9ra AUGUST 1847. The reader is now in a condition to appreciate Dr Combe's remark on himself introduced on page 33, in which he says, " I had an early and great veneration for moral excellence, and after having been cold or sullen in the days of my earliest youth, I have gone to bed and cried for want of moral sympathy, and formed strong resolutions to be for ever after kind and good, no matter how others might treat me/" 2L 530 HIS CHARACTER. Dr Combe was of a tall stature, his height being up- wards of six feet. His person was very slender, and, in his later years, he stooped considerably in consequence of his feeble health. His temperament was nervous- bilious, with a slight infusion of the sanguine. The expression of his voice, countenance, and dark beaming eye, was that of intelligence, goodness, earnestness, and affection. There is a good portrait of Dr Combe in George Combe's possession, painted, in 1836, by Mr Macnee of Glasgow, and which has been engraved for the present work. About 1832, Mr Lawrence Macdonald executed a miniature bust of him, several copies of which are in existence. There is also a daguerreotype likeness of him, taken a few years ago in London. In a will* written with his own hand in 1844, Dr Combe distributed the chief part of his property among his relations, preferring those who seemed to him to stand most in need of his benefaction, and leaving suit- able acknowledgments to such as he felt himself in- debted to for special services. He also made the fol- lowing bequests, which are published for the purpose of letting it be seen what institutions he thought most deserving or requiring his support. " I leave 100 sterling to the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, an emi- nently useful institution ; 50 to the Royal Edinburgh Lunatic Asylum ; 50 to the Destitute Sick Society of * After his will was recorded in Doctors' Commons, a London newspaper published the particulars of his bequests to his relations and private friends ; an act the prospect of which would have greatly annoyed Dr Combe, could he have anticipated it, and which was very unpleasant to his legatees. The information must have been derived from the public register ; but although the law very properly requires executors to record testaments, no sufficient reason can be discovered why the conductors of newspapers also should be at liberty to publish them, at their own discretion, as topics of gossip to persons who are not in any other respect interested in their contents. HIS CHARACTER. 531 Edinburgh; 50 to the Deaf and Dumb Institution; 50 to the Asylum for the Blind ; 50 to the Phreno- logical Society of Edinburgh ; and 20 to the Model Infant School in the YenneL I select these as insti- tutions about the utility of which there can be no doubt, and because they are not so well supported as they ought to be by the public. I ought to add that I make these bequests from no love of ostentation, but from a strong sense of duty. During my life, my health was always so precarious as often to make it doubtful whether I should be able to earn a subsistence or be able to lay up any thing for my support in case of being long incapacitated for practice. I was there- fore obliged to lay out less money for charitable pur- poses than I ought to have done, and the only compen- sation in my power is to bestow for similar purposes that which would have come with a better grace during my life."* It is but justice to Dr Combe to say, that, although his expenditure for charitable purposes was fcss than he desired, yet he was, for many years, a liberal contributor to the funds of benevolent and useful institutions, besides responding with alacrity to all private claims upon his bounty. The amount of personal trouble, also, which he often took on behalf of these whom he thought he could be of service to and this even when he had little strength to spare was such as to excite the admiration of those who were aware of the circumstances. * With all Dr Combe's lore of independence, and uncertainty about die future, his high feelings of honour, and his strict sense of justice, in regard to his pecuniary remuneration as a medical man, never de- serted him. While this 'work was in the press, one of his patients iahamul me, that baring sent him what he considered as only an fajlitB Itmtrmiwm for a pretty long and anxious attendance in the country, nearly one-half of it was returned the whole, as he said, being more than he was entitled to, although the patient's circum- stances by no meanscalkd for any abatement of what was a fair and proper remuneration. 532 HIS CHARACTER. In a Memoir by Mr Robert Cox, reprinted, with additions for private circulation, from the Phrenolo- gical Journal, vol. xx., p. 373, he introduces the fol- lowing remarks on Dr Combe's character, which are in themselves so just, and at the same time so mo- destly stated, that his present biographer (precluded as he is, by relationship and circumstances, from offer- ing any commentaries of his own) considers himself justified in presenting them to the reader : " As a friend, Dr Combe was eminently distinguished by stead- fastness, fidelity, forbearance, gentleness, candour, and discretion. He did not shrink from performing the painful duty of admonition or reproof when the welfare of his friend appeared to him to demand either ; but he so tempered his advice with mildness and genuine be- nevolence, that any momentary irritation which the listener might experience was speedily turned into gratitude and augmented esteem. " We never knew a more quick and penetrating judge of human character than Dr Combe, or one whom it was more difficult to im- pose upon by plausible pretences. Selfishness in the garb of kindness he detected with ease : and among his intimates he used to laugh good-humouredly at the specious veils with which men often attempt to screen their real motives from others, and not seldom succeed in deceiving even themselves. To unpretending worth, on the other hand, he was equally clear-sighted, and ever disposed to extend his hearty encouragement and support. " During his whole life he was a model of temperance in every re- spect, having constitutionally a repugnance to all kinds of excess and vicious indulgence. From infancy he displayed an unaccountable antipathy to eggs, butter, and cheese, which articles he never could bring himself to eat. Till above the age of thirty, he had a similar dislike to strawberries. Milk, however, he was always very fond of; and he attributed some portion of the infirmity of his constitution to the very limited extent of the supply of it which had been afforded him in boyhood, in consequence of a prejudice which his mother had imbibed against it, perhaps from finding it unsuitable to her own sto- mach. "When visiting, in his early years, an uncle who had a farm a few miles from town, he used to relish extremely the copious draughts of milk with which he was there regaled. " With all the habitual gentleness and unobtrusiveness of his cha- racter, Dr Combe possessed a bold, manly, and independent spirit, HIS CHARACTER. 533 which, although never degenerating into rashness or presumption, both prompted and enabled him to resist encroachments on his right*, and to display a dignified firmness of speech on occasions when the mean, malevolent, or supercilious behaviour of others demanded or authorised the expression of his feelings. Disagreeable duties of this sort were performed with a degree of moral courage that is rarely found in conjunction with so much kindliness and delicacy of feeling as he possessed, so hearty a dislike to wound needlessly the feelings of others, and so liberal an indulgence for the frailties of human nature : for to him, if to any man, may be justly applied what has been affirmed of the members of his profession generally That ' the medical ob- server, viewing the errors of mankind without passion, and knowing how many are inherited, how many are inherent in organization, how many the result of unhappy circumstances, becomes a lenient judge of his fellow-creatures, and above all things characterised by his humanity.'