proportion a mere question of general average of appearances, that a drill-sergeant, who, by himself on the street, appears formal, stiff, and unnatural, strikes us in no such light when he is marching with his regiment. On the contrary, the regularity of all the movements, is a subject of admiration, not of ridicule.

Vimont divides this organ into two; the one of which he calls Size, the other Distance. The former, he states to be nearest the root of the nose, and the latter contiguous to the organ of Weight. "I have," says he, "been led to the discovery of this faculty (Distance), by the observation of the habits of certain animals, and some facts selected from the phenomena of human action. I cannot conceive how the faculty of Size should be confounded with that of Distance; the one may exist independently of the other. To estimate the size or volume of bodies, is to form a conception of all the points of their superficies; while distance consists altogether of the interval which takes place betwixt two points of a body, or that which occurs betwixt two objects placed in different situations." We are not at all convinced of the soundness of this distinction, nor do the illustrations of Vimont throw any light upon his meaning. We think, however, that we have seen in some individuals, singular for their power of measuring dimensions, a very large amount of brain occupying the space from the inner cornea of the eyes to the sides of the nose immediately above the root, forming a sort of triangular vacuum betwixt the inner side of the eyelid and the eyebrow, which hardly appears to form part of the organ of Size. Whether these parts of the brain are disjoined, however, we have not yet discovered.

The lower animals possess the organ of Size in large endowment. The eagle makes his stoop, the hunter his leap, the lion his spring, with the nicest precision, and from the most delicate sense of the exact distance each has to dart upon the prey. A good hunter will, in every hedge or gate that he clears, estimate the height so exactly, that in every case he will leap the net distance, and not an inch more or less. Another organ has been announced by Vimont as his discovery, which he calls the "Geometrical Sense." "If we examine," he continues, "with care the manner in which certain animals travel or fly, we will find that there exists among them extraordinary differences. Pigeons, crows, and larks, fly in squadrons, and without any arrangement; as is also the case with starlings, sparrows, and geese. There are other birds, on the contrary, which walk, swim, or fly, in a precise and regular order. The sea-duck often form, on the surface of the ocean, long black lines of the ut most regularity. All who have noticed birds of passage in their flight, must have been struck with those kinds of geometrical figures which certain species describe in the air, most commonly in the form of a very accurate triangle." He then observes, that in all animals of this description, will be found a developement of the brain quite marked, at that part which in man corresponds to the outer edge of the organ of Size, pressing downwards upon the eye. He also inquires if the faculty exists in man, and contributes to form, alone or combined with other organs, the talent for geometry. In Sir Isaac Newton this part is very prominent, as alsó in Watt, and several excellent geometricians with whom we have conversed. We are acquainted with a very profound geometrician, in whom it is large, and who declares that while he perceives at a glance all propositions connected with pure geometry, he has always found arithmetic extremely irksome and difficult. His organ of Locality and the Reflecting Faculties are nothing more than respectable. It is certain, that Zhero Colburn and George Bidder, with wonderful arithmetical talents, could make nothing of mathematics; and we know an individual in whom Size and Locality are very large, Number full, and the Reflecting Faculties rather large, or large, who has made very poor progress in geometry. We however abstain from drawing from these very limited observations any conclusion, and only invite the assistance of other Phrenologists to a further investigation of the phenomena.

SECTION IV.-Organ XXV. Weight.

THE organ of Weight is situated near the centre of the arch of the eyebrow, immediately on the outward side of that of Size; and its power is indicated both by the extent of the eyebrow, and by the projection of the brain outward, above, and over the eye.

Mr. Simpson has found the organ large in Chalmers, Brewster, Hall, Mackenzie, Leslie, Whewell, Farish, and Sir Isaac Newton, and in all eminent engineers. He conceives that its function is to give the sense of equilibrium, and that its higher manifestations are seen in skill in dynamics, and knowledge of the application of mechanical forces. Mr. Combe thinks, that "Statics, or that branch of mathematics which considers the motion of bodies arising from gravity, probably belongs to it. Persons in whom Individuality, Size, Weight, and Locality are large, have generally a talent for engineering, and those branches of mechanics which consist in the application of forces; they delight in steam-engines, water-wheels, and turning-lathes. The same combination occurs in persons distinguished for successful execution of difficult feats in skating, in which the regulation of equilibrium is an important element. Constructiveness, when Weight is small, leads to rearing still fabrics, rather than fabricating working machinery. Sir George Mackenzie proposes the name Resistance, as more descriptive of the function of the organ; and in this, is supported by Vimont and the French Phrenologists."

