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Combe, George, The Life and Correspondence of Andrew Combe M.D.
----------------------------
THE LIFE
AND

CORRESPONDENCE

OF

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.

BY

GEORGE COMBE.

Res non verba quaeso.

EDINBURGH
MACLACHLAN AND STEWART;
LONGMAN & CO., AND SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO.,
LONDON.

MDCCCL.

PREFACE.

DR COMBE'S Executors were ‑led to desire that a Memoir 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 practitioners, as supplying them with hints calculated to assist the former in their studies, and the latter in the discharge of the 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 aid ; acquaintances and that portion of the public which knew him through the medium of his books, as exhibiting him in his private capacity as a son, 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 hygiène 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, first, 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 systematic form, but of familiar letters, in which topics of importance are introduced, and partially discussed, without 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 execution, 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 rejected or admitted them according to his anticipation of

PREFACE.

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 intelligent 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 portion of the Memoir. The impressions which they communicated in answer to his appeal were highly instructive 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, expressed himself to the following effect:—" Dr Combe's chief characteristics were sagacity, integrity, kindness, prudence, and intellectual activity; but he was not distinguished as an original thinker, and made no discoveries 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 peculiar 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

v

vi

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 minuteness 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 general reader. The events of a sick‑room are never agreeable, 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 another."

On the same topic another non‑professional correspondent wrote:—" I think you have acted very judiciously 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 conviction, 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 termination not only teach us a great practical lesson in re

PREFACE.

gard to our conduct under the influence of disease, but exhibit a beautiful picture of reason, morality, and medical skill long triumphing over difficulties that seemed insurmountable. Considering the great number of victims 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 Phrenology. You are aware that the public in general do not regard these doctrines as having a foundation in nature ; 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 naturally take possession of the reader's mind, which will probably impair the effect of the many valuable observations 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‑professional 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,

‑viii

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 proportion as it is studied and valued. On this subject I am 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 possession of adequate knowledge to authorise them to decide 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 administered to him when he was thrown accidentally in their way, and that in portions of his correspondence which have been withheld from publication as essentially private, he expresses himself as so strongly impressed 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.

PREFACE.

ix

Acting under this impression, he 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 requested 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.

2'o 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,

1st March 1850.

ERRATA.

Page 137, line 14, for " indigatori" read indagatori

	‑	164,	...	29, for 8 grains of 1° calomel" read columba

CONTENT.

Dr Combe's birth and parentage, 4.‑Infancy, 8, 11.‑Development of his brain, 14.‑His school education, 11.‑Apprenticed to a surgeon, 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 Society, 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 Encyclopedia Britannica, 195,‑and both declined.‑Dr Combe reviews "Abercrombie 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 Phrenology, 225,‑Remarks on spectral illusions, 228.‑Remarks on

xii

CONTENT.

Lunatic Asylum at Hanwell, 230.‑Publisbes his work on Physiology applied to Health and Education, 235.‑Confidence observed in medical practice, 237.‑Proposes to withdraw from practice, 243.‑Visit to Coul, 246.‑Goes to Paris, 251.=Returns to Edinburgh, and partially resumes practice, 234.‑Projects establishing 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 Brussels, 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.‑Revisits 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 religious ,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.‑Second voyage to Madeira, 463.‑His stay in Madeira, 471.‑Returns to England, ‑via, Lisbon, 472.‑Passes the winter of 1844‑5 in Edinburgh, 473.‑Severe illness in spring 1845, 474.‑‑Residence 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 Kingstonon‑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.‑Observations on the Americans, 521.‑Returns to Liverpool, 524.‑Proceeds to Scotland, 525.‑Becomes ill at Gorgie Mill, 526.‑His (loath, 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

OF

ANDREW COMBE, M.D.

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS‑ANDREW COMBE's PARENTAGE AND BIRTH ‑ACCOUNT OF HIS FATHER'S PLACE OF RESIDENCE AND DOMESTIC

CIRCUMSTANCES.

THE biography of any individual of a lively and active disposition, which should faithfully represent the feelings and intellectual qualities that animated him, the circumstances in which he was placed, and the sufferings and enjoyments which his conduct evolved, could scarcely fail to prove interesting. It would be a representation 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 intellectual 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

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 perceiving 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 modified or avoided; and during his active life, he endeavoured, by diffusing practical information concerning the laws of health, to save others from similar misfortunes.

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 publication, 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 acting 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 " pefervidum ingenium," or, in phrenological language,‑* for vigorous propensities of Combativeness and Destructiveness,

* An explanation of the Phrenological nomenclature will be found in the Appendix, Vo. I.

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.

which render them bold and energetic in contending with obstacles, but which also, when not thoroughly disciplined, give them a tendency to harshness and irascibility. To these qualities are added strong domestic affections. They possess large organs of Amativeness, Philoprogenitiveness, Adhesiveness, and Concentrativeness, 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, Cautiousness, Secretiveness, Self‑Esteem, Love of Approbation, and Firmness, which confer on them those quiet, prudent, persevering, self‑respecting, and self‑advancing qualities, for which they are celebrated wherever they are known. They possess, moreover, a large development 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 elements 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 increasing civilisation has changed the aspect of domestic manners, and that improvement rapidly advances.

ANDREW COMBE was the fifteenth child and seventh son of George Combj 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 concerning 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

41 See " Jacobinism in the Nursery," in Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, of 9th August 1845, New Series, vol. iv., p. 81, and in " Select Writings of Robert Chambers," vol. ii., p. 407.

t 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 forefathers, in the signature to which the name was spelled Combe. His family readopted the dropt letter.

PARENTAGE AND BIRTH.	5

Calder, and also the estate of Curriehill, in the parish of Currie, both lying from seven to ten miles southwest from Edinburgh. John Newton, his son, succeeded him as tenant of Curriehill; and afterwards acquired 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 Newton died on the 29th of September 1791, at the age of 76.

The heads of the Newton family, who became proprietors 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 neighbourhood, till the close of their male line in 1838.

These facts indicate a hereditary transmission of prudence, industry, and intelligence, with little ambition, through both of the lines of Andrew Combe's progenitors; 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 robust frame. Bilious and nervous in temperament, and endowed with a large brain, he was of an active and energetic character. There is extant a portrait of him, by Shiel, which represents the head as rather small in relation 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 intellect. His intellectual organs were well developed, but

PARENTAGE AND BIRTH.

the reflecting region predominated. His education extended only to reading, writing, mensuration, and bookkeeping: 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 Benevolence, combined with a constitutional temperance, which never forsook him. He felt acutely his own educational 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 intervals 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 Mystery of Sanctification," and similar works, furnished occupation for his thoughts after the stated services of the Church. His sensitiveness to his own educational imperfections 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 conspicuously manifested in his actions. He was modest and retiring, had an abhorrence of debt, and was so kindhearted that his brewery was the home of several halfwitted beings, who lent the labour of their muscles in the rudest kind of work, and whom he paid and supported 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 perceptive organs predominated slightly over the reflecting organs, giving her an eminently practical character

Benevolence, Cautiousness, Conscientiousness, and Firmness were largely developed, and in these qualities there was an entire harmony between her and her husband. At her marriage, although accomplished in almost 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 deficiencies arose from the neglect of her parents, who did not appreciate " book‑learning ;" for she was remarkably 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 lamented 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 1 9th 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

PARENTAGE AND BIRTH.

neighbouring poor, even when economy was severely enforced 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 family, 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 affection 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 appreciating her excellent qualities, and of making allowance for the circumstances in which she was placed.

At the time of his marriage, Andrew's father occupied the brewery of Newgrange, situated a short distance 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 subsequently increased to seventeen children, ofwhom thirteen survived till 1807. Immediately after birth, Andrew was transferred to the care of Mary Robertson, wife of John Robertson, tailor in the village of Corstorphine, a woman of extraordinary vigour, liveliness, and practical 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; certifying his condition in these emphatic terms:—" He

HIS FATHER'S PLACE OF RESIDENCE.

eats like a raven and sleeps like a dyke," i. e., lies as still as a wall.

Mary Robertson reared many children of the middle classes of Edinburgh, besides bringing up 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 exceeded the narrow limits of her vocabulary, and she invented words, pregnant with force and expression, while she talked. She was so judicious, active, and trustworthy, 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 village 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 particularly 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 Livingston'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 exhausted 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 AND BOYHOOD.

CHAPTER II.

ANDREW COMBE'S INFANCY AND BOYHOOD.

ANDREW COMBE was a lively, active, shrewd, and amusing child, and had a share of droll humour, 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 appointed 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 manBrown‑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. You may judge of the elegance 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, uttering a sound, in a sing‑song fashion, which I could interpret into nothing but ‘ Sir, my good treacle;'‑‘ Sir, my good treacle.' The result

12

INFANCY AND BOYHOOD.

was, sometimes, after two or three minutes' repetition, a sharpish order, ‘ Sit down, boys, and be quiet.' More frequently Mr Brown's goodnature 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 second 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 government of Mr Luke Fraser, now, however, an altered man. Age had made an impression on him, and he ruled with such a lax and unsteady hand, that disorder and amusement became the order of the day. In a short time one‑half of the boys betook themselves to Arthur'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 spectacles,' to detect offenders more easily, he assumed a more stern attitude, 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 disciplinarian, and more of a gentleman withal, than any of my former instructors.

" In October 1810, 1 entered the College, and attended the classes

INFANCY AND BOYHOOD.

13

for Latin and Greek, and I continued the same studies during the session 1811‑12. Professor ‑,whom I attended faithfully, taught me to forget the Latin faster than the mere lapse of time could account for. This result, real in itself, may have been caused by the drowsy monotony which prevailed in the class, by impaired mental activity, and the great rarity of examinations. Attendance, moreover, was so indifferently enforced, that my neighbour on the bench, who was present, in all, only a few days, received a more handsome certificate for regularity 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, however, 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 advanced 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 education ; 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 au education was in progress, which produced unexpected results.
Andrew Combe inherited from his mother a fine texture of body, and an active temperament; and from his father that element of continued perseverance indicated 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 bespoke confidence and affection in strangers. In Andrew these qualities were combined with a brain of full average 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 alllargely developed, Veneration and Benevolence slightly preponderating; while the organs of the animal propensities 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 natural refinement, and a predominant love of the pure, the useful, the beneficent, the beautiful, and the intellectual. The inferiority of the observing to the reflecting 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 concerning their nature, objects, and spheres of action, and also of proper training, or regular and consistent moral and intellectual discipline, Andrew, like the other children 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 fashion, by sympathy or practical collision; and thus early he learned, by experience, to distinguish differences of character and talents, to accommodate himself to various 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, Concentrativeness, Secretiveness, and the moral sentiments in him, he was, from an early age, prone to inward reflection and self judgment. In manhood he used frequently to lament the want of clear and consistent expositions 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 vernacular Scotch spoken, and the ordinary incidents of life and public news discussed; but there he saw, in his parents, 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 enjoyments 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, irrespective 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 father'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 combination of faculties. Had he been trained in a sphere in which conventional manners, literature, and accomplishments, were chiefly valued, and had he been excluded from the direct observation of nature, he might have been less deeply impressed with the paramount importance of studying natural causation, and less skilful in developing the laws of health.

It now became necessary that he should choose a profession. 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 naething." 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.

1(

him return the answer, " I'll no be naething." His father, never doubting that under this humour of expression there was a tacit approval of his selection of medicine, 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 Edinburgh, that he should receive Andrew under an indenture 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 dispensed to his own patients. The medicine‑room was called " the Shop," and there the apprentices compounded 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 prepared 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 induce Andrew to enter on his profession. His father assured Andrew that if he would name any other vocation which he preferred, he should not be asked to move one step in the intended career; but no answer was returned. George solicited and obtained his father's solemn promise, which was never known to be broken, that if Andrew would make trial of Mr Johnston's esta
		B

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 appointment for ten o'clock had been made with Mr Johnston, and his time was valuable, it became necessary either to resort to compulsion, or to abandon the arrangement altogether. It was, however, against all rule in the family to permit evasion of what was regarded 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 substitute Andrew's best coat and vest for the house‑garments 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 nott be allowed to conquer, seeing that he still assigned no reason for his resistance. 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, anal several hundred yards along the high road, before he placed a foot on the ground. His elder brother John, observing 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 Andrew's sense of shame prevailed, and he walked quietly. His father and George accompanied him to Mr Johnston'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 willingly!' I replied, that I had given him a solemn promise 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 condition 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 occurrence unfolds, shews how imperfect his mental training had been. His determined resistance indicates a strength of will, which, when more enlightened, became one great element of his success in life; while the equally resolute perseverance of his parents in overcoming his resistance, and insisting on his making a trial of his profession, 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:

	believe	1 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 affirmed, 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 skewing 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 medical practitioner sooner or later. I was pleased, too, with the destination. You notice my Wit and Secretiveness as being early predominant, 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 naetbing.' 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 altogether. 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 summer 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, without any interval, to Mr Johnston's shop. I felt grievously disappointed that I was not first allowed two or three weeks at Redheughs,t 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 Andrew's father, unwilling to let him go idle during all that time, obtained 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 understanding thoroughly what he saw or did, had, nevertheless, left useful impressions on his mind in regard to business habits and principles.

j‑ A farm near Corstorphine, then and still occupied by his cousin Mr George Comb.

INFANCY AND BOYHOOD.

y

bathing. I was first disappointed, and then threatened. This, with a considerable feeling of shyness to go to such a ‘ grand doctor' 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 excited for the boy; yet he does not say that he ever hinted at the real state of his feelings, or expressed a desire to go to the country for a few weeks. Why was he thus 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 duty, little opportunity was left for confiding interchange of sentiment and sympathy between the parents and the children; and, moreover, in the family circle, too little account was taken of feelings, when duty was in question. Andrew, therefore, 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 discredit on him in the family. Moreover, the father, mother, and children, were all equally unacquainted with the laws of health, and did not understand Andrew's condition. 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's part, of being misunderstood if they complained, an almost insurmountable barrier to confidential communication then existed between the two parties.

The following letter affords another striking nd

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 escaped; 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 was 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 fir‑ma, 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 succeeded 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 enabled 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 reached home, it was supposed that I had drunk it, and no questions were asked. Fortunately, my active locomotion prevented me from suffering 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 GOES TO RESIDE WITH HIS BROTHER GEORGE‑IS
BOUND APPRENTICE TO MR HENRY JOHNSTON, SURGEON IN EDINBURGH‑
MEAGRENESS OF HIS LITERARY ATTAINMENTS AT THIS PERIOD

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. “Bank Street. This, although 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, became an inmate of his brother's house. Their elder sister Jean accompanied them as mistress of the family; by which arrangement both brothers continued to enjoy 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 results 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 ill 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 God 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 gratitude, 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 underestimates his own powers, and ascribes too much to adventitious circumstances. The members of the family were late in reaching maturity; and from the predominance 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 obstacles, 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 ;round‑floor, and was thus secured

26	IS BOUND APPRENTICE TO A SURGEON.

as a protection against thieves) at the sunny face of nature, and longing 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 Subscription 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 similar aberration, that I sometimes effected an amount of good which would otherwise have been beyond my power. In some instances,

successfully warned young persons against falling into this error.'

" In 1813‑14, I attended the lectures of Dr John Barclay on Anatomy, 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 disposed to doubt whether the representations of the deficiencies 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 biographer. And when himself in a feeble condition, he often enlivened the passing hours in the same manner.

HIS EDUCATIONAL ATTAINMENTS.		2 7

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 Air Johnston, and went on a visit to some of his relations in Fife. He wrote to his brother George a letter descriptive 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 earnest 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 Edinburgh, of the present day, to express a thorough conviction, 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 Kircaldy, 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 Abernethy 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 off 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 2 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 arrived 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 111r Johnston's another week or two about the beginning of Septr. and I think that it would be as well to wait till then as if h was coming to Edinr. in a day or two to go I might be detained for some days. What would you advise me to do ?

28	HIS EDUCATIONAL ATTAINMENTS.

When the style of this letter is contrasted with that which Andrew Combe subsequently acquired, the most diffident student may take courage and pursue self‑cultivation with the hope of improvement. Andrew's faculties were late in attaining maturity, and, moreover, the system of leaching in his day was little calculated. to instruct him. At that time many schoolmasters only prescribed tasks to be learned by their pupils, the teaching being performed by private tutors; and these schoolmasters limited their own exertions to ascertaining whether the lessons had been learned, and to punishing the scholars who failed. Andrew did not receive the assistance of a tutor, and the tasks were generally 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 not so backward as he was. But in his case another evil existed. The instruction was not adapted to his particular combination of faculties. His preceptors taught him Greek and Latin words and rules, but neglected 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 read at the school contained valuable ideas, these were rarely made the subjects of observation or reflection. Words, syntax, and translation were all in all. The boys in whom the observing organs were large, and particularly 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 Comparison and Causality, remained unimproved; for, in those days, these faculties, particularly that of Causality, 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 composition, French, and Italian, excelled him immeasurably in literary attainments at this period.

Although the foregoing letter contains striking evidence of the deficiencies of Andrew's literary education, it affords no criterion of his general intellectual state. Hid mind had certainly imbibed many solid ideas, and among his familiars his conversation was varied, pregnant with sound sense and good feeling, and often displaying no little wit and humour.

The circumstances now mentioned serve to explain the great interest which Andrew took in the subject of education. 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 irksomeness 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 understand 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 seeing, hearing, tasting, and touching; which acts are followed by rapid intuitive perceptions of the qualities of

0 	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 impression on them until it be brought within the range of s their reflecting faculties. It becomes necessary, therefore, in teaching them a rule, if in grammar, to give them a reason for it; if in arithmetic, to explain on what principle it is founded; if in morals, not to rest it on mere authority, but to chew them why 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 solve boys of profound intellects and fine moral dispositions sat on the benches ,< dreary and desolate, without acquiring ideas or gratification. They were considered as irretrievably dull,.: and left the school stupified and demoralized rather than improved. The correctness of this representation is not contradicted by the fact, that of the recorded,duxes at the High School of Edinburgh some stand registered 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 Andrew 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 one 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 Newton had, in all, seventeen 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 account of the illness of his eldest son, died suddenly of apoplexy on the 29th of September 1815, in his seventyfirst year.
During these occurrences Andrew lent his best aid and kindest sympathies to cheer and sustain his relatives ; 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, however, by enlarged knowledge, he became capable of observing 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 deprivation of happiness which his father's family and himself had sustained in consequence of their want of knowledge; and this feeling became a constant excitement to him during life to endeavour to save other families from similar calamities. The following letter was addressed by him to George, in reply to a request that he ‑l1onld 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 neglect 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 scrofulous disease and impaired constitutions in us. My book on Infancy shews this in a very clear light. Our parents erred from sheer ignorance ; but what are we to think of the mechanical and tradesmanlike 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 knowledge, 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 individual 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 profess j sion. In those days empiricism reigned

the family medical adviser did not inquire into, or con‑ï rider the remote or exciting causes of the maladies'' of his patients, but attacked only the symptoms

rented to him. When these were overcome, his t was accomplished. The patients might return to habits which had given rise to them, unwarned of consequences. Nature alone was considered to be, in fault. Medical skill was her opponent, but

guide. It was the practice in this family, when " dam

FAMILY AT LIVINGSTON'S YARDS.		33

ger" became imminent, to call in the late Dr James Gregory to consultation with the ordinary medical attendant; 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, Andrew gives the following picture of his own mental condition in early life.

" I had," says he, " 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. 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 sacrifice 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 omnipotent 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 enlightened education. It was, however, a great evil, and upon me it operated in producing a distrust of myself, from an idea of my unworthiness, 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 gratification.

" In my earliest reading days, I purchased, with one shilling and sixpence of hoarded ‘ handsets' (New‑year's gifts), a small volume of moral and very simple plays, in which, of course, goodness prospered and was honoured, and vice 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 influencing others to good. If I could only succeed in being good myself, and in venerating good in others, and pleasing C‑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 believing 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 Aikman, a mason, when the new kill 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

parish, commonly called the " West Church" of Edinburgh. His personal character 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 high congregation. When clergymen become acquainted with Phrenology, they wilt, understand the relationship between particular doctrines and particular endowments 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 thorough) these are cultivated and directed to their natural objects, the less are stern d ;s trines of any kind calculated to benefit him. The sincerity and sensibility  ascompanying strong moral and intellectual faculties, lead the young to embrace literally whatever they are taught by those whom they respect; but if the d 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 disagreeable emotions.

ANDREW COMBE'S MENTAL CONDITION.		3 5

stone he laid down upon another, the intense wish came upon me, ‘ Oh that I were that stone, to be sure of never living again, and never going 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 began slowly to slide down in spite of every exertion, when to my horror I saw the mouth 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 welldisposed 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, surrounded 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 teaching religion. The threatenings of hell‑fire terrified and bewildered without improving me. The spirit of love 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 duty. But 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 intellectual qualities of the family, and the harmony in which they have always lived, under all the disadvantages 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 a 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 feeling of enjoyment as sinful, and as indicative of something 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 r 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 Calvinistic 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

ANDREW COMBE'S MENTAL CONDITION.		3%

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 hellfire.* When charged with inconsistency for doubting on these points, he used to say, " It may be very wrong, but I cannot help it." This skewed 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 present 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 communion 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 deliver 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 flame their lives according to the light of nature, or the laws of that religion 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 torments 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 evangelical divines of Scotland in the last century, and is still practically believed by many of the Scotch people, who, when an infant becomes seriously indisposed; 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 trammel s 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 Britain 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 children 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 doctrine

alluded to do not produce the same effects on all mind There is a combination of faculties to which they are agreeable, and it is through the influence of this clas that they are maintained in authority.

The continuation of Andrew's narrative shews that benevolence and humanity were in him indigenous qualities :—
" Before I forget," says he, " I may mention here a strong featu of my mind‑the aversion I have ever felt to contention and fighting both physical and moral, and which sometimes made me unduly avers 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 in

‑

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) uses

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 during 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 correctness. 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 immediate 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 required 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 Destructiveness, 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, however, were larger than those of Destructiveness ; and these, when aided by his moral and intellectual convictions, and supported by his Self‑Esteem and Firmness, enabled him to act with vigour in repelling any invasion of what he considered his just rights, and also firmly to oppose conduct which he regarded as unprincipled and injurious to others, from whomsoever it proceeded.

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 Collections.

10

CONTINUES HIS STUDIES.

CHAPTER V.

ANDREW COMBE CONTINUES HIS STUDIES‑TAKES A DIPLOMA FROM THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF SURGEONS OF EDINBURGH‑AFTERWARDS PROCEEDS 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 v apprenticeship he did see a little practice, particularly in the workhouse of St Cuthbert's parish, of which Mr Johnston was the medical attendant. But it was to x the medical classes and attendance at the public hospital, that he was chiefly indebted for his professional education ; and from experience, as well as from subsequent observation and reflection, he was ever afterwards averse to the apprenticeship system. His own narrative proceeds thus :

" On 4th February 1817, I passed at Surgeons' Hall, at what I then fancied rather a late age, 19,1 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 cannot, 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

CONTINUES HIS STUDIES.

41

set aside, when they have not the good sense to resign after their efficïency 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 “the philosophy of mind," which dazzled and captivated the young. His method of investigation seemed so truly Baconian, and the objects pursued were so dignified 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 chapter, 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 practically applied in elucidation of the phenomena of life, or in the guidance of the understanding in the arena of business. 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 natural termination. These expectations were kept alive by Mr Stewart's magnificent promises of something important that was yet to be unfolded. George endeavoured to apply the doctrines with which he had thus become acquainted, in enlightening and expanding Andrew's mind, and tried to inspire him with a becoming love of mental science‑with what success will immediately 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 George had learned from his metaphysical studies, had failed to give him a glimpse
of the peculiar constitution of Andrew's mind, of his o mind, of the differences between them, of the object 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 formed of my own talents and worth, and from the mist in which large organ of Wonder in my own brain enveloped me, and the manner in which it caused me to magnify the merits of all others not intimately known to me, and from the natural inspirations of an 'act"' Cautiousness and Secretiveness, it was not till after I became acquainted 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 tome. I ever shrunk from being conspicuous in any way, in the belief that I could not sustain a high position properly. We were so well drilled to humiliity by being called ‘ blockheads' at home, that I never felt encourage to take a brighter view of my own capabilities. Being nearly youngest in a numerous family, in which talent was not scarce, at

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 conspicuous place of dux. Your own ready command of your ideas, and facility of utterance and composition, so different from the difficulty I eras 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, probably in 1814. You expressed your disappointment at my silence in company, and my not engaging in conversation on 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 mortified 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 perceive.

" 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 arrangement 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 you, 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 advantages 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 development), 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 sensible, amiable, and affectionate, although excessivel 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 acquire clearer views of themselves and of each other.

In the 49th Number of the Edinburgh Review, put lished in July 1815, a " tremendous article," as it was then styled, appeared against the Physiognomical System of Drs Gall and Spurzheim.	' 

It was known to 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 believe, to be a " settler" of the question. Dr Spurzheim, w happened to be then lecturing in Dublin, no sooner re it, than he resolved to visit Edinburgh, and challenge the reviewer to a public dissection of the brain, and discussion of the subject; and he speedily fulfilled his resolution. 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 attend 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 Edinburgh, 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 necessary. Germany was then known in Great Britain chiefly through translations of " The Sorrows of Werter," and the most extravagant and trashy novels of that country. In Edinburgh, men of education regarded it as the height of combined impudence and absurdity, for a " German" to pretend to have made discoveries 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 furnishes the key to the tone of that now extraordinary article, which daguerreotyped effectually the state of medical and metaphysical knowledge concerning the brain and its functions, then possessed by the most accomplished 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 eminence 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 maintain the position which the Review had adopted in 1815 ; and the result of these articles and other causes has been, that the University of Edinburgh still ignores most of Dr Gall's discoveries. In the department of philosophy, she glories in teaching logic and moral philosophy, 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 terminated, and neither George nor Andrew had entered the door of his hall, or even seen him; when, by mere acct dent, a young advocate accosted George in the street and asked him whether he would like to see Dr Spurzheim dissect a human brain in his house. gladly accepted the invitation, and soon saw brain dissected by Dr Spurzheim exhibited a structure very different from that which had been described the Edinburgh Review. He discovered also, that Spurzheim, so far from being an impudent and mendacious quack, as represented in the Review, was a markably quiet, modest, and intelligent man, an acute observer, and logical reasoner on all subjects con with human nature. He therefore attended his ; course of lectures, and was deeply interested 1 views presented to his consideration. Without bet led away by enthusiasm, he saw, from the first, that new doctrines, if true, were eminently practical; and earnestly and deliberately, and through many difficulties, set about the task of ascertaining whether nature supported them or not. The result is detailed in works which he subsequently published on Phrenology. 
	George soon became intimately acquainted with Spurzheim, and, being honoured with his friendship, .; consulted him about the best method of completing Andrew's professional instruction. For the first ti in his life, he obtained some practical information on subject of education, founded on the combined science of physiology and

mental philosophy. Andrew, in

brain, she teaches it without recognising their physiology, or the connection between particular mental powers and particular portions that organ; and in her theological department, she repudiates the acknowledgment of cerebral organization as exerting a practical science on the primitive dispositions and capacities of individuals.

CONTINUES HIS STUDIES.

47

continuation of his letter to George last quoted, describes 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 improvement, and thus gradually opened my mind to their inherent importance, 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 forget, 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 master 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 Eventuality; 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 Phrenology, 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 oitt, 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 conceived 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, without 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 give a particular account of his voyage in a sailing smack, and of the wonders which the English metropolis presented 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 le
ter of 15th August 1814, copied on p. 27. One objec which lie describes as diversifying the scenery of th Thames, can no longer be seen, and its removal indicate' the progress of civilization. After mentioning the Hulk , at Woolwich, he adds :—'‘ A little farther up we sa about eight men hung in chains, on the banks of th river; two of them Blacks, for murdering their captain and four smugglers, for running down a custom‑hou

PROCEEDS TO PARIS.		49

boat, and chopping off the officers' hands, when they attempted 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 15th October 1817, is addressed to his brother George. It contains a sentence which is curious, 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 wellselected English terms; but he and his relatives, during their whole lives, spoke with so strong a 'Scotch accent, that occasionally they were unintelligible to English auditors not accustomed to their tones. Andrew 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 beggar both in London and Paris, and his disappointment the first aspect of the narrow and dirty streets of t

French capital. This letter is characteristic of 1

mind. He took an interest in everything, and descril the country from London to Dover, and from Calais Paris, noticing the differences between England as France, in the fields, cattle, horses, ploughs, carriage and people. He also describes graphically his passengers.

His next letter, dated Paris, 22d October 1817also addressed to George, is written in French, and mentions that he had occasionally breakfasted with Dr Spurzheim, and "soon discovered that he was a keen observer, and a man of solid judgment, and upright, feelings." From him he received advice on all respecting the employment of his time, and the studies he should pursue. He describes his first visit to Hotel Dieu, or great public hospital for the the condition of which he was much pleased. " I never was in such excellent health as at preset and have a great appetite, and am said to be fat."

In the following letter, dated Paris, 16th 181'7, addressed to his sister Jean, he gives an account of the employment of his time. It may interest young reader, although to more experienced persons will present little that is not familiarly known.

" I will begin," says he, " with telling you how I live at present 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 late. The surgeon is at the Hotel Dieu at half‑past six o'clock, begins his visit, which occupies from two hours to two hours and half. After the visit, he gives a most excellent lecture, four, '" a‑week. I understand him better than any other lecturer. tore, when them is no operation, generally finishes about

HIS STUDIES 1N 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 Pitié, which is almost half‑anhour's walk off. We remain there till four or half‑past four; dine from flue 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 Medecine free for the students, they do not give us the books home; 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 be at 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 remove 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," 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. Not 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, 1 have acted.on the principle 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 correct 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 Pitié; which are both more comfortable and convenient than the public ones.. They are drier, cleaner, and one can exclude idle men, and instruments, &c. We four have joined to hire one of them. 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 predicted that the University of Edinburgh would lose its reputation when the Continent was thrown open, as the opportunities for anatomical 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 1
	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

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 wondered 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 Combe 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 PostOffice, 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 disappointment, when letters from home did not arrive on the days when he expected them. He says, for, instance,

" Every day when I came in, I thought the letter must be here today, 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, addressedto his sister Margaret, exhibits an example in point. It introduces us also into the circle of his social amusements 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

c,

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 fro seeing six dried snakes hanging up in his study, along with the dried crabs,‑quite conclusive as to the fact, in my mind, at leas where I saw some young ladies, and very amiable. As I like to

gin at the right end of my story, I ask if you know the ‘Fête de Reis.' It is a fête observed in every family, from the king's down wards. A dinner takes place, at which an immense pastry‑cake I presented, and cut into pieces. In one part of it is a bean, and whoever gets the piece with the bean in it is proclaimed king or queen and he presides over the dinner. When the king drinks, all tL company bawl out, ‘ Le roi boit, le roi boit,'‑when he finishes, ‘ I roi a bu ;' and so for the queen. The king elects a queen, et vii versa. On these occasions everybody is gay. I was asked to lei Schmidt's fête ; we got our cake, and could not find the bean;

ate

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 hi Majesty forthwith; and I had the honour of being elected his Majesty. 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 vg much, and in the evening we went to visit the philosopher. On enterng, we found a dozen of them just at their dessert. Madame and Mr demoiselle were covered with kisses (as they always are), and then 9

LOVE OF HOME.