* " In pecuniary matters, Dr Combe followed the golden rule of adapt- ing his expenses to his means, so as never to run into debt, or incur the risk of forfeiting his independence. However limited his resources might be, he always contrived to secure, by means of them, the com- forts and solid enjoyments of life ; and in proportion as they increased he enlarged his expenditure, but never at the dictates of mere osten- tation. " He was fond of harmless mirth, and possessed no inconsiderable talent for humour. In the domestic circle this quality displayed it- self in streams of good-natured jocularity, and in his familiar corre- spondence the effusions of his wit were frequent and effective. He was fond of children : and some who read these pages will remember the heartiness with which, in their early youth, they used to shout with merriment at the ' funny faces' he made for their amusement ; and the storms of glee that arose when, feigning unconsciousness, he allowed a regiment of his little friends to carry him in procession through the room, on the floor of which they would deposit their som- nolent burden, celebrating their achievement by dancing and shout- ing around it. " To musical talent he had no pretensions, nor was the quality of his voice such as ever to induce him, in our hearing, to attempt the utterance of a note. But he derived much enjoyment from such 4 sweet sounds' as are expressive of tender, plaintive, or sprightly emotions. With respect to the fine arts generally, a similar state- ment may be made. Destitute of skill in drawing, and apparently * British and Foreign Medical Review, vol. v., p. 413. 534 HIS CHARACTER. without the least inclination to handle the pencil, he yet was a dis- criminating admirer of eminent productions in painting and sculpture, and took an interest in the philosophy of art. He also appreciated highly the legitimate drama, when fitly represented on the stage. " Beyond the simple rules of arithmetic, he received but little if any instruction in the mathematical sciences ; and, in mature life, his taste for them was not so strong as to induce him to devote any por- tion of his leisure to their study. Of their high dignity and import- ance as branches of human knowledge, he, however, entertained an adequate opinion. " The sciences in which he took the deepest interest were those where the relation of cause and eifect is most amply displayed, and which have the directest bearing upon human welfare. Such are physiology, mental philosophy, chemistry, physics, and political eco- nomy. To him the attraction of these sciences was not a little in- creased by the impressive manner in which they exhibit the power, goodness, and wisdom of the Deity. Towards those departments of enquiry, which (in the words of Bacon) are ' only strong for disputa- tions and contentions, but barren of the production of works for the benefit of the life of man,' he seems never to have experienced the slightest inclination. " As a writer, Dr Combe is remarkable for the skill with which he arranges his materials so as to open up his subject in the most natural and intelligible way to the reader's apprehension. As observed by himself in one of his critical papers, ' the subject of a work and its mode of treatment being determined, nothing tends more to clearness of exposition than simplicity of arrangement ; for in books, as well as in speeches, it is a point of excellence to have a beginning, a middle, and an end ; or, in other words, that things should follow each other in their natural order, and not be scattered about or unnecessarily in- termixed. In this respect, professional treatises in general cannot lay claim to much merit.'* And elsewhere he advises the author of a work he is reviewing, ' so far to improve his arrangement in future editions, as to collect into one focus everything bearing upon the pre- vention and cure of the disease treated of, and leave nothing to be sought for by the reader from the other chapters. It is better that a useful truth should be even thrice repeated, than that it should not be found in the place where it is most wanted.' f In these passages, Dr Combe recommends to others the principles which he himself has practised with admirable success ; and the style which he has employ - * British and Foreign Medical Review, vol. vii., p. 117. f Id., vol. i., p. 83. HIS CHARACTER. 535 ed in his expositions is not less worthy of admiration for its clearness, simplicity, precision, conciseness, and vigour. " His talent for languages was not so great as to make him love their study for its own sake. He could speak fluently French and Italian, and latterly acquired sufficient knowledge of German to be able to understand didactic works in that language without much dif- ficulty. He was fond of the English classics, among whom our great Dramatist held the highest place in his estimation. In re-perusing the plays of Shakspeare, he constantly saw fresh reason for admira- tion of the profound knowledge of human nature, and wonderful power of terse and accurate description, which they display." The following beautiful delineation of Dr Combe's character originally appeared in the Scotsman of 21st August 1847 : " The decease of Dr Combe will have taken no one who knew him by surprise, for he was for many years in that condition which makes life a greater miracle than death ; but it will not on this account be the less deplored, either as causing a blank in the circle of private friendship, or as the signification of a public loss. Dr Combe be- longed to that rare class of physicians who present professional know- ledge in connection with the powers of a philosophical intellect, and yet, in practical matters, appear constantly under the guidance of a rich natural sagacity. All of his works are marked by a peculiar earnest- ness, lucidity, and simplicity, characteristic of the author ; they pre- sent hygienic principles with a clearness for which we know no parallel in medical literature. To this must be ascribed much of the extra- ordinary success they have met with, and, on this quality undoubtedly, rests no small portion of their universally acknowledged utility. Those, however, who look below the surface will not fail to trace a deep philosophical spirit as pervading these works, something arising from a perfect apprehension of, and a perfect allegiance to, the natu- ral rule of God in our being. It has been a guidance we would almost say an inspiration, of the author, without ever carrying him for a moment where ordinary readers could not follow him. Here, we think, is the true though latent strength of Dr Combe's popular writings, and that which will probably give them a long-enduring pre-eminence in their particular department. We always feel, in reading them, that we are listening to one of those whom Nature has appointed to expound and declare her mysteries for the edification of her multitudinous family. In his own section of her priesthood, 536 HIS CHAKACTEU. certainly few have stood in his grade, fewer still become his su- periors. " The personal character and private life of Dr Combe formed a beautiful and harmonious commentary upon his writings. In the bosom of his family and the limited social circle to which his weakly health confined him, he was the same benignant and gentle being whom the world finds addressing it in these compositions. The same clear sagacious intelligence, the same entire right-mindedness, shone in his conversation. An answer to any query put to him, whether respecting professional or miscellaneous matters, was precisely like a passage of one of his books, earnest, direct, and conclusive. What- ever, moreover, he called upon others to do or to avoid, that he did, and that he avoided, in his own course of life ; for doctrine with him was not something to be treated as external to himself, but