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Mr. Simpson mentions Miss S. L., who, attacked with headach, found it very powerful at the organ of Weight. Her perception of equilibrium was deranged; she said she felt as if tipsy, the floor and ceiling assuming an approach to the perpendicular, and she herself experiencing the sensation of being lifted up, and falling down or forward. Hunter, the anatomist, complained of like symptoms, felt as if suspended in the air, or that the room was running rapidly round, and his head flying from him with great velocity. When he recovered," says Sir Everard Home, "his own feelings did not give him information respecting his centre of gravity, so that he was unable to balance his body and prevent himself from falling." Mr. Simpson explains the effects of intoxication on the same principle. "But for an innate, steady, and never-failing perception of equilibrium, animal movements would be only staggering and tumbling. The intoxicated soon lose a steady gait, fall down, see perpendiculars at right angles, believe the floor itself perpendicular, and grasp the ground to save themselves from falling off its surface; they feel lifted up, sinking down, and whirling round. Sickness would follow these sensations independent of the stimulus of the liquor to the stomach; and it is extremely probable that sea-sickness results from the inverted feelings occasioned by motion, which violates our habitual perception of equilibrium." Here Mr. Simpson supposes the effects of intoxication to arise from a want of sense of equilibrium, and sea-sickness from its over acuteness. He also quotes a case where the individual found himself sick whenever he watched the motion of the vessel he was in, but on fixing his eyes on the hills on shore became restored. But, in point of fact, the man's equilibrium was not steadier in the latter event than in the first; all the difference was, that he did not see the motion of the ship. If Weight produces the sense of equilibrium, how is it lost by intoxication? Liquor, which stimulates the organs, ought thus rather to have increased the sense of equilibrium. So, the head attacks of Miss S. L. and John Hunter, as they must necessarily have produced over action, not loss of action, ought to have made them balance themselves better than ever. Besides, how should the mere absence of an organ, make a man feel as if whirling, flying, sinking, or his head running away from him?

But if we suppose the organ hitherto called Weight, to be that of the Perception of Motion, the difficulty seems explained. All the elements of nature move or stand still by fixed laws, which experience gradually ascertains in all their relations, and accustoms the body to act in unison with them. But the organ which perceives motion, when inflamed, will, of course, perceive life and action in those objects which have none in nature,—or combined with Size, Form, Colour, and Locality, it may make landscapes, rooms, and figures for itself, and perceive all in a state of motion. Whether we use the terms resistance or motion, is a mere speculative question; it being an axiom in physics, that the power of motion of bodies is just in proportion to their quality of resistance, it being difficult to move a body just in the proportion to the difficulty of bringing it to a state of rest. This is in unison with Mr. Combe's remark, that when Weight is small, Constructiveness is manifested in the rearing only of still fabrics, not of working machinery. It also quadrates with the case of the individual whose sickness was the result of perceiving the motion of the vessel, which was cured by withdrawing his observation to the motionless hills. Infants, before they begin to walk, never get sick at sea; and persons with deficient Weight seem less liable to

that complaint, probably because, having an obtuse perception of motion, they are less sensible of the difference betwixt sea and land. So, infants can be rocked in cradles, or swung about in the arms, while such a process would instantly produce vomiting in persons accustomed to exercise their sense of motion. When we go ashore, after a long voyage, it is two or three days before the organ of motion ceases to feel the pitching of the ship. From Washington Irving's tale of "My Uncle," in which he conceives of all the furniture in the room dancing reels, we should expect to find in him this organ largely developed. Players of quoits, or archers, require large Size to perceive distance, and large Weight to judge of the velocity necessary. Some seamen estimate the ship's sailing-rate with singular accuracy. Galileo, whose organ of Weight was very large, discovered the earth's motion, and corrected our notions regarding that of the sun. Newton's genius might be said to be occupied in estimating velocities.

Still the subject is not free from difficulties. Nothing is more certain, than that the perception of motion is one of the most important elements of our knowledge of the external world, and yet that no organ has been assigned to it. As to aptitude in the management of our muscles, it seems certain, that practice and an original physical flexibility, combined with the desire to use and manage them dexterously or gracefully, must account for much that we have hitherto attributed to the endowment of a cerebral organ. We observe that Mr. Richard Edmondson has made some approach to the result at which we have arrived, in designating the function of the organ as that which not only perceives perpendicularity, but the direction of force, especially the gravitating momentum of bodies. Still there are circumstances which might induce us to pause in making a change of nomenclature. The cleverest and most ingenious mechanics often altogether fail in calculating the strength of the material which is employed in their engines or bridges. Grocers, by the eye, estimate the weight of commodities to a nicety; and some persons can guess the exact ponderosity of all their acquaintances. So, glass-blowers when desired to make a vessel of any form, can tell the exact weight of glass required; and the man employed to bring it from the pot, will take the quantity wanted to the precision of a drop. Some musicians and pianistes are said to owe the excellence of their touch, and the exactitude of their fingering, to this organ.