55

sat down. Though we had dined heartily, the old gentleman insisted 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 believe they forgot even to tell who I was. If he was a philosopher, he svgs not at all averse to enjoying the good things allowed us by Providence 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 purpose. Madame S. danced for the first time since her marriage (eighteen years ago), with a gentleman's hat on her head, to sustain her character 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 minutes would finish it. Madame S. was here kissed often, first as gentleman, 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 imitation; 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 ceremony. 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 run 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 arrows of 'le pent 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.

56

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 assistance 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, the French are still incapable of making leather, and, of course, shoes !"

In the year 1818, this last remark was literally correct; 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 following terms v

" I must tell you an incident that occurred the other day at the i Hotel Dieu. Monsieur Dupuytren was scolding a Frenchman who happened to be standing behind an Englishman, Dr M., and the latter, 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 v 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 following reply was returned:—' Je verrai toujours avec plaisir 'Mons.. a M. suivre mes visites et mes leçons. Je le prie d'agréer l'assurance de ma parfaite consideration. DUPUYTEREN. And thus ended the malentendu. 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. .s That there are some, I have no doubt, because I see them ;but upom 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

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. '1’o 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 off. 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 âne, ce West pas un cheval.' ‘ You ride upon a nice ass, then, instead of a horse, do you?' ‘ Ali, 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, ‘ Estce gros comme ça !' 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, Dupuytren 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 progress, his remedies, and the reasons of his treatment, without regard to his own convenience and comfort ; For he must breakfast either before 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 instructions, but must attend other professors and different hospitals. In future, I mean to keep my mind as open to their good qualities as to

58 	PROFESSOR DUPUYTREN.

" Ludicrous incidents," he continues, " occasionally present themselves in the Hospital. A patient who had all but recovered from a 7 broken arm, stole out one day without leave, just to see how the world 3 was going on. As he was staring at some object, a cabriolet rode hire 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 hag a powerful head. He has large organs of Individuality, Eventualityj° 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 hay; no sympathy for a poltroon. As long as the patients suffer quietly, hey acts as if he were their guardian angel ; but when they complained especially when 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 i this eminent operator ; for a patient is relieved by cry. ing aloud under a severe operation. When acute pa' , is felt, the nervous system receives a shock, the e effects of which are increased by the efforts used not tc give way to nature and cry .

In a letter to his sister Margaret, dated Paris, 6t April 1818, in reference to his studies, he says

"On 26th March I finished my dissections ; and I confess, for th edification of my friends at home, that before beginning, I thoug myself afar better anatomist than I do now, after four months pret constant application. I am amazed to discover the vagueness of th notions which I had mistaken for a complete knowledge of the huma structure ; but now I feel a degree of confidence in myself to perform operations of which I was previously afraid. However, I have on a kind of confidence yet, which I must, if possible, increase by pr tice here."

s

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, class

FRENCH MEDICAL STUDENtSS.

59

fying it under the different heads of expenses of education, 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 bag, and see what your sister has put there !' I looked accordingly, and generally found what I wanted. This skews 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 botany. 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 Ecole de Médecine, 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 following 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 Faculté des Sciences."

In the summer of 1818, he attended a course of Lectures 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 entered." " I go to the Hôpital St Louis, for diseases of the skin, where clinical lectures are given by Mons. Alibert, a very celebrated man in France." 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 I"

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 characterise so many of those at the Ecole de Médecine. Many men get a name here for very slender attainments. Richerand, whose Physiology 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 discover 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 Abbé Sicard's examination of the Deaf and Dumb, and been greatly interested by the attainments of the pupils. Their definition of difficulty, he says, was “possibilité avec obstacle."
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 appearance:—

" 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 lam ‘ 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‑,'° and 90° all forenoon 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 Roi, 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 disagreeable 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 mentioned passing into the acetous fermentation in his stomach, owing to weakness of digestion, afterwards removed 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 resolved 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 suet 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 alludes to his professional prospects in the following,? terms:—

	If If our two heads are not of the same conformation nearly, I thinlf they should be, for it is a rare occurrence to find us differing in on views; but then we are not both doctors. I thank you sincerely fo 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. H
the war continued, it might have been an easier matter to provide fti' myself than at present, when medical men are swarming everywher But still, I should not have wished his Majesty's ministers to continu the war for my sake. It only remains for me, without being t much discouraged, to endeavour to make myself useful. If the life a medical man has any sweets, and, like others, it must have som the pleasure of being the means of relieving a fellow‑creature, eve of the lowest grade, from suffering, is certainly none of the leas Though I have done no great things, yet even in my small practice have tasted some half hours which I would not have exchanged f any consideration. I cannot expect, as it were, to jump into practi but I shall do my best to make it the interest of people to employ m Still the thought gives me a little uneasiness, lest, in spite of my e deavours, I should not succeed. My residence in Paris will tell in
favour, as there is a tendency in most persons to imagine that kno ledge and experience gained in a foreign country are superior to tb of home‑growth. They magnify the objects which they see only di as through a glass."

He felt and gratefully acknowledged every act
kindness shewn to him by any one. Almost every letti

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:,, thank you for your last‑mentioned compliment of ‑C10. 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 constitution, 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 expressing 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, W. and G., 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 happ 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 pauca loquitur;' but in my opinion, although he may bÎ 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 an_ spirits. Now that I have fairly discussed myself, what books woul 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 then a delightful large park, and the road was crowded with carriages a u'1 pedestrians. The evening was beautifully fine, and every body wsu merry as usual. It gave me great pleasure to see the people happy and enjoying themselves; so that, although I do not dance myself, liked much to see every body else in motion." " I have been to MaTh also, St Germain, and other places. Little pedestrian excursions like these, with one or two good companions, are delicious enjoyment We are only sorry that we have nearly exhausted the neighbourhooi, of Paris, except to the south.

" If you find this letter dull, you must know, that I have suppre much nonsense which I was going to write, to make way for graver su jects ; but here are some little bits for you. George says that Madalm 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 ha been at first, it is now getting time to wear off, as unfortunately I ha seen her only once since I described her, and did not see her to‑d8 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 walki ' with Mademoiselle H. and her father, and I very gallantly offered h my arm, which she accepted. But, 0 dolor! after stretching her a as far as she could, she succeeded in attaining to mine only with t ends of her two middle digits, and then from my gigantic stature oil of my steps equalled five or six of hers, so that, do as I liked, we coin not keep the step, but jostled and annoyed each other, till at last v 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.

Iv the autumn of 1818 Andrew Combe commenced a serious investigation of Phrenology; and in his letters to his relations, he gives numerous and interesting details 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, but I know it better. Dr Spurzheim and his wife are very kind to the 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 burst of ridicule 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. :4Iy 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 l
	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 ofd

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 attent~= two courses of lectures delivered by Dr Spurzheim, at Paris, on th K Anatomy, Physiology, and Pathology of the Brain and Nervous S tem, during one of which rather a striking confirmation of his doctrine occurred. In the middle of the lecture of 1st December 1818i

a brain was handed in, with a request that Dr Spurzheim would sa what dispositions it indicated, and he would then be informed ho rv far he was correct. Dr Spurzheim took the brain without any he a 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, conaj stitution, or education of the individual, all of which it was essenti for him to be aware of before drawing positive inferences; he addo~' that, nevertheless, he would give an opinion on the supposition th~ the brain had been a sound one, and endowed with ordinary activity,~ after which, he proceeded to point out the peculiarities of develo, ment which it presented."

After giving the details of the case, which our limit prevent us from quoting, Dr Combe goes on to say, tha altogether, the close coincidence between the facts, wit

ANDREW COMBE STUDIES PHRENOLOGY.		67

which he himself happened to be familiar, and the remarks 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 themselves, and gave rise to numerous doubts. In extending my observations, however, for the purpose of substantiating these objections, natural solutions so invariably presented themselves, one after another, in proportion as they were scrutinized, that, after two years' experience, the conviction of the truth of the fundamental principles, and of the correctness of the functions ascribed to many of the larger organs, became irresistible ; while I still hesitated in regard to several of the smaller organs, the evidence of which I had not sufficiently examined. Actuated by the natural feeling of improbability that so much should have been discovered in so short time by only two individuals, however eminent their talents and felicitous their opportunities, 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 Gall 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 whale 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 confirmation 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

7 ()	LETTERS FROM PARIS.

plied, is conspicuous, even although he occasionally complains 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 ! quo Monsieur Combe est aimé ! On l'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 e,uriched. Another trait of character may be adverted to in connection with this subject. There was in hi an earnestness and affectionateness of disposition, a intellectual perspicacity, and a general soundness o judgment, which thus early inspired his correspondent with respect as well as liking for him; and led them t preserve his letters to an extent probably rare in th

case of so young a man, and one wholly undistinguishei by name, connections, or prospects. In the same letter he continues:

“My friend C‑ (whom he had lately introduced to his famiI' tells me that you are very kind to him. I knew you would be so,

I may add that all that kindness to him is set down in my book more than the same kindness to myself; for although in general su ciently attentive to myself, yet I can on due occasions prefer anoth When I think on the kindness already shown to me, I cannot expr the satisfaction I feel. Indeed you could never imagine that suelitx happy interior existed tinder the covering of such a sober face."

His letters abound with remarks on the feelings

LETTERS FROM PARK.

71

the French towards the English at the time of his residence in Paris, and he mentions many amusing instances 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 degrading. nature of the charges brought by them against his coutry, 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 be 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 ; but glory and philosophy make a curious compound, and glory and glauber‑salts are more ridiculous still." *   *  *  *  "There is," he adds, " a difference between 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 forehead 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 situations 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 countrv.

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 unnecessary 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,

ES4UIROL'S LECTURES ON INSANITY.

after describing the extent to which the views of insanity presented by Dr Esquirol, in his lectures at the Salpétrière, 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 Phrenology, 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 aliené who drew his conclusions badly. It was in general upon the facts that he was mistaken; and supposing the facts to be as the aliené apprehended them, his conclusions were perfectly sound. For example, at la Salpétrière, a middleaged country woman and a young girl slept in the same cell. The t girl, although generally quiet, had a strait waistcoat on. One morning she was found dead, and the other sitting, with her arms crossed, quite composedly looking at her. Marks of violence were found on the h body. The woman was asked, Did you kill the girl ? ‘ Q,u'oui !' dit9 ells. ‘ Mais pourquoi ?' ‘ Je n'en sail 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 Esquirol 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 é Esquirol, ‘ true reasoning, false facts, ignorance of motives at the time,. and unconsciousness of them afterwards, while the insanity lasted.'5 The striking feature of these cases is, that during the disease the in‑1 <lividual is unconscious of his motives, and says, with every appear ance of truth, that he does not know why ho did the deed; but after his recovery, what he was unconscious of during his illness become clear and present to his mind. How can we explain these phene

Esquirol appears to have regarded the foregoing cast as one purely of intellectual delusion ; but if a con jecture might be hazarded as to the source of the woman's mistake, the present writer would be disposes

ESQUIROL'S LECTURES ON INSANITY.		73

to assign it to a morbid excitement of the organs of Destructiveness, 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 conflict of opinion between the judges and the jury concerning 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 murders, 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 1VI’Naughten.*

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, 1 think that, notwithstanding my quiet turn, I could now speak for an hour or two very well." j

He continues :

" I have just read the French translation of Lady Morgan's work

On Prance. What a deal of imagination ! She has seen much of what

* See also pp. 304, 305, and 386 of same volume ; and vol, xvü., pp. 33, 36, 89, 101, 102, 292 ; xvüi., 375 ; xix., 227, 249, 347 ; xx., 162.‑On the general subject of insanity in relation to crime, Dr Combe published two papers, in vol. iii., 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 ANIÎRIEU%.

she describes with her oculi interni; and both she and Sir Charles, writes three appendices, are often at open war with my ideas. The cons clusions of the lady and her husband are sometimes at variance alsoa' with their own facts, and their translator respects neither of them ! »

In mentioning the lectures of Andrieux

literature, he commends not only his discriminative
talents as a critic, but his justice and impartiality n j
dealing with historical personages and events. As az
example, he reports part of his lecture on Joan of Arc
The Professor condemned, as inconsistent with all
rect notions of beauty, the heavy armour,
large stand of colours usually thrust upon
of the Maid of Orleans by painters and sculptors
then proceeded to mention her history.

" ‘ On dit nue ce sont les Anglais qui font sacrifiée; on dit; mais ce n'est pas vrai. Ce sont les Français euxmêmes qui l 'o perdue. The Duke of Burgundy sold her to the Duke of Luxe bourg ; he to another. Then the Bishop of Beauvais insisted on try ing her for sorcery. Judges were sent from Paris. They condemns her to be burnt. Nor,' said he, ‘ was this all; but the learned faculties of Paris were consulted, and all of them reported in favour burning her except the faculty of medicine and another,' of which did not hear distinctly the name. The English auditors were great pleased with this piece of justice ; but the Frenchmen hung them heads, and not a sound was heard in approbation of the speaker."

Afterwards, he observes that " in another part his lectures Professor Andrieux exposed the bad effec of conducting education by means of emulation, an condemned the evil passions called forth by vanit ‘ On noun reproche,' dit il, 1 à nous autres Français d'avoir beaucoup de vanité. Il faut en convenir, no somlnes tres vains,"' &c. In forming of emulation as a motive in education, drieuxwas in advance of his age; for, even in the preset day, few teachers have faith in the pleasures

FRENCH SOCIETY.

75

Cages of knowledge, as capable of affording to the young

sufficient motives to exertion, unless 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 regard to Newgate at least, his description falls short of the truth. It is really a hell upon earth ; and never did the Reverend David Dickson's descriptions of that abode bring home to my mind the horrors of pandemonium so forcibly as did my visit to N ewgate. Last summer I tried to gain admittance to two prisons here, but was repulsed, except on complying with one of two conditions,‑either, lst, to commit a crime, and come with an order from the Prefet to receive and detain me; or, 2dly, 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 us of barbarism and rudeness in sending 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 themselves 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 A‑lorga observed, ‘ chez les princesses et gens du bon ton aussi.' Such man ners are worse than the English fashion of sending the ladies away t a room by themselves.
	" By the way, I must tell you a great compliment paid to m
by Monsieur and Madame	I often walk with them an
their daughter in the Champs Elysées ; but one day lately they al
lowed me to conduct Mademoiselle to the Mint alone. It is very u
common in Paris for a young lady to be permitted to walk alone wit
any gentleman except a brother; but Monsieur ‑ said
knew me to be biers sage."
" I fear that I shall never be able to like the French. So often, s very often, do we meet with rubs and spite against the English, that i is hard to bear, and harder still to love the authors of such abuse. can admire in them all that I find better than in our people at homy and there is much to be admired. I can give them credit, also, fo many good qualities: but I cannot like them. I have never heard Frenchman abuse Scotland; generally they speak well of it;
b

when they speak evil of ‘ les Anglais,' of course the Scotch are its, eluded. When they praise Scotland to me, I am much inclined regard it as all flattery, and to believe that, behind my back, th would praise England to an Englishman, if they wished particularÎ~ to please him."

At the time when these letters were written, humiliation of France, by the then recent Paris and the dethronement of Napoleon, greatly e]C~ asperated the French people against the British ; bu nevertheless, there was probably a certain degree t sincerity in their commendations of Scotland; for hip torical recollections of the ancient alliances betwee the latter country and France still lingered in the m~ mories of the French, and gave rise to a more feeling towards Scotchmen, as portions of the nation, than that entertained towards the English they selves.
George had remarked, in a letter, that one of

drew's Parisian fellow‑students, who had subsequenti come to Edinburgh, was very amiable, but appeared 1 be rather deficient in general information. In allnsi~

LETTERS FROM PARIS.

77

to this subject, Andrew, on 8th March 1819, wrote as follows:—

,1 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 trouvez vows 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 Combo'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 drôle, 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 ? r o' 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."

Îg

DEATH OF MRS COINIB.

" I have examined the Institution for the Blind here, from lars to the garret, seen the boys at work, and obtained a large folic sheet of their printing, and greatly admire the Institution attainments.
" Have you mentioned your project of lecturing on Phrenology t' any one ? I should be afraid to open my mouth before half a scor of people. Yon seem to be preparing in good time."

He occasionally overworked himself, and was visi by languor (which he mistook for an idle disposition and depression. On 28th March 1819 he writes was depressed abort a fortnight, and gradually vered but now I am in better spirits."

Although at this time he had nearly completed wha would generally be reckoned a good professional educ; tion,‑yet he had not learned from any of his preceptor the practical application of the principles of medicü to the regulation of the habits of daily life ; ' ' ' then and subsequently, he suffered serious evils frog practical inattention to the laws of health. l course of years he profited by his sufferings, them to their causes, and devoted his energies to ing others how to apply the knowledge of the hum. constitution supplied by science, to warding "" as to recovering from, disease.
In the spring of 1819 the health of‑=his mother

gar to decline, but for some time no serious appr hensions were entertained concerning her conditio Her ordinary medical attendant treated rangement of the digestive system, and an improvement of health with the advance of su mer. Her son George, however, at length suspect the existence of chronic inflammation of the liver, at~ requested that Dr James Gregory might be called to consultation. He came, and confirmed this. st picion, and treated her accordingly. But

DEATH OF AIRS COMB.

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 181. 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 Dlay 1819.
" MY DEAR GEORGE,‑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 conceive, what I find but 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 illness than you mentioned, even from your manner of expressing it. Then, I really believed it was only a slight bilious attack, and repressed 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 mach affected. You say she always thought that ‘vas 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 have 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 armchair at the fireside, holding an ideal conversation, and amusing .her with all the wonders I had seen, and perhaps causing a smile of satisfaction from my improved health and strength. Only two days ago, ill 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,

* Airs 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 suffering by my attention, at least, if not by my power of relieving them. Thin hope and this pleasure are now fled, and never shall I have an oppor* tunity of showing my gratitude for what she has done for me.
" Still, to me it is no small consolation, that though absent, 1 was i some measure present and useful, from the services, attentions, an kindness of my friend C‑; and it is pleasing to me to learn, tha in her last moments she was soothed by the attentions of my frien~ Give C‑ my most sincere thanks; I will like him the better for i
" I cannot figure to myself that my mother is dead. I left her i
LT.. ,1 T 1,..
the 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 would have been anxious to hear every day; and though the blow I heavier, better so than fourteen days' anxiety and uncertainty."

parlour, and there I involuntarily go to seek her.

In subsequent letters he makes frequent and allusions to his mother, one example of which m; cited. Writing, on the 4th of June, to his sister Jeal

he says:—

	, In returning from Passy we had a grand thunder‑storm,
middle of the Champ de Mars the death of my mother struck me wit
more force even than on receiving George's letter. There was soml
thing so solemn and grand in the awful peals of thunder and broâ
sheets of lightning, diversified occasionally by	‘L’_
my imagination became excited, and at every
clouds as if to penetrate through them, and, by the vivid lightnin
once more to see her whom I fancied to be stationed beyond them"

To this letter he added a postscript in

addressed to George, which does so much credit to h affectionate and just appreciation of his sister's merit that it may be pardonable to quote it here, relates to another member of the family :—

" I always," says he, " had a favourable opinion of our sister J ear talents for letter‑writing, but her last letter, and one which she se to me about six months ago, have given me a higher estimate of the still. I read these letters often, and particularly the last one,

CONTINUES HIS STUDIES AT PARIS.		81

always with pleasure. I would tell her this plainly, had she not requested 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 shorthand, 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 practical lessons of patience and resignation under the rending asunder of the cords of domestic affection. Andrew, therefore, endeavoured to find consolation to his wounded feelings in the discharge of the duties imposed on him by 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 ‘ quo je sues been mechant, et quo 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 Natural Philosophy, and he said to me lately, ‘ Spend your last Louis, if necessary, in acquiring knowledge ; what you learn is worth more than the money. 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 leave 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 consideration of its being the first offence."

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 writes:

	The The course of midwifery which I am at present following, wouldfi afford materials for the finest piece of burlesque, or mock heroic writ. ing that ever was produced. The matter is excellent; .but the professor has a great organ of Veneration, and not a little Wit ; and the F he contrives to combine in his discourses. He is a very sensible man but he sees ‘ le coté ridicule' of everything. He told u§,, for e,‑t4mpl
Dr Gall
'~ ‑" He told us also, that â young wözna

on the occasion of her first confinement in the Hospital, was so asti nished by her sufferings, that she bawled out, ‘ Murder !' ‘ murder as loud as she could roar ; and continued so urgently to cry, that at length the guard forced their way into the ward, an

tt~ demanded who was killing the woman? The students explained th' 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 pen de courage !' and then retired."

In a letter dated 29th June, he mentions 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 mucâ crowded. I should like very much to attend him, in how far he and Dr Spurzheim differ ; but his hour that of another course of lectures in which I am already engaged, ag I am thus prevented from attending."

In the same letter he makes the following remarl on some of his own mental faculties :

" Did you observe how much of the organ of Tune I had, bet leaving home ?*' I was always fond of some kinds of music pally of what the French call enjouée (an expression which translate into English), and also of sweet melodious melancholy m~ I may add that the organ appears to have grown a

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 shyness, bashfulness, or mauvaise honte. It is the fear of compromising himself, in the opinion of himself and others, by doing or saying something unworthy of himself, that causes the embarrassment in an individual thus constituted. Some persons, however, are shy from a constitutional feebleness of cerebral organization, which makes them shrink instinctively from all contact with unknown circumstances.

In this and some other letters, Andrew accuses himself of " laziness," and mentions his being in ‑the dumps." His constitution was naturally remarkably active, and the " laziness " was probably mere lassitude, arising from exhaustion of the brain after overexertion. We have already seen evidence of his ceaseless activity in study; to the effects of which must be added the fatigue and exhaustion occasioned by frequent and extensive pedestrian excursions during the heat of summer, undertaken partly in pursuit of botanical objects, and partly for social enjoyment in visiting his friends in the environs of Paris. In his letters,

8a‑

he makes no allusion to the natural connection b eä tween these exertions and the "laziness" which he felt

VISIT TO SWITZERLAND.

That his course of life was the cause of that feeling, rendered more probable by his letter of the 29th June, in which he says :—‑‑

VISIT TO SWITZERLAND.

" 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 shaking sometimes ; and one day I had, during five minutes, dimneR of sight and confusion of ideas. Starvation and salts have relieved m~ I am not sick, for I have always been at my classes and other occupy tions as before, with this difference, that I fell asleep once or twice i an hour. I have got a severe cold also, by night attendance at ti Lying‑in Hospital. But don't be afraid; I am not going to walk oa of the world this time yet."

It is deserving of remark, that in none of his does he allude to having applied his scientific knowled to the regulation of his own habits, with the view preserving his health, as he subsequently did, when, increased sagacity and experience, he had discovered iprophylactic uses. He had not been taught to make th

application by his professional instructors; and, impell by the ardour of youth, and not yet rendered wisp experience, he proceeded to gratify his tastes nearly; unmindful of the laws of health as if none ~w°'' ~'"

existed.
After having completed his studies, instead of seek', temporary relaxation to recruit his diminished energi he and his friend Mr Collie left Paris on the 20th July 1819, to make a tour in Switzerland and the no of Italy. Mr Collie (a native of Aberdeenshire) older than Andrew, and, having been in India, had s~ more of the world. Andrew thus describes him

" Mr Collie has a good, large head, well cultivated; and he is
markably industrious. I have been lucky in
h h '		I he been assisted both by his

wrm asav i t ,	_‑__
and he is so much of a friend as to tell me at once when I am di
wrong."

80

Mr Collie was subsequently selected, on account of his scientific attainments, to act as surgeon of His Majesty's ship Blossom, under the command of Captain I3eechey, in her voyage of discovery to Behring's Straits. He died in 1836.
The two friends travelled in the diligence from Paris to Mülhausen,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 Schaffhausen, 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, arid 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 render 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 inspiration necessary to write verses. He mentions with gratitude 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 Müller. It is made of Paris plaster, and is from twelve to fourteen feet long, by' eight broad. All the towns, villages, castles, rivers, bills, mountains &c., are accurately represented from nature. The highest mountaid is, perhaps, eight or ten inches high, and has its glaciers as the rea%.: one has. It is placed on a large table, and about four feet higher is wooden fiat roof, like the top of a coach, supported by pillars. An Englishman, as they told me, visited it about fourteen days before we BE it. The woman who conducted him, left him alone for a few minute while he was examining it. At her return, imagine her astonishmea to find the gentleman coolly crawling on all fours, over lakes, mou tains, rivers, and glaciers, carrying villages and towns before hi " with more rapidity than the most violent storm, and ruining who cantons with the utmost sangfroid

! At the exclamation of the womaz6 he raised his head suddenly and bruised it against the skies ! 0 foot was pointed down, resting on the lake of Constance ;and the knee of the other leg pressed upon Righi. Like the great Jove hi self, his head was hovering over the highest mountains. Imagine yourself the extent of country lying between his inferior extremitied You will naturally wish to know what he was doing there. He w° surveying the road which he had already travelled, and exploring , a passage over a mountain which he meant to attempt in a few da The woman called out in German [of which he did not underst one word], that he had ‘ ruined the half of Switzerland,' and scolds him soundly. He stood listening, mouth open, and quite cool, as he had done nothing amiss ! Such is the description given to m The account is, I believe, exaggerated, as I did not find many of t towns and villages damaged; but after seeing the model and the tr of his visit, the incident appeared to me so ludicrous, that I left 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, whi had fallen during the night, about 200 feet lower than the road, flakes of snow still fell with the rain. We were wet to the kn and quite benumbed; but this made us walk the quicker. About h way we stopped for breakfast, but, from the coldness of our feet, could not sit more than half an hour. We walked on at the rate, four miles an hour, and, in 112 hours from starting, reached eau d'Ossola, being a distance of 42 English miles, twelve of them rice to a height of 6000 feet, and thirty descending. At our arrival, a

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.
" Next 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 calêche to drive us to Milan, 25 miles distant. 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 moneybelt was seized with involuntary spasmodic contractions, and sympathetically felt an approaching absorption of its solid contents. In an instant we were surrounded by a l~ostf of sërvants. The master himself appeared, and called to a waiter, ‘ Detachez les baggages.' The waiter ran behind the calêche, 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 Collie, and said, ‘ Et les baggages de Monsieur?' Collie told him to look within the calêche : 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 beyond the dimensions of our purses. He politely said, No; 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, ATr Collie for Auvergne, and I for Paris. I arrived at Paris on the 19th, safe and sound, after a most satisfactory tr;p."

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 dangers of such proceedings in Dr Combe's Physiology applied to Health and Education, chap. vi., p. 177, 13th edition.

88

RETURNS TO LONDON.

a letter to George, dated London, 10th November 181 he writes as follows:—

" Whatever may have been the cause, I certainly have been since coming here ! After my return from Switzerland, thought I was to be more lively and more gay for life. I the difference myself. In company or out of it, I was all

vity, and fun, except for about one week. I was more communicatit~ or talkative, if you will (without a word of our journey), relishä pleasant society exceedingly, and hard not half so serious a look usual. I was surprised and pleased at the change, as were many amob my friends. One gave one reason for it, and another another, whit I could give none at all. But, alas, the golden age is gone ! longer does the sight of me make the beholder prepare to smile. longer have I the same flow of spirits. No, they are down nearly zero, though this afternoon they were raised 3 degrees by letter."

He ascribes his depression to the damp air and of London, adds, that he rejoices in thinking over scenery and incidents of his Swiss tour, and conclude by saying:—" I am daily more and more pleased the we stretched across the Simplon. It is a source of pled sure and satisfaction which most amply repays my fi tigue." It is probable, making due all allowance f< the influence of the fogs, that this depression was onl another example of cerebral exhaustion consequent a excessive excitement and exertion.

Writing to George on the 26th November, he m

Lions that on arriving in London he was anxious to a tend a course of lectures on the practice of medicin one on surgery, and an hospital with clinical lecture but after trying the lectures for two or three weeks, found nothing that he wanted except at Mr Aberneth ‑and Mr Guthrie's, both in surgery, and both delivers on the same nights.

" I went," says he, " to Mr Abernethy's lectures, which v ered only twice a‑week, and was much gratified indeed. I have viai one of the dispensaries, the dissecting‑rooms, and gone occasionallf~

RETURNS TO LONDON.

89

the hospitals to see all the surgeons of eminence ; but the courses begin here on the 1st of October, and I arrived only on the 29th, and could not commence attendance for several clays. Moreover, the lectures 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 uncertainty and disappointment kept me debating in my 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 :—‑
" Once known, the work will stand on its own legs, and repay all the cost you have incurred in printin'gand 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 rise è il seguale del trionfo dell' amor proprio paragonato.' At first I regarded 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 Destructiveness 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‑acrown. Laughter, therefore, may proceed from the unexpected gratification of a variety of other faculties besides that of Self‑Esteem.
His friend Mr Collie rejoined him in Paris, accompanied 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, ,s as follows:—

" At the boat stairs, on the Thames, I mistook the thin ice for dry i
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 'q
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 connectinjs
me to her was torn asunder for ever, and much of the pleasure of mya
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 r
her brought my mother, and her worth and loss, to my keenest recol
lection. I sat down, but for twenty minutes could not master In
feelings enough to speak. My sister was much affected. After somq,f
time the emotion subsided. I found all well and thriving. I wen~°
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 than
she was gone for ever. Often till then was I in imagination tellin
her what I had been doing, and watching the kind expression of he
face. Her portrait, too, was there : but. excuse me, Collie‑I hav
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 si black‑neb, i.e., disaffected; and there being no troops here, the gentle men do garrison duty, and are hard drilled. The yeomanry were a turned out, and marched to Glasgow to overawe the discontented, an were billeted upon the inhabitants. In short, were the French landes at Leith, the authorities could do no more, and say no more, than the now do, to stultify themselves by doing and saying."

FIRST ATTACK OF PULMONARY DISEASE.		91

CHAPTER VII.