as the ex- pression of a system of Divine appointment, of which he was a part. To his rigid though unostentatious adherence to the natural laws which he explained, it was owing that he sustained himself for many years in a certain measure of health and exemption from suffering, while labouring under the pulmonary disease which so often threat- ened to cut short his career. On this point, there is the more reason to speak emphatically, when we reflect that the years thus redeemed from the grave, were employed in that which will yet save many from premature death ; as if it had been his aim to shew the value of even the smallest remains of life and strength, and thus advance one of the principles dearest to humanity. It was not, however, in any of these respects that the character of Dr Combe made its best impression, but in his perfect geniality and simplicity, and the untiring energy of his practical benevolence. Here resided the true charm of his nature, and that which made him the beloved of all who knew him. No ir- ritability attended his infirm health ; no jealousy did he feel regard- ing those whom superior strength enabled to outstrip him in the pro- fessional race. Kindly and cordial to all, he did not seem to feel as if he could have an enemy and therefore, we believe, he never had one. It might almost have been said that he was too gentle and un- obtrusive and so his friends, perhaps, would have thought him, had it not, on the other hand, appeared as the most befitting character of one who, they all knew, was not to be long spared to them, and on whom the hues of a brighter aud more angelic being seemed already to be shed." The article here quoted, is reprinted in the conclu- ding number of The British and Foreign Medical Re- HIS CHARACTER. 537 view* where Dr Forbes, in introducing it, pays the tribute of friendship in the following terms : ' We are indebted to the columns of that very superior newspaper, The Scotsman, for the following excellent account of an excellent man if ever such there was. We have reason to believe that it is from the pen of a celebrated writer, as well as a kindred spirit, who knew the deceased long and well Mr Robert Chambers.f In all that is therein said in commendation of the character of Dr Combe, we so entirely concur and we speak from long personal intercourse that if we could wish any of the expressions altered, it would be only that they might be made still stronger and more emphatic. Never, we will venture to say, did the ranks of Physic lose a more estimable member; and rarely very rarely has the grave closed over a gentler, truer, wiser, or better man. His loss to his friends is a loss that can never be supplied ; his loss to the community is one of the greatest it could sustain in losing an individual. But he has fulfilled his mission, and done his work as far as was permitted. May they who are left to lament him, strive, as far as in them lies, to emulate his bright example !" * See a list of Dr Combe's Contributions to this Review in the Appendix, Xo. IV., p. 560. f Only the two paragraphs descriptive of Dr Com lie's character, and which are extracted above, were written by Mr Chambers. 538 REPORT OF POST-MOKTEM EXAMINATION, CHAPTER XXX. REPORT OF THE POST-MORTEJI EXAMINATION, BY DR JOHN SCOTT. REPORT OF THE EXAMINATION OF THE SKULL AND BRAIN, BY DR HANDYSIDE. REMARKS ON THE PREPARED SKULL, BY DR JAMES COX. ESTIMATE OF THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE BRAIN OF DR COMBE. PHRENOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS BY GEORGE COMBE. REPORT BY DR JOHN SCOTT. THE skull was remarkably thin and regular in its walls; the internal surface more deeply marked by the bloodvessels than usual; the brain exceedingly healthy. The thorax was much contracted on the left side, especially on the superior part, measuring fully two inches less than the right, and being flattened and de- pressed under the clavicle and the first two ribs. On removing the sternum, the right lung was found very large, passing to the left side of the sternum and filling a space in the left side of nearly two inches in breadth, and three in length. The right lung itself was adhe- rent to the pleura costalis by scattered and firm adhe- sions. The lower surface was more especially attached to the diaphragm by very close adhesions. The lung in its texture was in some places, especially towards the lower part, congested, but everywhere pervious to air, and without any tubercles. The bronchial tubes were firmer and larger than natural. BY DR JOHN SCOTT. 539 The left lung was contracted to a very small size, and adherent by very thick and strong false membranes, especially in the summit, to the ribs ; the adhesions were so strong that the lung was with difficulty re- moved. The summit was particularly indurated and infiltrated with black matter, but without any change in its structure. It also contained many large and small caverns. The lung was without any tubercle or creta- ceous matter. The surface was black, and this colour was found to pervade the pulmonary texture generally ; the cellular appearance was, however, still visible. The up- per lobe was dense in structure and hollowed out into numerous caverns opening into each other in some in- stances, in others single and of smaller size. These extended from the summit of the lung, and chiefly oc- cupied the anterior part, and opposite the first and se- cond rib. The bronchial tubes, some of a large size, opened directly into the caverns and were continuous with them. The longitudinal fibres in the larger bron- chial tubes were particularly strong, and the circular ones in the smaller. The caverns themselves were re- markably regular in shape, especially when single, and were lined by a fine, smooth, thin membrane. The opening of both small and large bronchial tubes was easily perceived in them ; they were more generally dilatations of the extreme terminations, than merely dilatations of the large bronchiae. There was no em- physema. The lower lobe was fleshy, pretty firm, but retained more of the natural appearance than the upper. The heart was large, but not diseased. The kidneys seemed natural in structure, but were filled with a greyish- coloured thick fluid. The colon and rectum were thick- ened throughout, and covered with minute ulcera- tions, some very small, and others of considerable size. 540 REPORT BY DR HANDYSIDE. The muscular and mucous coat of the rectum was thickened.* REPORT BY DR P. D. HANUYSIDE, F.B.S.E. A. THE CRANIUM. I. Texture thin, the tables hav- ing closely coalesced; excepting, 1st, at the frontal sinuses, which are large and well developed ; and, 2dly, on both sides of the longitudinal sinus, where the inner table of the cranium is opened up in texture over a greater extent than is usual. II. Regularity and Symmetry remarkable, excepting that, 1st, on the left side of the vertex, the cranium is quite diaphanous ; 2dly, the area of the cranium to the left of the mesial line is greater than on the right side ; and, 3dty, the internal occipital protuberance and the crucial and lateral grooves on the two sides, are un- equal in form and bulk. B. THE ENCEPHALON. I. General Form a regular ovate ; 1st, the longitudinal and oblique fissures are very deep, including a greater number of secondary fis- sures in the latter than is usual : depth of longitudinal fissure at splenium of corpus callosum, 2\ inches ; depth at genu of corpus callosum, 1^ inch ; 2dly, the sulci (anfractuosities) deeper than usual ; greatest depth in left hemisphere, f inch ; depth in right hemisphere, | inch ; 3dly, the lobes and lobules, and other anatomi- cal features of the encephalou, very strongly marked. II. Proposition. 