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of small pieces of machinery which he had seen. perversity, as it was called, he was reprimanded and beaten. At the age of about seven, he was positively denied all means of cultivating those talents, and was most severely threatened for the future. He at that time had an opportunity of minutely inspecting a violin, and after much toil and secret working, he succeeded in constructing one which answered his purpose. But when the discovery was made a considerable time after, home was made so disagreeable to him by the beatings and upbraidings which he received to induce him to form other habits, that, when still a very young boy, he left it with a few pence in his pocket, and entered upon the business of life. After seeking in vain for employment, from wrights, turners, and other artificers, congenial to his taste, he was forced to engage with a barber, merely to keep soul and body together. The barber fortunately was musical, and on one occasion, broke the instrument upon which he played. The boy having repaired it for him, and given such proofs of ingenuity as to set the barber a-talking, the attention of an instrument-maker was drawn to him, into whose employment he was soon after received. From one step to another, he advanced to that of a musical-instrument maker in Paris, in full employment, and more than once received the compliments of the Institute for his discoveries and improvements. The celebrated Abbé Hauy was one of those who were appointed by that body to examine and report upon these improvements; and in doing so, the two formed an acquaintance which ended only with the life of the latter. He was never happy when not exercising his inventive powers, and many a time have I heard him regret the want of education in his youth, as he was thus left to waste much of his time and talents in discovering the first principles of a science, which a few weeks study would have taught him. To the uninitiated, it is difficult to conceive in what the favourable circumstances of this gentleman's life consisted, if not in nature herself having bestowed upon him energies calculated to rise superior to every species of repression and discouragement.

If indeed any one could acquire a genius for poetry, for music, or for any thing else, by forming any habits of study, or by any sort of training, then we need not go to Phrenology for an explanation of the phenomena of genius. But as the fact is notoriously the reverse, let us see if the new system reveals any conditions which are not under our control, and which limit the power of forming habits or of acquiring a genius for any pursuit.

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From such observations as the preceding, the phrenologists contend, that genius is the gift of nature, and not the result of even the most favourable combination of external circumstances, and that it is in general partial or limited to a number only of the mental faculties. Experience shews also, that a certain condition of the brain or organ of mind is somehow or other necessary for its manifestations; for, besides the occasional appearance of genius during disease, where none was possessed before, we uniformly see the power of manifesting the faculties vary with every change in the state of their material organs, and reach their greatest degree of vigour when the brain arrives at its full growth. We see them constantly disturbed by its injuries, and varying with its changes; from which, and from innumerable other observations demonstrative of the fact, the phrenologists affirm, that genius is always accompanied with a certain condition of the brain, and without which condition it cannot possibly appear. They farther contend, that the phenomena are not reconcileable with the idea of the brain, or any other part, as a whole, being the single organ of mind, as it is generally stated to be when referred to by the metaphysicians. For if the organ of mind were single, genius ought ALWAYS to be general, and a man should be equally great in every department, or at least should have equal power of becoming great in every department; or, to use Mr Stewart's words, " of forming any habits he chooses, if aided by favourable circumstances," since the single organ ought to be equally fitted for manifesting one faculty as another. In some instances indeed, such as in the Admirable Crichton, Michael Angelo, and a few

more, genius seems to be general. But the puzzling question for the metaphysician comes to be, Why is it not so in every instance? To the phrenologist, the explanation of both cases is extremely easy; for in general genius, he finds the organs of all the intellectual and higher faculties largely developed, whereas in partial, a few only are extremely large. In the portraits of the Admirable Crichton, this is strikingly displayed; and in an excellent bust of Michael Angelo, which I have seen in the church of the Santa Croce at Florence, the same extraordinary development of all the intellectual organs is extremely remarkable. With regard to partial genius, on the principle of the different mental powers being connected with and depending for their manifestations upon different cerebral parts, we can easily conceive how these may be differently proportioned to each other, not only in different individuals, but in the same individual at different periods of his life? or how one man may have a natural power or facility of forming habits of a certain kind, which is denied to another, while he may be excelled in his turn with respect to the power of forming habits of a different kind? In such cases as those of Mozart, Handel, and Haydn, the cerebral organs upon the size of which a great endowment of the faculties of Tune, of Time, and of Ideality depend, may on this principle be easily conceived to have existed without bearing any necessary relation to the degree of endowment of the other faculties. In Pope, Milton, and Cowley, the cerebral organs, with which the faculties of Ideality, Language, &c. are connected, might also easily have existed in large development, although those of Tune, of Constructiveness, or of Number, might be possessed in a much smaller degree. In Addison, who disliked music, the organ of Tune might thus be very small, although that of Ideality was large. And in my friend, the organs of Constructiveness, Tune, Number, and Causality might thus be, and I can say from observation, were largely possessed, although those of Language or of Colour were small. The same must have been the case with the bakers; and each might thus easily be able to form