ANDREW COMBE IS SEIZED WITH SYMPTOMS OF PULMONARY DISEASE IN EDINBURGH‑PROCEEDS TO LONDON ON HIS WAY TO THE SOUTH OF FRANCE‑IS FORCED TO RETURN HOME‑SUBSEQUENTLY SAILS FROM GREENOCK TO LEGHORN‑HIS VOYAGE DESCRIBEDRETURNS 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 duration. His brother George had removed from Bank Street, and now resided in Hermitage Place, Stockbridge, a suburb of Edinburgh then recently erected. The house enjoyed a beautiful and uninterrupted prospect 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 description 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 ! but 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

FIRST ATTACK OF 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 blankets 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 dia‑:, covering the nature of, and cure for, the evil ; but so drily and unprofitably 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 unfavourabl physical condition in which Andrew returned to Edin x burgh. There is reason to believe, that both in hi studies and in his excursion to Switzerland, he ha drawn too largely on the stamina of his constitution. and that his " sadness" in London proceeded partly, a least, from exhaustion, which continued after his arr~.’ val in Scotland. He was thus predisposed to suffer from cold and damp, however applied, and to sustai serious injury from influences which a more robust co stitution would have successfully resisted.
The bad effects of these combined causes did no, however, immediately shew themselves; for during somk weeks he continued apparently in his usual state of health. On the 30th of January 1820, he wrote t his friend Mr Collie a long letter in French, describin among other things, the vivid interest which had be excited in the Royal Medical Society by an essay re by Dr Hibbert against Phrenology. He mentions t „. eager crowd of visitors, the hostile arguments adduce, the answers given, and the protracted debate. In t

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 which 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 reflection, or allow me to write an answer to his written arguments, and I shall accomplish more. I believe that I have more facility in learning 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, Causality 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 without any one to instruct us, except by communication with the natives, and lie would learn much more rapidly than L"

The correctness of this last opinion may be doubted, 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 influential supporter.
The first mention which he makes of his indisposition 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 my 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 remedies 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 confined 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 subsequently 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 contains 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 constitution. 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 interesting, 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 inculcates ; but in his letters we find examples of moral restraint and self‑denial, of patience, resignation, and equanimity, which could find no appropriate place in his published works, and which, nevertheless, contributed, 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 apology for continuing the citations from his correspondence.

On the first appearance of his indisposition Dr James Gregory was called in as his medical adviser; who, having 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 mentioned, 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 himself in a chill wind. Next day he fevered, and, within a week after this excursion, died. This was afterwards 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, says :

" 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, datedEdinburgh, the 22d June, Andrewwrites:

" 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 otherwise 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 uncommonly 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, whoa I should be settled in the world. I should like 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 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 well‑remembered home, where, not long ago, the smile of welcome, 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 !'

" 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.

4 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 carrying it on when he died.

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 digest 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," &e., 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 sufficient 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 SAIL 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 have a pain now under the one, and then under the other scapula, and ask him 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 home, 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 clone 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 intelligent 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, 1’ Do you remember our pleasant evening in Kilsyth 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 would 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 bow 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 accompanied us the first day, and each bore his part in the harmonious concert. One cried, another laughed, while three or four morn 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 barrel 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. Presently, ‘ 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 captain 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 before 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 unslung a Yankee's arm with a pistol‑ball at New Orleans, besides many other horrible and desperately gallant actions. Only a few days ago, since our arrival here, he wished to get out of the town after the gates were shut. The sentinel refused. The captain wrenched his musket from him in the most gallant style, threw it into the canal, and pummelled him to a jelly; and upon this was apprehended, lodged in the guardhouse all night, scratched his breast with his penknife, swore next morning it was a bayonet‑wound, and got clear off, as having acted

102

VOYAGE TO LEGHORN.

in self‑defence. So says the noble captain, but unluckily nobody believes a syllable of his story."

In a letter to George, dated Leghorn, 4th December 1820, he relates ‑

" We arrived safe here yesterday forenoon, being the Lord's day, after a passage of forty‑six or rather forty‑seven days; and, considering the weather, I have very great reason to thank Providence I can say I am as well as when I bid you adieu at Greenock. We ran on a sand‑bank, and on Wednesday were towed out by a steamboat as far as Gourock; then the wind being fair, we set all sail, and danced down the Frith at nine knots an hour. We were visited off the Largs by the revenue cutter, whose captain dined on board. We set him off at 2 P.m., fired the great gun, and gave three cheers in answer to those of the cutter's crew. At dinner I became sick, and went on deck, but all in vain. Next morning we were off the Isle of Man, sick, horribly sick. On Saturday evening the dead‑lights were put in, and an awful night followed, with as dreary and stormy a day as ever man saw. We had no observation, could not tell where we were, and lay till it moderated on Monday, under a close‑reefed maintop, to prevent the ship from rolling and carrying away her masts. Every other sail and spar was lowered. Then I had some very philosophical reflections on the ad and disadvantages of drowning, which was rather to be feared. Some tremendous seas broke over the poop with such violence that I thought she had struck, and up I ran undressed, to perish on deck, rather than die in the cabin. The captain soon undeceived me. The second mate when at the helm was knocked down by the tiller (the tiller‑rope having snapt), and received a severe contusion on ‘ Tune.' Next day I had to attend him in his bed, sick myself every five minutes. For a week he lay threatened with inflammation of the brain; however, it was prevented. On Monday we were near the Scilly Islands, with a hard breeze against us. It was now discovered that the cutwater, or headwork, was quite loose, and our lady ‘ Fame' broken in pieces. This accident was a serious one, as it endangered the foremast. We turned about to stand back to Cork and repair. On Tuesday evening the wind became more fair, and we turned to the south, having only the half of the foremast standing. We proceeded with dreadful weather to Cape

Andrew gave an account of this individual and of his voyage, in the Phrenological Journal, vol. i., p. 259 ; and the article is reprinted in the " Selections from the Phrenological Journal."

VOYAGE DESCRIBED.

103

Ortegal, near Finisterre. It we could not double for twelve days, and such another twelve I never wish to see again;‑knocked about by continual tempests in the Bay of Biscay,‑sick, watching, anxious, and restless by day, wanting sleep by night, with a sea which stove in part of the bulwarks even on the poop, came down the cabin stair, swept across the cabin up into the beds on the lee‑side. Luckily for me I was on the weather side. The water, however, came through both deck and sides, and wet both sheets and blankets. Our beds, I may mention, were not wide enough to allow me to lie on my back; and when I was on the upper side, it took my utmost and unceasing efforts to prevent my being pitched out. I stuck up an umbrella in front like a post, but it had no effect. For ten days I never slept, scarcely ate, but drank, perspired, and was sick in high style. With what an eye did I look back to the comfortable scenery of Kilsyth inn, and to our happy evening there ! and during the storm on Sunday, with what feelings did I compare Livingstone's Yards between sermons, to the idea of being drowned in half an hour !

" Off Cape St Vincent, on 16th November, about 60 miles from land, we saw a most melancholy sight,‑a poor wrecked brig, which, less fortunate than ourselves, had foundered during the gales. Having wood for her cargo, she was a little above water, with the waves breaking over her. At first we thought her shattered masts were covered with people, and to save them we bore down upon her. None were to be found. I cannot describe the damp cast on the spirits of all by this sight. The idea of what we had escaped came home to our minds, and to our eyes. We reached Gibraltar on Thursday fourweeks; spoke the Braganza of London, which was to report us at Lloyd's, as likewise a schooner from Oporto promised to do.

" Off Cape Finisterre the captain got a dreadful fright. He went on deck while we were at supper, at six P.m., and instantly called up the two mates from the cabin, with a tremulating voice ;‑‘Breakers ahead and on all sides !' This consternation turned out to be caused by a small phosphoric fish, which gave the sea the appearance of being covered with foam, from its dazzling whiteness. In the ugly bay we were scudding under bare poles, with a mountainous sea. The closereefed maintop‑sail laid her nearly on her beam‑emds, and more than once made us fly across the cabin head‑foremost. ‘One of the crew received a severe contusion on the arm, from the tiller‑rope snapping, after a heavy sea. I cured him too; though he was long unable to move his hand. Just at the end of the first month (being the end of the stormy weather), our cook was laid up with symptoms of enteritis, which alarmed me, as up "to that‑ time my head was still swimming from sickness. However, I filed him largely, and succeeded in restoring

104

VOYAGE TO LEGHORN.

him to usefulness and health better than he had enjoyed for many months.

" After standing out such ill usage during the bad weather, I was surprised, in attempting to cough, about eleven P.m., to find, as it were, a sword stuck through my left side, and my breathing much impeded and excessively painful. I felt my pulse, and in an hour hearing the captain awake, I tried to sing out for assistance, but was unable from pain. This continued with little improvement till seven A.m., when I succeeded in attracting attention. I put on a large blister, and lay still in bed. 1 felt much relieved, and in a few days was quite well again. Though I have been long ill, I have been very fortunate in never suffering acute pain till then, and then only for a day ; so that some good, even in this wicked world, always accompanies the bad. We had a fine view of Trafalgar, Gibraltar, Minorca, Majorca, Corsica, and Sardinia . . . . When off Corsica, on Friday last, we took the deep‑sea line, to sound. It was all out (120 fathoms), when a cry was heard from the brig, ‘ A turtle in sight ; give chase !' We had long looked for some sleeping on the water, but found none. At this call, of course, the deep‑sea line was hauled in, and off we set in chase. ‘ Gently, gently,' cries the captain, ‘don't waken him.'‑‘Bear down, bear down, without noise.' The captain posted himself in the bow, ready to seize, and spoke of the turtle soup. We approached fast, and at last came bump upon the trough of a grind‑stone ! ! ! ‘ Famous soup, captain,' said I. ‘ Yes, mock turtle.'

" In conclusion, I am, then, really in a good condition; I may almost say without a cough, with a noble appetite, a good bed, and a sound sleep. Such being the case in the month of December, I do hope that I may yet be left a little longer in this terrestrial world, and that I may yet enjoy as comfortable an evening as that of Kilsyth. Time will shew ere long."

In his work on Physiology, before quoted, he ascribes this improvement to " the flow of blood towards the skin having been so powerful as to keep it generally warm, always moist, and often wet with perspiration, forced out by the retching and nausea;" so that these great sufferings really proved, in his case, remedial administrations.

In a letter to Mr Collie, dated Leghorn, 23d December 1820, written in Italian, he mentions the state of his health:

BUST OF MR FRANCIS HORNER.		105

" I am happy to be able to tell you that I could not be better. The cough has left me, and, what is better still, my pulse has returned to its usual state. I feel no pain in any quarter ; I have a good appetite, and sleep well. I have established an issue in the sternum, and it is doing me good. Meanwhile, I eat little after dinner."

He mentions having made the acquaintance of Dr Peebles, who had come to Leghorn six years previously in a much more hopeless condition than himself, and who had now regained so much health and strength, that he was able to practise as a physician among the English in that town and Pisa.. Andrew enjoyed the advantage, also, of finding one of his own cousins, Mrs Scott (formerly Miss Jean Newton), in Leghorn. Her husband, Mr John Scott, was established there as the partner of an extensive mercantile house in London; and from them he received much kind attention.

" There is," he continues, " an English cemetery here, containing many handsome monuments. Among others, that of Mr Horner interested me greatly. He died, as you know, at Pisa, in 1817, still a young man. There is a bust of him. His head is among the best I have ever seen. The organs of the intellectual faculties are very large; those of the moral sentiments are beautifully developed; and the organs of Language are large."

On 13th January 1821, he writes to George :

" Often do I look forward to the day which will light me to Scotland again, there to remain for aye. Though I contrive to make myself pretty comfortable in every situation, still when absent there is always a hankering wish to be near you arising in my mind. This wish becomes every day more powerful, as the probability of its final accomplishment increases. Although I feel my left side quite free and easy, and can mount 89 steps of our stair without stopping, yet I think it imprudent to try my strength, or to go out in bad weather.

" As to the Italians, I cannot give you any accurate account of them, as I abstain from going into public places, or into situations where I could observe their heads uncovered ; but they are dreadfully abused here. Whether they deserve it or not, is another question.

106	CHARACTER OF THE ITALIANS.

I suspect they are not quite so bad as they are called. I cannot conceive from what cause such a universal degradation as is alleged, can have taken place in their character. One thing I can say is, that the English keep very much aloof from them in society. Their intercourse is limited to buying from and selling to them,‑an intercourse which affords very imperfect means of forming just opinions of them. The English, however, allow them to have a queer kind of honesty. Mr Scott's porter, for example, is called a very honest man, and is one with whom he could trust anything; nevertheless, in making up his monthly accounts, he never fails to charge a fourth or a fifth more than he is entitled to, and often for work never done; yet he will not steal. They are taught to look upon imposition as perfectly compatible with honesty; and with this exception they are allowed to be honest The people in whose house my three invalid fellow‑passengers and I live, No. 818, Via Grande, are amazingly honest; and yet they thought nothing of cutting open my bed package (which was well sewed up), and making use of my bedding, without telling me one word of their proceedings. This came out when I complained of cold, and asked for another blanket. The landlady said she had no more. I desired her to bring my package, and I would provide myself with one from my own store. She then acknowledged that she had placed one of my blankets on one bed, one on another, and the bedcover on a third; and that my fellow‑travellers must suffer, if I reclaimed my own. The curious part of the affair was, that when I told her that I should have expected at least to have been consulted before she opened my sewed package, and appropriated its contents to her own purposes, she made a long harangue of astonishment at my feeling cold; then she fell into a towering passion with me for being cold; and ended by expressing her surprise at my being so unreasonable as to complain, because she had used the blankets for the'comfort of my friends ! Is not much of such conduct to be attributed to the example set before them from their youth upwards? But then comes the question, How did the first who acted in this way begin to set such an example? If I could see their heads, I should be able to judge whether Conscientiousness is more deficient, or Acquisitiveness larger, in them than in our own people.

" Speaking of Phrenology, I saw, during the voyage, a striking example in our captain of the extent to which Destructiveness is an element in satire. His organs of Wit were small, and he had none of the talent; but he had large organs of Destructiveness, and nothing was so much to his mind as cutting satire. Without Destructiveness, Wit gives a harmless merry sort of humour. The organ named by

TEMPERATURE OF PARIS AND LEGHORN.		107

Dr Spurzheim ‘ Surnaturalité,' gives, as you say, a love of the wonderful; but this is not its primitive function. I believe it to be somehow connected with religion. It gives a kind of awe to the idea of God, for instance, and of the other world, which neither Veneration nor Ideality would produce.

" I strongly suspect that Lord Chesterfield copied his rules of politeness from an old Italian author, Giovanni delta Casa, who died in 1556. He writes in a very humorous style; and Chesterfield's rules look like literal translations.

" The weather, with the exception of ten days, has been akin to our August weather in Scotland. The thermometer has ranged from 54° to 62° (Fahr.) with a northern exposure. It is quite delightful, and so steady as not to vary 6° in a week. In short, it is most suitable to invalids. We had ten cold days; the thermometer on one occasion fell so low as 34°, but 45° was the general heat. In Paris, the heat in March 1819 was from 55° to 70°, medium 62° ; in April 65° to 70° and even 80° ; and in May from 70° to 85°. I am thinking of leaving this towards the middle or end of May, spending May in Paris, and coming home in the first ten days of June."

In a letter to Mr Collie, dated 27th February, he continues his favourable reports of his health. " In short," says he, " I am stout and well, and have twice walked about five miles without fatigue. We have been kindly invited to balls, routs, and other convivial entertainments, but prudence forbade the indulgence, and I refrained."

On the 3d March, he wrote to his sister Jean as fol

lows:

" Were I now to embark for Scotland, my feelings would be very different from what they were when I sailed for the same place from London in July last. Then, as I looked at the sun, at the green fields, and the happy faces in the smack, I thought to myself, ‘ Before another summer's sun, before the fields are again covered with grain, while you other passengers are still gay, I shall be in the silence of the ‑tomb.' Little hope had I then. In August, hope first arose, and I left Greenock in much better spirits, and with much less regret, than I left Leith in June. For many months I thought that my death would form the black mark for 1821, as that of poor James had so unfortunately clone for 1820. Yet how sweet is hope ! Last June,

108	LETTER FROM ABRAM COMBE.

whentalking with George about my prospects, he told me that I should certainly recover. Though my reason refused assent, still I felt something pleasing in the flattering assurance. I have got over the winter so well, that I hope, in no long time, to be as stout as ever. As to my staying abroad another winter, it is certainly the safest plan. What makes me here long much for home, is my almost total want of employment. I have no companion of my own kind, no opportunity of studying out of doors or in ; and how can any man support that, without a wish for home?"

The following letter was written by Abram Combe, Andrew's eldest brother, to him while residing in Leghorn; and as Abram's philanthropic pursuits and premature death will subsequently be mentioned in this narrative, it may not be improper to allow him to introduce himself in this form and at this time to the reader.

" Edinburgh, 7th April 1821.

" DEAR ANDREw,‑I duly received your letter, and would have written to you much earlier, had not the attention of our brother George made it almost unnecessary. I, along with all the members of the family, rejoice at your great improvement in health and strength, and think it the safest and best mode for you to remain on the Continent for another year. At your time of life, with its business I may say unbegun, you are apt to magnify the effects of every little expense, and to have anxious fears for the future. You will be apt to look at every person you see in health living upon the fruits of his own exertions, and think that if among your friends, and similarly employed, you would be content. Now if these fears or ideas give you any uneasiness (at the same time of life they gave me a great deal), it is a great pity; for at no period of your after life will you have the opportunities that you now have of enjoying yourself, if your health continue good. In afterlife, you will be surprised how such trifles should have caused you uneasiness; and as for your friends here, nothing would hurt them so much as your entertaining an idea that they would wish you to deprive yourself of any comfort or reasonable enjoyment within your reach upon the ground of economy. When you return home, I have no doubt that you will succeed, and soon be very independent; and my hopes on this score are strengthened from a knowledge of what your late friend (for he is now gone) Mr Thomas Scott has accomplished in your profession. From his success I have the strongest hopes of yours, and again request you to be as easy and comfortable,

VISITS FLORENCE‑TURKISH MERCHANTS.		109

in the mean time, as possible; and, should any unlucky circumstance make your present expenditure too heavy a sum for your exertions to redeem in after life, I, with George and Mrs Cox, will most freely and cheerfully do all that is requisite.

" Having said enough on this point, I have to congratulate you on that happy vein of humour which runs so naturally through all your letters. I was much pleased and entertained with the descriptive parts of your second letter to George, and cannot help thinking that to a stranger the effect of it would have been nearly the same as on us.

" You will be sorry to hear that Dr Gregory is dead.

"When George left you at Greenock, I met him, on his return, at Lanark, where, through him, I had the felicity to be introduced to Mr Owen. I was delighted with the mode of conducting his extensive establishment. He has under him about 4000 souls, including the children of all his workers, and his chief aim is to make them happy. By the mildness of his system, he has succeeded to a wonderful degree. He has banished misery and crime almost wholly from the village, and punishments are unknown. He attributes almost all the miseries of man to errors of education. But alas, ho is not thought orthodox by those who differ from him."

In April 1821 Andrew made an excursion to Florence, and there again failed to attend to the laws of health. In a letter to George he mentions that on his first arrival in that city he spent eight hours in one day in visiting cold and damp churches; but, on reflection, he became aware of his imprudence, and having happily escaped without injury, he formed the resolution, which he kept, not to transgress in that manner again. After a short stay in Florence he returned to Leghorn. In a letter written from Leghorn on the 16th April, he mentions an anecdote derived from the best authority, which is interesting as illustrative of the character of the Turks. Their honesty has frequently been praised, and Andrew writes that

" On Thursday a Turkish merchant came to Mr Scott to buy an assortment of manufactured goods. He merely lifted the lid of the box, and took the whole contents of it, without opening a single package, on Mr Scott's word. (The Italians examine every piece.) The

110	HIS CONDITION AND PROSPECTS DESCRIBED.

Turk said that he could not remove it at present, and requested that it might be kept for him. ‘ There is your money,' said he, handing to Mr Scott a bag of coin, ‘ take out of it what you want, and give me the remainder.' He went away, leaving the bag with Mr Scott; and after a short interval returned, and put it, with its diminished contents, in his pocket, without counting the sum left."

Mr Scott mentioned that this was the ordinary mode of transacting business between Turkish and English merchants who knew each other; but it is painful to add that at a subsequent period, adventurers, who had learned the existence of this custom, arrived from England with cases of goods fraudulently assorted, which they induced the Turks to purchase, tempted by their cheapness. It was only after arriving in their own cities, and examining the packages, that the Turks discovered that they had been cheated.

On the 26th April Andrew sailed from Leghorn to Marseilles, and travelled by the diligence to Paris. On the 10th of June he wrote to George from that city as follows :

°1 I met Professor Caldwell of the United States at Dr Spurzheim's and have given him an introduction to you. He has a very powerful and a very active brain. He does not go to Edinburgh, but he is"extremely anxious to have casts of the skulls, &c., in O'Neil's possession. He sees already the value of Phrenology, and he is just the man for spreading it. Individuality, Comparison, and Causality, also SelfEsteem, Love of Approbation, and Firmness, are very large. He returns to America in six weeks.

" As to my own condition. My body, I am glad to say, continues well, but my mind is nearly as much at Edinburgh as here. I mentioned in my last to Abram, that on arriving I felt a strong desire to

* The anticipation expressed in this letter has been fully confirmed by subsequent events. Professor Caldwell, on his return to the United States, commenced an energetic advocacy of Phrenology, and by his lectures and publications has been eminently successful m diffusing a knowledge of it among his countrymen. Several of his works have been reprinted in this country, and he still continues to advocate and apply the science with a zeal unabated by age.

HIS CONDITION AND PROSPECTS DESCRIBED.		111

continue north to Edinburgh. I suppressed that desire with the idea that by going about the hospitals and classes, &c., I should soon soften it down. In this I was, however, mistaken, as I found my strength still unequal to the task of standing two or three hours at bed‑sides, and of sitting even two hours a‑day at a lecture without a lean to my back. The consequence is, that I am left the whole day with nothing to do but read. And, besides having few books to read, as I came away only for six months, it is not to be supposed that I can spend the day very pleasantly sitting solos in my chamber of state, without any body to speak to but Willis at a time. The more I am in the open air, too, the better. It is not surprising, then, that this desire of returning to the comforts of a home haunts me night and day, and had Willis not been here I could not have supported it so long. My earnest wish, then, is to return immediately, but by no means to pass the winter at home, for the seeds of phthisis are not to be dissipated in a day nor in a year ; and the alternative of going from home, or going under ground, when left to the choice, is not difficult to determine. Dr Spurzheim thinks I should winter here if my health promises to stand it, because, though the winter is as severe as to cold, it is yet much drier, and much less liable to check perspiration. Now I make up my mind the more readily, that, in point of expense, I can go home, remain three months, and return here with little if any thing more than would keep me here all that time, and even did it require more money, you and Abram have kindly assured and shown me that a few pounds would be willingly given for my comfort, and the rest of the family have tacitly said the same. Some of the good folks at Edinburgh will no doubt think me a maggoty kind of a youth, to return to France again when there is nothing apparently ailing me. But knowing your goodness as to ways and means, I explicitly say that I would rather put up with my daily and nightly visits of ennui, and all their consequences, than go home to remain there next winter. My earnest wish is one day (and may that day be an early one) to fix myself beside you, there to remain, and with time I doubt not of success in my profession; and that day, if God grant that it ever arrive, I will see sooner and more safely by absenting myself again. From inquiries which I have been making I am not without hopes of finding a few patients in some of the departments about 200 miles from Paris. Many English go there to pass the winter I know. If there are no Army and Navy surgeons there, or even if there are, I might pick up something. If I found I could keep myself, or nearly so, I would even remain two years more. I have consulted Dr Spurzheim, and he says I may go home at least with safety, if not with advantage, which he even expects, but insists

112	HIS CONDITION AND PROSPECT) DESCRIBED.

on my return before winter. Gregory, too, said last year that our own summer was as good for me as any other. Last August and September I began again to relish my existence, and I was happy. The riding, too, was of advantage. Having after many days' uneasiness made up my mind, may I beg you to write me by return of post. It will add to my happiness to find you approve my proposal, but tell me fairly your opinion. Is there a steam‑boat from London ? How much is their fare ? Supposing I return, and I cannot indulge any other supposition, I believe I would be as welcome at Gorgie as last year, and my increased energies would permit of more extended enjoyments, and with less fear of consequences. Do, then, write me if possible by return of post.

" Dr Willis arrived here fourteen days ago. He is really an excellent person ; and came just in time to keep my woe‑begone countenance in something like a Christian shape. I was rejoiced once more to meet with one who knew and could speak about Phrenology, and I believe we seldom speak of any thing else. If we be talking about a man with a broken leg, we are sure at length to stumble upon his head and so plunge into Phrenology.

" Wit appears to me to be' a sentiment. It does not compare ; when active, it forces you to see everything in a certain light, just as Ideality prompts you to regard the works of nature or of art with a certain elevated enthusiasm without giving you any positive idea. The sober, serious reality does not please it when active, though it may when inactive. It forces the other faculties to find something agreeable to its feelings, and never feels comfortable till gratified; but it does not think ;for you find the wit always in proportion to the other faculties. The same way, a large Constructiveness, with a powerful head, forms new combinations: with a poor one, it simply constructs, and in a grovelling way.

" Dr Willis says that you and he are agreed in giving no Benevolence to animals. There I beg leave to differ from you both. Do you not often find large and powerful animals snarled at, attacked, and bitten, by their inferiors in size and strength, and yet do they not keep their temper, and return good for evil ? This is not small Combativeness either ; for dogs of this kind are often brave. A case the Doctor mentioned, when we put the question to him after our dispute, I think, settles it. A swallow was tied by the leg to a string stretched across the Court of the Institute. His brethren came in scores and pecked at the string or thread, one after another, in their flying, and persevered till they set the prisoner free, and immediately decamped. Other habits of animals will convince you of the necessity of such a faculty, modified,

PHRENOLOGY APPLIED.

113

of course, from what it is in man, but still retaining its base. Submissiveness, or Veneration, which Willis was for giving animals instead, will not do. Submissiveness would never make a dog goodnatured, or make it patient in suffering the attacks of other animals of the same species. Hunting dogs give another example. There are some dogs which, from the very beginning of their career, take up the bird in their mouth without hurting it in the slightest degree. Others, again, by all the drilling, whipping, &c., that you choose to give them, can never do so. No doubt Combativeness and Destructiveness go for much there ; but what prevents the first one biting, even with moderate Combativeness and Destructiveness ? He abstains from it without drilling at all. A man's Veneration, I take it, would go but a short way in preventing him being a butcher. Mr W. is my authority for the dogs, and he knows them well; and he used to speak of one excellent in other respects, which he could never drill to spare the game, though he could make it obey in other respects with the same submissiveness as the others.

"When I look around me in the world, and behold those men whose names are famous from the north even to the south, and from the rising to the setting sun, and to whom mankind are accustomed almost to look up as to a race superior to themselves, and when I see the heads Providence has been pleased to place on their shoulders, I am almost inclined to suspect that we lay too much stress on Causality in our opinions of others. Look at the head which makes a figure in the world, and see how rarely that pre‑eminence is occupied by Comparison and Causality. Not once in thirty times is the head of reputation one of philosophic excellence. The philosophic head is certainly of a superior mould to that of the observing head, and its enjoyments are of a more elevated nature ; and that appears to be the principal blessing attached to it, because it is less dependent on circumstances for its happiness than the other. For surely the observing head is the one for society, and for this sublunary scene. In looking at a head, how apt are phrenologists to say, ‘ Ah ! that is a good or a bad head,' according to the development of Comparison and Causality, when, in fact, the morale is the most essential of all. Suppose now in my voyage that my companions had been endowed with large Comparison and Causality, with the captain's moral development. Instead of being happy in their society, would I not have avoided them as I would have done the devil? Neither thoughts nor feelings would have been in harmony. In short, Comparison and Causality hold, perhaps, the highest rank, but they do not form the head par excellence, unless combined with the others in due proportion. I hope you comprehend my meaning. Dr Spurz

H

114 CONSTITUENTS OF A PHILOSOPHICAL UNDERSTANDING.

heim made me a present of his ‘ Essai Philosophique' and Thesis. I have attended a number of his lectures. They are excellent. That on Natural Language was admirably given, and produced a wonderful effect on his audience. If he has not Imitation, score it out. I say he has it full. That of yesterday on the Pathology was excellent; and had I his ‘ Folio' now, I could do some good with it, for I must own I did not fully understand his meaning; and the reviewer, who abused and ridiculed him for it, had been in the same condition. His ‘ Essai Philosophique' is excellent too. I am reading Madame de Stael Sur la Litterature. There are many good ideas in it besides fine writing."

The opinion stated in the preceding letter, that in modern times the men who have acquired distinguished reputation in literature and science, have had the organs of the observing faculties more largely developed than those of the reflecting powers, merits a passing remark. As a general proposition, the observation is correct; for the reflecting organs are comparatively useless without the observing in tolerable supply; while the observing organs are decidedly useful, even with a poor endowment of the reflecting. When Bacon's philosophy was at length appreciated, it called into activity the men in whom the lower region of the forehead was largely developed. This class is pre‑eminently adapted for observing phenomena and collecting facts. It is practically superior to the class in which the reflecting organs are large and the observing organs small, and is therefore better adapted than that class to a sound and useful way of cultivating science. But it is not capable of achieving a profound and comprehensive interpretation of nature, or of appreciating the recondite relations of causation. In medical science, morals, and politics, it furnishes empirical practitioners, men who base their judgment on established maxims, and follow routine courses. of action; who are eminently practical, but who are too little alive to the natural causes with

CONSTITUENTS OF A PHILOSOPHICAL UNDERSTANDING, 115

which they are dealing, and the more remote consequences to which these inevitably lead. The purely physical sciences have been less under the dominion of this order of minds than the mixed sciences. In the latter, for nearly a century, Bacon's recommendation to observe Nature, has been allowed, to too great an extent, to divert attention from the duty of interpreting her phenomena, and applying her agencies; and the consequence has been, that in these departments Europe possesses accumulations of facts with comparatively little knowledge how to apply them. One example may be quoted from Dr Combe's work on the Physiology of Digestion. After mentioning the numerous and important researches of physiologists into the chemical and nutritive elements of the different kinds of food, he remarks :

" The necessity of adapting the diet and regimen to the individual constitution and mode of life becomes so obvious as to excite surprise that it should ever have been neglected. But, strange to say, although the ancient writers attached much importance to this subject, the relation between diet and constitution, as a practical consideration, has of late been so entirely overlooked, and sound physiological principle has been so little consulted with a view to the proper adaptation of the one to the other, that we are at this moment in possession of very little knowledge of any value regarding it, and a long time must elapse before much more can be supplied."