1st, the left side of the eucephalon the greater ; 2dly, the corresponding gyri (convolu- * The examination was made about thirteen hours after death. A cast of the head was previously taken, and afterwards a cast of the brain. The remains of the deceased, with the exception of the cra- nium and its contents, were interred in the family burial-ground in St Cuthbert's churchyard, immediately behind the manse. REMARKS OX THE PREPARED SKULL OF DR COMBE, oil tions) of the opposite sides approach more to symmetry then usual. III. Bulk. Greatest Length, 7 inches. Greatest Breadth, .5^ inches. Greatest depth, vertically to base of interior lobe, 4 inches vertically to base of cere- bellum. 4 inches. IV. Weight (including pia mater ), 57 oz. avoirdu- pois, [being about 7 oz. above the average; in Dr Chalmers 53 oz., Dr Abercrombie and Baron Cuvier, each 63 oz., and Baron Dupnytren, 64 oz.] V. Structure, perfectly normal, including the mem- branes and vessels. The cineritious matter is about a third narrower than usual, and devoid of the internal translucent pearly laminae frequently observed. The encephalon in general is remarkable for its firmness of texture. REMARKS OK THE PREPARED SKC1.L, BY DR JAMES COX. The dry skull, on careful examination, presents the following characters : The texture of the bone is re- markably firm and dense, and the plates of the skull are generally in close approximation. The sutures have, for the most part, been obliterated, and in this respect, as well as in the density of texture, the skull resembles that of a much older person. A transverse section in the plain, about a quarter of an inch above the super-orbital ridges, shews the walls to be re- markably thin, except in the frontal region, where they have acquired a thickness more than double that of the parietal and occipital bones. This increased thick- ness extends throughout the frontal bones, but is greatest over the frontal tuberosities, and is owing to an apparently abnormal deposit of osseous matter be- tween the plates of skull, probably consequent on the shrinking of the brain. The coronal region of the pa- 542 DIMENSIONS OF THE SKULL OF DR COMBE. rietal bones, likewise, presents an increased thickness, but not to an extent that would have attracted atten- tion but for the decided thickening of the frontal bones. Tt is sufficient, however, completely to remove the dia- phaneity remarked by Dr Handyside in the fresh state. The internal surface of the skull is deeply marked by the bloodvessels ; and along the course of the longitu- dinal sinus, a considerable deposit of amorphous osseous matter has taken place, extending about half an inch on each side, and presenting an appearance which, in the fresh state, might readily have been mistaken for an opening up of the texture. This deposit likewise ap- pears, but in diminished quantities, along the course of the transverse sinuses. An abnormal deposition of osseous matter thus seems to have been going on throughout the skull, as evidenced by the density of the texture, the obliteration of the sutures, the partial thickening of the walls, and the amorphous deposit on the internal surface. DIMENSIONS OF THE SKULL. Tape Measurements. Inches. Greatest circumference, . . . . . 21 From occipital spine to top of nasal bone, over the vertex, 13J ear to ear over the vertex, . . . 12f Calliper Measurements. From Philoprogenitiveness to Individuality, , . 7| Concentrativeness to Comparison, . . 7 Ear to Philoprogenitiveness, . . . 4.1 Individuality, .... 4^ Benevolence, . . '.' . gi Firmness, . , ^ . 51 Destructiveness to Destructiveness, . v ... 5 Secretiveness to Secretiveness, . ,* . , 53. Cautiousness to Cautiousness, . ' , : ' . 50. Ideality to Ideality, . ' ' '.' . '.' 4| Constructiveness to Constructiveness, <. > . 41 Mastoid process to mastoid process, . . 4 DEVELOPMENT OP DR COMBE'S BRAIN. 543 ESTIMATE OF THE DEVELOPMENT OP THE BRAIN OF DR COMBE. The terms indicating size, increase, imaU, moderate, rather full, full, rather large, large. THE REGIONS OF THE BRAIN COMPARED WITH EACH OTHER. The basilar region, rather large; the coronal region, large; the an- terior lobe, or region of the intellect, large. THE ORGANS OF THE PROPENSITIES COMMON TO MAN AND ANIMALS, COMPARED WITH EACH OTHER. 1. Araativeuess, rather large. 2. Philoprogenitiveness, large. 3. Concentrativeness, rather large. a. Inhabitiveness, rather large. 4. Adhesiveness, large. 5. Combativeness, large. 6. Destructiveness,/tt//. Alimentiveness, moderate. The Love of Life, rather large. 7. Secretiveness, rather large. 8. Acquisitiveness, full. 9. Constructiveness, full. 10. Self-Esteem, rather large. 11. Love of Approbation, large. 12. Cautiousness, large. THE ORGANS OF THE MORAL SENTIMENTS COMPARED WITH EACH OTHER. 13. Benevolence, large. 14. Veneration, large. 15. Firmness, large. 16. Conscientiousness, rather large. 17. Hope, large. 18. Wonder, rather large on right side ; full on left. 19. Ideality, full. ? Unascertained, in front of Cautiousness, rather large. 20. Wit, or Mirthfulness, rather large. 21. Imitation, large on right side; full on left. THE ORGANS OF THE INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES COMPARED WITH EACH OTHER. 22. Individuality, rather full. 23. Form, rather large. 24. Size, rather large. 25. Weight,/M. 26. Colouring, full. 27. Locality, rather large. 28. Number, full. 29. Order, rather large. 30. Eventuality, rather full. 31. Time, rather full. 32. Tune,/. 33. Language, rather full. 34. Comparison, large. 35. Causality, large. 544 PHRENOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS BY GEORGE COMBE. PHRENOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS BY GEORGE COMBE. The phrenologist will experience little difficulty in tracing the connection between the talents and dispo- sitions of Dr Combe, and the development of his brain. The size (above an average) corresponds to his gene- ral force of character, while the nervous-bilious and slightly sanguine temperament, was the fountain of his mental activity. If, as is thought probable by many physiologists, the extent of surface of the brain be im- portant, the unusual depth of the fissures and sulci in Dr Combe's brain may have increased both the activity and power of his mind. The firmness of its texture, probably, had a similar effect. The general equability in the development of the dif- ferent cerebral organs, gave rise to that soundness of judgment* which characterised his life. The large development of the moral and intellectual organs corresponded with his habitual love of virtue, and his deep interest in human welfare. In this re- spect his brain was anomalous ; for in it the convolu- tions forming the organs of the moral sentiments were rounder aud larger, more plump and fully-developed, than the convolutions constituting the organs of the animal propensities the reverse of the ordinary rule. The middle fossse in which the organs of Alimen- tiveness and Destructiveness are situated are smaller than usual, in proportion to the dimensions of the oc- cipital fossse and the super-orbitar plate, and the ex- ternal opening of the ear is high. This structure indi- cates a very moderate development of these two organs, and corresponds to his constitutional and habitual tem- perance, and his extreme dislike to war, and even to being- present at surgical operations, mentioned by himself on * See System of Phrenology, by Gr. Combe, vol. ii., p. 234. PHRENOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS BY GEOKGE COMBE. 