Further observation is necessary to enable us to pronounce any definite opinion upon this subject.

SECTION V.-Organ XXVI. Colour.

GALL observed in painters who were distinguished for colouring, that "the frontal part situated immediately above the middle of the eye, advanced into an arched prominence; the whole arch, and especially its external half, was directed upwards in such a manner, that the external half of the superciliary ridge was more raised than the internal." In painters who excel as colourists, he continues, the superciliary ridge is strongly raised in the middle; in others this ridge has almost a horizontal direction; from the root of the nose to near the middle of the superior arch of the orbit, it is flattened or depressed; while in the first, this region becomes more and more prominent as it approaches the middle of the superciliary ridge. The organ of the sense of colours, is usually more developed in women than in men. Hence it happens, that the eyebrows form generally an arc of a circle in women."

That the perception of Colour is in the mind, and not in the eye, is proved by the fact, that in dreams or spectral illusions, we see colours when the eyes are shut. The eyes have no memory, but we recollect colours, and can match them from memory, detecting the resemblance or dissimilarity of a present hue with one we have seen before. As it is certain, that there are persons, who, though possessing an acute sense of hearing, yet cannot discern melody; so, men with piercing eyes, which see far and near, great and minute objects, may be incapable of distinguishing colours. This is not to be accounted for upon some theory relative to the pigment of the eye. "We have examined," says Sir J. F. W. Herschel, "with some attention, a very eminent optician, whose eyes (or rather eye, having lost the sight of one by accident) have this curious peculiarity (of not distinguishing colours), and have satisfied ourselves, contrary to the received opinions, that all the prismatic rays have

the power of exciting and affecting them with the sensation of light, and producing distinct vision; so that the defect arises from no insensibility of the retina to rays of any particular refrangibility, nor to any colouring matter in the humours of the eye preventing certain rays from reaching the retina (as has been ingeniously supposed), but from a defect in the sensorium by which it is rendered incapable of appreciating exactly those differences between rays on which their colour depends."

Dr. Spurzheim and Mr. Combe suppose, that perception is the lowest, and memory the highest state of each faculty. But memory is nothing but the recollection of perceptions. We cannot remember what was not perceived; and the accuracy of the recollection of an object depends on the vividness of our perception of it. If the memory of perceptions depend on the size of the organs of perception, then imperfection of memory indicates deficient size of developement. If the vividness and clearness of the present perception of colour depend on the size of the organ of Colour, a small organ must indicate deficient perception. Thus, a feeble memory of tints indicates a small organ of Colour; a small organ argues imperfect perception; defective memory supposes defective perception, and the power of recollection is therefore in the ratio of vividness of perception. A person may perceive better than he remembers, but can never remember in a greater measure of vividness than he perceives. Mr. Combe's own illustrations prove this. Tucker, whose organ of Colour is small," calls orange green, and green orange; red he considers as brown, and brown as red; blue silk looks to him like pink, and pink of a light blue colour; indigo is described as purple." Mr. Milne (brassfounder), his grandfather, brothers, and cousin, all possessed a small organ and deficient perception of Colour. Mr. Milne excels in distinguishing forms and proportions, is fond of shooting, and is an expert marksman. Yet he took red tape as a match for olive corduroy. Pink he calls blue, the colour of the sky; and in candle-light would pronounce it a dirty buff. Grass appears to him the colour of orange; crimson, blue in day-light, and bright red by gas-light. Dr. Nicol notices a naval officer who purchased red breeches to match with a blue uniform coat; and Mr. Harvey, a tailor at Plymouth, who clouted black smallclothes with a crimson patch. Dugald Stewart, Dalton, and Troughton, were equally deficient. The fundamental defect in all these cases is deficient perception. individuals did not see the colours, because they did not distinguish them, and therefore they had no recollection of them; so true it is that we do not attend to that which we do not perceive clearly. Were perception the lowest degree of an organ, and memory the highest, it would be quite possible to find persons who could distinguish the finest shades, and fix rules of harmony, while they could not recollect green or blue; but this never occurs. A man remembers in the ratio of his vividness of perception; and that is conclusive proof, that memory is just perception engraven more or less deeply on the brain.

The

When the graphic organs are large, and Colour small, the artist betakes himself to drawing outline. Many cases of defect in this organ are recorded, which need not be here enumerated. Goethe observes, that the workmen in Mosaic, at Rome, find 750,000 shades of colours often too small for their purpose.