In the present work, also, we have seen the results of the teaching of the different branches of medical science by men who were stored with knowledge of facts, but who rarely thought of applying it to the regulation of daily conduct. In family practice, such men allowed their patients, unwarned and unguided, to follow habits and pursuits inevitably leading to disease, perhaps to death. The "Doctor" prescribed for the symptoms, and, having conquered them, left the patient to the guidance

116 CONSTITUENTS OF A PHILOSOPHICAL UNDERSTANDING.

of nature and his own common sense, considering it no part of his duty to explain to him the causes which had induced the malady, and the circumstances which would promote or avert its return. At the time when Andrew studied, so completely was the teaching of medical science under the influence of this class of minds, that he himself, although endowed by nature with large organs
understanding, was at first led servilely to follow in their track, and remained blind to the lessons taught by natural causation. If society shall, hereafter, recognise in him any merit deserving of lasting remembrance, it will be that of having laboured to raise his profession above the sphere of empiricism, and to base its practice on observation of the designs of Nature, and her modes of accomplishing her designs, as well as on single facts and phenomena.
In the development of the intellectual organs, the Germans present a striking contrast to the French and English. In the former the reflecting organs generally predominate in size over those of observation; and, in consequence, German philosophers frequently err by indulging in profound speculation, without due consideration of facts. A large and equal development of both regions of the forehead, combined with large organs of the moral sentiments, is necessary to the formation of the highest order. of philosophical understanding.
Andrew left Paris on the 25th of June, and arrived in Edinburgh on the 3d of July 1821, in good spirits and greatly improved health. He passed the summer at Gorgie Mill, occupied himself with riding, walking, reading, and society, and continued regularly to gain strength.
In the beginning of October, he sailed from Leith for London, and proceeded directly to Paris, where he

of reflection, and with an eminently practical

ARRIVAL IN EDINBURGH AND RETURN TO FRANCE. 1 1’%

arrived on the 18th of that month.		He remarks his
singularly bad luck in sea‑voyages; for he again had a
gale of wind on his voyage to London, and another in
crossing from Calais to Dover; but sustained no injury
from them beyond a cold in the head, which speedily dis
appeared. In a letter, dated Paris, the 20th of Octo
ber, he says:—" The great D		has honoured me
with a call, and I conclude that he wants something."
He had frequently remarked, that there is a class of
persons who never bestow kindness or chew attention
to a friend, except when they want something from
him; and then, taking advantage of his good‑nature,
they will pay him a visit, ostensibly of friendship, but
which is invariably followed up by a solicitation for some
service to themselves. Andrew used to blame himself
for allowing such individuals to accomplish their ob
jects at his expense, especially as he understood them
perfectly, and was not taken by surprise by their de
mands ; but he felt it difficult to say " nay," to a per
son who unhesitatingly threw himself upon his good
nature for a kindness. He proceeds:—

" I asked Dr Spurzheim, with whom I had a tête‑à‑tête breakfast this morning; about the Christian Society lately established here. He stated that its object is to endeavour to persuade men to practise Christian morality all the days of the week, and to allow each to believe whatever articles of faith he considers to be sound, without squabbling with, depreciating, or persecuting his neighbour."

The effects of his impaired health, and the want of an active pursuit on his mental faculties, are strikingly described by him:—

" I told you that my visage was more than usually long. Monsieur S., when I took leave of him in Paris, told me that I must try to be gay ; that I was not half so cheerful as in former times, and that he was uneasy about the change. I told him that I was quite aware of it, belt could not be gay, except when the spirit moved me. I was

118	VISITS LYONS, AIX, AND MARSEILLES.

really low, though not at all miserable. It cost me an extraordinary exertion to think about any thing; or rather, I could not think at all, and every little sentence that I uttered was formal and grave. All my friends remarked that I could not speak French half so readily as I did before I left Paris; but the fact was, that I could not speak either French or English, or any thing else, simply, because I had nothing to say,‑and what I did say was without force, as there was no mental impulse. However, things are mending."

He proceeded from Paris to Lyons, and writing from that city on 4th November, he says:

“It is really astonishing what changes travelling makes in one's state of mind. So very slightly is my wonder now excited by new objects, that were I to‑day in Lyons, to‑morrow in Naples, and the day after in Paris, I believe that I should feel it all as a matter of course. I arrived in Paris with the same indifference that a man does at his own door after his morning ride. This matter‑of‑course feeling has its advantages, but it has also its disadvantages. Curiosity being blunted, we are apt to miss much information that would be both useful and interesting, and which the feeling of novelty would prompt us to acquire."

He visited Nismes and Aix, and of the latter place he writes:—" I found that it would not do for a residence: It is a nice, clean, dry, well‑built town; but it is almost deserted. There is no society, nobody to be seen, and nothing earthly for a stranger to do." He, therefore, proceeded to Marseilles, which he found an agreeable residence. On his journey from Lyons, he became acquainted with the celebrated Colonel Jones, and some members of his wife's family. They also remained at Marseilles, and through their kind attentions, he was speedily introduced to as much society, French and English, as he had strength to enjoy. Phrenology was a passport to him everywhere. He maintained discussions in defence of it, examined heads, and explained its applications. In a letter, dated 11th December, he writes:

0		IN MARSEILLES.

119

" The other night, after defending Phrenology with all my force, from the attacks of a good head placed on the shoulders of a Monsieur Baissez, Inspecteur des Enregistremens et des Domaines, this gentleman observed, that I might be in the right, ‘ mais que les jeunes gens etaient toujours enthousiastes.' The next day, on meeting Colonel Jones, I found out that I had been haranguing away in ‘superb French' for a long time, and the Colonel, as soon as we met, cried out that he must study Phrenology thoroughly, for he never saw happiness expressed on any face more strongly than on mine (prodigious !) when engaged in that discussion."

He adverts to the state of his health, and reports it in every respect Satisfactory:

"At times, indeed," he adds, " I feel the pain, or rather uneasiness, in the chest; but it is to such a slight degree, that had my attention not been previously directed to that quarter, I should not have noticed it. As things have happened, had I the last twenty months to live over again, I believe that I should adopt precisely the same measures. A few months more will, I hope, bring me once more to your comfortable fireside, them to remain."

On the 9th of February 1822, he writes:

" As the cold continued, I gave up my evening parties by way of precaution, and confined myself for four days during the strong and keen north‑west wind, which is rather severe upon invalids, and even upon robust people, although the sky is always cloudless and serene. For fourteen days it has been milder and very pleasant. I am, thank God, still amazingly well. * *‑. " I must do myself the satisfaction to say, that no man could be more kind and attentive to me than Colonel Jones has been. During the cold weather, he came to me every morning with his newspaper, and told me what was going on, and whether to go out or not, and sat with me an hour or so, and sometimes came again in the evening. He lent me any books he could supply me with. The ladies were likewise very kind; and, considering that I was utterly unknown to them, and that they are not acquainted with a single person of my acquaintance, their kindness is still greater. I have been more fortunate than any one of my fellowinvalids who came here with letters. I left Lyons without knowing a single soul living to the south of Paris, and without the means of becoming known. At Marseilles, I hear every one remarking the extreme reserve of English families in receiving visitors whom nobody

120

REVISITS LEGHORN.

knows; so much so, that almost all the young men here are reduced to the society of each other, although most of them have had one or two introductions : yet I might be out every night if I chose. Part of my facilities may arise from my being ‘medical.' From the first I neither put myself in the way of invitations, nor avoided them, but left every one entirely at liberty to draw back or advance as they chose, although in some instances I was anxious enough to form acquaintances. I consider myself very fortunate in having left Paris this winter, even against Dr Spurzheim's advice ; for although it has never been very cold, yet it has been so moist, changeable, and unhealthy, that pectoral complaints have become epidemical in some situations, and delicate persons have taken the road to Pere la Chaise in unwonted numbers."

He received a letter from Leghorn soliciting him to pay a visit to his friends in that city, in order to take under his charge to Scotland a lady who, with a brother then recently dead, had been his fellow‑passenger in the "Fame" from Greenock in the previous year. In compliance with this request, he sailed from Marseilles on the 21st February, again encountered a storm, and only on the 1st March landed at Leghorn. He mentions that, when procuring his passport at Marseilles, he was measured by the police‑officer, and found to be 6 feet 2 inches in height, and that he must have grown an inch during the past year; at which he was much surprised. He visited Pisa, and there and at Leghorn learned the fate of all his invalid acquaintances of the preceding winter. In a letter dated the 14th of March, to George, he says
" I believe I am now the only one of last year's invalids who is well;" and he adds the names of several who were dead. To what extent their fate may have been influenced by their own acts of imprudence, or by severer forms of disease than Andrew suffered under, it is impossible to decide; but his report is little encouraging to individuals labouring under pulmonary affections.

RETURNS TO EDINBURGH.

121

He and the lady before alluded to sailed from Leghorn on the 23d of March. They encountered a severe storm, in which a French frigate was wrecked, and, after abandoning their vessel on the coast, arrived at Marseilles on the 8th of April. They proceeded by Paris to London, and arrived in Edinburgh early in May.
During the remainder of the year 1822, and the first three months of 1823, he resided with Mrs Cox at Gorgie Mill. Riding was resumed, and his health continued to improve.

" The excitement," says he, " given to the skin by riding was sufficient to keep the feet warm, and to prevent even considerable changes of temperature from being felt; and rain was not more regarded, although special attention was of course paid to taking off damp or wet clothes, the moment the ride was at an end. Strength increased so much under this plan, combined with sponging, friction, and other means, that it was persevered in during the winter of 1822‑3, with the best effects."‑Principles of Physiology applied to the Preservation of Health, chap. iv.

122	ANDREW COMBE'S FIRST LITERARY ESSAY.

CHAPTER V111.

ANDREW COMBE'S FIRST LITERARY ESSAY‑HE COMMENCES MEDICAL PRACTICE IN EDINBURGH‑ANSWERS DR BARCLAYS OBJECTIONS AGAINST PHRENOLOGY‑BECOMES A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL MEDICAL SOCIETY OF EDINBURGH‑‑DEFENDS PHRENOLOGY BEFORE THE, SOCIETY‑TAKES THE DEGREE OF M.D. IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH.

IN 1823, Andrew Combo was so fully restored to health that he fairly commenced his career as a medical practitioner in Edinburgh; and his literary talents also soon found a sphere of action. In a letter to George, dated 9th December 1841, he states his views of the advantages of his studies in Paris, and refers to his first literary production:

" By sending me," says he, " to Paris at the age of twenty for two years, you put me in the way of not only acquiring professional knowledge, but of appreciating at their true value the prejudices of nation, and kindred, and locality, and in this way expanded my mental horizon, and widened the range, without diminishing the intensity, of my feelings, so as to influence my whole future happiness. The spirit of toleration and charity for the differing opinions and feelings of others was thereby cherished, much to my own advantage. By afterwards encouraging me to write, and particularly by pruning away or lopping off fully one‑half of the first essay I ever ventured upon, you rendered me another essential service, although the said ‘ lopping' seemed to me for the moment like a civil sort of manslaughter. The improvement, however, thereby afforded was so obvious, that in a few hours I took heart again; and the lesson was so fruitful, that it never required to be repeated. The Essay on which you made the havoc was, if I rightly recollect, one for the Society, on Phrenology as illustrative of Insanity, and it never was published."

COMMENCES MEDICAL PRACTICE IN EDINBURGH. 123

The first of his printed Essays was one "On the Effects of Injuries of the Brain upon the Manifestations of the Mind." It was read before the Phrenological Society on the 9th January 1823, and subsequently published in the Society's “Transactions."" Mr Rennell, the Christian Advocate of Cambridge, in a pamphlet on Scepticism, published avowedly to refute the doctrines of Phrenology, had asserted that “portions of the brain, various in situation and size, have been found to have been entirely disorganized, yet no single power of the mind was impaired even to the day of the patient's death;" and similar statements had been hazarded by other opponents, particularly by the writer of the celebrated attack in the Edinburgh Review. In the Essay, Andrew analyzed and reduced to their true value the chief cases referred to by the opponents in support of their assertions, and showed that they were altogether insufficient to warrant the inferences deduced from them. The Essay is interesting as an evidence of the discriminating intellect and calm judgment which he thus early brought to bear on professional subjects, and instructive as an exhibition of the kind of facts and arguments which were then relied on by men of eminence in their several spheres (such as Mr Rennell, in Cambridge, and Dr John Gordon of Edinburgh), as sufficient to refute Dr Gall's Physiology of the Brain.

In the summer of 1823, Andrew took up his residence in the house of his brother George, as convenient for medical practice. Having numerous relations and connections in the city, and having already acquired among them a reputation for solidity of judgment and kindness of disposition, he was not long left unemployed. At the commencement of his career, his most ex

* 8vo, pp. 448. Edinburgh: John Anderson jun. London: Simpkin, Marshall, and Co. 1824.

24	COMMENCES MEDICAL PRACTICE IN EDINBURGH.

tensive practice, like that of most medical men in similar circumstances, was among the humbler classes of the people; but the gratitude of these frequently prompted them to commend his skill and attention to persons of a higher grade than themselves with whom they were connected, and he was thus gradually and favourably introduced to a more extensive and influential circle of friends. Referring to this period of his life, he says, in his “Address to the Students of Anderson's University, at the opening of Dr Weir's first Course of Lectures on Phrenology:"

" I have, for many years, declared that my obligations to Phrenology, both in my private and professional capacity, are very greatgreater, indeed, than to any other single branch of science. When I began to avow belief in its doctrines at the outset of my career, I was warned that if I persisted in doing so, it would prove an almost insurmountable barrier in the way of my professional success. Trusting to the sustaining power of truth, I continued, nevertheless, to avow my convictions, and to advocate its cause, whenever the occasion required it ; and the result amply justified the reliance which I placed on the omnipotence and stability of truth. My advocacy of Phrenology did not prove any impediment in my professional career ; on the contrary, it in many respects extended my field of usefulness, and greatly contributed to my happiness, by giving a more definite and consistent direction to the faculties which I possess. No doubt, some who might otherwise have employed me, were at first deterred, by their prejudices, from doing so ; but their place was more than supplied by others, who, in their turn, would not have sought my advice except for Phrenology ; and, ere long, many even of the prejudiced ventured to return, and ultimately took place among my warmest friends. The truth is, that, in the long run, professional success or failure does not depend on a man holding this or that particular opinion which happens, for the moment, to be popular or the reverse. Success depends almost entirely on professional skill and attainments, on general soundness of judgment, on readiness in resource, moral integrity, kindness of disposition, discretion, and persevering industry.

* 8vo, pp. 38. Maclachlan and Stewart, Edinburgh ; and Simpkin, Marshall, and Co., London. 1846.

COMMENCES MEDICAL PRACTICE IN EDINBURGH. 125

These are the qualities which elicit confidence in the hour of danger ; and you may depend upon it, that if you give decided evidence of your possessing them in a high degree at the bedside of the patient, you will compel even the most prejudiced of your opponents to respect your opinions on this as well as on other subjects, even while they may differ from you. In the private relations of life, also, I have derived the utmost advantage from the lights of Phrenology, and have gained a firmer hold on the confidence of my patients, by pointing out to them its great practical value in conducting the intellectual and moral training of the young, in promoting mutual forbearance and general kindness of intercourse, and thereby adding to their general means of happiness. It is for Pr Weir to dwell upon all these points in detail; here I can only give you, in a few imperfect words, the general results of my own experience, and leave you to attach what importance to them you may think they deserve.

" But while I estimate thus highly the value of Phrenology, it is right to warn you that it is of Phrenology as it exists in the minds of its well‑informed cultivators, after years of study and observation, that I speak, and not of the fancy which many substitute for it in their own minds, and designate by its name. Of the latter kind of Phrenology, nobody can have a lower opinion than I have. It neither is nor ever can be of any use, either to its possessor or to others. The Phrenology which I have here recommended to you, is a science which cannot be mastered or judged of in a day, in a week, or in a month. Like other sciences, it must he studied before it can be known. Many entertain the notion that they have only to read a book or a pamphlet to qualify themselves to estimate its bearings, and pronounce authoritatively on its merits. This is a grand mistake ; as well might we expect to become the equals of Liebig or Faraday, by reading a volume on Chemistry. Till we become acquainted with Phrenology in its details, with its evidences, and with its manifold applications to medicine, education, and morals, we are in truth as incapable of forming a correct opinion of its nature and uses, as we should be of those of Chemistry while in a similar state of ignorance."

Soon alter commencing practice, he became deeply sensible of the deficiency of ordinary medical education, in not teaching, with sufficient earnestness and perspicuity, the conditions which regulate the healthy action of the bodily organs‑a knowledge of which conditions was, in his opinion, of prime importance in the prevention, detection, and treatment of disease. " It is true,"

126	STATE OF PUBLIC OPINION ON PHRENOLOGY.

says he, " that many medical men, sooner or later, work out this knowledge for themselves; but I have no hesitation in saying, that these are exceptions to the general rule, and that the greater number pass through life without a conception of its value in the prevention and cure of disease. Even those who ultimately become familiar with the subject, almost always attain their knowledge only after having suffered from the want of it, and rarely master it so completely as they would have done had it been made a part of their elementary education, to which they saw others attach importance. In my own instance, it was only after having entered upon practice that I first had occasion to feel and to observe the evils arising from the ignorance which prevails in society in regard to it."‑(Principles of Physiology, &c., ch. ii.) To the removal of this ignorance, he subsequently devoted himself with a zeal that never failed to distinguish his conduct when any end which he thought important and attainable was to be accomplished; and, after his mind had been fairly opened to the importance of hygienic principles of action, he made a point of reducing them to practice in his own personal habits.

For several years before and after this period of Andrew's life, Phrenology occupied so large a share of public attention in Edinburgh, and he took such an active part in the controversies to which it gave rise, that it becomes necessary to advert to the state of feeling and opinion in that city on its merits. Generally speaking, the medical professors of the University, and private medical lecturers, the members of debating societies, the press, and the leaders of opinion at the dinner‑table and in the drawing‑room, opened the floodgates of ridicule against it; while only a few individuals, most of them unknown to fame and destitute of

ANSWER TO DR BARCLAYS OBJECTIONS.		12'7

social influence or authority, constituted its defenders. In those days it was a common taunt, " Who are the Phrenologists ? Men utterly unknown and unaccredited in the world of science." The Phrenologists in vain replied, that Phrenology itself is a science, and that the merits of Dr Gall's discovery could no more be adequately judged of by men who were eminent only in Chemistry, Natural Philosophy, or Belles Lettres, but ignorant of it, than Geology or Medicine could be properly estimated by such persons without making them the subjects of special study. This and all other appeals to reason were borne down by ridicule, or by arguments of the most flimsy and often self‑contradictory description. But there was one exception to this general condemnation. Dr John Barclay was then the most distinguished private lecturer on Anatomy and Physiology in Edinburgh. Dr John Gordon, the author of the attack on Phrenology in the Edinburgh Review in 1815, a much younger man, was his rival in that department of medical instruction. While Dr Gordon lived, Dr Barclay regarded Gall's Anatomy of the Brain with rather a favourable eye. Afterwards, however, he obtained other lights on the merits of the new doctrine. In 1822 he published an elaborate work on " Life and Organization," in which he attacked Phrenology, and denied that it had any foundation in nature. Andrew Combe replied to him in an essay, entitled " Observations on Dr Barclays objections to Phrenology," read before the Phrenological Society on the 3d of April 1823, and which was subsequently published in the Society's " Transactions," p. 393. " Dr Barclay," says he, " assumes, without inquiry and without evidence, that the facts (of Phrenology) have no foundation; and he then proceeds to shew, by argument, that the phrenological conclusions are inconsistent, not

128	ANSWER TO DR BARCLAYS OBJECTIONS.

with their own premises, but with certain preconceived notions of his own, altogether foreign to the question. The result is, that he fights with a shadow, and the merits of Phrenology remain exactly as he found them. The following observations, therefore, are necessarily limited to pointing out the insufficiency of Dr Barclay's method of attack." He accordingly states each of Dr Barclay's objections in succession, and replies to it. The greatest compliment, perhaps, paid to this essay, was one penned by a subsequent opponent of Phrenology, who alluded to " the Satanic logic" of Andrew Combe which had been directed against Dr Barclay. As Andrew's "Observations" were calmly and respectfully written, the phrase " Satanic logic" referred solely to the refutation which he had given, by logical reasoning, to Dr Barclay's arguments.

In modern times, the chief interest of those contro‑, versies consists in their forming an authentic record of the state of opinion of men eminent in the medical and other sciences, concerning the functions of the brain and mental philosophy, when Dr Gall's discovery was propounded. The day has not yet arrived when justice can be done by public opinion to the champions in these discussions; and it is probable that many readers of the present work may consider that the mention made of them here might with advantage have been omitted. But the philosophical reputation of Andrew Combe is indissolubly connected with the merits of Phrenology. He has published, in a variety of forms, the acknowledgment that it furnished the foundation of his most fruitful thinking, and a constant and invaluable guide of his actions; and it is the conviction of his biographer, that no complete estimate of his mind and works is likely to be formed by scientific men until their know

PHRENOLOGICAL JOURNAL ESTABLISHED.		129

ledge of Phrenology shall resemble, more nearly than it does at present, that which he himself possessed.

In 1823, he joined William Scott, James Simpson, Richard Poole, M.D., and George Combe, in establishing The Phrenological Journal, of which he continued to be a proprietor till the completion of the First Series of ten volumes in 183'7, and a contributor down to the year preceding that of his death. Latterly, however, the mental labour which he was constantly devoting to the composition of his physiological works, and to the improvement of the successive editions which were rapidly called for, rendered it impossible for him to write so much for the Journal as he had formerly done; but he continued to give his valuable advice and suggestions to the editor on all subjects concerning which it was thought necessary to consult him. From first to last, indeed, many of the articles written by other contributors had the benefit of his revisal before being published; and he, on his part, was always desirous to submit his manuscripts to the judgment of his friends, and to obtain their criticism on his arguments and language.

As already mentioned by himself, on p. 122, the style of the first paper which he wrote was so imperfect, that, when submitted to his brother George for revisal, it underwent numerous alterations. At the first aspect of the havoc which had been made in its expressions and arrangement, Andrew felt mortified and annoyed; but when he entered into the details, he adopted, with grateful acknowledgments, the suggestions which had been offered for its improvement. In mentioning the circumstance afterwards, at the distance of many years, he remarked that that criticism, which had at first appeared to him to be severe, had proved a valuable lesson, for it conveyed to his mind the

t

130

ESSAY BY ANDREW COMBE

first perception of the importance of style in didactic writing. From this time he studied with care the art of composition, and he frequently repaid, by his corrections on his brother's writings, that service which he acknowledged to have been done to himself at the commencement of his literary career. At no time, however, was Dr Combe a fluent writer, when method and precision were called for. He laboriously arranged his thoughts in the order best suited for their clear enunciation ; and in embodying them in language, his sole aim was to express his meaning with plainness, precision, and as small an expenditure of words as was compatible with making a strong enough impression upon readers of slow apprehension. For the latter purpose, he, in his popular writings, resorted largely and most usefully to repetition of the same idea in different language, and in connection with different illustrations. In composing, he deleted and interlined abundantly, and often re‑wrote his sentences. Most of his letters, however, were written currente calamo.

A list of his contributions to The Phrenological Journal (some of which were reprinted in a volume of Selections, published in 1836) is subjoined in the Appendix, No. II. Only a few of the most important of them need be noticed in the present work.

By a law of the Royal Medical Society of Edinburgh, which he had joined, each member in his turn is obliged to write a dissertation for discussion on a subject selected by a committee. In 1823 the following question was propounded by the committee:—" Does Phrenology afford a satisfactory explanation of the Moral and Intellectual Faculties of Man ?" and the duty of writing upon it was transferred by arrangement to Andrew Combe. In executing this task he brought the results of his instruction in the new Physiology of the Brain

IN DEFENCE OF PHRENOLOGY.		131

under Dr Spurzheim, and of his study of Insanity under Esquirol‑of his whole practical experience in observing the correspondence between development of brain and the mental dispositions and talents of individuals, acquired in his voyages, travels, and intercourse with society, before described‑and also of his medical and literary education generally‑to bear upon the subject; and he produced an essay which may be read with profit even at the present day.

The evening of Friday, 21 st November 1823, was fixed for hearing the paper and discussing its merits. In conformity with the rules of the society, three copies had been previously circulated among the members for fourteen days, and one copy lay nearly as long in their hall: The nature of the essay was thus generally known before the evening of debate. It attracted an unusual attendance of members, and as the society admits visitors, the number of strangers was still greater. The society's hall was found inadequate to contain one half of the persons assembled for admission; but Dr Duncan junior having handsomely permitted the use of his class‑room in the College, an adjournment to it was proposed and adopted. This apartment was seated for three hundred students ; and as, on this occasion, not only the benches, but the passages and area were occupied, it was calculated that at least four hundred persons were present. Andrew Combe being unable, through weakness of the chest, consequent on his recent indisposition, to read the essay himself, this duty was performed by the president in the chair for the evening.

The essay being concluded, the president invited the members to deliver their opinions, and added that the society would be happy to hear visitors also, who might consider themselves as members for the night. The debate immediately commenced, and was supported

132

ESSAY BY ANDREW COMBE

with much animation till two o'clock in the morning. At this hour, a member moved an adjournment to Tuesday evening, 25th November, at seven o'clock, in the same place, which was unanimously agreed to. The discussion recommenced at the time appointed, and lasted without interruption till a quarter before four on the following morning.‑*

The Editor of the Phrenological Journal, in commenting on this debate, makes the following remarks:

" The opposition to Phrenology manifested on this occasion proceeded chiefly from members of the society, and the speeches in support of it from visitors. The gentlemen who spoke in opposition were not young men attending the medical classes, as has been represented, but gentlemen of mature years, decorated with literary, scientific, or professional titles. The greater number of them held diplomas of doctors in medicine, or of surgeons. Nor did they, on this occasion, ruffle for the first time unfledged pinions ; for many of them were gentlemen extensively travelled, and known, moreover, as debaters in different societies for a period of several years. Nevertheless, we are constrained to say, that they manifested throughout a profound ignorance of Phrenology, with a deficiency either of ability or inclination to grapple fairly and manfully with its principles ; they indulged in a spirit of cavilling on petty and isolated points, wandering through a maze of random assertion, founding on hearsay statements ; and when they ventured to allege a fact in support of their own views, they coupled it with a positive declaration that its accuracy must be received on their report, and that they had taken the most a èctual means to prevent the phrenologists from finding out the individuals alluded to, so as to verify the assertion by their observations. The Phrenological Transactions, on the other hand, replete with principles and facts, were published before the debate, and in the hands of the Medical Society; we likewise furnished one of their members with a copy of our First Number before publication, also containing many facts, and it was placed on the Medical Society's table for a week before the first night of discussion. These publications must have been diligently read; for members of the Medical Society not only visited the Phrenological Society's collection of casts on the regular days of exhibition, but solicited and obtained private inspection of them day after day,

* Phrenological Journal, vol. i., p. 30i 
IN DEFENCE OF PHRENOLOGY.		133

and were incessant in examining and measuring them. Nevertheless, in the whole discussion no opponent once ventured to attack the principles stated and elucidated in Mr A. Combe's essay then read: only one called in question any part of the essay, and this was on a speculative point ; and no member of the Medical Society, except one (of whom we shall speak presently), denied the correctness of the facts stated in the Phrenological Transactions or Journal, which they had the means of verifying by an unrestrained inspection of the casts and skulls.

" Our astonishment, therefore, was indescribable on hearing it reported all over the town, after the termination of the discussion, that the members of the Medical Society had completely refuted Phrenology, and put it down for ever. There was no vote of the Society on the question, so that this assertion must have had reference exclusively to the supposed effect of the speeches. We traced the report, and found it to originate with the members of the Society themselves, who loudly proclaimed a victory at once brilliant and decisive. In anticipation of a discussion really interesting, we had requested a gentleman, who is much interested in Phrenology, to take down the speeches in short‑hand, and three other friends to take notes ; on comparing which, we found ourselves in possession of a very full and accurate report of the debate. On hearing of the boasted triumph of the opponents, we congratulated ourselves in possessing these materials, and resolved, in perfect candour and good faith, to give the public an opportunity of judging between us and our opponents. Aware, however, that we were liable to be viewed as partisans, and that if we reported the speeches exactly as they were delivered, many persons might suspect us of misrepresenting them; and anxious, at the same time, to do the speakers ample justice, we resolved to apply to themselves for notes of their speeches, and to print whatever they furnished us with. We accordingly sent a circular containing an offer to this effect, to each of the speakers in the debate."

This proposal was met by an order issued by the Society, prohibiting its members from publishing their speeches ; and as the Editor of the Journal then threatened to publish a report from the materials provided in the manner before mentioned, the Society applied to the Court of Session for an " interdict," or injunction, to restrain him from doing so, which was granted; and thus the Society was left in possession of its self‑appropriated laurels.

134	PHRENOLOGICAL ESSAY BY ANDREW COMBE.

In any other condition of public opinion, there would have been little difficulty in deciding with whom the victory in this contest had really rested; but so thoroughly were nearly all the influential men in Edinburgh and the conductors of the press committed against the possibility of Phrenology being true, drat in this city the cause reaped small benefit from the effort which had been made on its behalf. Indeed, it may be doubted whether ultimately the effect was not rather locally injurious. The individuals who had taken the lead against Phrenology, although older than Andrew, were still young, and constituted the elite of the then rising generation of medical men of this city. Influenced by the hostile opinions of their seniors, and of general society, they entered the lists of opposition without adequate investigation of the facts and consideration of the arguments on which Phrenology was founded. It is no disparagement to them to affirm, that not one of them had made it a subject of serious, scientific, and practical study and observation, in the manner and to the extent to which he had done, as exhibited in the preceding pages. Allowing to them, in comparison with him, every superiority in general capacity and professional attainments which their most ardent admirers could claim, there was still a vast advantage on his side in knowledge of the subject. Some of them have since risen to eminence in their profession, and filled academical chairs, and from these seats of influence, they have continued to sway the judgment of another generation of students, and to lead them in the path in which they themselves have walked. The consequence is, that in the Scottish universities, and in that of Edinburgh in particular, nearly as little is at present known of Phrenology (speaking of accurate and practical knowledge) as on the days when this debate took place. Meantime, the knowledge and favour

RESULTS OF HIS ESSAY.

135

able opinion of general society has advanced, and few men of talents and attainments would, in the present day, venture to write arid speak against Phrenology in the style which was adopted in 1823.

Andrew's essay was subsequently published in the Phrenological Journal, vol. i., p. 337, and also reprinted in the “Selections" from that work, p. 317 ; and beyond the circle of his native city it served to raise his reputation, and to advance the cause which he had espoused.

These incidents, tedious and uninteresting as they may appear to some readers, really carry in themselves a certain degree of public importance. Even if Phrenology be unfounded, the men who at the period in question staked their reputation publicly against it, without due examination, cannot be regarded as having, with a noble courage, stemmed the torrent of a gigantic error, and saved future generations from wasting their strength in wading through its muddy streams. On this supposition, if they performed a public service, it was only by accident, for which they deserve no commendation: While, on the other hand, if Phrenology be essentially true, they have earned the unfortunate distinction of having assisted in heaping piles of rubbish, which it will require half a century to remove, in the path of one of the greatest discoveries of any age ; of having discouraged, so far as their influence extended, the youthful mind of Scotland, for two generations at least, from embarking in a serious examination of its foundations and applications; and, consequently, of having laboured to close against the rising intellect of their countrymen the most fertile field of observation, discovery, and practical utility, at that time presented to its investigation. On the second supposition, an age of mediocrity in cerebral physiology, and moral and intel

136 	LETTERS ON PHRENOLOGY, (1 LC.

lectual philosophy, may be expected to await Scotland, as the natural consequence of the part which her leading men then acted in regard to the new doctrines.