545 page 39. The organ of the Love of Life (stated in the phrenological works as only probable), lies in the inner portions of these fossae, and in Dr Combe's brain was more largely developed than the organs of Alimentive- ness and Destmctiveness; and his correspondence shews, that although always prepared to die, he had a strong love of life. See page 405. The large development of Combativeness, Self-Esteem, and Firmness, gave him courage to face both moral and physical danger and difficulties, and prevented his dis- position from being rendered too soft for active life by the smaller development of Destmctiveness ; which would have been the result, had either Combativeness or Firmness been deficient. The large development of the organs of the domestic affections Amatiyeness, Philoprogeuitiveness, and Ad- hesiveness enables the phrenologist to appreciate the extent of the sacrifice which he must have made in ab- staining, on account of his infirm health, from marriage, as mentioned by himself on page 402. The large development of the organs of Veneration, Hope, and Wonder, produced the strong religious emo- tions which pervaded his whole being ; while the addi- tion of large Benevolence and Conscientiousness, aided by his powerful intellect, laid the foundation of his sound and acute moral perceptions. His pursuit of the beneficent, in preference to the ornamental, corresponds with the preponderance of the moral, religious, and reflecting organs, over those of Ideality, Individuality, Colouring, Time, and Tune; while these latter organs were still sufficiently developed to give him a love of the beautiful and refined, although unable artistically to produce them. The large development of the anterior lobe corre- sponds with his vigorous intellectual manifestations ; 2 M 546 PHRENOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS BY GEORGE COMBE. while the peculiar character of his intellect is in strik- ing accordance with the preponderance of the organs of Concentrativeness, Causality, and Comparison, over those of Individuality and Eventuality. When he in- troduces details, it is with a view to their application to establish or illustrate some important proposition related to causation, duty, or interest, and rarely for the sake of their intrinsic value or beauty. The facts of the abnormal thickening of some por- tions of the skull, of the cineritious matter of the con- volutions being found " about a third narrower than usual," and Dr Combe's frequent remarks in his later years on the decay of his mental powers, may be noticed as coincidences, the value of which will depend on the occurrence of similar appearances in other cases, in which mental vigour has decayed.* The plump appearance of the brain contrasted strong- ly with the emaciation of the body at large, and afforded a striking illustration of the slowness with which the nervous system is consumed under the action of causes which quickly reduce the bulk of the fat, the blood, and the muscles.f This physiological fact is interesting and remarkable : " had the brain been as liable to absorp- tion as the other tissues of the body, one day's absti- nence would have been followed by fatuity." J * The frontal sinus extends over the organs of Individuality, Size, and Locality, but the dimensions of all the organs are estimated from observations made on both the brain and the skull. f Chossat found that, on an average, a warm-blooded animal loses about two-fifths of its weight before it dies of hunger ; and he cal- culated that, while the fat lost 0'933 of its total amount, the blood lost 0750, the muscular system 0'423, the organs of respiration 0'222, the bones - 167, and the brain and spinal cord only 0'019, of their original substance, which he estimated from the weight of the same organs in healthy animals that had been purposely killed. See his Recherches Experimentales sur Vlnanition, p. 92. Paris, 1843. J Dr Combe on Digestion, 9th edition, edited by Dr James Cox, p. 86. APPENDIX. THE PHRENOLOGICAL BUST. APPENDIX. No. I. Referred to on p. 2. BRIEF OUTL1XE OF THE PHRENOLOGICAL FACULTIES, WITH THEIR USES AXD ABUSES. Order I. FEELIXGS. Genus I. PROPENSITIES Common to Man teM the Lower Animal*. THE LOVE OF LIFE. The organ lies before and a little below Destructiveness. Its situation is not indicated by a number on the bust. Uses: It gives the love of life, and instinct of self-preservation. Combined with Hope, it desires to live for ever. Abuses : Excessive love of life. When it is very largely developed and combined with Cautiousness large, it gives an anxious dread of death. 1. AMATIVEXESS. Uses: It produces love between the sexes : Mar- riage springs from Amativeness, Philoprogenitiveness, and Adhesiveness, acting in combination. Abuses: Promiscuous intercourse with the opposite sex ; seduction ; marriage with near relations ; marriage while labouring under any general debility or serious disease ; marriage without possessing the means of maintaining and educating a family. 2. PHILOPROGEXITIVEXESS. Uses: Affection for young and tender beings. Abuses : Pampering and spoiling children. 3. COXCEXTRATIVEXESS. Uses : It concentrates and renders perma- nent emotions and ideas in the mind. Abuses : Morbid dwell- ing on internal emotions and ideas, to the neglect of external impressions. 3 a. IXHABITITEXESS. Uses : It produces the desire of permanence in place. Abuses : Aversion to move abroad. 4. AJDHESITE>-ESS. Uses: Attachment: friendship and society result from it. Abuses: Clanship for improper objects, attachment to worthless individuals. It is generally strong in women. 550 APPENDIX, NO. I. 5. COMBATIVENESS. Uses : Courage to meet danger and overcome difficulties ; tendency to defend, to oppose and attack, and to resist unjust encroachments. Abuses : Love of contention, and tendency to provoke and assault. This feeling obviously adapts man to a world in which danger and difficulty abound. 6. DESTRUCTIVENESS. Uses : Desire to destroy noxious objects, ani- mate and inanimate, and to use for food animals in which life has been destroyed. Abuses : Cruelty, murder, desire to tor- ment, tendency to passion, rage, and harshness and severity in speech and writing. This feeling places man in harmony with death and destruction, which are woven into the system of sub- lunary creation. 6. a. APPETITE FOR FOOD. Uses: Nutrition. Abuses: Gluttony and drunkenness. 7. SECRETIVENESS. Uses : Tendency to restrain within the mind the various emotions and ideas that involuntarily present them- selves, until the judgment has approved of giving them utter- ance ; it is simply the propensity to conceal, and is an ingre- dient in prudence. Abuses : Cunning, deceit, duplicity, and lying- 8. ACQUISITIVENESS. Uses : Desire to possess, and tendency to ac- cumulate ; the sense of property springs from it. Abuses : In- ordinate desire of property, selfishness, avarice, theft. 9. CONSTRUCTIVENESS. Uses : Desire to build and construct works of art. Abuses : Construction of engines to injure or destroy, and fabrication of objects to deceive mankind. Genus II. SENTIMENTS. 1. Sentiments common to Man with some of the Lower Animals. 10. SELF-ESTEEM. Uses: Self-respect, self-interest, love of indepen- dence, personal dignity. Abuses : Pride, disdain, overweening conceit, excessive selfishness, love of dominion. 11. LOVE OF APPROBATION. Uses: Desire of the esteem of others, love of praise, desire of fame or glory. Abuses : Vanity, am- bition, thirst for praise independently of praise worthiness. 12. CAUTIOUSNESS. Uses : It gives origin to the sentiment of fear, the desire to shun danger, and circumspection ; and it is an ingredient in prudence. The sense of security springs from its gratification. Abuses: Excessive timidity, poltroonery, un- founded apprehensions, despondency, melancholy. 13. BENEVOLENCE. Uses: Desire of the happiness of others, com- APPENDIX, SO. I. 551 passion for the distressed, universal charity, mildness of disposi- tion, and a lively sympathy with the enjoyment of all animated beings. Abuses : Profusion, injurious indulgence of the appe- tites and fancies of others, prodigality, facility of temper. 2. Stttlimenti proper to J/a*. 14. VEN~EEATIOX. U&s : Tendency to venerate or respect whatever is great and good ; it gives origin to religions emotion. Abtifff : Senseless respect for unworthy objects consecrated by time or situation, love of antiquated customs, abject subser- viency to persons in authority, superstitious awe. To these Mr Scott adds, " undue deference to the opinions and reason- ings of men who are fallible like ourselves ; the worship of false gods, polytheism, paganism, idolatry/' 15. PiRitszss. Uses: Determination, perseverance, steadiness of pur- pose. Abuses : Stubbornness, infatuation, tenacity in evil. 16. CosscrExnorsxEss. Uses: It gives origin to the sentiment of justice, a respect for rights, openness to conviction, the love of truth. Abuses: Scrupulous adherence to noxious principles when ignorantly embraced, excessive refinement in the views of duty and obligation, excess in remorse or self-condemnation. 