A bookseller in Augsburg, blind from birth, distinguished colours accurately, and arranged them in perfect harmony. Now, it is clear he could have no notion of colours; and therefore, harmony of colour cannot depend upon the perception of it, and indeed cannot be a law of mere tinting, but must possess some more generalised principle of congruity. If the man judged by the touch, this harmony must evidently be as much a law of tactile feeling as of sight. A blind man, at Stirling, distinguishes colours by the touch; and Derham mentions a similar case. Yet, the conception which the blind have of colours, must be an entire fallacy; and therefore it is impossible to suppose that the organ of colour is that which determines the laws of harmony. We believe the notions of the blind to be fairly represented by one of their number, who supposed scarlet to be like the sound of a trumpet. It may be true, that a certain general disposition of hues exists in nature, or that she has a tendency to display her tints in a peculiar series, and by a fixed order; and the eye of a colourist perceiving this disposition, may insensibly take it as a rule of harmony, in the same manner as the man possessed of large Size, derives his notions of proportion from having struck a general average. But in the beautiful flowers of the field, we have seen the laws of colour, as laid down by painters, often violated; and, after all, we suspect that nature is as good a judge of harmony as they are, and that therefore

their canons are little better than caprice or fancy. If nature indeed does not violate their statutes, then the inference is, that their rules are derived from observation, and not from any tendencies produced by the organ in question.

Upon the whole, we do not think that the organ of Colour should be considered as established.

CHAPTER XII.

ON THE THEORY OF BEAUTY.

We have now arrived at the conclusion of the history and description of those organs which perceive the primary qualities of matter. But as there remains to be considered a question, not only of general psychological interest, and therefore not to be omitted in a dissertation on the powers of the human mind, but which bears direct reference to the inquiry as to the functions of those organs which have more recently formed the topic of our remarks, it will be proper here to submit some observations on the subject.

Mr. Combe, in treating of the organ of Form, propounds the doctrine, contained in the following quotation:—

"The metaphysicians do not admit a faculty of this kind. Mr. Jeffrey, in the article Beauty,' in the Supplement to the Encyclopædia Britannica, agrees with another author, whom he quotes, Mr. Knight, in maintaining that there are no forms that have any intrinsic beauty, or any power of pleasing or affecting us, except through their associations or affinities to mental affections, either as expressive of fitness or utility, or as types and symbols of certain moral or intellectual qualities, in which the sources of our interest are obvious. From these observations, one would suspect Mr. Jeffrey and Mr. Knight to be endowed with small organs of Form themselves, and that they have taken their own experience as that of mankind in general." I have met with persons in whom this organ is large, who declare that they enjoy a perceptible pleasure from the contemplation of mere form, altogether unconnected with ideas of utility and fitness, or of moral or intellectual associations; and that they can speak as intelligibly of elegant and inelegant, beautiful and ugly shapes, regarded merely as shapes, as of sweet and bitter, hard and soft." Mr. Combe subsequently maintains, that there is an abstract beauty in colours; that because Lord Jeffrey pronounces this mere pedantry and jargon, he must have a deficient developement of the organ of Colour, although he remembers and matches tints with singular exactness. Lord Jeffrey then claims an uncommon sensibility to the beauty of colours, spending "more time than most people in gazing on bright flowers and peacocks' necks." Painters inform Mr. Combe, "that the very circumstance of Mr. Jeffrey preferring bright flowers and peacocks' necks, indicates that his mental power is weak, that it requires strong stimulus to excite it to action, and even when thus stimulated, is not capable of producing feelings of direct pleasure, or perceptions of harmony and discord, which, from their large organs, they decidedly enjoy." In the very next page, ("System," 3d Edition,) Mr. Combe, who had just found a passion for bright flowers to indicate a weak organ, mentions, that a person "in whom this organ was very large, was engrossed with a passion for showy flowers." Let Mr. Combe reconcile these statements at his leisure; and when he has proved that a small organ demands a great stimulus, he may discover that a passion for gin is indicative of weak Alimentiveness, and that he who possesses the organ large can stand nothing beyond toast and water.

Mr. Combe's proposition may be stated syllogistically:-Sensibility to the beauty of colours, is the result of the powerful action of a large organ of Colour; Lord Jeffrey maintains that this sensibility is the result of association; ergo, Lord Jeffrey has not a large organ of Colour!

The argument is about as logical as the following:-The mind is a congeries of faculties; Lord Jeffrey denies that the mind is a congeries of faculties; ergo, Lord Jeffrey's mind is not a congeries of faculties.