During the year 1824, Andrew continued busily engaged with the practice of his profession, and in the study and elucidation of Phrenology in the Phrenological Society and Journal. On 15th October 1824 he wrote to George, who was then delivering a course of Lectures on Phrenology in Glasgow, as follows:

" I had a letter from Collie this afternoon, dated Aberdeen. He made a run down there for a few days, as instead of getting off, he is ordered to sea again in the Blossom frigate on a very long voyage, viz., to double Cape Horn, run along the west coast of America, make discoveries, and, when at Behring's Straits, to look in among the icebergs for Captain Parry, and, at all events, be ready to pick up Captain Franklin's overland party, if they get so far ! So instead of a merry visit to Paris, and a quiet fireside at Aberdeen, poor Collie must trudge round the world at the least. At the same time, were I in his situation, with Phrenology in my brain, I would not regret it at all. He will have a glorious field, touching at so many places ; and I have just written him in the strongest terms, to make use of his time, and bring home skulls, measurements, and observations. I have given him all sorts of motives; told him how things are going on, how he may raise his reputation, forward truth, and avoid useless regret from doing nothing. So that I think, with the knowledge which he possesses, he will really do something. I almost wish I was with him when I think on it."

In a letter to George, dated 29th December 1841, he continues his professional history:

" In 1825," says he, " I graduated in Edinburgh, having hesitated a long time whether to do so, as I was then so old, viz. 27 1/2 ! In preparing for graduation, I paid a heavy penalty for having preferred attending efficient private lecturers to inefficient professors, as I was compelled to fee and attend the latter before I could become a candidate, and this too, when my time was occupied to some extent by practice. I had tried to attend old Dr ‑in 1816, but finding it impossible to do so with profit, I left hint, and attended the lectures of Dr John

HE TAKES THE DEGREE OF M.D.		137

Gordon. The result was, that I was compelled to attend Dr eight years later, when he was still more inefficient than in 1816. In like manner, I had sought that instruction from Dr Barclay which Dr ought to have furnished ; and I was punished by being compelled to attend Dr ‑ also, when the loss of time was of more serious consequence to me. Such are the results of appointing incapable and retaining inefficient professors to teach classes on which attendance is compulsory. Old Dr ‑, in the ‑ of ‑,was another example of utter inadequacy."

The subject of his Thesis was De Hypochondriasis Sede, and the dedication was in the following terms :”Viro ingenio et virtute ornato, Joanni Gaspar Spurzheim, felicissimo anatomise et physiologiae cerebri nervorumque indigatori; et in his utilioris medecinve et dignioris patri : necnon Phrenologiae, fundatissimae et nunquam periturae philosophise mends, tam sane quam morbidae, inter cultores edam peritissimos, uno excepto, principi ; hocce opusculum, grab animi testimonium, D.D.D. Andreas Combe." He subsequently enlarged it, and published it in English in the Phrenological Journal, vol. iii., p. 51, and " Selections," p. 244, where it is entitled, “On the Seat and Nature of Hypochondriasis."

From this period his professional practice and reputation continued steadily to rise; and he must be allowed to state once more the manner in which he considered that Phrenology contributed to his success.

In a letter to George, dated 14th December 1841, Dr Combe writes:

" Perhaps the first benefit which I derived from the new philosophy of mind, was a better knowledge of myself, and the clearing away of sundry obscurities which impaired my usefulness, and with it my happiness. From my large Wonder and Veneration, I invested everything unknown to me with a depth and magnitude which seemed to place it utterly beyond my powers. From the same feelings I invested

138	USE OF PHRENOLOGY IN MEDICAL PRACTICE.

every one with whom I was not intimate with great and high qualities, and an amount of knowledge which I could never hope to attain. With these impressions, conjoined with active Caution, Secretiveness, and Love of Approbation, I was afraid to place myself on the same level with others, and often, after intimacy was almost forced upon me, I marvelled to find myself, after all, just as clever and well‑informed as most of them. During my studies the same combination led me to assign an unfathomable depth and extent to all new branches of professional knowledge ; and it happened very often, that when I understood a thing easily, I continued poring over it under the conviction that there must be a deeper and more important meaning which my stupidity had not been able to reach. I studied, therefore, hesitatingly, gropingly, and sometimes almost despondingly. I lingered, wondered, and doubted, till I verily believe I impaired the elasticity of my intellect. At least, I feel assured, that had I then known the sources of these apprehensions, and been encouraged and animated in my career, I would have advanced with a vigour, efficiency, and pleasure, which would have influenced my whole future existence. To Spurzheim's lectures I am indebted for the first relief I obtained from these impediments. In his descriptions of Wonder, Cautiousness, Veneration, Secretiveness, and Love of Approbation, I recognised my own feelings ; and the thought came over me, ‘ So it is you and not the external subjects that are mystifying and perplexing me ?' In deficient Eventuality and Language I recognised my real intellectual defects, and in them and moderate Ideality I was able to trace the inferiority which I had always remarked in myself as compared with you, and also the cause of my want of command over my knowledge add words. I saw and was comforted. For the first time my mind was in harmony with itself, and I could exert, without distrust, the faculties which God had given me. I could now compare myself with other men, and see‑that in some important respects I possessed advantages of my own which might, in their turn, be employed to good account. I saw what I could and what I could not do; and at once resigning the general intellectual excellence which I would have liked, I dedicated myself to those branches in which I could reasonably expect to be useful to mankind and to myself.

" This was the first great benefit conferred upon me by Phrenology. The next was its furnishing me with clear and consistent principles of conduct towards others, or of moral and social duty. This also had a great influence on my happiness, and increased very much the share of toleration and charitable feeling towards others which I originally possessed. Of its influence on my religious views you are sufficiently

USE OF PHRENOLOGY IN MEDICAL PRACTICE.		139

aware. Professionally, also, Phrenology was of immense use to me; but on these topics I cannot now enlarge."

His remarks on the professional benefits which he derived from Phrenology, written in the full maturity of his judgment and experience, will be introduced under the dates of 24th and 25th December 1841, and 23d January 1842.

140

TREATMENT OF PATIENTS.

CHAPTER IX.

DR	COMBE'S TREATMENT OF HIS PATIENTS‑HIS CONDUCT TOWARDS OTHER MEDICAL PRACTITIONERS.‑NOTICE OF ABRAM COMBE AND HIS EFFORTS TO CARRY AIR OWEN'S VIEWS INTO PRACTICAL EFFECTHIS ILLNESS AND DEATIL‑LETTER FROM DR COMBE TO A PATIENT. ‑PRACTICAL ADVICE RELATIVE TO A SUITABLE EMPLOYMENT FOR A YOUNG LADY.‑DIGESTION AS AFFECTED BY EXERCISE.‑AIR JEFFREY'S CRITICISM ON PHRENOLOGY‑DR COMBE, IN CONSEQUENCE WRITES A PHRENOLOGICAL ESSAY ON SIZE ASS CAETERIS PARIBUS A MEASURE OF POWER.‑ESSAY ON ‘' THE CONSTITUTION OF MAN" FIRST READ BEFORE THE PHRENOLOGICAL SOCIETY.‑LETTER TO A YOUNG PATIENT.

AT the time when Dr Combe entered the medical profession, it was common for practising physicians simply to prescribe medicines, and to lay down dietetic rules to be observed by their patients, without explaining to them the nature of their maladies, or the rationale of the cure. Blind faith and implicit obedience were required of them. He early adopted the practice of addressing the reason and enlisting the moral sympathies of his patients, in every case in which this appeared to him practicable. He preferred the intelligent co‑operation of a patient in the measures necessary for the restoration of his health, to mere observance of rules; and therefore communicated as much of the nature of the disease as could be stated without exciting injurious alarm,‑explained, as far as the indi

TREATMENT OF PATIENTS.

141

vidual could comprehend it, the process which Nature followed in order to reach the condition of health,and urged on him the necessity and advantage of complying with her demands. He also stated to the patient, or his attendants, the occurrences which he knew would take place in the progress of the malady before his next visit, and instructed them how to act in the emergencies as they occurred. In his communications, he practised discretion, but avoided mystery; and stated truth, as far as it could be revealed without direct injury to his patient. The consequences of this mode of proceeding were equally beneficial to his patients and to himself. They became convinced that it was Nature that was dealing with them, and that although they might “cheat the doctor," they could not arrest the progress of her evolutions, or escape from aggravated evils if they obstructed the course of her sanative action. Under these convictions they obeyed his injunctions with earnestness and attention. By being premonished of approaching symptoms, which were frequently steps in the progress of the cure, but which, if not explained, might have been regarded as aggravations of the malady, they were saved from much alarm, and he from many unnecessary calls and attendances. His present biographer had ample opportunities of remarking how few messages, even during the busiest seasons of his practice, came to him from patients under treatment, and how very rarely he was called upon to visit them during the night. He ascribed this comparative immunity from nocturnal calls to the explanations and pre‑arrangements now adverted to.

In forming connections with new patients, he acted with scrupulous delicacy towards those practitioners whom they had previously consulted. As an example

142 CONDUCT TOWARDS OTHER MEDICAL PRACTITIONERS.

in point, the following passage in a letter dated 10th June 1825, addressed to his sister Jean, may be cited:—

	" I have nothing new to communicate, except, perhaps, to mention
that	‑‑ Esq. of ‑ has come to me as a patient, a good
deal to the annoyance of ‑ his former adviser. I waited upon the
latter and mentioned the circumstance to him, and offered to decline
attending if he could state any reasonable objection; but he was very
liberal, and, although hurt, assured me had no objection."

In another letter to Jean, dated 26th June 1825, he writes :—

" I have always said that my large organs of Veneration have stood in my way, from my youth upwards, and you folk have laughed at the idea. But I can prove it by an example. Fourteen days ago, I missed getting a capital patient by being mistaken for a minister instead of a doctor. A lady from England, whom I met at ‑ last summer, brought her husband, who was very ill, to Edinburgh for medical advice, and placed him under the care of ‑. She did not like ‑. Afterwards, when she learned that I was medical, she expressed great regret at her mistake, for she would have been perfectly satisfied if I had had her husband under my charge.
" I have had a very kind invitation from ‑ to visit him in the country, but I am so busy I cannot go. I have had more patients for the last fortnight than I ever had before at one time."

The following allusion to one of Sir Walter Scott's productions occurs in the same letter :—

" ‘ The Great Unknown' is exciting the town by the ‘ Crusaders.' I saw it played the day after the book was published. It is very interesting, and Mrs H. Siddons was quite irresistible in the delivery of the epilogue. It was an excellent specimen of natural language."

In May 1826, Abram Combe, Andrew's eldest surviving brother, fell into bad health, and came from Orbiston, in Lanarkshire, to Edinburgh, to enjoy the benefit of Andrew's advice. Abram's introduction to Mr Owen is mentioned on page 109 of this work. The effect produced on his mind by the appearance of the happy

ABRAM COMBE.

143

children, and the respectable, well‑doing work‑people, above two thousand in number, whom he saw at the spinning‑mills of New Lanark, was instantaneous and indelible. From that day he became enthusiastic in his desire to do something practical for the improvement of the condition of the working‑men of Edinburgh and their families. He possessed large organs of the moral sentiments and of the observing faculties, with an active temperament; but in him the organs of Causality were considerably smaller in relation to these other organs than they were in Andrew. With similar activity of mind, therefore, and similar desires to promote human enjoyment, the two brothers followed different lines of action. Abram took small account of unfavourable innate dispositions and capacities, of the force of inveterate habits, and of the effects of adverse social influences which he had not the power to remove. He at once resorted to the exposition of certain moral and intellectual principles, and the institution of practical arrangements to carry them into effect. He believed implicitly, without the benefit of experience, in the efficacy of these means to produce a certain and speedy reclamation of the objects of his solicitude, from ignorance and vice, and to induce in them moral and industrious habits, and all the social virtues necessary for living in community.
Andrew, on the other hand, viewing the world through the medium of his own organisation, sought to teach principles which, by enlightening and vivifying the public mind, might lead, by slow but certain steps, to general improvement; contenting himself in the mean time with performing such acts of individual kindness as he could accomplish in his private sphere. The brothers held many amicable discussions on their respective views of human nature, and the most efficacious mode of ad‑

144	DEATH OF ABRA\I COMBE.

vancing its progress in virtne and happiness; but Abram could not penetrate into natural causation to the depths which Andrew reached, nor could he embrace so wide a circle of probable contingencies; and hence they never arrived at similar conclusions concerning the merits of Mr Owen's doctrines.

Abram commenced his efforts by trying to carry the social principles into practice among a number of workmen placed, by circumstances, under his personal influence; and he subsequently induced a number of philanthropic individuals to join him in purchasing the estate of Orbiston, and in erecting on it dwellinghouses, school‑rooms, work‑shops, and other accommodations, for three hundred persons. Their object was to combine agricultural with manufacturing industry, on the principle of the produce belonging in common to all the co‑operators. About £36,000 were expended in this enterprize.

The proprietors invited such members of the working‑classes as approved of Mr Owen's principles, to assemble on a certain day, with their wives and children, at Orbiston, and to form a social community. The call was speedily responded to; the houses were filled, and Abram Combe took the superintendence of the people and their operations. He devoted nearly the whole of his pecuniary resources and time to the promotion of the scheme. For a brief period, he rejoiced in the hope of success; but, although still in the prime of life, and of a vigorous constitution, his health gave way under the influence of excessive physical and mental exertion. This occurred in the beginning of summer, and although Andrew gave him anxious instructions regarding his health, he returned to his labours at Orbiston, and only partially observed them. The consequence was, that after a few months of imprudent exertion, he came

DEATH OF ABRAM COMBE.

again to Edinburgh in the autumn of the wine year, and was seized with inflammation of the lungs in George's house. The late Dr Abercrombie and Andrew did every thing for his recovery that skill and kindness could dictate, and they succeeded in saving him from immediate death. But the malady ended in pulmonary consumption, under which he sank in August 1827.

Abram had never been instructed in Physiology, and had never studied Phrenology; and Andrew frequently lamented the zeal with which, under the influence of the purest philanthropy, he devoted his life to objects which a profounder knowledge of human nature might have shewn him to be unattainable by the means and in the circumstances then at his coiumand. After his death, the establishment at Orbiston was dissolved, the people were dispersed, the land and buildings were sold, a great loss was sustained, and of the large and solid fabrics which he and his coadjutors reared, not one stone now remains above another to serve as a memorial of their benevolent intentions.* On his deathbed lie became convinced of the errors which he had committed in relation to his health, and lamented that the elements of Physiology and other practical sciences had not been taught to him at the High School of Edinburgh, in place of the Latin syntax and histories of the Heathen Deities, which had formed the staple of his early education.

In a letter to Jean, dated 12th June 1826, Dr Combe says: " Mr Jeffrey is reviewing the ' System of Phrenology.' That is news worth staring at; and yet it seems true." As the article alluded to was not published till the subsequent month of October, this mention of it in

' Abram Combe is the individual referred to in The Constitution of Man, chap. v., sec. ii., pages 168 and 248. Eighth edition, post 8 vo.

ii

146	LETTER FROM DR COMBE TO A PATIENT.

June is curious, as indicating how deliberately it must have been prepared, and how much it must have been talked about before its appearance, for Andrew could have heard of it only from common report.
The following letter, dated the 14th of June 1826, addressed to a patient in the country, is an example of the manner in which he gave medical advice.

To Miss AB‑.
	" Your very welcome letter of 11th reached me late last night, and
	I am glad to be able to give you much consolation ; for every thing
	you state, accords completely with what I told you a week ago, viz.,
	that your present ailments arose, in a much greater degree than you
supposed, from the state of the digestive organs.	Your ‘ Cautious
ness' being active, it was not unnatural for you to feel apprehensive
	about the lungs; but if they had been in great danger, neither would
Dr	have ordered you porter and blue pill, nor would I have
prescribed the latter and sea‑bathing.	The vivacious activity of
‘ Cautiousness' depresses all the functions of the body, and none more
	than those connected with digestion, and hence it doubles the influ
ence of actual derangement of the corrésponding organs (the stomach,
	liver, &c.) upon the general system; while, on the other hand, that
	very derangement reacts upon ‘Cautiousness,' and aggravates the
evil.	All parts of the body require a regular supply of nervous ener
gy from the brain, and without this they stand still.	It is like the
steam that puts the machinery in motion.	Stop it, and the function
	stops, as in syncope. Diminish it, or dilute it, the function will be
	come slower and feebler, while the organ itself remains otherwise
healthy.	The breathing, for instance, of a man in a passion is hur
	ried and irregular; but it is his brain, and not his lungs, that is at
	fault. A panic‑stricken person turns pale, scarcely breathes, and per
	haps falls to the ground; but it is the brain, and not the face, the
lungs, or the muscles, that is affected.	Hence you will see that a
	slighter but more permanent emotion may affect, in a slighter but also
	in a more permanent degree, any part, especially any otherwise weak
	part of the system, and yet little or no actual disease be present in the
	latter, and hence you cannot trust to your own apprehension for cor
	rect information. For example, two years ago I attended an elderly
	lady for three months, who insisted that her liver and heart were
	dreadfully diseased; but there was no symptom of anything but an
affection of the head of twelve or fourteen years' standing.	She
would not believe this, but referred everything to the liver. 	She

LETTER FROM DR COMBE TO A PATIENT.		147

and I, consequently, soon parted. Last month she died, and, having expressed regret that the prejudice she entertained against me had prevented her again calling me in, she left an urgent request that I should be present at opening her body. The liver, stomach, and heart were quite sound, but the brain was greatly diseased, skewing that the pain, palpitations, &c., arose from it alone. I tell you this, because you may see and take comfort from the fact, that all is not disease that seems to be so; and that ‘ Cautiousness,' with all its imposing gravity, is not to be trusted to, unless with a certificate from ‘ Causality' and ‘ Comparison' that it is right. Neither must you listen to fear, if it tell you that your brain must be affected. The case alluded to was, in this respect, as different from yours as possible. The influence of ‘ Cautiousness' to which I allude, is nowhere more remarkable than on the pulse ; it quickens it often in au extraordinary degree, so that no counting can be depended on while the patient is noticing the counter. I have seen a difference of twenty beats in the space of five minutes, from attending to this.
" Now, as any one that has ever taken an emetic, or felt sea‑sickness, knows full well, the state of the digestive apparatus acts in its turn upon the brain, and depresses the mental vigour; and thus, while bile, loaded stomach, &c., make one low and miserable, this state of mind acts, in its turn, in making bad worse. But the reason of the thing being known, half the evil is destroyed. In your case, then, two things are quite obvious: lst,'1’he liver is not supplying a healthy bile, and, in consequence, the functions of the stomach and bowels are disordered. 2d, There is what is commonly designated nervous irritability, depending, so far as I know, chiefly on overactive ‘ Cautiousness.' To the former, the appearances described are attributable; to the latter, that irritability of pulse depending, not on fever, but on nervous excitement. To the two conjoined, I attribute the numbness which I have sometimes seen to an annoying extent from the same causes.
" The cough and other pectoral symptoms, I conceive, arise from local sympathy with the liver. This often occurs. The perspiration is easily accounted for. Now that the pain in the right side and shoulder is gone, I would advise you," &c. &c. [Here specific prescriptions are given.]

His advice was sought by his friends, not merely in medical cases, but in many of the ordinary emergencies of life. The following letter, dated the 17th of July 1826, is his reply to an application for his opinion regarding the line of usefulness into which a young lady,

148	EMPLOYMENT FOR A YOUNG LADY.

in dependent circumstances, known to him, might, with the best prospects of success, be introduced.

" I am inclined to think Miss	fit for higher duties .than
any she has yet fulfilled. She has an ambition to do well, but
she has never yet been put in the right road. In her, the organs of
Self‑Esteem and Love of Approbation are naturally very vigorous;
they have been highly cultivated, and erected into ruling motives, and
their possessor is at the age of their most engrossing activity; but
there is in her a capacity for moral and intellectual usefulness, which,
by judicious education, may be greatly improved. When we consider
how long time, and how much drilling and training it takes, to make
even predominant moral faculties act harmoniously and usefully to
gether, we need not despair of her improvement, if she have perse
verance sufficient, and be judiciously guided. The moderate size of
her organ of Individuality is her greatest drawback as an instructress.
Individuality is, par excellence, the teaching faculty. It delights in
details, and in patient repetition, while it is quick in observing the im
pression made. In this she is rather deficient, and I doubt whether,
with the aid of her other faculties, which give her what is called
common sense, she will ever be very successful in communicating in
struction to the young. Again, her Self‑Esteem and Love of Appro
bation will long stand in the way of her success in the position of a
governess; but I think that, in favourable circumstances, they might
be brought under the control of her higher faculties. If, however, she
should be engaged by a family in whom these same faculties have the
ascendency, and by whom distinction is pursued, and respect shown,
only in the line of Self‑Esteem and Love of Approbation, she will be
deteriorated in character, and rendered miserable. They will look
down on her as an inferior, and neglect her, and this will mortify her
self‑love, and sour her temper; while they will worship world's idols,
from whose shrines she will be excluded by her humble position. In
opposite circumstances, and under the influence of right‑principled and
generous superiors, she would rise in the moral and intellectual scale.
Every proper precaution should be used to place her in a situation
calculated to give scope to her best faculties, and to avoid exciting
those which are apt to impair her usefulness and happiness."

As already mentioned, Dr Combe desired to secure, wherever it was possible, the intelligent co‑operation of his patients in the remedial measures which he pre'scribed; but experience soon convinced him that his en‑

MR JEFFREY'S CRITICISM ON PHRENOLOGY.		149

deavours to attain this end were greatly impeded by the general ignorance of the functions of the human structure, which pervaded even educated persons in all ranks of life. Ile thus early felt himself almost forced to prepare for the press an exposition of the fundamental laws of health which he laboured to enforce in practice; such a work being the only means of saving himself from the ceaseless labour of teaching the same truths in succession to each patient whose conduct he desired to guide. Accordingly, in a letter dated the 9th of October 1826, to Miss A B‑, he says:—

" I told you what to do after eating, but I omitted to tell you what to do before. Eating immediately after exercise, is known by wide observation to be hurtful. Half‑an‑hour's rest is the least that is proper; but when no choice is left, a very moderate meal is the most salubrious, if eaten immediately after exercise. I shall try some day whether I have the power of making an intelligible exposition of some of our chief functions, and then you will be able to try if you can preserve them in health. I expected at last to have got a few days' recreation as a prelude to the winter campaign, but it is truly said' there is no rest for the wicked ;' for on Saturday night I got an urgent fourtimes‑a‑day case, which I cannot leave for a day or two, and then very likely something else will cast up. However, I have been so well this season that I do not much care. I am very thankful for the past, and can still amuse myself anticipating the future."

In October 1826, the expected criticism, from the pen of Mr Jeffrey, of George Combo's " System of Phrenology," appeared in the Edinburgh Review. It was an elaborate, eloquent, and sarcastic article, intended to crush Phrenology for ever. George replied to it in a Letter dated 31st October, addressed to Mr Jeffrey, published first as a pamphlet, and subsequently in the Phrenological Journal, vol. iv., page 1. Andrew contributed largely to the physiological argument in the reply. In a letter to Miss A B‑, dated 6th December 1826, he writes:—

1 1)0	PR COMBE ON SIZE AS, CETERIS PARIBUS,

" My brother's ‘Letter' is in the second edition, 1000 copies having been sold in a month, although a pamphlet rarely reaches a sale of 500. The Phrenological Society dined in Barry's Hotel, on the 23d November, most sociably and agreeably. Among the toasts,

health of Mr Jeffrey, as a great benefactor to the cause, was given with much good taste and good feeling, and warmly received. A letter from Professor Caldwell of the United States (mentioned on page 110), and one from Dr Otto, Copenhagen, arrived very opportunely from opposite quarters, with the best news. The King of Denmark had attended Dr Gall's Lectures many years ago, and, having read Dr Otto's book, he appointed him physician to the penitentiary, that he might make useful observations if Phrenology was true, and correct his ideas if it leas not. This was liberal."

	The ridicule with which Mr Jeffrey, and other opponents, had treated the fundamental principle of Phrenology, that, in the nervous system in general, size in the organ is, caeteris paribus, a measure of the power of its function, led Dr Combe to enter on an elaborate investigation of this subject; and he produced an Essay" ° On the influence of Organic Size on Energy of Function, particularly as applied to the Organs of the External Senses and Brain," which was read before the Phrenological Society on 30th November 1826, and subsequently published in the Phrenological Journal, vol. iv., p. 161. The introduction explains its scope and object:

	To To an individual unacquainted with physiology, and
whose attention has never before been directed to the
observation of the mutual connection of mind and mat
ter, and who is not aware of the actual extent to which
the mental manifestations are affected by every change
in the condition of the brain, no part of the phrenologi
cal doctrines seems at first sight so I inherently absurd'
and destitute of foundation, as that fundamental prin
ciple which affirms power or energy of function to be
always, cceteris paribus, in exact relation to the size of
the organ; and yet, so far is this from being ' contrary

A MEASURE OF POWER.

lil

to the analogy of all our known organs,' as is generally supposed by the unthinking, and taught even by men of no mean reputation, that it is in reality a general law of nature, pervading all created objects, animate and inanimate, and, consequently, affecting the brain in common with every other part of the body. As this, however, is a cardinal point, in regard to which much confusion and misapprehension prevail, it may not be amiss to dedicate a few pages to its elucidation.

	" The principle of Size, as maintained and demon
strated by the Phrenologists, it may be proper to repeat,
is, not that organic size is the only, but that it is ONE
condition, and a most important one, in producing energy
Of f2GnCtiOn; and that hence, WHERE ALL OTHER CONDI
TIONS ARE EQUAL, there increase of Size will invariably in
dicate increased intensity of function. Now it is no shall
presumption in favour of the inherent truth of this propo
sition, that no opponent has yet ventured either to deny
or to dispute it, without having first misstated or mis
represented its meaning. For, instead of fairly grappling
with it, as laid down in all the phrenological writings,
those of our opponents who have ever attacked it, and
Mr Jeffrey among the number, have chosen uniformly
to represent it as affirming, that organic size is the only
and exclusive condition of energy of function, and have
brought wit, fact, and argument into play, to upset, not
our statement, but this their own absurd misrepresenta
tion ; and having succeeded in this very easy attempt,
they have done their best to make the world believe
that they had actually withdrawn the prop which alone
supported the phrenological edifice, and that, of course,
the latter was fast crumbling to its fall. How much
they have erred in thus proceeding, and how little of

Edinburgh Review, No. lxxxvüi., p. 301.

152 	" THE CONSTITUTION OF MAN."

consistency and of truth is to be found in such statements and opinions as, in support of their cause, they have hazarded in regard to the organs of sense and external nature in general, will presently appear, when we shall have shewn that the principle in dispute, instead of being contrary to, is in reality in strict harmony with, = the analogy of all our known organs."'

This principle in physiology was now, for the first time, scientifically discussed, and its universal truth and great practical importance expounded. The consequences, indeed, which flow from it, are not even at’the present day adequately or generally appreciated; but as Nature is persistent in her course of action, and litera scripta man.et, the time will come when the public mind will awaken to its true import. Suffice it here to remark, that if the power of each mental organ to execute its function, bears, caeteris paribus, a relation to its size, it follows that under this condition the size of the brain in the moral and intellectual regions is, in each individual, the measure of his capacity for moral and intellectual improvement, and that in the case of races of men, it forms the index of their natural adaptation for civilization, and a useful guide to the laws and institutions suited to their dispositions.

In a letter, dated 5th January 182'7, also to Miss A‑‑ B‑, he writes:

" Last night my brother read one half of a paper On the Harmony between the Mental and Moral Constitution of Man and the Laws of Physical Nature, and will read the remainder next Thursday. It is nearly a new application of Phrenology, and by far the most important, in a practical point of view, that has yet been made. The Rev. Drs Gordon and Thomson were present, and much interest seemed to be excited. The main object is to shew that all the laws which God has instituted for the government of this world, are characterised by the purest benevolence, and have for their object the happiness of His creatures ; and that there are no exceptions to this, and consequently that, even in this world, a much higher degree of happiness

DR COMBE'S PROFESSIONAL SUCCESS.		153

is attainable than has hitherto been witnessed. This, you will perceive, is not new ; but the clearness, consistency, and practical facilities which Phrenology communicates to it, make it in reality unlike and superior to any exposition yet given. It is this which furnishes the connecting link between, and the usefulness of, the different sciences, instead of leaving them, as they now too much are, mere exercises for the understanding. The full exposition will be too long for the Journal, but he thinks of publishing it separately."

This is the first notice of " The Constitution of Man, considered in Relation to External Objects," a work which has since obtained a large circulation, and led to not a little controversy.

In consequence of the increasing success of George and Andrew Combe in their several professions, they left their residence in Brown Square, and in May 1827 removed to No. 25 Northumberland Street, in the New Town.

The following letter, written by Dr Combe to his niece, Miss Cox, in September 182'7, records an incident which gave him great pleasure, and served to encourage him in his professional exertions:

	Tell Tell your aunt Jean," says he, " that I stand in great need of a
friend to keep me down just now. Sir George and Lady Mackenzie
have left town to‑day, and they have presented me with a handsome
silver coffee‑pot, inscribed, ‘ To Andrew Combe, M.D., from Sir
George and Lady Mackenzie, in testimony of their high estimation of
his character, and of their deeply‑felt gratitude for his most kind and
friendly, and unceasing exertions in behalf of their much‑lamented
daughter‑1827.' If I can stand this, you will think it more than
might have been expected ; and, in fact, it was so totally unexpected,
that my mind was for a time quite melted by it. To me it is a very
valuable memorial, and gratifies many faculties besides Self‑Esteem
and Love of Approbation."

The high estimation here expressed by Sir George and Lady Mackenzie for Dr Combe continued unabated and unclouded during their lives. Sir George survived him only about fifteen months, his first wife having predeceased him.

1 54	DECLINES TO BECOME PRESIDENT OF THE,

The Phrenological Society having proposed to elect him its president, he wrote the following humorous letter, in which, under the guise of a third person, he urges his own disqualifications for the office :—Its only interest consists in its containing a delineation by himself of some of the peculiarities of his personal appearance and mental constitution.

" To WILLIAM SCOTT, Esq., President of the Phrenological Society.

‘° EDINBURGH, 26th November‑1827.

" Having, on the evening of our last meeting, accidentally heard that a plot is on foot to elevate to the dignity of President a very worthy friend of mine, for whom I have long felt the greatest affection and respect, but of whose fitness for the office I entertain sundry wellgrounded doubts, I cannot refrain from calling upon you, whose influence in the Society's councils is justly so great, to consider the matter well and anxiously, before you allow any body of conspirators, however respectable, to put into your shoes a successor who may be totally unable to fill them.
" I urge the following reasons to show my friend's inability to discharge the duties of the office :—
" First, then, a very essential requisite for the president seems to me to be, the power of communicating his ideas with that degree, at least, of fluency, that shall not lacerate the Benevolence of the members, in their efforts at listening to and understanding him. Now, the very opposite of this qualification the individual proposed has always been eminently distinguished for displaying in a rare degree of perfection.
" Another requisite, perhaps not less essential, is, that he should have some ready command of ideas connected with the subjects under discussion ; but I have my friend's own authority (and whose can be better ?) for stating that this qualification, if possessed by him at all, is so only in that minute degree that makes its existence altogether imperceptible (in any other case I should have added ‘ to the hearer,? but in his, I must say) to the bystander.
" A third requisite is, that in addition to the ideas and to the command of words already mentioned, he should (in accordance with the law of size being a measure of power), have a thorax and larynx large and powerful enough to receive and to expel with sufficient force and velocity that quantity of air which is necessary to the production of audible, and particularly of intelligible, sounds,‑endowments, which I grieve to say, the proposed individual could never boast of enjoying.