17. HOPE. Uses : Tendency to expect future good ; it cherishes faith. Abuses : Credulity with respect to the attainment of what is desired, absurd expectations of felicity not founded on reason. 18. WOXDEK. Uses : The desire of novelty ; admiration of the new, the unexpected, the grand, the wonderful, and extraordinary. Abuses : Love of the marvellous and occult ; senseless astonish- ment ; belief in false miracles, in prodigies, magic, ghosts, and other supernatural absurdities. 3*ofe. Veneration, Hope, and Wonder, combined, give origin to religion ; their abuses pro- duce superstition. 19. LDKAIJTT. Uses : Love of the beautiful, desire of excellence, poetic feeling. Abuses : Extravagant and absurd enthusiasm, preference of the showy and glaring to the solid and useful, a tendency to dwell in the regions of fancy and to neglect the duties of life. 19 a. Unascertained, supposed to be connected with the sentiment of the Sublime. 20. Wrr Gives the feeling of the ludicrous, and disposes to mirth. 21. IJUTATIOX Copies the manners, gestures, and actions of others, and appearances in nature generally. 552 APPENDIX, NO. I. Order II. INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. Genus I. EXTERNAL SENSES. FEELING or TOUCH. TASTE. SMELL. HEARING. SIGHT. Uses : To bring man into communication with external objects, and to enable him to enjoy them. Abuses : Exces- sive indulgence in the pleasures arising from the senses, to the extent of im- pairing bodily health, and debilitating or deteriorating the mind. Genus II. KNOWING FACULTIES WHICH PERCEIVE THE EXIST- ENCE AND QUALITIES OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS. 22. INDIVIDUALITY Takes cognizance of existence and simple facts. 23. FORM Renders man observant of form. 24. SIZE Gives the idea of space, and enables us to appreciate di- mension and distance. 25. WEIGHT Communicates the perception of momentum, weight, and resistance ; and aids equilibrium. 26. COLOURING Grives perception of colours, their harmonies and discords. Genus III. KNOWING FACULTIES WHICH PERCEIVE THE RELATIONS OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS. 27. LOCALITY Grives the idea of relative position. 28. NUMBER Gives the talent for calculation. 29. ORDER Communicates the love of physical arrangement. 30. EVENTUALITY Takes cognizance of occurrences or events. 31. TIME Grives rise to the perception of duration. 32. TUNE. The sense of Melody and Harmony arises from it. 33. LANGUAGE Gives facility in acquiring a knowledge of arbi- trary signs to express thoughts, readiness in the use of them, and the power of inventing and recollecting them. Genus IV. REFLECTING FACULTIES, WHICH COMPARE, JUDGE, AND DISCRIMINATE. 34. COMPARISON Gives the power of discovering analogies, resem- blances, and differences. 35. CAUSALITY Traces the dependences of phenomena, and the re- lation of cause and effect. APPENDIX, NO. II. 553 No. II. Referred to on p. 130. LIST OF DE COMBE'S CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE PHRENOLOGICAL JOURNAL (SOME OF WHICH WERE REPRINTED IN A VOLUME OF SELECTIONS PUBLISHED IN 1836). VOL. I. 1823-4. 1. Bell oil the Functions of the Nerves. No. 1, p. 58. 2. On the alleged Claim of Reil to Dr Gall's Discoveries in the Anatomy of the Brain. No. 1, p. 72. 3. Practical Application of Phrenology on a Voyage. No. 2, p. 259 ; and Selections, p. 33. 4. Essay on the Question, " Does Phrenology afford a satisfactory explanation of the Moral and Intellectual Faculties of Man ?" Read to the Medical Society of Edinburgh, Nov. 21, 1823. No. 3, p. 1 ; and Selections, p. 317. This Essay occasioned a very long and animated debate in the Medical Society on 21st and 25th November, and led to some curious legal and other proceedings, narrated in No. 2, p. 307 ; and in the present work, p. 130. 5. Flourens on the Nervous System. No. 3, p. 455. 6. Case of a Mechanical Genius. No 4, p. 509 ; and Selections, p. 276. 7. Observations on Secretiveness. No. 4, p. 611. VOL. II. 1824-5. 8. Dr Prichard and Phrenology. No. 5, p. 47. 9. Observations on the Functions of the Nerves. Spinal Marrow, and Brain. No. 6, p. 206. VOL. III. 1825-6. 10. On the Seat and Nature of Hypochondriasis, as illustrated by Phrenology. No. 9, p. 51 ; and Selections, p. 244. This is a translation (perhaps enlarged) of the author's Graduation Thesis. 11. On the Talent for recollecting Names. No. 9, p. 120. 12. Tune involuntarily active, with Pain in the Organ. No. 11, p. 362. 13. Insanity and Crimes Cases of Lecouffe, Feldtraann, and Jean Pierre. No. 11, p. 365. 14. Case of Hypochondriasis. No. 11, p. 467. 15. On Education The Hamiltonian System. No. 12, p. 609. 554 APPENDIX, NO. II. VOL. IV. 1826-7. 16. Review of Spurzheim's " Anatomy of the Brain." No. 13, p. 83. 17. Letter on Size as a Measure of Power. No. 13, p. 100. 18. Speeches at Dinner of the Phrenological Society. No. 13, pp. 136 and 150. 19. On the Influence of Organic Size on Energy of Function, par- ticularly as applied to the Organs of the External Senses and Brain. No. 14, p. 161. 20. Influence of Education on the Direction of the Sentiments. No. 15, p. 430. 21. Review of Dr Thomas on the Physiology of the Temperaments. No. 15, p. 438 ; and Selections, p. 125. 22. Review of Voisin on the Causes and Cure of Stammering. No. 15, p. 458 ; and Selections, p. 143. 23. Humorous " Letter to the Editor," on the Mental Faculties and their Organs. No. 16, p. 591. 24. Additional Remarks on Dr Thomas's Theory of the Tempera- men ts. No. 16, p. 604 ; and Selections, p. 205. 25. On the Functions of the Sense of Sight, considered chiefly in its relations to Ideas of Form, Colour, Magnitude, and Distance. No. 16, p. 608. VOL. V. 1828-9. 26. Speech at Dinner given by the Phrenological Society to Dr Spurzheim. No. 17, p. 118. 27. Phrenological Notice of Mr Wardrope's Case of Restoration to Sight in a Lady of 46 Years of Age. No. 18, p. 286. 28. Address from the President's Chair at a Meeting of the Phre- nological Society, Nov. 13, 1828. No. 19, p. 475. 29. Observations on Mental Derangement, and some of its Causes. No. 20, p. 483. VOL. VI. 1829-30. 30. On the Exciting or Occasional Causes of Mental Derangement. No. 21, p. 38. 31. On Mental Exercise as a Means of Health. No. 21, p. 109. 32. Review of Professor Uccelli's " Compendio di Anatomia-Fisio- logica-Comparata." No. 22, p. 201. 33. On the Exciting or Occasional Causes of Mental Derangement (continued). No. 23, p. 258. The substance of Nos. 29, 30, and 33 was afterwards embo- died in Dr Combe's work on Mental Derangement. APPENDIX, NO. II. 555 34. Notice of Blumenbach's " Decades Collections sua? Craniorum Diversarum Grentium." Xo. 23, p. 278. 35. On the Laws of Mental Exercise and Health. No. 23, p. 283. 36. Phrenology in London Mr Deville's Museum The Deaf and Dumb. Xo. 26, p. 569. 37. Review of Macnish's " Philosophy of Sleep." No. 26, p. 576. VOL. VII. 1831-2. 38. Review of Dr Abercrombie's " Inquiries concerning the Intel- lectual Powers." No. 27, p. 46. 39. Notice of Woodbridge's "American Annals of Education," No. I. No. 28, p. 165. 40. Notice of the American " Chronicle of the Times." No. 29, p. 269. 41. Notice of " American Annals of Education," No. II. No. 29, p. 273. VOL. VIII. 1832-4. 42. On the Nature and Uses of the Skin, as connected with the Preservation of Health. No. 34, p. 1. 43. Notice of Dr Barlow's Article on Physical Education in the " Cyclopaedia of Practical Medicine." No. 34, p. 37. 44. On the Structure and Functions of the Muscular System, viewed in relation to the Principles of Exercise. No. 35, p. 164. The substance of Nos. 31, 35, 42, and 44 was afterwards em- bodied in Dr Combe's " Physiology applied to Health and Education." 