habits which the others could not have formed under any cir

cumstances.

On the same principle, the peculiarities of genius are easily explicable. No two persons, for example, write poetry, compose music, or paint or draw, precisely in the same style. Thomson, Cowper, and Byron, are all of them poets, but they all differ from each other. Ideality is essential for a poet, Tune and Time for the musician; but according to the combination of these with other faculties, will be the character of the production. Much Ideality, with full development of Adhesiveness, Benevolence, Hope, Conscientiousness, Veneration, and Cautiousness, produce the poetry of a Cowper. A large endowment of Tune, with the same combination, produces sweet, soft, and plaintive notes, which melt the soul. The same Tune or Ideality, combined with much Destructiveness, Combativeness, Selfesteem, and Firmness, will produce warlike music or poetry. It is thus an easy matter for the phrenologist, after ascertaining the relative development of the organs of the different faculties of an author, to tell the general character of his Productions, or, after reading the latter, to infer what are the predominant faculties in the mind of the author. An instance of this kind will be found in the New Edinburgh Review in a phrenological critique of Tennant's poetry.

Having now shewn that the phenomena of intellect admit of an easy explanation on phrenological principles, we proceed to the differences observable in the moral dispositions of individuals, which are also the result of their natural constitution, as they are perceptible from their earliest years, and often continue through life, unchanged under every variety of circumstances. On the one side we have many whose moral principles it seems almost impossible to contaminate, and who have grown up unspotted in the midst of temptations and of bad example. On the other, we have too many whose every motion was watched, and received the most complete moral training which it is possible for man to bestow, and who, notwithstanding, manifested a ferocity

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and baseness of character which it is painful to contemplate. These qualities cannot be said to be in any degree proportioned to the power of intellect which the individual possesses; we find," says that accurate observer, Dr Rush,*"the moral feeling in a state of vigour in persons in whom reason and "taste exist in a weak or in an uncultivated state. I once saw 66 a man," he says, "who discovered no one mark of reason, "who possessed the moral sense or faculty in so high a degree "that he spent his whole life in acts of beneficence. He was "not only inoffensive (which is not always the case), but he was "kind and affectionate to every body. He took great delight in "public worship, and spent several hours a day in devotion." Similar instances are so frequently met with, that no one can deny their truth.

The explanation of these phenomena, which have puzzled philosophers in every age, is easily found in Phrenology. On its principles, the cruelty manifested by the Count Charolois, by Louis XI., and by the Neros and Caligulas of more modern times, is naturally referable to an excessive and uncontroled activity of the organs of the animal propensities, which in these instances, may easily be conceived to have been very large in proportion to those of the moral or restraining powers, under the control of which nature had destined them to act. The moral faculties may thus be present with every degree of intellect. They may be powerful where the intellect is weak or where it is strong, just as the sense of sight may be acute when taste or hearing are either also acute or altogether gone. Let us take, for instance, the two opposite historical characters of Louis XI. and Henri IV. of France. Both possessed an equal share of intellectual power; but how different in their moral nature! In Louis the intellect was made subservient to the gratification of the powerful faculties of Destructiveness, Secretiveness, Acquisitiveness, Self-esteem, uncontrolled by justice or benevolence. In Henri, again, it was guided by strong faculties of Attachment, Benevolence, and Love of Approbation, unbiassed by the dark workings of Secretiveness, Selfishness, and Cruelty. The one was abhorred and detested, the other loved and admired. • Medical Inquiries, vol. II.

VOL. I.-No III.

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