PHRENOLOGICAL SOCIETY.

155

"A fourth requisite is, that the person who is destined to occupy such an ostensible situation in the Society's meetings should have an external aspect, or what we call the natural language, of perfect civility at least, if not of suavity. Now, I have heard it alleged that your proposed successor, although by no means ferocious in his habits, does not always present this agreeable phasis of character in his outward man, even when his inner is in a state of perfect tranquillity.
" A fifth consideration is, that looking forward to the approaching visit of our great and illustrious founder (Dr Spurzheim), it becomes a positive duty in the Society to have some one at its head, who, like yourself, may be able to preside with dignity and success both at its philosophical and convivial meetings; a function for which I know that the proposed gentleman holds himself remarkably unqualified ; as he has every reason to believe, that at a convivial meeting in particular, the very sight of his face (for by some strange mechanical manoeuvre his body, notwithstanding its being two good ells in length, frequently almost disappears from sight,)* at the head of a table would suffice to spoil the enjoyment of a whole evening, however determined to be happy the company might be. I do not go so far as to affirm, that the solemnity of his natural language would actually endanger the curdling of the generous cream which generally accompanies the entrance of Mr Barry's much‑admired puddings and apple‑pies; but, for the sake of the company, even the slightest tendency that way ought to be carefully avoided.
" A sixth reason is, that the person elected should, on occasion, be able to say a few civil things in the way of compliment, and in an agreeable way, as it is allowed on all hands, that as a persuader, ‘Love of Approbation' is too influential a personage to be treated with neglect or disrespect. Now, it is historically recorded of the intended victim of your Benevolence, that he has scarcely ever been heard to titter a purely civil compliment in his whole life ; and when I add that his hairs are beginning to turn grey, you will allow, that to expect him to begin now with success, would be in utter contradiction to the first principles of phrenological science, and therefore not to be thought of.
" Lastly, on all grand occasions, societies, as well as individuals, should always set their best foot foremost, if they wish to command respect. Now, I have no hesitation in saying (and I know that my friend will excuse me for it,) that your proposed successor is by no

# Dr Combe's tall stature arose chiefly from the length of his lower extremities, and as in sitting he reclined a good deal backwards, from weakness, he appeared rather short at table.

156	ADVICE TO A YOUNG PATIENT.

means the foot that ought to be put foremost on the occasion of such an event as a visit from Dr Spurzheim.
" Finally, it is my firm belief that if you persist in nominating the said gentleman to the said high office, you will excite his Cautiousness to such a degree as will not greatly add to the already dim lustre of his manifestations. And, to conclude, if the Society will, in the exercise of its undoubted wisdom, please to elect a better‑qualified person to succeed yourself, I shall answer for it, that the individual proposed will be perfectly satisfied with the intention, and hold himself equally honoured as if he were seated in the chair which you, Sir, have occupied with so much advantage to the Society ; and that he will continue to discharge the duties of the private station for which his development has fitted him, leaving to those for whom they were‑intended the possession of the honours which they are best able to
bear.
" In thus freely stating and urging my opinions on this most important subject, you may perhaps wonder what motives can have induced me, who may almost be styled the silent gentleman, to break through my usual habits of taciturnity so far as to address you at such length ; but the simple fact is, that your proposed successor is one of my oldest and most intimate friends ; we played together in infancy, were at school together in boyhood, studied together, and travelled together in youth, shared together in many moving accidents by sea and land, and have lived together so long that my hair, like his, is already turning to grey. In this way, I feel interested in his happiness and fortunes, as if they were my own ; and it is to save him from new trials that I now exert myself and intrude upon your attention, in the hope that you will take the case into your serious consideration and act with true benevolence. Meantime, then, I remain, with great respect, Mr President, yours very sincerely,

ANDw. COMBE.

This epistle was read to the Society on 29th November 1827; but the members, although much amused by Dr Combe's humorous representation of his own deficiencies, declined to give effect to his objections, and unanimously elected him to the chair, the duties of which he ably discharged.
The following letter, written to a young patient, is interesting and instructive. It is dated 10th February 1829.

	To MISS CD
MY DEAR DIADaM,‑I have already mentioned to you in conver‑

ADVICE TO A YOUNG PATIENT.		157

sation, the expectation which Dr Thomson and I formed of your future progress towards recovery, provided you yourself lend that assistance which we confidently anticipate from your own good sense, and which, you will allow me to add, is doubly due from you towards those excellent friends who have already sacrificed so much for you, and whose duties towards you would be rendered light and pleasant in no small degree by your zealously devoting yourself to do every, even the minutest thing, that can promote your restoration. I am anxious to impress this upon you ; for, to speak plainly, I am afraid that your persisting to lie with the chest uncovered and the feet cold, when you have been so often warned of their bad effects in retarding your getting well, is, when carefully examined, not only a failure in duty towards yourself in neglecting that measure of health which the Creator has committed to your charge, but it is also a failure of duty towards those who have so cheerfully dedicated their time and trouble to your comfort and recovery. All of us are too apt to look only, or, at least, too much, at what we have to expect from others, and concern ourselves greatly too little about what we owe TO those about us ; and, in reminding you of the necessity of exacting as little unnecessary trouble and attention as possible from your neighbours, I merely do what I thank my friends for doing by me, and what in my heart I believe you will inwardly thank me for in return. You have good sense and good feeling enough to bear being put right, when you go wrong, perhaps unconsciously to yourself. Suppose, for instance, that by neglecting warmth to the feet and chest, and by sitting up in bed for ten minutes now and then, you postpone the period of your recovery a month or six weeks (which is a very low estimate), what does it amount to in plain language ? Just to this ; that for a certain disagreeable feeling caused by stockings, &c., you consent to injure your own health and impair your own usefulness, and, at the same time, impose a duty of attendance and restraint upon your friends, for a period of several weeks, when by sacrificing as much of your own comfort for a time, as they habitually do of theirs for your sake, you would spare them this extra demand upon their kindness. It is, in fact, the same as if they were to refuse you a service because its performance would be in some respects disagreeable to them. But this, I am sure, requires only to be laid plainly before you to insure every exertion on your own part. I admit most readily that your patience and judgment have been long and severely tried, and I am glad to bear witness to the excellent manner in which you have, generally speaking, sustained the trial ; but for this very reason that you have done well, I would have you, if possible, do better. Perfection none of us can reach ; but the higher we aim, the higher we are likely to

158	ADVICE TO A YOUNG PATIENT.

attain. And if you knew the positive delight it gives to a professional adviser to find every effort readily and cordially seconded by his patients, you would be impelled, even on that ground, to stretch a point to fulfil his injunctions. Both as an adviser and as a patient, I can say from experience, that there is not a more pleasing mode of manifesting grateful feelings for professional services than that of zealous and hearty co‑operation.

" Having said thus much, I shall add nothing more to induce you NEVER to sit up, and ALWAYS to keep the chest and feet warm, except the assurance that it will shorten the period of your probation by several weeks ; and I, for one, shall rejoice to see it happily at an end.

" As I am writing at any rate, you will not object to a few words being appended on the subject of Phrenology. All knowledge is useful, and is to be valued only for its use ; and, therefore, the first question in acquiring a new truth, is, How may I turn it to account ? Now, there is a use which, in your present situation, you may make of Phrenology; and it is simple enough. You may pass your faculties in review daily, and inquire of each what it has been about. If it has been too active, keep it resolutely within limits next day. If too indolent, stir it. If Combativeness has advanced opposition, tell it so ; and do not allow the organ of Language to supply it with a single word till the fit is off. If Self‑Esteem or Acquisitiveness ask anything inconsiderately, set Conscientiousness and Benevolence to judge between you and others by exchanging places. At night, ask Benevolence what good it has led you to do to‑day, in sparing others and adding to their happiness. Put a similar question to Conscientiousness, to Veneration, to Love of Approbation, to Adhesiveness, to intellect, &c., and if they cannot give a distinct and satisfactory account of themselves, take them to task, and resolve on enforcing better behaviour. Phrenology tells you that you have such faculties, and He who made them did not make them in vain. To me it seems an invaluable service done by Phrenology, that it puts it out of a man's power to blind himself to the purposes for which he exists; and if he fails to execute them, he does it not in ignorance, but in wilful negligence. If God has implanted Conscientiousness, Benevolence, Veneration, &c., He made them to be exercised ; and if we do not exercise them, ours, in every sense, will be the fault and the punishment.

" On reading this over, I perceive in it a mixture of motives, sketched rather than filled up; but if you cannot discover the meaning, I shall be happy to explain myself more fully.

" I shall expect the leaf to be fairly turned over and pinned down when I see you again, and am meantime," &c.

LETTERS ON MEDICAL SUBJECTS.		1J(û

CHAPTER X.

LETTERS BY DR COMBE ON MEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS:ON THE EXERCISE OF THE BRAIN AND TAE MIND‑ON TAE IVFLUENCE OF DISEASE ON THE RELIGIOUS FEELINGS‑ON TAE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN RECEIVING AND BESTOWING KINDNESS.‑TO A YOUNG LADY ON MENTAL IMPROVEMENT.‑LETTER CHARACTERISTIC OF DR CObLBE.‑LETTER ON THE EDUCATION OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN.‑LETTER TO DR CLARK‑‑TO A PATIENT.

IN 1829 and 1830, Dr Combe continued the practice of his profession, and no incidents occurred requiring special notice in his biography. His letters, during these years, form a voluminous and striking record of his zeal, activity, and judgment. The following are selected, as being either characteristic of himself, or interesting from their topics.

ON TAE EXERCISE OF THE BRAIN AND MIND.

		" EDINBURGH, 5th May 1830.
" To E 			I‑, Esq., Devonshire.

" I resolved to write to you, to draw your attention to the principle which regulates the exercise of the brain and mind, and which chews in what respect your present state of health arises from the circumstances and excitement in which you live. During life, every active thought and every working of feeling are attended by, and cannot occur without, a corresponding action of the brain; and as the latter is subjected by the Creator to all the laws of organised and animal life,

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it follows that all mental excitement implies an equal degree of cerebral excitement; and that if the mind be very long or highly stimulated by any subject addressed either to feeling or intellect, the brain will also enter into the same state. When we are wearied by application, and unable to continue study, for instance, from exhausted power, it is not, the immaterial principle which is tired, or which requires repose and sleep; it is the material organ which, in obedience to the laws‑which regulate the animal system, suffers fatigue from over‑exercise, and contracts disease. Hence it follows, as a necessary inference, that however delightful the study we are engaged in, or however important and high in their nature the feelings we are cultivating may be, if we go beyond that point, either in duration or intensity, of exercise which the mind (influenced as it is by the constitution of its organ) can bear with impunity, we transgress a law of God in the very act of doing so, as much as if we neglected these altogether. Now, from every thing that I can learn, this seems to be your course of action; and it is so serious an error that I must not allow you to go on committing it, without making an effort to point it out to you, and to induce you to forsake it.
" The brain, it must never be lost sight of, is regulated by the same laws of exercise as all other parts of the body. If too little employed, it becomes weak ; if moderately and regularly exercised in all its parts, its state becomes that of health and vigour; and if too much exercised, it becomes irritable and excitable, but weak and incapable of resistance; just as, whe man over‑works himself, he lies restless and uneasy, instead of falling into the sound sleep which follows from moderate exercise. If some mental powers are kept in constant activity, and others are never used, you bring

MEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.		161

opposite causes into operation to produce weakness and disease in the same brain, and induce a proneness to irregular action. But the Creator obviously endowed man only with powers which He considered necessary, and intended to be used; and in attaching infirmity as a consequence to both neglect and excess of action, He clearly pointed out His will to be, that all should be employed, and that none should be allowed to engross our whole time and attention, however exalted their objects and high their functions.
" Now my fear is, that you are living under an undue excitement of the devotional feelings, and that you are training these to a permanence of action which is incompatible with the health of the structure with which God has connected them, under certain conditions which you are infringing. Some constitutions can withstand excitement longer than others, but sooner or later all give way. Another effect also follows, which is worth attending to. All the functions of the body are dependent on the brain for nervous energy to enable them to act, and if this be too much concentrated in the head by continual mental activity, the other parts, such as the stomach and lungs, suffer from the deficiency; and impaired general health is the result.
" If, therefore, you are conscious that you are at present (and will be still more so in shire) in the way of having some of your feelings either intensely excited or kept long in a state of activity, as I have every reason to believe,‑I would just urge upon you that a still higher duty calls upon you to forego the pleasure attending the earlier stages of the excitement, from the consideration that the consequences of putting yourself in the way of it, will, in all probability, be more serious than you or any other creature have a right to expose yourself to. I had occasion frequently

L

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DR COMBE'S LETTERS ON

to see a gentleman whose intellect and feelings were kept in a state of great activity, with insufficient intervals of rest and change of subject. His excellent constitution enabled him to despise all warnings for about two years, but then his account was summed up. His fatigued and jaded brain fairly stood still, and the balance hung long between idiocy and fever. Fortunately the latter prevailed, and for weeks he lay motionless and almost senseless, and then slowly recovered. He saw his error when too late, and was grateful that his mind was left to him.

	“This was an extreme case, for the application had
been intense; but if I do not err, yours is similar in
nature, although different in degree. I may be allowed
to mention to you, as an example, the case of an indi
vidual whom you do not know, and who presents so
strongly the appearance of a person some of whose facul
ties are overstrained, and others weak from inactivity,
that I never think of him without anxiety. So far as
my limited intercourse with him went (but as this was ,’
limited I speak with diffidence), he seemed to me so F
Inuch under the habitual dominion of excited devotional =r
feelings, that the faculties connected with other inter‑ : t,
ests were so far weakened, that he could not by any,l

,, effort get his mind to dwell upon any other subject long

enough to see its true relations. This, however, is nod y a healthy state; for no mind is so well prepared to take right views of the relation in which we staled to

God, and of the duties which He requires at our hands,., as that which is fully capable of comprehending becoming acquainted with the manifestations of power both in the internal and external credrions, and in the adaptation of all the parts of the latter to the improvement and happiness of man. So far from berg alive to external existences of any kind, or even of the

MEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.		163

relation of the mind to the body, and the necessity of
yielding submission to the laws which God has ap
pointed to regulate these, Mr		presents the
aspect of a person walking through the world fixed in
contemplation on higher scenes, and scarcely aware of
being in it.

“ Do not, however, misunderstand me. I do not wish to see any one devoted exclusively to worldly interests and pursuits. But as we are placed by higher wisdom than our own in a material world, are charged with duties having a reference to our situation, and gifted with faculties to take cognizance of, and a due interest in worldly things and worldly duties, I think that we may err as much in holding these to be beneath us, as in attaching too much importance to them. And in addition to all this, it seems to me that the most beneficial way of exciting religious feeling, is to cultivate an acquaintance with the works of God, and to seek constantly to act in obedience to all His laws. By attending to the conditions of health, for example, and to the due employment of all the powers of the mind which He has given us, we shew our respect to Him; for the truest homage which we can render to any being, is to seek to know him and to obey his will; and if He has given us faculties which we do not choose to consider worthy of employment, instead of being humble instruments in His hand, we set ourselves up against Him in ignorance and presumption.

" The obvious inference from all this is, that the Creator having given us faculties which take an interest in our families, friends, and fellow‑creatures, which are intended to regulate our dealings and intercourse with each other in the ordinary business of life, and which delight in the contemplation and knowledge of the external world, and also given us muscles and other organs

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wherewith to accomplish the commands of the will, ALL of which require regular daily exercise to keep them in health, we ought, instead of devoting our faculties exclusively to one object, to employ them upon all in their relative spheres, and to give due exercise to the body at the same time. I am not well enough acquainted with your mode of life to say how far you depart from this rule; but having the principle before you, you will easily ascertain this for yourself. But as the fact is obvious that you are living under too great and exclusive excitement, I would strongly urge upon you the necessity of adopting a variety of employments, and of giving the brain repose and the body strength by greater muscular exercise, with, if possible, an object in view, such as digging in a garden, working with tools, and riding. Coupled with this, I would recommend the tepid bath, cold to the head, good diet, and strict attention to the bowels. Walking, with an object in view, is an admirable preventive, and was felt so much to be so by one of my patients who suffered from this cause, that he voluntarily walked twenty miles a‑day, for weeks in succession, botanising, and got quite well.
“If you attend to these directions, viz., to avoid excitement of the mind in the one exclusive direction, to take an interest in other pursuits, and to persevere in daily out‑door exercise, such as gardening affords, you will gain mental power and nervous vigour; and, in that state, taking eight grains calomel, and as many of valerian, and three of carbonate of ammonia thrice a‑day, would be very useful; but unless the cause be removed, this or any other medicine would do no good."
The next letter relates to the case of a young lady who was ill of consumption, and subsequently died. It
was written to Miss E	F‑, and treats of

MEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.		1655

THE INFLUENCE OF DISEASE ON THE RELIGIOUS FEELINGS.

" EDINBURGH, 10th. July 1830.
~~ I have only an hour's notice of an opportunity to London, and so must again be very brief. Indeed, I write chiefly to say that your kind remembrance of Miss N‑, which I read to her from your note, gratified her very much. She returns her affectionate respects and best thanks. She has been unable to speak for six days past, and may continue so a few days more. She writes in pencil what she wishes to say. On Wednesday she was very nervous, and between my morning and evening visits wrote for me a few lines, which I am sure will interest you. ' I have had very little hope of recovery since the Sunday I was so nervous (about six weeks ago) ; but I could look forward to death with composure, except when I thought of my friends. Today the nervousness has returned: the prospect of death terrifies me; and the distress that I know my friends will suffer after I am gone, makes me perfectly miserable. I confess I have a strong desire to live, I was so happy when I was well. Shew this to 1VIr C., and tell me truly if you think my state of mind very sinful. I think Mr Wilkie (the clergyman) would.'
" My object in copying this interesting paper, is to make a remark that may be useful to you. I told Miss N‑, that assuredly her state was not sinful; that her fears at that time were morbid and involuntary, and therefore not sinful; that, formerly, when the nervous feeling was absent, she viewed death with composure and resignation; and that that was the real state of her mind, and for which alone she was answerable. I explained to her that apprehension and misery were often excited by disease, and that despondency was thus

DR COMBE'S LETTERS ON

produced, which went off with the cause which gave rise to it, although the danger and external situation remained in other respects the same; and that the judgment ought then to be directed to the task of submitting to the depression as to any other symptom, but ought not to view it as a new light taken by a healthy mind. I added, that by next day I was sure the apprehension would be gone, although I could not say her recovery could be more possible.

“These statements, and others of a similar nature, cheered her; and when I told her in answer to some self‑reproaches, that they were ill‑founded, and that had I ever seen her doing or thinking amiss when in health, I had that respect for her qualities and sense, that I would at once have told her, she burst out into tears, with at the same time a smile of inward satisfaction, and in a little was greatly relieved. Next day she was, as I expected, easy and tranquil. She then wrote, I Did you ever know any one so ill as I am recover ?' On answering that I could give her only a glimmering of hope, she was perfectly resigned and cheerful; and in a little asked me some questions relating to ordinary life. Since then she has been quite cheerful.

"If ever you happen to be oppressed with fears for futurity, bear in mind that the dictates of reason and those of disease are very different indeed in authority; and that the proper test of the soundness of your apprehensions is, whether your own conscience approves of them when your vigour of mind is entire; and that if ou are once at ease on this score, you ought not to suffer the depression of disease to assume the weight of a higher authority.

" I am Still almost as busy as before."

MEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.		167

	The subject of the following letter to Miss G
H‑, is the

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BEING THE MERE RECIPIENT, AND BEING
THE BESTOWER, OF GOODWILL.

" EDINBURGH, lath August 1830.

~~ There is a great difference between being the mere recipient of goodwill and kindly feelings, and being the bestower of them. The former is a very easy and very agreeable function, requiring no exertion and conferring no merit, and imparting no lively consciousness of a successful fulfilment of duty. The latter alone is the true cause and source of happiness, and alone entitles to a feeling of self=approbation. The light in which to view this subject is to suppose all the world to act on the same principle. If we are content to receive goodwill, we may sit long enough before we are gratified, if all the world is doing the same, as there will be nobody to bestow it. If, on the other hand, all are acting on the opposite principle of manifesting goodwill, all are necessarily gratified both as dispensers and receivers. Circumstances can scarcely form a sufficient reason for not fulfilling the active part. They may modify the extent to which we can go, but in the most unfavourable circumstances they may and ought to make the desire at least to do good perfectly apparent. As an example, take Miss N‑‑. I have often said that the chief cause of the deep and extended interest felt in her by all ages, sexes, and conditions of people who know her, is the unwearied activity of her good feelings in making or wishing to make others happy. Can any situation be more unfavourable than hers for continuing to shew this, now that she cannot speak, that the circle of her interests is limited to her own small family, and perhaps three or four friends besides, and that she has

168

DR COMBE'S LETTERS ON

death constantly in view ? I think not, and yet, circumscribed as her sphere is, there is not a day in which she does not extend her influence in some way or other to add to the happiness or lessen the suffering even of those whom she never saw, but who are known to her through her friends. An instance of a singular kind occurred two days ago." (Here the details are given of the manner in which she urged her friends to use certain measures, which she pointed out, for promoting the interests of a gentleman who was about to be married to a young lady whom she highly esteemed, but who had no fortune.) " Now whatever her success may be, here was an active act of kindness to a fellow‑creature, which, if he ever knows it, cannot fail to be highly gratifying, and which she performed without coming forth from that retirement and delicacy of feeling which we all admire, and without neglecting the seriousness of her own situation, which many persons would have held as justifying even forgetfulness of all worldly interests. Yet it would be difficult to point out a purer or a higher state of feeling in direct preparation for that change which, in all probability, is awaiting her. In like manner, in regard to Dr S‑‑, who is suffering most severely from acute rheumatic fever: Miss N‑‑ was once the victim of a similar attack, and her whole sympathies are roused about his sufferings ; an east wind and gloomy day make her think and almost dream of ‘ the poor Doctor,' from recollecting how she used to be affected by them. She can, it is true, do him no good; but the very interest she feels in his state is grateful to his feelings.
" A mind madIfesting such active kindness in circumstances which would apparently dispense with any exhibition of it, and justify the concentration of the thoughts upon.one's own situation, is to me, and must

MEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.		169

be to all, an object of delightful contemplation, and makes one grateful for the privilege one enjoys in corning into contact with it. They who, having the power within themselves, do not act and feel in a similar way, lose an amount of enjoyment in the exercise of it, and a hold on the affections and moral nature of others, which they would lament as privations if they had once experienced the advantages and pleasures attending it. You will easily see that my time is very limited, as I have been obliged to write straight on, and must now stop short, with kind love to you all."

LETTER TO A YOUNG LADY ON THE SUBJECT OF HER STUDIES AND

MENTAL IMPROVEMENT.

To Miss E 		F‑‑.

°° EDINBURGH, August 1830.
" Your letter of 19th, communicating your mother's safe arrival, and giving me an account of your doings and studies, gratified me very much; and as I have sometimes, as you allege, been obliged to scold you for your faults, it is not less just than pleasant for me to tell you this. Every line of it indicates a healthful tone and vigour of mind, which, to me, who have long known that you were capable of higher manifestations than you had ever ventured upon, and who was so anxious to urge you by every motive to make the fullest use of the powers which God has given you, to the increase of your own happiness, and to the comfort of your friends, were very pleasing. I always had a good opinion of you; but the respect I felt for you was for a long time repressed by the consciousness that you were rather a diminished edition of what Nature had made you, than your true self. For some time past, however, you have

170

DR COMBE'S LETTERS ON

been making great strides towards the assumption of your own qualities; and if you go on, your friends will have the felicity of seeing you appear in full folio, with a handsome binding and gilt leaves; a tome, in short, of due weight and authority, entitled to take its station on the same shelf with the wisest and the best.
" I mean to encourage, not to flatter you by the above most misty simile. Your mind is gaining in power and activity, and your higher feelings are assuming a more direct control; and the result will be, that you will become happier and more independent, while, at the same time, your moral nature will take a still kindlier and livelier interest in the individuals into whose society choice or circumstances may lead you.
“I was happy to learn that the ‘ Constitution of Man' had interested you, and that you had perceived its utility, and the erroneousness of your prepossessions against the views unfolded in it. Many estimable persons cried out in alarm that it was a dangerous book; but all that has yet been proved against it is, that it is dangerous to error and to the existence of human prejudices. It points to the will of God as revealed in his works, as of at least equal authority to his will as revealed in his word; whereas many well‑meaning people hold it to be a sin to attend to the former at all, forgetting altogether that before the word was, man had no other guide than the laws and works of God: and in the large portion of the earth where Christianity is unknown, what other guides have they even now than the natural moral law, debased and degraded as it is too frequently by a mixtur"ith absurd superstitions ? Under the prevailing religious systems which ascribe so much to grace and so little to man himself, the latter is discouraged from strenuous exertion in the very field in which he was sent to labour. While, on the other

MEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.		171

hand, the phrenological principles say,‑You are sent here with certain capacities and certain duties to fulfil; if you avail yourselves of your talents and advantages, and faithfully discharge these duties, happiness will follow in the amelioration of your own nature, in the greater happiness of those about you, and in the better preparation which this will bring along with it for a higher state of existence. Who is the most likely to receive the blessing of God‑he who seeks in daily life to fulfil the duties assigned him, or he who makes light of these, and devotes himself to meditation and prayer? If you now read my two letters on Mental Exercise as a means of Health, and the essay on Derangement from Religious Excitement,* I think you will get hold of views which will afford you much peace of mind, and be the means of relieving you from anxiety in the day of sickness. The aim of the I Living Temple' is the same as that to which the application of Phrenology to religion would lead; but from Mr Wright's unacquaintance with the bodily and mental constitution of man, he wanders widely and vaguely where the path seems to the Phrenologist well‑marked and straight. But enough of this for one letter. If you wish it, and either answer or ask questions, or take an interest in it, I shall be very happy to resume the subject when leisure permits.
" Only one word more before parting. I would recommend you to persevere with reading which requires some thinking as you go along. If you read history, for instance, stop to consider motives and characters, and to estimate actions according to a scale of morality, without being blinded either by their apparent glory, or by a leaning for or against the nation by whom they

~ See Phren. Journal, vol. vi., p. 109 and 283, and pp. 38 and 259.

172

were performed.

DR COMBE'S LETTERS ON

It may at first sight seem of little consequence to you whether A was right or B wrong, or whether a glorious war of a century ago was just or unjust; but observe that the same habit and spirit which would make you think before you approved, operate in your judgments of private events and characters, and if you make a practice of seeking the moral side of the question in an unbiassed spirit in a public transaction, your tendency will invariably be to take the moral qualities as the standard in private, and to act upon the highest view to which your mind has been accustomed.
" To obtain a general knowledge of the great laws of Nature, I would strongly recommend your devoting some attention to chemistry, for which your mind is excellently adapted, and in which, after crossing the threshold, you would take great interest. The whole religious and moral faculties rejoice in the views of the Deity opened up in such a study. I know that in this, as in other matters, it requires the mind to know a little of the subject before an interest can be felt, but after a short time every step leads on to another. It is utter nonsense to say that a little knowledge will make you less amiable, less humble, or less domestic. The more the mind is liberalised and expanded, the better you will become, and the fitter for any sphere in which it may be your destiny to move. It was long before we could get you to take any interest in Phrenology, because, till you knew generally what it was, you had no point of contact with it. Now, you can judge better what its advantages are likely to be. If I have sermonised too long, set it down to regard and affection for you, which wish to do you good; and not to any liking for spontaneous perorations. If I did not see a large capacity for improvement in you, I could not write to you so."

MEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.		173

TO THE SAME.

" 4th November 1830.
~~ I now come to the second head of the discourse. I am always very happy to have a letter from you, and the longer it is, the better I like it; and therefore I have to thank you for the respectable length of the one last received, although I fear I must get up another scold some day or other to frighten you to serious exertion, in communicating your views of what you are reading or doing. Recollect this is a duty, and not a mere recreation, and that it is of importance to form sound habits of thinking, by attempting to express yourself on general principles. And recollect, also, that as I have a kind of charge of your moral and intellectual nature, I must have some credit by your improvement, and not allow all your good resolutions to end in dreams, so long at least as I can jog your conscience with the point of my pen. If you had only gone to Chatham with us that day, yon would have been greatly edified by the instructive and philosophical conversation Bob and I had on the top of the coach on the subject of Habit and Attention, as connected with moral and intellectual education. How we fell on it I cannot tell, but I scarcely ever had a more satisfactory conversation than on that occasion. The principle we agreed upon and discussed in its details was, that as promptitude in thinking and readiness in decision on good grounds were the grand requisites for right action, every effort ought to be made from infancy upwards to secure their attainment; that habit was to be acquired only by repetition; and that, therefore, whatever we did, or wished to do, whether business, reading, amusement, conversation, or any thing else, we ought to set about with at‑

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DR COMBE'S LETTERS ON

tention, and direct the mind to it, without allowing different feelings, or a distinct train of thought, to be sailing through the mind, when we were apparently engaged in something totally different. If we listen, let us listen with our whole powers; if we play, let us play with consentaneousness of action among the faculties; if we read, let us dcQ in the same way; if we hear of something affecting other people, let us try to enter into it as if it were our own. A vigorous and most useful command of mental power will thus be attained, which is infinitely more valuable than any amount of mere knowledge, and which will fit us for reading Jacotot, or any other book with effect, and reflecting upon it, so as not to lose hold of it. This I take to be something de Fellenbergish.
" 6th Nov.‑I daresay you will perceive the practical application of the principle readily enough. We meet almost daily with people whose conversation is either indifferent, or a positive bore, from its vapidity and inanity. While they are with us we can, of course, do nothing of importance with full attention; and, therefore, to make the most of them, the principle alluded to would recommend our giving full attention even to them, and, if we can, turning the conversation to a better account. By doing so, we improve our own mental talents, and increase the power of voluntary application. I was,going to write an article on this subject, but am too much occupied otherwise: Think over it, and write one for me. By the way, I would advise you to read I Conversations on Chemistry' with much attention, and you will understand many things better, and find interest where you have none now. I wish you were here to attend my brother's course this season, which will be greatly extended and full of practical knowledge."

MEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.		)_7rJ

The following letter is

CHARACTERISTIC OF DR COMBE.

‘4 To Mrs H 		F

" EDINBURGH, September 1830.