45. On the Factories' Regulation Bill. No. 36, p. 231. 46. Dr Spurzheim, the Marquis Moscati, and the London Phreno- logical Society. No. 36, p. 237. 47. Review of Dr Caldwell's " Essay on Temperament." No. 37, p. 367. 48. Notice of Dr Caldwell's " Thoughts on the Pathology, Pre- vention, and Treatment of Intemperance, as a Form of Mental De- rangement." No. 40, p. 624-7. 49. Injuries of the Brain not always attended by manifest Disor- ders of Mind : Analogy between such Injuries and those of other Or- gans. No. 40, p. 636. 50. Dr Prichard and Phrenology : Cyclopaedia of Practical Medi- cine, article " Temperament." No. 40, p. 649. 556 APPENDIX, NO. II. VOL. IX. 1834-6. 51. Affection of the Faculty of Language from Injury of the Brain. No. 41, p. 17. 52. Characteristics of the Caribs. No. 41, p. 20. 53. Opinions of Tiedemann respecting Phrenology. No. 41, p. 48-49. 54. Notice of a work on Epilepsy by Dr Epps. No. 42, p. 188. 55. Notice of Scipion Pinel's " Physiologic de 1'Homme Aliene ap- pliquee a 1'Analyse de 1'Homme Social." No. 43, p. 259. 56. A Singular Dream. No. 43, p. 278. 57. Remarks on the Study of Insanity, &c. No. 44, p. 315-17. 58. Observations on the Skull of Dean Swift. No. 45, p. 468-71. 59. Notice of the " Journal of the Phrenological Society of Paris," for April 1835. No. 46, p. 505-10. 60. On the Importance of Physiology with reference to Education. No. 47, p. 620. VOL. X. 1836-7. 61. On Insanity and Crime : illustrated by Cases. No. 49, p. 121. 62. Remarks on the Possibility of enlarging the Cerebral Organs by Exercise of the Mental Faculties. No. 51, p. 414. 63. On the Secretiveness of Thieves. No. 51, p. 455. 64. Notice of Mrs Barwell's " Nursery Government." No. 52, p. 580. 65. Notice of a Paper by Professor Tiedemaun on a Comparison of Negro and European Skulls. No. 52, p. 627. VOL. XI. 1838. 66. Notice of Rogmanosi's Letter on Craniology. No. 55, p. 189. 67. Notice of Poupin's Illustrations of Phrenology. No. 55, p. 190. 68. Remarks on Dr Prichard's Third Attack on Phrenology, in his " Treatise on Insanity." No. 57, p. 345. VOL. XII. 1839. 69. Notice of Phrenological Works by Pietro Molossi. No. 59, p. 165. VOL. XIV. 1841. 70. Indications of the Progress of Phrenology in Italy. No. 67, p. 127. 71. Phrenological Controversies in Italy Molossi. No. 68, p. 237. APPENDIX, NO. III. 557 VOL. XV. 1842. 72. Remarks on the Nature and Causes of Insanity : in a Letter to the late Dr Mackintosh. No. 71, p. 119. 73. Notice of Schindler's " Life of Beethoven." No. 72, p. 255. 74. Notice of Dr Webster's " Observations on the Admission of Medical Pupils to Bethlem Hospital." No. 73, p. 375. VOL. XVI. 1843. 75. Notice of Medical Journals. No. 77, p. 385. 76. Notice of Brigham on the Brain ; Stark on the Responsibilitv of Monomaniacs ; The Zoist, No. II. ; The People's Phrenological Journal ; and The Phreno-Magnet. No. 77, p. 396-406. VOL. XVIII. 1845. 77. On Merit and Demerit, as affected by the Doctrine of Moral Necessity. No. 85, p. 337. (Written about twenty years before, and lately found by accident among old papers.) VOL. XIX. 1846. 78. Phrenology its Nature and Uses : An Address to the Stu- dents of Anderson's University. No. 87, p. 97. LIST OF PK COMBE'S CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE TRANSACTIONS OF THE PHRENOLOGICAL SOCIETY, PUBLISHED IN 1824. 1. On the Effects of Injuries of the Brain upon the Manifestations of the Mind. P. 183. 2. Observations on Dr Barclay's Objections to Phrenology. P. 393. No. III. Referred to on p. 439. SENSATION OF COLD IN DIFFERENT CLIMATES. In an able article, entitled " Observations on the effects of Climate in the Production of Diseases of the Lungs, dr., by Robert Laicson, Assistant- Surgeon 47th Regimmt," published in the Edin. Med. and Surf/. Journal, No. 160, a scientific and practical view is given of the causes why the feeling of cold or heat is frequently so different as it is known to be, from the real temperature indicated by the thermometer. " A chill," says he, " may be shortly described, as that state of the body which is produced by an abstraction of caloric from the surface, more rapidly than, from the state of the health at the time, can be restored by the exercise of its natural functions." This is attended by a feel- ing of cold, the intensity of which is proportionate to the degree in which the rate of abstraction exceeds that of the production of heat. 558 APPENDIX, NO. III. " The conditions of the atmosphere which influence the abstraction of heat from the body are three, viz., its temperature, its motion, and its hygrometric state ; and the character of a climate mainly depends on the manner in which these are combined. " I. When the temperature of the air is low, heat is rapidly ab- sorbed from the surface of the body, and it could not preserve the natural temperature, were radiation, and the free contact of the air, not prevented by thick clothing. " II. Air, of a given temperature, in a state of motion, deprives a warm body of a much greater quantity of heat than air of the same temperature at rest." According to Sir John Leslie, air with a velocity of eight miles an hour would, in a given time, deprive a body of double the quantity of heat which the same air would do in a state of rest ; with a velocity of 16 miles an hour, three times the quantity ; with one of 24 miles, four times ; and with one of 32 miles, five times. " III. The hygrometric state of the air is, next to its temperature, the most important condition which influences the abstraction of heat from the human body. " It is usual, in treating of aqueous vapour, to represent its elas- ticity by the column of mercury it could support ; and as the absolute weight of vapour that could exist in a given space is always propor- tional to its elasticity, the quantity which could exist in the same space, at di/erent temperatures, is usually indicated by the correspond- ing elasticities. The quantity of aqueous vapour which can exist in the atmosphere is very small at low temperatures, but it increases with great rapidity as the temperature advances ; for at the tempera- ture of 16'3 Fahrenheit, the elasticity is 100 inches, at 34'0 it is '200 inches, at 52'8 it is '400 inches, at 73'0 it is '800, and at 94'8 it is 1-600 inches, or it is doubled for every increase of 19'6. The air is seldom or never completely saturated with moisture, and would not begin to deposit it until cooled down more or less ; the temperature at which the deposition commences is called the dew-point. When air is not fully saturated with vapour, it is always capable of taking up an additional quantity, which is pi'oportional to the difference be- tween the elasticity of vapour at the dew-point, and at the tempera- ture of the air : thus, were the temperature of the air 30'0, while the dew-point was 16'3, the additional quantity of vapour the air would be capable of taking up would be represented by '100 ; and, were the temperature of the air 73'0, and the dew-point 52'8, it would be represented by '400." " The quantity of heat necessary for the formation of vapour is the same, whatever may be the sensible temperature of the vapour, and, of course, the quantity necessary for converting any portion of water APPEXDIX, SO- III. 559 into vapour is directly proportional to its bulk ; hence, in the above examples, the heat required to vaporise as much water as would saturate the air in the former, would be to that in the latter as 1 to 4."