Library Collections: Document: Full Text

Gentlemen of the Phrenological Society, --

THE different lecturers who have preceded me in this course, have each taken up a separate principle of Phrenology; they have treated every part fully and ably; they have formed a complete phrenological structure; and in putting the finishing hand to the work, I shall not attempt to place a crowning stone, or add a new ornament; they have left me no space for the one or the other. But, though I may not add to the beauty and strength of the whole, there are certain minor additions to be made, sundry small crevices to be filled, and a few connecting parts to be strengthened: be this my humble task, and be this my apology to you for the desultory nature of my discourse.

Desultory indeed it must be; for, if in treating the subject you have assigned me, I should confine my remarks to what is actually the "Influence of Phrenology upon the Social and Domestic relations of Man," I might, perhaps, begin and close my lecture in the space of one sentence. Should I, however, indulge in speculations on the influence which it may one day exert; the evening would not suffice for my discourse; but, should I extend my remarks to what ought to be its influence, I should hardly know when to cease speaking.

I shall, however, take the part of the juste milieu, neither dismiss you with a sentence, nor tax your patience beyond the usual hour, which a courteous audience always accords to a speaker, speak he never so badly.

You will naturally suppose that I shall dwell most upon the first division of my theme, -- the social relations of man; since, of all the domestic relations which he should assume, I have not the advantage or the happiness of a practical knowledge. I shall, however, be so discursive, and touch upon so many and various topics, that I may be called to order, by those who consider Phrenology in a different light, unless I show, that, in my way of viewing it, it is broad enough to cover the whole ground over which I shall range: allow me, therefore, first to state what I conceive the nature and high office of the science.

It teaches that our immaterial and immortal spirits, though essentially independent of matter, are, in this state of being, entirely subjected to, and dependent upon corporeal organization for the manner and extent of their manifestations.

That God has given to the human race, collectively, the capacity of perceiving, and the power of executing those conditions on which the development and improvement of the immortal spirit is dependent; that observance or neglect of these conditions, is visited upon the race to the third and fourth generation.

That individual men have faculties, sentiments, and propensities, the quality and strength of which are dependent on the original size, the physical structure, and the education or exercise of certain corporeal organs.

That when the original formation of these organs is according to the general laws of nature, the individual is a free moral agent, and responsible for his actions according to the degree of his intelligence; that when the original organization is unnatural, or when it becomes diseased, or when the organs sleep, the individual is not a moral free agent.

It teaches that the whole corporeal organization is an unit; that no one part can be diseased without all the others being implicated, directly or indirectly, immediately or remotely.

That man can abuse and destroy the powers of his mind, by neglecting or abusing his corporeal organization, and that God does and will punish him therefor.

Farther, it teaches that the manifestation of mind is dependent, most immediately, upon the structure and condition of certain parts of the brain; that the structure is dependent, in a great degree, upon the obedience or neglect of certain known laws by the human race in general; that the condition is dependent, in a great measure, upon the use or abuse, exercise or neglect of his organization, by each individual.

Lastly, it teaches that the body may be the corrupt and unhallowed abode, where selfishness holds uncertain sway over tumultuous propensities and fierce passions; or may be swept and garnished, and become a fit temple for the transient dwelling of a spirit, emanating from the Deity himself.

In considering man, and different animals, we perceive in all a natural tendency to social union, a sort of mutual attraction of aggregation; and, although it shows itself in various degrees of energy, to a certain extent, it always exists: this is the foundation of society.

Now, it is not, as some would assert, considerations of utility or advantage which decide one class of animals, or individual men to associate closely together; and another class of animals, or other individual men, to live comparatively alone. You may give to foxes the same facilities for obtaining food, the same freedom from persecution that you do the sheep, but they will not congregate in flocks; nor will persecution render any gregarious animals solitary. Neither do considerations of this kind influence men, and decide their character for attachment and love of intercourse with their kind. There are some men who are truly benevolent and philanthropic, who not only wish well to all mankind, but will strive and suffer to make them better; who take an interest in knowing what is going on in the world, and especially in what progress the race is making in improvement; but who are solitary in habit; who love to be alone, are little attached to individuals, and have few intimate friends. Other men are uneasy when alone, seek constantly for society, take great interest in individuals, yet are deficient in enlarged benevolence and philanthropy. The social feelings always exists: a natural hermit would be a monster; artificial ones we have plenty of. I knew of an instance of the manifestation of this social feeling in two old gentlemen in England, who were both nearly deaf, but who regularly met, every morning, to take a long walk into the country; one always walked about ten feet before the other; they did not communicate, even by signs; and yet, if one was unwell, the other was uneasy, and seldom took his walk alone.