" Many, many thanks to you, for your kind and welcome letter. It makes another bright speck in my associations with you and yours, for it recalls many recollections which I am fond of cherishing, and should be more loath than ever to part with, now that you are all away, and that I must draw so largely on the past for the enjoyment of your society. After having experienced the delights of social intercourse with those on whom we have been accustomed to rely in the full confidence of rational friendship, it is hard to feel one's faculties all at once deprived, as it were, of an outlet, and obliged to seek out new channels for the interchange of thought and sentiment; and yet thankfulness that I knew you at all, not unnaturally mingles with regret at the little prospect which exists of the broken circle being again permanently united. I once imagined, that the principle of attachment was too small an element in me to be the source of either pleasure or pain, and used to accuse myself of indifference; and it was not till I left home that I discovered my mistake. Repeated separations by removal from friends, whom I had known long enough to esteem and regard, have taught me differently; and now I often find my thoughts wandering with those with whom I had contracted an intimacy, and even see friends who have been dead for years, as distinctly before me as if we had parted but yesterday. In retracing the past, one likes

DR COMBE'S LETTERS ON

to recall it in its most pleasing forms, and for this reason I shall long retain the memory of our sail to Fife on that lovely evening, in the end of July. I had previously been far from well, and on that day experienced the internal and indescribable sensations of returning health, and was, disposed to be happy. The face of nature was in harmony with this stales, and beamed with beauty, almost for the first time, through a gloomy summer. Whether I was unusually susceptible, or the varied, rich, and placid scenes, had only their natural influence, I cannot tell; but certain it is, that that evening was one of bright and pure enjoyment to me, and to which I look back with peculiar delight. It was doubly pleasing also to every feeling, to be able thus naturally to associate you with all that is exquisite and beautiful in the external world, and amiable and excellent in the moral. Little M ‑'s cheerful and intelligent joyousness, and lively sensibility, as displayed in her song and occasional remarks, went entirely along with the current of my sensations, and gave additional interest to the scene."

The following letter, dated 5th August 1831, relates to

THE EDUCATION OE A YOUNG GENTLEMAN.

" To K	L 	, Esq.

"Edward is seventeen, essentially imaginative, with a good opinion of himself, and without any fixed views as to a profession. Had the latter been determined on, it would have been comparatively easy to decide what to do with him next winter; but that not being the case, the consideration becomes necessarily more general.

" So far as my knowledge of human nature goes, active tendencies, when in excess, are not to be repressed

MEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.		1 77

or removed by merely trying to prevent their exhibition. Too much imagination is not to be got the better of by merely making the effort to arrest its flights, and saying, I Now, I will break myself off this, and force my mind back to sober realities till I acquire the habit of controlling it.' Too much pride, in like manner, is not to be subdued by bidding the person refrain from doing so and so, because that is mere pride. The better and more effectual plan seems to be to employ actively the mental powers which are conversant with real knowledge and the fixed laws of creation. Imagination is thus left unexercised in its exclusive state; and the mind is strengthened to take pleasure in positive knowledge. Imagination has still ample healthy scope; but it comes in in conjunction with the other intellectual powers, and acquires something of their definite precision, instead of launching out into the vague and boundless, which is, I suspect, Edward's tendency. And in regard to pride, nothing seems to me so well calculated to bring it into its proper sphere, as communicating a knowledge of the nature and destinies of man, of his faculties and their uses, and of the laws which regulate the material world. If we thus call into action the weaker faculties, we strengthen them positively by exercising them and creating a habit, and weaken those in excess negatively by restraining them in their excess of action. Whereas, if we merely check the excess when it rises in the mind, we shall not impair the vigour of its growth, but leave it to burst forth on every new occasion.

" To apply this to Edward. He is verging on the period of life when habits are apt to become fixed, but when susceptibility still remains to receive and retain what is sedulously and systematically impressed. With him, then, it is now or never that his imaginative powers

Al

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must be placed under command; and that can be done only by serious study of natural and physical science, which, from its precision and definiteness, leaves little room for fancy, while, in the general views which it opens up, a splendid field for healthy imagination ii afforded.
“As to his plan of going to Paris, it has many advantages; but to a young man who does not feel the necessity of restricting the indulgence of imagination, and who is not under the implied control of a superior whom he loves, and to whose better knowledge he yields implicit obedience in attempting the direction of his thoughts and studies, it presents many disadvantages. There is so much constantly in the way to increase (without his suspecting it) the very defects which you wish to remedy, that I should hesitate much before sending him there. That he would conduct himself in every respect as a gentleman, I can well believe; but Paris, beyond any other place I know, contains an accumulation of objects calculated to distract attention, and to weaken the mind (in one sense) by spreading it over a multiplicity and variety of objects, instead of teaching it concentration and fixity, which he requires. He would acquire French, it is true; but at the end of the winter he would return to you more uncertain than ever, with no plan of steady pursuit for the summer, and with the evils of indecision increased.
" Whereas, by bringing him home, and setting him to the diligent study of positive knowledge, you would fix his mind, encourage it to steady application, cultivate his weaker intellectual powers, curb his imagination, give him information useful for every pursuit, and have time to form a bent for him to a particular profession. At his age a decided and definite plan seems to me of paramount importance in giving vigour and

RIEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.		1%9

perseverance; and in this way an inferior plan, pursued in an undeviating spirit, will do more good than a better plan pursued in doubt. I need scarcely add, that I have written what I thought, without meaning more than to offer it to your own judgment who know all the circumstances so much better. It is a great pleasure to me to have friends like yourselves to whom I can always speak unreservedly, without fearing afterwards what will be the consequences."

The following is his first letter to Dr (now Sir James) Clark. It relates to a request made by Dr Clark that he would contribute articles to

THE MEDICAL CYCLOPEDIA.

" EDINBURGH, 23d October 1830.
64 MY DEAR SIR,‑I had the pleasure of receiving your letter inclosing the prospectus of the Medical Cy clopwdia yesterday evening, after it had gone to Dr J. S. Combe in Leith, who, perceiving that it was for me, immediately sent it up. Our friend Dr Scott mentioned to me a few days ago what was proposed to be done by the editors; and, on reading over his copy of the prospectus, I expressed my warm concurrence in the general plan, and added, that if a list of articles wanted could be transmitted here, I should be happy to give any assistance in my power, if I found among them any which I could conscientiously undertake. If I Insanity' had not been disposed of I might have taken it.
“It is proper to add, as you are not acquainted with my mental qualities, that I doubt very much whether I shall be able to be of any service to the editors. My general style of writing is too stiff, and too unvaried in the language, to suit a work like the Cy clopaedia ; and the tendency of my mind is to go back to principles,

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rather than to give a perspicuous narrative. Having very little command of words, I cannot write in that easy, fluent manner which is to be desiderated in all works that are meant to be read; and, accordingly, the charge of heaviness has often been brought against articles written for other purposes. I state these facts neither from affectation nor a wish to expose my own defects, but simply because you ask me to assist in a work which I approve of, and it is therefore necessary to assign the reasons which stand in the way of my doing any thing for it. Perhaps my friend Dr J. S. Combe might take Delirium Tremens. I have seen little of it, but he has been attached to the Leith Dispensary for several years, and must have treated it often. He has much acuteness, and very considerable general talent, as well as professional knowledge. I shall inquire, and let you know if he agrees.
“I regretted very much not having been able to see you again in London; as, after reading your book on Climate, I felt a strong desire to get better acquainted with its author. I was a sufferer from pulmonary complaints of a very serious aspect for several years, and in the capacity of invalid spent a winter at Leghorn, and another chiefly at Marseilles. Before setting out, I would have given any consideration for such a guide; and after I was out, I would have given any thing to have been able to prevent the misery I saw around me from the indiscriminate removal of patients of every kind from the comforts of home to the evils of exile, and to the actual increase of the disease under which they were labouring. Your book will do great good; and I have never read a work with the facts, sentiments, and opinions of which I so thoroughly agreed. I am j List going out, so write rather hurriedly, but remain," &c.

MEDICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.		181.

The next letter is presented as a specimen of the style in which he occasionally addressed a patient who hesitated to act according to his advice. The gentleman to whom it was written was highly educated and in independent circumstances, and had been ordered to travel in Italy for the restoration of his health.

To L‑‑ M‑1 EsQ.

" EDINBURGH, 27th October 1830.
	~~ My DEAR SIR,‑I regret exceedingly to learn that
you are still in London, when I was in hopes of hearing
from you of your arrival in Paris. I cannot look back
to this time last year, and review the evils you suffered
from your long residence even in Paris, and from the
inclemency of the weather, without much anxious solici
tude at the delay you are now making, and at the risk
you are incurring of drawing upon yourself the almost
irreparable mischiefs of a relapse; where, too, prudence
and an instant resolution to set out would go far to give
you absolute security. You promised faithfully to return
to the continent, and to spend the winter wherever was
considered best for you. I might fairly claim the fulfil
ment of your promise, because, by the interest and trouble
I have felt and taken to promote your welfare, I have
earned a right to exact it; and I know that you are not
the man to shrink from your word. But I would will
ingly drop this plea, and address myself entirely to your
reason, and ask, Is it prudent or safe in you, after the
painful lesson of last year, and the marked relief you
obtained the moment you entered a milder climate, thus
to risk a recurrence of scenes which may endanger your
whole future happiness, and health of mind and body ?
Reason pleads strongly against such a proceeding, and
I am sure you must be sensible of this. I have told
you formerly, and now repeat, that in matters of health,

182	LETTERS ON MEDICAL SUBJECTS.

I am entitled to urge my opinion and advice, and I would not be your friend if I did not. I have devoted years to the study and consideration of nervous diseases, and under many advantages. I have thoroughly investigated and thought over every, even the minutest, iota of your case. I know what you have escaped from; I know what your present liability is, and where your safety lies. Hitherto I have proffered no advice which has not been serviceable to you; and, therefore, it is neither presumption nor a blind impulse of self‑esteem in me to say, I am a better judge than yourself of what you now require, and that you ought to follow my advice yet, even in opposition to your own inclination. You will not say I am wrong in this conclusion. Your head is too logical, and your mind too honest, to arrive at a different result.
" Dr Abercrombie's book on the Intellectual Powers is out. Not a shadow of allusion to Phrenology in it!! I expected this."

DR COMBE ON MENTAL DERANGEMENT.		j 83

CHAPTER XI.

DR COMBE PUBLISHES "OBSERVATIONS ON MENTAL DERANGEMENT ; BEING AN APPLICATION OF THE PRINCIPLES OF PHRENOLOGY TO THE ELUCIDATION OF THE CAUSES SYMPTOMS NATURES AND TREATMENT OF INSANITY."‑HIS OFFER TO CONTRIBUTE TO THE ENCYCLOPtEDIA BRITANNICA REJECTED.

IT has been mentioned that Dr Combe, while studying in Paris, had followed, with deep interest, the lectures and demonstrations of Dr Spurzheim on the structure and functions of the brain, and of Dr Esquirol on mental derangement and the treatment of the insane. The advantages which he derived from these studies became early apparent in his professional career. While yet a young practitioner, he was consulted in important cases of insanity, and in the treatment of nervous diseases in general. It is difficult for individuals who have grown up to manhood under the lights which Pinel's writings and Dr Gall's discovery of the functions of the brain have shed on insanity, to conceive the darkness, in regard to the nature and treatment of this disease, in which not only educated men in general, but those members of the medical profession itself who had not studied these authors, were involved, during the first quarter of the present century. Dr Combe saw and desired to assist in dispelling this obscurity, and with this view published several articles on insanity in the Phrenological Journal; but the circulation of that work was too limited to enable him to make a general impression on the public mind. Ile, therefore, re‑

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quested his brother George to inquire of Professor Napier, who had succeeded Mr Jeffrey as editor of the Edinburgh Review, whether an article on insanity from Dr Combe's pen would be admitted into that periodical.
George, who was a personal friend of Mr Napier, in asking this question, mentioned that the article would be written on phrenological principles, but that, out of deference to the late editor of, the Review, the nomenclature of Phrenology would, if desired, be avoided. Mr Napier's answer, dated 4th December 1829, was to the effect, that, with his present views, he would not insert in the Review any article bottomed upon phrenologiccal principles, however clear it might be kept of the phrenological nomenclature; but that, if Dr Combe's article on insanity was not of that complexion, and was otherwise suitable, in plan and execution, to the objects and character of the Review, he should “have very great satisfaction in giving it a place."
As Dr Combe could not write on insanity without founding his views on phrenological principles, this was a direct negative to his proposal. A case, however, speedily presented itself, which forcibly awakened public attention to the subject. The circumstances were these :—
The father of Mr Edward Davies, of Philpot Lane, London, a tea‑dealer, had died when he was an infant. His mother had contracted a second marriage, and when her son came of age, she had entered into the tea‑trade with him as his copartner. Afterwards she resorted to legal measures to have him declared a lunatic, and in December 1829 a commission of inquiry sat fev ten days at Gray's Inn Coffeehouse on his state. The jury, after an expense of 110,000 had been incurred, returned a unanimous verdict, finding " that Mr Edward Davies was of sound mind, and capable of con‑

ON MENTAL DERANGEMENT.

180

ducting his own affairs, and taking care of his person." The verdict was received with unequivocal marks of approbation by the audience, and the London and provincial press poured out torrents of abuse, and almost of execration, against the medical men who had given testimony to his insanity; styling them “the mad doctors," and insinuating that they had unworthily lent themselves to the perpetration of cruelty and oppression.
Dr Combe could not remain a silent spectator of these occurrences. He addressed a letter on the subject to the editor of the “Scotsman" newspaper. Mr Charles Maclaren, the enlightened editor of that journal, esteemed the communication so highly, that he adopted and published it editorially, on the 6th February 1830. As the article affords a specimen of Dr Combe's early method of investing professional subjects with general interest, the following extract from it is presented.
After gently rebuking the press for the contumelies which it had cast upon the medical witnesses, and remarking that if the “mad doctors" were little skilled in the nature of insanity, the ordinary conductors of the press probably knew still less of the disease, he proceeds:—

" Without pretending, at this distance, to decide whether Mr Davies was really sane or insane, we are inclined to suspect, from the published accounts, that, as is usual in most disputes, both parties were somewhat in the wrong; and that, while the newspaper writers erred in holding him to be of perfectly sound mind, the Mad Doctors erred in not having given a sufficiently explicit or correct view of the doctrine of insanity. It is one thing, for instance, to determine that a man's mind is in a state of disease, but it is another and very different matter to determine to what extent the ajfection has proceeded, and whether it involves only one, or a few, or the whole of the mental powers. In the case of the stomach, for instance, we can, if asked the question, say very

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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, necessarily 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 obscure 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 patpably and incurably insane on all subjects hingeing upon one or two faculties of the mind, and yet be perfectly rational, 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 possible gradation is to be met with, from an isolated affection like the above, to one involving all the faculties of the mind. And consequently the true problem to be resolved, where the rights of liberty and of property are concerned, is not so much whether mental derangement exist, but whether it has extended so far as to deprive the individual of the power of sound judgment in his own a, fairs. 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 God, 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

ON MENTAL DERANGEMENT.

187

decided opinion that he was not insane, because ‘ they had taken instructions from him on business, and never had met with a client who better understood his own affairs.' Keeping the above distinction 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 shows how careful we ought to be in understanding 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 persons 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 succession 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 doing 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 physician, 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 guidance, he is at the same time conscious that he retains too much soundness 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 which that qfection begins to deprive the in.dicidual of the power of proper se f direction, and at which, therefore, it becosrzes 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

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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 constitution of the suspected lunatic, which unhappily, under our imperfect systems of general education, very few persons are found to possess. 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 difference in mind and in body, and in the external circumstances modifying 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 (intended to be a review of your book) for his last number; 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 personal feeling at all, I should rather have avoided noticing 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 public, 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 mdre so than in its application to the elucidation of insanity."

ON MENTAL DERANGEMENT.

189

The result of Davies's case was singular and instructive. " The event," says the Globe (quoted in the Scotsman of 14th April 1830), “has falsified the verdict. It appears that Mr Davies has never since that verdict was pronounced evinced I 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 justifies 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 regarding the impression which his work might make on his professional brethren and the public. His non‑phrenological 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 Phrenology 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

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DR COMBE'S WORK

Gooch'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 sufficient 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 impression 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 function. 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 were 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 presenting stimuli to particular faculties, &c., &c., the case is widely different."

Writing to a friend, under the date of November 1830, he says:—

	Dr 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 tothe Elucidation of the Causes, Symptoms, Nature, and Treatment of Insanity."
The favourable opinion which Dr Abercrombie had

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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 consequence, 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 Mental Derangement, I avail myself 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 consequently disqualified me for doing that justice to the subject which its later progress and inherent importance imperatively demand, I have, although with great reluctance, abandoned all present intention of reprinting the work." It has been the anxious desire of Dr Combe's executors to supply the deficiencies here indicated, 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 Ma.cvey Napier, who had then recently been selected to edite a new edition of the Encyclopaedia 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 ire 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 to on page 184), because he had a strong conviction that Dr C. could not do justice to his particular 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 distinguished writer whom he could prevail upon to undertake 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; and that he did not think he should consult 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 deserving of serious consideration. Nothing could be more becoming than Mr Napier's using his editorial control over the Encyclopedia, to advance the interests of truth and science ; and the candid and courteous manner in which he rejected Dr Combe's proffered contributions deserves all commendation; but the real import of his letter is, that he did not consider Dr Combe a fit person to be entrusted with the subjects in question, because he was a phrenologist. We have seen what

THE ENCYCLOPfEI)IA BRITANNICA.		193

means Dr Combe had adopted to ascertain the merits of Phrenology, and it is no disparagement to Mr Napier to affirm that he had not made it an object of serious 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 individual " views" concerning a much controverted subject, 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 Roman Catholic, mast the article " Protestantism" be written by a Roman Catholic to adapt it to his views of truth ? Or, if he be a Protestant, is it fair, or instructive to his readers, to employ 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 trice representation of Protestantism would be one which all enlightened, well‑informed, and candid Protestants would recognise to be correct; and the same rule would hold good in regard to a view of Roman Catholicism. Why should the same principle not be recognised in the case of the sciences ? A tree representation of " animal magnetism" world be one which the ablest professors of that doctrine world 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

N

194 	THE ENCYCLOPADIA BRITANNICA.

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 consequences of the prevailing practice of hiring an individual, hostile to a particular doctrine, first to give his own misrepresentation of it; and then to refute that delineation, is well stated by Messrs Chambers in the introduction to the article " Phrenology" in their "Information for the People."

" It has of late," they remark, "been customary for the conductors of popular Cyclopwdias 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 skew its want of sound foundation, than simply to present a view of its doctrines. In every one of these instances, it was afterwards successfully shown by phrenological writers that their science had been misrepresented, 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."

REVIEW OF DR ABERCROMBIE'S WORK.		195

CHAPTER XII.

DR COMBE ON DR ABERCROMBIE'S "INQUIRIES CONCERNING THE INTELLECTUAL POWERS," &C.‑REMARKS ON THE CAUSES OF THE INDEPENDENCE AND LIBERTY OF NATIONS.‑ON NATURE BEING SYSTEMATIC.‑ON THE DRAMA.

IN 1830, Dr John Abercrombie, who then stood at the head of the medical profession in Edinburgh, published 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 influence of the brain, in the state of health, on the manifestations of the mind, was omitted; and that Phrenology was never so much as alluded to. Dr Gall was treated as if he had never existed. “The only field," says Dr Abercrombie, " in which the mental philosopher can pursue his researches with perfect confidence, is his own mind. In his observations on the minds of other men, he is obliged to judge of the phenomena by external manifestations; and, in this manner, a degree of uncertainty attends his investigations which does not occur in physical science. From this source, also, has probably arisen much of that difference of opinion which we meet with in regard to mental phenomena; for each inquirer having drawn his observations from one mind,

1,96	REVIEW OF DR ABERCROMBIE'S WORK

namely, his own, it was scarcely to be expected that there should not be some diversity, or that facts ‑ derived in this manner should possess the character of being universal." (P. 2.)
Dr Combe published a review of this work in the Phrenological Journal, Vol. vii., p. 46, in which he freely, but calmly and respectfully, exposed the imperfections of Dr Abercrombie's method of investigation, and the unsoundness of his conclusions. No interruption of the good understanding which had previously existed between them ensued. Dr Combe, in a letter, dated 29th November 1830, addressed to Mrs Henry Siddons, who was then in London, mentions the work in the following terms :—

" I wanted to make some observations on Dr Abercrombie's book, but fear I cannot now. The mode of inquiry and the intention are good, but the results seem to me to be vitiated by a radical defect in the application of his own rules. Dr Abercrombie sees and enforces the value of facts as the only basis on which to raise a philosophic induction ; but those which he gives as facts, although true, are incomplete, and consequently their true relations cannot appear. On page 2, he says that the only field in which the mental philosopher can pursue his inquiries with confidence is his own mind, and that great uncertainty attends all observations made on others; and he proceeds accordingly, deriving all his facts from consciousness. Even taking his own mind as a fair type of the human mind, and taking his facts as true, which is a most generous admission, it is impossible to deduce from them fixed general rules, because he nowhere takes into account the influence of the organisation through which the mind operates, and, therefore, his facts or results stand isolated from the circumstances or conditions which influenced their production and manner of being. Let us take an extreme case, and contrast the laws of Attention, Abstraction, &c., in Dr Abercrombie and in an idiot. In the former, one order of sequence is observed; in the other, a very different one. What causes this difference ? Dr Abercrombie never inquires, but those who do, say it is a defective brain ; and when this is stated, Dr Abercrombie admits it. Is it philosophical, then, to omit a condition of such paramount influence, and to observe results and argue from them as if no such condition existed ? Certainly not. Let us take an analogy in

ON THE INTELLECTUAL POWERS.		197

caloric or the principle of heat. If I lay hold of a bar of iron heated to 212°, it burns my hand and excites pain. Suppose the iron to have consciousness, it would hold, from the invariableness of the sequence, that 212 degrees of heat would always burn. But then on going a little farther, I find that I could roll myself in wool heated to 212°, and, instead of being burnt, feel only a little overheated; and, therefore, the wool would, if animated, say to the iron, " You are quite wrong, my friend; a temperature of 212° does NOT burn." Now, what would be the business of the philosopher on perceiving the discrepancy? He would say, " Nature is constant; some cause for the difference exists; let me observe the conditions of both bodies." On examination he would find the iron solid and dense, and an excellent conductor, as it is called, of caloric ; and the wool soft and loose, and a very slow conductor : the former, therefore, by its constitution, parting with caloric with great rapidity so as to burn; and the latter so slowly as not to give it off fast enough to produce the same effect. The analogy will be complete, if you suppose caloric to have consciousness, instead of the iron or body with which it is combined.
" If, then, A.'s mind is connected with organs equal to 5, and B.'s with organs equal to 20, is it enough to reflect on results, and to neglect conditions affecting their production ? Yet Dr Abercrombie does so ; and therefore I say his facts are incomplete, and do not warrant his inferences. I am astonished, I confess, at his omission; he, who has daily and hourly proofs before him of the immense importance of the organic influence. If the Almighty and Omniscient Creator has seen fit to render organisation indispensable to mental manifestations while we are numbered with the living, what shall we gain by deliberately shutting our eyes, and denying that He has done right? The dread of believing matter necessary to the workings of mind amounts to nothing less than such a denial."

The following letter, dated 3d December 1830, also addressed to Mrs Henry Siddons, refers to two able essays which appeared in the Phrenological Journal, Vol. ü., p. 598, and Vol. iii., p. 223, " On the Phrenological Causes of THE DIFFERENT DEGREES OF LIBERTY enjoyed by different Nations;" and “ On the Causes of the INDEPENDENCE, as distinguished from the LIBERTY, of Nations," by Mr George Lyon: Dr Combe writes as follows ‑
‑

190	REMARKS ON THE CAUSES OF THE

" Now that you have more time, you would find many articles in the former Numbers of the Journal which would interest you. There are two on the Independence and Liberty of Nations, which are sound in principle, and interesting in their illustrations, as bearing upon your own late remarks on liberty. They shew that independence must, in the nature of things, precede liberty, as the feeling of independence springs in no small degree from selfish principles, and from impatience of the domination of others. Thus, the South American States were ripe for independence, but not for liberty ; and infinite mischief has arisen from confounding the two. They could no longer bear the tyranny and oppression of their ancient rulers, because they felt this as degrading to pride, and as cramping their natural rights and energies. They accordingly rose and expelled their rulers, thereby securing themselves from foreign domination. But what is liberty? Liberty gives the right of acting, every one according to his own lights, in whatever career he may choose, provided he harms not his neighbour. But what does this suppose ? It supposes him who enjoys it to be possessed of such enlightened views of his social and public relations, as shall enable him to see the line of duty in his public and private conduct; and of such moral energies as shall impel him, seeing it, to follow it cheerfully, consistently, and steadily. Do the ignorant South Americans possess either of these requisites ? Does the Spaniard, or even the Russian, or the Italian, possess them? I doubt it much; and, therefore, I doubt whether they are ripe for liberty. Liberty befits only an enlightened and a moral people, and its diffusion will therefore be best promoted by adding to the lights, and elevating the morality, of the nation. Reform and improve the people, and radical and all other reforms will rest upon a broad basis, and not be placed, as there is some danger of their being, like a pyramid on its apex. The institutions of society must be reformed in proportion to the lights of the nation; but if greater changes be made, evil will result ; if less, then revolution will follow. If a man is of a base nature, give him liberty, and he will steal, cheat, lie, and attack his neighbour. If he is refined and moral, give him liberty, and he will spread blessings around him with two‑fold energy. The former must be restrained by law ;the latter may be left to the guidance of his own conscience. Nations are made up of individuals, and the conditions required for safe freedom apply equally to both.
" Do you know, I am not sure that your dislike of system is not itself somewhat too systematic. Nature is systematic throughout all her productions, and all the manifestations of her power and arrangement; and where she does not seem so, it is our ignorance alone that is at fault. The more complete our knowledge, the more systematic does

INDEPENDENCE AND LIBERTY OF NATIONS.		191

it invariably become ; and, consequently, to dread .system, is to be sceptical rather than philosophic. Scrutinize your facts, and repeat your observations times without number, till you are convinced they are correct ; but having done so, do not hesitate to draw fair logical conclusions from them, and to trace natural relations between them. This is all that systematising involves. If you fear to do this, you betray a want of faith in the ordinations of the Creator, quite as much as if you disbelieved the evidence of your senses. He has given you observing powers wherewith to gather facts, and has so constituted thorn, as to enforce belief of external existences ; but He has also endowed you with reflecting powers to trace relations and causes among them, and to obtain general rules for your own guidance; and you are bound and impelled to obey the impulses of the latter, quite as much as the former. If your dislike of system be limited to theories elaborated from the brains of men; then you may dread them ; but if you extend the feeling to systematic views, based on the broad foundation of facts, I fear you then run against the laws of nature and of sound philosophy. An acquaintance with ascertained science, such as natural philosophy, chemistry, or mathematics, would show you this in one moment, and prove that in proportion as our knowledge advances, it, of itself, becomes more systematic. Keep in view the distinction between system based on observation, and system drawn from reflection alone, and you will modify your opinions. It is one of the evils of an imaginative mind, that it is less accessible to the force and value of facts, and too often prefers its own creations and laws to those of the Creator. Dr Abercrombie is an example of a man of great talent and acquirement, with a dread of system, going far astray in his investigation, from disregard of facts. But having explained what I mean in my note of 29th November, I need not repeat it here. My conviction is, that his book will do an injury to his kind, and retard the march of philosophy for years; because, from the speciousness of his method, and apparent scrupulosity as to facts, it will be read with great confidence by those who have not the means of detecting its deficiencies. I say this in perfect seriousness and humility ; and I am mistaken if you do not yet perceive where the fault lies when your attention is fairly drawn to it. The error which, it seems to me, the utilitarians are most apt to commit, is to assume a variable standard. The real utility of a thing is often distant ; and apparent utility often near, when, in fact, the ultimate result in the latter case is evil; and, besides, men differ in their views of utility. It is better to take the standard given by the Creator, of what in the constitution of things is right ; sure that, in the long run, it will be also the most useful. The utilitarians hold out a wrong and difficult aim.

200

ON THE DRAMA.

" I should like to see you write a history of your life, as connected with your art, and unfolding the views which successively developed themselves to your mind; and the reflections which have occurred to you in regard to the improvement of the Drama. You could give much interesting matter, and contribute essentially to the elevation of the profession. The Drama has a foundation in nature, but, like other things, it must advance along with the race, both in morality and intelligence, otherwise it will fall in the scale of public estimation.
" In educating the moral feelings, and, in this respect, forming character, I should think your natural power great; but I doubt whether you do not ascribe too much to mere external advantages and culture, and too little to original bent of mind; whether, in short, there is not more of theory in your views, and expectation of results, than you would at first imagine. I may be wrong in this, but I give you my opinion without reserve, as I know you prefer my doing so. Do write, however, and be assured of success. You speak your ideas admirably, and it is curious you find difficulty in writing them. I, on the other hand, can scarcely utter three sentences in speech, and feel much less difficulty with the pen in my hand. My command of language is, indeed, always very limited, but it is greatest in writing."

SECOND ATTACK OF PULMONARY DISEASE.		201

CHAPTER XIII.

DR COMBE AGAIN SUFFERS FROM A PULMONARY AFFECTION‑PROCEEDS TO NAPLES‑PASSES THE WINTER OF 1831‑2 IN ITALY‑IS SEIZED

WITH INFLAMMATION OF THE PLEURA IN NAPLES, AND IS ATTENDED
BY MR RICHARD CARMICHAEL AND DR HIRSCHFELD‑RECOVERS‑PROCEEDS TO ROME AND FLORENCE‑AFTERWARDS RETURNS BY SEA TO LONDON AND EDINBURGH.

THE winter of 1830‑1 had been a severe one, and Dr Combe had undergone much mental anxiety and bodily fatigue in the course of his practice; having, among other patients, lost his sister Jean, and a friend in whom he was deeply interested, by death, after protracted illness. He had been taxed beyond his powers, and in August 1831, felt his health giving way, but he was not at first seriously alarmed. Towards the end of that month he joined a few friends in an excursion to the Highlands, hoping to benefit by a change of air and relaxation. The party, however, encountered very hid weather, and he rapidly became worse. The following letter, dated Callander, 29th August, addressed to Miss Cox, conveys a vivid idea of his condition:—

" I daresay your tender heart will be melting to think of the watering showers which have fallen so frequently and so heavily upon us, poor health‑and‑pleasure‑hunting creatures, now or lately journeying in the Highlands. Truly, if you icere melting, it was not Without. cause ; for not only have I almost vanished from sinht (I have become so thin), but I have been an involuntary, but not t.ho less heavy drag upon the comforts of my beloved and respected companions. Instead

202	TRAVELS IN FRANCE AND ITALY.

of being of the least use to them, I have been unfit for every thing; three steps of a walk made me pant as if I had left my lungs at home. Nine parts out of ten of them seemed in vacation, for work they would not. My stomach, seeing them restive, also rebelled and refused to digest; and then my brain thought it might strike work too ; so that on leaving Perth on Saturday morning, I resolved, if not prodigiously improved within three days, to leave my friends and go home the moment we reached Callander. Here we are ; my friends go forward to the Trosachs, and you may expect me home by the first conveyance I can find going to Edinburgh."