* " Such are the conditions of the atmosphere which lead to the ab- straction of heat from the body ; they are variously combined in dif- ferent climates, ve of, 282. Asylums, Lunatic, 229, 230, 277, 280, 375, 378, 380, 382, 496. Barclay, Dr John, 127. Belgians, King and Queen of the, 259, 265, 269, 272, 337, 338. Benevolence, remarks on, 112. Boardman, Andrew, 371, 520. Brain, essay on effects of injuries of, 123. Report on Dr Combe's, 540. British and Foreign Medical Review, list of Dr Combe's contributions to, 371, 484, 553. Browne, Dr W. A. F., 229, 280. Burrows, Dr, 188. Buxton on Prison Discipline, 75. Caldwell, Dr, 110. Calvin, John, remarks on, 421. Calvinism, effects of, 3, 33, 333, 406. Carmichael, Richard, 211, 255, 335. Cheap publications, remarks about, 333. Children, on the management of, 232, 366. Exercise for, 361. Evils of isolating them, 495. Clark, Sir James, letters to, 263, 264, *T4> 296, 302, 311, 324, 329, 341, 480, 509, 515, 518, 521. Letters from, 325, 394, 426, 457. Clark, John Forbes, 437. Climates for invalids, remarks on, 279, 365, 460. Cobden, Richard, Letter to, on his health, 485. Interview with, 492. Collie, Alexander, 69, 77, 84, 136. Comb, George, father of Andrew Combe, 5. Combe, Abram, 108 ; death of, 143. Combe, Margaret, letter to, 270. Combe, George, brother of Andrew, 93, 459. Combe, James, death of, 96. Combe, William, visit to, 520. Letter to his wife, 363. Combe, Jean, 97. Combe, Mrs William, letter to, 363. Confidence, professional, observance of, 237. " Constitution of Man" first read to the Phrenological Society, 152. Translated into French. 20*9; into German, 211. Convalescence, letter to a patient in a state of, 288. Cork, remarks on, 493. Corn-law, repeal of, remarks on, 492. Cox, Mrs, letters on the death of, 388, 390. Cox, Miss, letters to, 253, 269. 274. Letter from, on Dr Combe's death. 527. Creation, " Vestiges of,' ? 479. Cyclopaedia of Practical Medicine, 179. Davies, Edward, case of, 184. Depression, mental, case of, 284. Dickson, the Rev. Dr David, 34. Digestion, work on " The Physiology of," 275, 292. Diplomacy, old and new, letter on, 476. Disease, influence of, on religious feel- ings, 165, 408. Prevention of, 239, 430. Insidious inroads of, 297. A state not suitable for repentance, 406. 2N 562 INDEX. D'Orsey, A. J. D., letter to, 361. Dumont, Prosper, 209. Dunfermline, Lord, letter to, on edu- cation, 490. Dunville, William and Miss, 437, 495. Dunville, Mrs, 471. Dupuytren, Professor, remarks on, 56, 57,58. Edinburgh, remarks on the Universi- sity, High School, and New Acade- my of, 324. Edinburgh Review attacks Phrenolo- gy, 44, 46, 149. Education, 169, 176, 220, 282, 290. Me- dical, 311, 324, 341, 400, 483, 488. Eminent men, cerebral development of, 113. Esquirol, Professor, 68, 72. His col- lection of skulls, 225. His health, 227. Evils, mode of acting under unavoid- able, 293. Exercise, mental, as a means of pre- serving health, 369. Exercise for young children, 361. Florence, climate of, 460. Forbes, Dr, letter to, 482. Character of Dr Combe by, 537. French, character of, 71, 75, 76. Friends, inexpediency of their be- coming censors of each other, 300. Fry, Mrs, remarks on, 436. Gall, Dr, 82. Goodness, active and passive, differ- ence between, 167. Governess, on the qualifications of a, 220. Graham, Miss Stirling, letter to, 370. Hanwell, Lunatic Asylum at, 230. Hereditary descent of constitutional qualities, 402. High School of Edinburgh, 324. Hirschfeld, Dr Edward, 211, 297, 363. Homicidal maniacs, 72. Homoeopathy, 297, 456, 482. Hope, Dr James of Lon don, case of, 487 . Howard, Life of, remarks on, 436. Hygiene, on the importance of, as a branch of Medical Education, 311. Infancy, Treatise on the Management of, 366, 406. Exercise in, 361. Insanity, Dr Combe on, 183. See Asy- lums. nvalids, climates for, 279 ; in Madeira, 438 ; condition of, in voyage to Madeira, 464. talians, remarks on the, 105, 461. Italy, travelling in, 461. Jardin du Roi, lectures at, 61. Jeffrey, Lord, his attack on Phreno- logy, 149. Jones, Colonel, 118. Kalley, Dr, imprisonment of, in Ma- deira, 466. Leghorn, voyage to, 100, 102. Luther, remarks on, 417. Lyon, George, on the phrenological causes of the liberty of nations, 197. Mackenzie, Sir George, present to Dr Combe, 153. Visits to, 246, 287. Maclaren, Charles, communication to, on the case of Davies, 185 ; on Ma- deira, 438. Maconochie, Captain, R.N., letter to, 257. Maconochie, Mrs, letter to, 396. Madeira, voyages to, 431, 463. Dr Combe's mode of life in, 433. De- scription of, 438, 471. Malta, climate of, 460. Mann, Horace, letter to, on education, 488. Marriage, abstinence from, 402. Medical Society of Edinburgh, Dr Combe defends Phrenology in, 131. Medical education, 311, 324, 341, 400, 483. Medical responsibility, remarks on, 458. Medicine, evils of scepticism on the subject of, 468. Improvement of, 483. Mental cultivation, 169, 176, 220, 282, 290. Derangement, Dr Combe's work on, 183. Depression, letter on, 284. See Asylums. Monarchical and republican institu- tions, remarks on, 363. Montrose, Lunatic Asylum at, 229. Napier, Macvey, declines Dr Combe's contributions to the Edinburgh Re- view, 184 ; also to the Encyclopae- dia Britannica, 191. Naples, Dr Combe's visit to, 208. Negro and European brains compared by Tiedemann, 303. INDEX. 563 Nervous system, necessity for exercise of, 369. New-tons of Cmriehill, 4, 5. Newton, Marion, mother of Andrew Combe, 7. Nicol, Robert, case of, 427. Operatives, English, on the condition of, 292. Opinions of friends, should they be unreservedly stated to them, 238 ; new, the proper time for publishing them, 416. Organic laws, effects of obedience to, 334. Orleans, Maid of, 74. Paris, state of, in 1831, 204 ; in 1833, 2-2-2 ; visit to, in 1835, 253. Patients, letters to, 146, 149, 156, 159, 181, 239, 284, 288, 293, 334, 365, 369, 430, 458, 460. Phrenology, Dr Combe's obligations to, 47, 124, 137. Studies in, 65. De- fends it against Dr Barclay, 127. Size a measure of power, 150. Article on, in the British and Foreign Medical Review, 371. Influence of, on his re- ligious opinions, 406. Professional advantages of, 409. Lectureship of, 481. Outline of, 549. Phrenological Journal instituted, 129. Dr Combe's contributions to, 553. Phrenological Society founded, 93. Dr Combe President of, 154. Dr Ro- berton's legacy to, 511. Physiology applied to Health and Edu- cation, work on, 235. On teaching it to children, 290. Pisa, climate of, 460. Plan of a work, remarks on, 485. Pott-nwrtem examination, report of, 538. Preaching, different styles of, 333. Prichard, Dr, Answer to, 225. Professional remuneration, 240, 530. Professors, on retiring allowances to, 329. Reformation, remarks on, 417. Religion, letter on the introduction of, into common schools, 499, 501, 509. Religious opinions, 3, 33, 333, 406. 480. Renton, Dr, 437. Repentance, state of disease not suit- able for, 408. Respirator, the advantages of, 281. Roberton, Dr, legacy to Phrenological Society, 511. Robertson, Mary, nurse of Andrew Combe, 3. Rome, Dr Combe's visit to, 214. Ad- vantages of, 460. Royer, A. A., 222. Scotch, natural qualities of the, 2. Scott, Dr John, letter to, 241. His answer, 242. His report of the JHM- mortem examination of Dr Combe, 538. i Sedgwick, Miss, letter to, 290. Ship-fever, remarks on, 525. Siddons, Mrs H., letters to, 197, 268, 336. Skin, Essay on the " Nature and Uses of," 219. Socialists in Paris, 203. I Spectral illusions, remarks on, 228. \ Speirs, Graham, letter to, on " Private Lunatic Asylums," 378. Spurzheim, Dr, 41, 44, 50, 206, 216, 223. Steinhauer, sculptor, 362. Stewart, Dugald, 41. Dr Combe's opi- nion of, 47. Sunday in the house of Dr Combe's father, 9. : Superintendent of a lunatic asylum, on the qualifications of, 496. I Tait, William, letter to, 427. Theatre, 401. Conduct of a patient in relation to, 480. Tiedemann, commentary on his " Com- parison of the Negro and European Brain," 303. University of Edinburgh, 324. Verity, Dr Robert, case of, 510. " Vestiges of Creation," 479. | Welsh, Rev. Dr David, 476. 1 Whiteside, James, Queen's Counsel, case of, 487. i Wilberforce, Life of, remarks on, 435. Young, Mrs, death of, 525. APPENDIX, 549. No. I. Outline of Phrenological Faculties, 549. II. List of Dr Combe's Contri- butions to the Phrenologi- cal Journal, &c.. 553. III. Sensation of odd, 557. IV. List of his Contributions to the British and Foreign Medical Review. 560. Printed by NEILL & Co., Edinburgh. UC SOUTHERN REGONA*. jBt mourn A 000 946 832 3 3 & 2> 3 3 j L~ A 1 /?:^