The following letters shew the decision and energy with which he acted, and the spirit of cheerful resignation with which he encountered this new crisis in his life. On the 2d of September he wrote from Edinburgh to a friend:—

“After seeing Dr Scott, I have almost determined to start for London to‑morrow on an excursion, as the most efficient means of restoring me, if I am to be restored. Every thing else is uncertain."

From London, he wrote to Miss Cox a letter dated the 7th of September, in which he says :—

" We arrived yesterday at two o'clock, after a three days' passage (in a steam‑ship), with a head‑wind, a rolling sea, sickness, and 170 passengers, short of every thing, even to water. I am, I think, rather improved, with less of the decidedly feverish feelings, less of the circumscribed flush and lank hollowness of visage ; but I see clearly that a good while will be requisite to do any good substantially, and, therefore, I mean to go to Paris via Dieppe. I have no compunction in absenting myself so long. If I return unwell, I go down hill and benefit nobody but my executors, who may be as well off with myself, as with any thing I could leave to them in my stead. If I come back well, I may have inconvenienced my patients by my absence, and hurt my practice, but then there will be something to compensate this, and time to make it up. Most of my patients, I am thankful to say, are exceedingly kind and indulgent. Having thus viewed both sides of the question, I shall neglect nothing to realise the bright one, and hope for the best."

During his absence, his friend Dr Scott took charge

TRAVELS IN FRANCE AND ITALY.		203

of his patients and supplied his place to their and his satisfaction. Nothing can exceed the kind and anxious interest expressed by most of them, in letters still extant, in his welfare.
His next letter is dated Paris, 12th September 1831, and is addressed to George Combe. In it he writes that his bad luck in voyages still pursued him; that he had had a stormy passage, and found the country between Boulogne and Paris deluged with rain, and the weather, in Paris, by no means promising; but that his health had nevertheless improved. He adds:—

" How all this will end I do not know. Had it been merely this recent ailment, I would have been more sanguine, but I was almost a shadow before it came on. I never expected long life; and although I shall do all in my power to prolong it, I shall not be taken by surprise if it should be cut short sooner than was some time ago probable. Do not, however, suppose from this, that I am either lowspirited or nervous ; for that is far from being the case, as I am comfortable in body and tranquil in mind in every respect. Only, I wish to give you a true and accurate representation of my condition and feelings."

It is worth remarking, that the socialist doctrines, which in 1848 cost so much blood and treasure to France, were already engaging public attention in 1831. In a letter to Miss Cox, dated Paris, 16th September, Dr Combe says:—" The St Simonians have a newspaper to advocate their doctrines. What I have seen of it contains nearly the same doctrine as Mr Owen's, except that they admit more fully the existence of different capacities, and the right of different degrees of merit to different quantities of reward. I shall go and hear them to‑morrow. Their newspaper teems with specious generalities and aspirations after a better morality, but it wants principles and a practical tendency. I should, however, say little of it, as I have seen only a few numbers of it. Dr Spurzheim knew St Simon,

204	TRAVELS IN FRANCE AND ITALY.

and says it is a pity they should have made a saint and chief of him, as he was immoral, and brimfull of vanity and scandal."
From Paris Dr Combe proceeded to Orleans, Blois, and Nantes.
The following letter, dated Orleans, 20th September 1831, addressed to Miss M‑‑‑ N‑, contains a description of the state of Paris and of part of France at the time of his visit :—

" I arrived here yesterday evening after a twelve hours' drive from Paris on a beautiful, sunny day, and through rather a rich, but tediously level country, at least for the last fifty miles. In fact, it reminded me of the sea, and only lost its resemblance from the trees, vines, and houses scattered over it, and which do not usually deck the surface of the ocean. I was parboiled between a stout, elderly lady and a stoutish member of the Legion of Honor, and in front of me were placed a stout, ruddy‑faced, elderly Proprietaire from near Blois, and Monsieur son fils, an attenuated simple‑minded youth of sixteen, whom he had taken to see Paris, but whose wisdom and reflection had not increased in proportion to the number of miles travelled, or of objects looked at. Madame insisted on keeping the window on her side up, and more than once I was nearly crying out for " secours contre la suffocation,' as I saw every where in large letters ‘ secours contre l'incendie.' I could not procure either a cabriolet place or one in the coupé, and was thankful to arrive.
" We left Paris at an interesting time. The discussion in the Chamber of Deputies about the defeat of the poor Poles was about to begin, and very much in proportion to the success of the Ministers in defending themselves from the charge of indifference to their fate, will be their success in preserving the peace of Paris and their own places. Public sympathy was very strong, and went in its manifestations far beyond the bounds of reason and morality. During Saturday and Sunday, particularly on Saturday afternoon, Paris was much in the condition of a besieged city. Troops of every kind were traversing the streets (the light cavalry often at the gallop), and the drums calling out the National Guard never ceased their noisy disturbance. Gunsmiths' shops were broken open for arms, one within a few paces of Dr Spurzheim and me in the Rue de Richelieu, and two or three barricades were thrown up on the Boulevards. The streets were thronged with people, many respectable, but many evidently out only for the

TRAVELS IN FRANCE AND ITALY.		205

row. Being Saturday night, the workmen were let loose, and altogether matters wore a sombre aspect. At eight the theatres were emptied. and shut. Fortunately the abundant display of military force kept the mob in check, and nothing very serious occurred. One or two were killed, and a number wounded with sabre and bayonet wounds. If the Ministers do not make a satisfactory defence, it is doubtful how far peace will be preserved. The public,‑begging their pardon,‑seem to me unjust and irrational in this outcry against their Ministers for not having aided the Poles. How could they ? Prussia, Austria, and Russia would have been opposed to them; and are they already in a state to carry war into a territory so far removed from their own, and with such powers leagued against them ? Without going to war it is clear they could do nothing; and for preferring to remain at peace and organise their own disturbed government, they are called ‘ lâches,' ‘ traitres,' and I know not how many more equally respectable names. From my own experience, I wonder less than I did at so many people being on the street when fighting is going on. The stimulus to curiosity becomes great in proportion as the plot thickens, and then so many feelings get interested, that one loses the single instinct of cautiousness among them; till some strong appeal comes, and then it shrinks for the moment, to give way again. Dr Spurzheim and I were in no actual danger, but we could not help going into the thickest of the crowd, and returning repeatedly to the Palms Royal as the focus, just to see what was likely to happen, and when an uproar might have been begun at any given moment ; and, in fact, we were not thirty yards off when it pleased the mob to break open the gunsmith's shop in presence of the military; but our curiosity once satisfied, we proceeded to give our gastronomics their turn, and then went home. It is a fine country and a fine people, and I trust order and happiness will soon be restored. Personally the King (Louis‑Philippe) is liked, and well spoken of by all parties, and so are, I may say, all the members of his family. The pure republicans, of course, dislike the office, while they like the man.
" Much is said of the stagnation of trade, bad times, &c., and the worthy Proprietaire, among others, declared that the olden time was that of ease, abundance, and tranquillity, while the present was that of contention, want, and incessant struggling. Genius and its discoveries, its machines à vapeur, its chemins de fer, its schools and its colleges, all sounded delightfully, ‘ Mais en est on plus heureux ?' said he, with a shrug of his shoulders, which swallowed up his head for the moment. But even he, when relating his experience without reference to this question, gave ample evidence of mistaking a dream for a reality, when he praised the past at the expense of the present.

206	TRAVELS IN FRANCE AND ITALY.

He became eloquent in describing the wretchedness and insecurity of existence forty years ago, and said a man could scarcely stop to speak to a more distant relation than a brother without danger. It is a curious feature of age always to make this mistake. At present, say the grumblers, there is neither commerce nor credit. In reality, however, the innumerable, heavily‑loaded waggons which we passed on the way between Boulogne and Paris, and between Paris and Orleans, at least three times greater than I saw ten years ago on the same route, give one the idea of a vast improvement. Paris, too, seemed busy, although it misses the hordes of English and other foreigners who used to frequent it, and of whom I did not see one for ten I used to see. The tickets out at the hotels, of appartemens moublés to let, are numerous in proportion. Travelling, among the French themselves, is very active. Everywhere the coaches are full ; and, on most roads, three or four oppositions exist. It strike me that the natives are more reserved than of old. At least, strangers at the table d'hôtes rarely exchange words except of simple politeness. This has been the case from Boulogne hither.
" The vintage is just commencing in fine situations; and last evening, during a lovely sunset, it was truly grateful to man's best feelings to see the riches spread before him by a bountiful Providence, and himself in the midst of them enjoying their promise. Many of the villagers were strolling among their vineyards. Their expression is not favourable ; but I could see no heads except those of beggars, who cannot be taken as types. I had scarcely been an hour in my quarters here when I was exercising my functions. The femme de chambré was groaning under the agony of an inflamed wrist, for which nothing had been done. She was astounded at my proffering advice to leech it abundantly, but as I told her it was not a thing to be trifled with, she wisely went to the Hotel Dieu to get it mended."

Dr Combe having, in the course of this excursion, caught cold by sleeping in a damp bed at Tours, returned, as soon as his strength permitted, to Paris, and consulted Dr Spurzheim as to the best course to be followed during the winter. By his advice he resolved to pass that season in Italy, and wrote to Miss Cox, soliciting her to become the companion of his travels; In the month of October she accordingly joined him in Paris; and early in November they commenced their journey to Naples. From that time to the day of his

TRAVELS IN FRANCE AND ITALY.		207

death, she never ceased to be his constant, devoted, and most useful companion, and, in seasons of sickness, his nurse. In a letter to his brother George, dated Lyons, 9th November 1831, he writes:
‑

" Here we are, and I stood the journey, as I have done all other journeys, remarkably well. But I must go back in my narrative to Paris, and mention, in justice to Dr Spurzheim's friendly kindness, that from the day I sent to tell him I was troubled with pain, till that of our departure, a period of nine days, he spent the best part of an hour with me every day, although much occupied. He gave me every encouragement to persevere in taking care and employing every external resource ; and, indeed, the progress made since my return to Paris is itself a great point gained. He urges me to live, if I wish to live, for my health alone ; not to make visits or calls, or be in the way of receiving them, or of exposing myself to any excitement of feeling or intellect, or to any exertion of body, farther than sufficient for exercise : in short, to be tranquil, regular, and moderate in every thing.
" These injunctions were his spontaneous effusions. They harmonise with my own views, on which, by the way, I formerly acted with profit ; and I mean to follow them. At our departure, he was in waiting at the coach‑office to see the last of me. His countenance was radiant with Benevolence and Adhesiveness, and his advice was earnest and from the heart."

He describes his condition minutely for the information of his medical friends in Edinburgh, and sums up the whole in these words :—

" Taking the whole aspect of the case, it would have been difficult to find any symptom characteristic of phthisis wanting, and yet out of this odd state I have very considerably recovered. * * " If Providence be pleased to restore me this time, as there is the appearance of, I may not only be uncommonly grateful, but consider myself as escaped from a more pressing danger than I ever was in. The interest taken in my fate almost confounds me."

Dr Combe and his niece embarked at Marseilles, and arrived safely at Naples. The following letter, addressed to Mrs N 0 , is dated Naples, 5th December 1831.

208

LETTERS FROM NAPLES.

" Being now in some measure settled after three months' roaming, not in search of the picturesque, I cannot resist the inclination I ,feel to tell you how much all your kind letters and friendly sympathy have gratified me. The effusions of the young ladies were very pleasing as indications of natural character, as well as on account of the genuine affection contained in them. Thanks to Mr ‑ and to you all, are all I can offer in return, except the assurance that the interest with which I regard the happiness and progress of your family is at least as sincere. To hear of your welfare will always delight me.
" People speak of Naples, its bay, and Vesuvius, their splendid magnificence and beauty; but, nevertheless, Edinburgh, its frith and Arthur's Seat, lose little by the comparison. If you would blow away our clouds, haul down the sun a little nearer the High Street ; fix the wind in the west 300 days in the year, giving it its swing the remaining sixty‑five ; and light a tar‑barrel occasionally on the top of Arthur's Seat for an hour or two at a time, Naples would be sent forthwith to the right‑about to hide its diminished head in one of its own caves. The bay is certainly very beautiful ; but from the little I have yet seen, it seems inferior to the Forth and its bays as seen from the Calton Hill. As to local situation as a town, Edinburgh has the advantage. Naples has one or two magnificent streets, several palaces, &c. ; but the rest is crowded, dirty, and disgusting, and few places have any view at all. The opposite side of the bay is very picturesque, and Vesuvius is a striking object, but it has not been performing for some time, and rarely sends forth even a puff of smoke to gratify its admirers; which I hold not to be fair when one comes so far to see it. I suppose it has the true Neapolitan or lazaroni temperament. When stimulated by necessity, it sets to work in earnest ; but the necessity past, it relapses quietly and contentedly into the dolce far niente, till roused again by another impulse. I have not yet had an opportunity of examining its head, to know how far its development may account for its conduct. If one occurs, I shall tell you the result.
" Providence has prospered our past undertakings. Even the sea was as civil to me as possible ; for on board of the beautiful Eleonora, I enjoyed five days out of the eight. I never retained land feelings, appetites, and thoughts, so much at sea as on this occasion. Floating along the surface of a clear, deep blue, gently rippled sea, with an air of wind, a cloudless sky, and pleasant temperature, in a large vessel with moral people, and in sight of land somewhere or other, was no despicable treat for two expatriated voyagers at the end of November. Our cabin was large, and high enough to admit of my walking with my cap on, which I did in the evenings as in a room.

LETTERS FROM NAPLES.

209

There were two decks, and, on looking out from the cabin door, we had a long vista between them the whole length of the vessel. The crew abode there, and were, truly, not scant of room. I can hardly tell you how much it adds to one's comfort to see a fraternity like this living in peace and harmony, and each fulfilling his duties with readiness and good will; instead of the cursing, swearing, wrath, and bad usage, which are still too commonly found among the crews of our sailing ships. The boys, three in number, were as well treated by the men as they could be, instead of being the victims of petty tyranny. We had vespers on deck every afternoon at four, and the chant lasted nearly half‑an‑hour. A lamp was at the same time lighted in the cabin near to their patron saint. Off Elba, we overtook another Neapolitan brig, on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. When a little separated, and our service was over, we heard theirs begin; and the effect, in harmony with the beautiful scene, and the natural gratitude raised in the mind towards the Giver of all these blessings, was fine. The sound at last died away, and we went below. Peace and goodwill must be habitual to the crew, and not got up on our account; for in loving friendship we found established on board two cats, two pigeons, two hens, and a dog, all as intimate as the most ardent affection could make them."

One of the passengers in " the beautiful Eleonora" was Mons. Prosper Dumont, a young Frenchman of literary tastes, then commencing his travels, and who was also anxious to improve his knowledge of the English language. Dr Combe lent him some books to read, and, among others, "The Constitution of Man;" and this work interested him so much, that he resolved to publish a translation of it into French. On his return to France, he was appointed to an official situation, first in the . " Bibliothèque du Roi," in Fontainebleau, and subsequently in the " Bibliothèque du Roi," in Paris, and carried his design into execution. His translation appeared in 1834, under the title of "Essai Sur la Constitution de l'Homme," &c., " traduit de l'Anglais par M. Prosper Dumont." "

* 8vo, pp. 344. Paris, Chez Arthus Bertrand, Libraire‑Editeur, Rue Hautefeuille, No. 23.

0

210  SIR WALTER SCOTT.

In a letter, dated 20th December 1831, addressed to his brother George, Dr Combe gives directions about the collection of several sums due to him for professional attendance ; and, as exemplifying the spirit in which he acted towards his patients, the following extract is presented. The patient referred to was Miss N‑, mentioned in the letters on pages 165 and 167, who was now dead. He says :—

" I attended her thirty‑eight months in all, and first and last had a good deal of trouble, being with her sometimes twice and even thrice in one day. I need hardly say, that I by no means expect to be remunerated for all my visits; for I made at least one‑third of the whole from motives of friendship, and the interest I felt in her situation. Many of my visits were not necessary in the way of prescribing, but they were as purely medical as if they had been so. Miss Nwas one of those persons whose mental state influences the general health of the body in an unusual degree, and on that account, it became of the first consequence to cherish and support her moral nature in the struggle with disease. To this purpose many of my visits were dedicated, and the effect of this on her fine nature was most satisfactory. But for her equanimity and cheerfulness, she would never have gone through the half of what she has done. Visiting her thus as a friend as much as a physician, I can, of course, make no charge; and as individual visits, in a long attendance like this, can scarcely be reckoned, Mr N‑ must be requested just to give what his own judgment dictates as right, and I shall be satisfied."

In the same letter he adds‑" Sir Walter Scott arrived in the bay from Malta, in His M. S. Barham, three days ago, and is enacting quarantine." The cholera was then threatening Italy.
In a letter to his niece, Miss Robina Cox (now Mrs William Ivory), dated Naples, 20th December 1831, he writes :—

" I saw Sir Walter Scott in an open carriage to‑day, wrapt up in a cloak. He looked pale and sodden‑like, with little animation ;but it was cold, which may have occasioned this appearance. He is said not to be well, and the report is, that the Malta public were sorry

DR COMBE'S ILLNESS AT NAPLES.		211

to see him suffering so much. Vesuvius began to throw out smoke whenever Sir Walter made his appearance in the bay, and has continued smoking ever since, so that we are in hopes of an eruption taking place soon.
" The Neapolitans have astonishing faith in their own good luck, if not in Providence, for every tenth shop is a lottery‑office ; and, instead of their not liking to be seen in it, as is the case in France, the doors and windows are thrown wide open, and rarely fewer than eight or ten people are in it at one time, as if proud to be seen there. The beggar and the gentleman meet in them on equal terms.
" The Neapolitan children are sadly maltreated. In infancy they are swaddled and pinned, and look like so many bundles of cotton ; and many persons of all ages are strongly marked with the smallpox."

On the 24th January 1832, Dr Combe was seized with a severe attack of inflammation of the lungs. By an extraordinary combination of circumstances, he enjoyed the double benefit of the best medical advice, and the warmest moral support, in the trying situation in which he was placed. Mr Richard Carmichael, President of the Royal College of Surgeons of Ireland, and one of the most eminent medical practitioners of Dublin, had early embraced Phrenology, and become personally intimate with Dr Combe. Forced by the state of his own health to pass a summer in the Pyrennees and a winter in Italy, he came to Naples, greatly restored in health, in the month of January 1832, and speedily visited Dr Combe, who recognised in him the qualities of a medical philosopher, an experienced and skilful practitioner, and an enlightened phrenologist. About the same time the late Dr Edward Hirschfeld of Bremen, who some years previously had finished his medical education in Edinburgh, and become a convert to Phrenology, and an intimate

*: Dr Hirschfeld afterwards published a German translation of George Combe's “Constitution of Man," and " System of Phreno‑

212  ILLNESS AT NAPLES.

and highly esteemed friend of Dr Combe and his brother, also arrived in Naples on his marriage‑excursion. These two gentlemen found Dr Combe in a very precarious condition, kindly attended and ably treated by Dr Strange, an English physician in Naples; and by their combined efforts he was delivered from immediate danger. The confidence which he reposed in their skill, and the moral support which he derived from the presence of his friends, greatly aided the efforts of nature in surmounting the disease; and Dr Combe often looked back to their arrival as one of the most fortunate events of his life. To his niece, also, their presence was of unspeakable advantage. Dr Hirschfeld remained with them in Naples until Dr Combe was able to travel to Rome, and accompanied him to that city.
With a view to relieve the anxiety of his friends, and to spare their sympathetic feelings, Dr Combe was prompt to report every alleviating circumstance attending his illnesses, and in particular to assure them of his freedom from acute suffering. In temper and disposition, also, he was, in such circumstances, not merely resigned, but cheerful, and often droll, as many of his letters shew. In a letter, dated Rome, 25th February 1832, addressed to his brother George, after describing minutely his condition, and the remedies he had employed to subdue the inflammation of the pleura, he says:—

“I stood the journey fully as well as I expected, although it increased the uneasiness in my side. My breathing is still very imperfect, and pulse about eighty‑five, with some increase of expectoration. I am nearly as long and lean as I was five months ago, and sometimes think that my amendment resembles a little that of our

logy." He was one of the editors of the Zeitschrift für Phrenologie, a quarterly journal, which appeared in 1843‑4‑5, at Heidelberg; and in 1844 he published an Umriss der Phrenologie at Bremen. But his useful life was unfortunately terminated by typhus fever on 22d March 1845.

ROME.   213

royal personages, who, according to the official bulletins of their health, are ‘better' and ‘easier' every day, till we suddenly hear that they are removed to ‘a better world,' where, certainly, they care ‘far better' than here. However, I shall be very well pleased, if, in my case, the parallel shall fail. The aspect and natural language of Rome please me infinitely beyond those of Naples, and yet the air is cold enough here too, but much less blowy. WNether it was the volcanic and sulphureous subsoil below, and the electricity above, or what else it was that gave the peculiar feel to the Neapolitan atmosphere during the dry north winds, I know not; but I was sensible of a kind of discomfort in it which I can compare to nothing I ever experienced before. My illness and want of breath increased this; and the same wind having set in a month earlier than usual, it caught me before I could escape, as we intended to do from the beginning, when our second month was out. Many a time I thought of Lord Byron's Farewell to his wife, when he spoke of the ‘ placid sleep which then came o'er thee, which thou ne'er canst know again,' or words to that effect ; but I now sleep better, and have more of comfort here. I was even

glad that our niece was kept in continual activity, even to weariness, as it saved her from depression, or any other greater evil.
" I have been attended to by Dr Hirschfeld in every possible way, with a warm and friendly kindness which nothing could exceed. He has been indeed a friend, a physician, and a brother; and I have pro‑

fited by his medical advice, as he took the trouble to ascertain my condition before prescribing for me, and gave me the conviction that

he was thinking what he was doing; which, as a patient, I find to be a prodigous comfort. I have been attended, here, also by Dr Jenks, who is very friendly and active."‑*

In his next letter, dated Rome, 8th March, he writes thus:—

" It is a strange world this, and well it is that the principle of adaptation is so active and potent. My ideas now centre pretty much

*’ It may interest medical readers to notice that Dr Combe adds
" Dr Jenks said that tubercles had nothing to do with the present illness, and that the lower part of the lung was pervious to air, which he scarcely expected. But neither he nor Dr Hirschfeld was very willing to say that tubercles were not formed in the upper part of the lung, and I could not press them farther. The expectoration seems to me almost characteristic of them, so far as one symptom can be so." The real state of the lungs, as disclosed by the post‑moment exawina, Lion, will be afterwards mentioned.

214

ROME.

within the limits of my contracted horizon. The question, What can I obtain to eat that I can swallow with any relish ? seems of as boundless interest as the fate of empires. What can I do to loosen the tightened internal strap that cuts short my breath? seems to me a far more important problem than how shall the Reform Bill be got through the Lords; and so on with every other matter relating to self. The other night, however, I hurt my side in attempting, in a dream, to arrest the progress of the cholera ; which was surely very benevolent. The cholera was coming down the street in full force, at the head of a crowd of cholera patients. I was ordered to intercept their progress, and in doing so, lay down at my whole length across the street to kick them back, and make them tumble over me if they persisted in pressing on. In effecting this, I turned over in bed unconsciously on my sore side, and in that position passed two or three hours discharging my duty. When I awoke, I was the worse for the effort."

The following letter, dated Rome, 18th March 1832, addressed to his brother George, contains some remarks on climate in relation to pulmonary disease, that may be generally useful:—

“Dr Jenks strongly recommends my passing the summer in Italy or on the Continent, for the greater warmth, which he considers very favourable for diseased lungs. Dr Hirschfeld agreed in this advicé, ‘ that I might be able to get more easily to proper winter quarters.' My own experience is, that where tubercles are actually broken down, and the lungs consequently ulcerated, heat hastens the process, and not unfrequently leads to a very rapid decay ; while if the tubercles are still in a crude state, moderate warmth of climate, such as suffices to keep the action of the skin free, and admit of exercise, is beneficial, but beyond this point heat is hurtful, as debilitating and relaxing. Here, then, Dr Jenks and I differ a good deal, though perhaps not radically. In past times, I have been better in moderately warm summers, and particularly when riding about, than when warm weather set in. At the same time T feel a certain degree of heat, say from 65° to 70°, necessary to keep up a sufficient determination to the skin. My notion is, then, to leave Italy in the beginning of May (for it I am sure.is too warm), and either to linger about the south of France, moving slowly by Toulouse and the foot of the Pyrennees to Bordeaux, and try the effect of the heat without exposing myself to suffer from it, and to be guided by the result ; or if a good deal stronger, to go

ROME.

215

to M. Met'er's at Zurich, and try the experiment in his country, the road home by water being open in the one case by Bordeaux, and the other by the Rhine, in case of necessity, while both lead to Paris, should I have reason to go there as the season advances. If there be no open tubercles this course might be useful; if there are, then I am on the way home. I am anxious to have Dr Scott's and your view of this. If the summer prove a good one in Scotland, I would assuredly like to come home, were it only for a month, for moral longings and sympathies affect the frame as well as climate; but while a chance, i. e., a reasonable one, remains to me, I wish to avail myself of it to the utmost, and having done so, I can submit, without repining, to any result.
" It is long, you may say, to look forward to a time I may never see, viz., next winter; but I cannot help now stating that it will be a very strong motive indeed that will make me spend it on the Continent. If I live and must be away from home, I am convinced, that, taking one thing with another, I would have a better chance in the south of England than any where in Italy or France. But it would be waste of labour and time and paper to give reasons now, only I wish you to know this from the beginning. Our worthy niece has encountered many disagreeables ; but her cheerful and ready activity has never failed her, although for weeks, in point of society, I was merely an object for her to look at, not to converse with. Many in her situation would have been devoured by depression and the feeling of loneliness. Not so she. With her, the winter has passed easily, and upon the whole pleasantly: without her, I would have been ill off in body and mind.
19th. We have had a pleasant drive to‑day, and had occasion to notice the difference of climate between Rome and Naples. The latter abounds in orange trees, magnificent aloes, prickly plants, and others peculiar to warm countries. Cotton even is cultivated. Here none of these things are to be seen. One tolerably good‑looking aloe was to be remarked, but it turned out to be a tin, one painted green. Orange trees in villas are under cover. Even at Leghorn and Marseilles many more signs of the south abound. Spring is a fortnight farther advanced at Naples as regards vegetation ; but then it has fine sloping exposures, and active volcanoes under ground; and yet the air here is far pleasanter to my feelings, and is, I believe, thermo‑

'11, In justice to Dr Combe it is proper to mention, that his letters contain many and warm expressions of gratitude to his niece for her invaluable services and untiring devotion to his welfare, but which, in deference to what are known to be her feelings, are here suppressed.

216

RETURNS TO SCOTLAND.

metrically warmer in the shade, for in the sun it must be 10° higher at Naples. I am advancing by almost imperceptible degrees."

He consulted Dr Spurzheim also about his plans, who, in a letter, dated Paris, 11th May 1832, addressed to George, mentions, in the following terms, the advice he had given him:—" It is a long time since we have interchanged letters ; but the principal reason of my silence was to avoid the uneasy feeling inseparable from speaking of the fate of your brother. I esteem him too much not to mention him in a letter to you; and what could I do but lament his condition, or at least to express my great fear for his preservation ? I wrote to him at his request, and gave him freely my opinion. I do not think that the hot climate is favourable to tubercular complaints, when established, however favourable it may be to prevent them. His letter to me shews great power of mind; and I did not dissuade him from returning amongst his friends at home, in case he should not greatly improve from rambling about, and from being a great deal in the open air."

Before the present attack of illness Dr Combe had taken the usual steps to obtain admission into the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh as a fellow; but from the small hopes he entertained of his recovery, the proceedings had, at his request, been suspended. On the 2d of May 1832, however, a ballot took place on his application, and he was duly elected.

In the beginning of May, Dr Combe left Rome and proceeded to Florence, and thence to Leghorn, where he and his niece embarked on board of a sailing vessel for London. Their voyage was slow, but agreeable, and they arrived in London in the middle of July he decidedly improved in health. In a letter to George, dated London, 14th July, he says:—" If it were not a point confirmed by experience that tubercles are incu

RETURNS TO SCOTLAND.

21'7

ruble, I should now believe in the possibility of my recovery; but in the face of that opinion, I am only thankful for the advantages received, and wait calmly the result." He arrived in Edinburgh on the 17th July, and took up his residence at Gorgie Mill. His friend, Dr John Scott, again carefully examined him on his return, and found the signs of the affection of the lungs to be increased since his departure. There was contraction and flattening of the left side, more especially under the clavicle to the second rib. The sound was dull, and all the signs of extensive and numerous caverns were discovered.

Notwithstanding all these unfavourable symptoms, Dr Combe's health continued gradually to improve; and in Chap. II. of his work on " The Principles of Physiology," &c., he stuns up the history of this attack in the following words:—" The author, aware that his only chance lay in assisting nature to the utmost extent, by placing every function in the circumstances best fitted for its healthy performance, acted habitually on the principle of yielding the strictest obedience to the physiological laws, and rendering every other object secondary to this. He did so in the full assurance that, whether recovery followed or not, this was, at all events, the most certain way to secure the greatest bodily ease and the most perfect mental tranquillity, compatible with his situation. The result was in the highest degree satisfactory. From being obliged to pause twice in getting out of bed, a slow but progressive improvement took place, and by long and steady perseverance continued, till, at the end of two or three months, he was able to drive out and walk a little every day. From month to month thereafter, the amendment was so gradual as to be scarcely perceptible ; but, at the end of a longer period, the difference was striking enough.

218

RETURNS TO SCOTLAND.

Thus encouraged, the author continued true to his own principles, in resisting every temptation to which improving health exposed him: and the ultimate result has been, that every successive year from 1832 up to the present time, 1841, has, with one or two exceptions, found him more healthy and vigorous than before; and that many of his professional friends, who long regarded his partial convalescence as destined to be of very brief duration, cannot yet refrain from an expression of surprise on observing it to be still perceptibly advancing at the end of ten years." He adds, that he publishes this example, " both because, as an illustration of the advantages of acting in accordance with the laws of our nature, it is as instructive as any with which he is acquainted, and because it strikingly shews the gradual accumulation of almost imperceptible influences operating surely, though slowly, in restoring him to a degree of health and enjoyment which has richly repaid him for all its attendant privations. Had he not been fully aware of the gravity of his own situation, and, from previous knowledge of the admirable adaptation of the physiological laws to carry on the machinery of life, disposed to place implicit reliance on the superior advantages of fulfilling them as the direct dictates of Divine Wisdom, he never would have been able to persevere in the course chalked out for him, with that ready and long‑enduring regularity and cheerfulness which have contributed so much to their successful fulfilment and results. And, therefore, he feels himself entitled to call upon those who, impatient at the slowness of their progress, are apt after a time to disregard all restrictions, to take a sounder view of their true position, to make themselves acquainted with the real dictates of the organic laws; and, having done so, to yield them full, implicit, and persevering obedience, in the

COMMENCES " THE PRINCIPLES OF PHYSIOLOGY," &C. 219

certain assurance that they will reap their reward in renewed health, if recovery be still possible; and if not, that they will thereby obtain more peace of mind and bodily ease than by any other means which they can use."

In the end of the autumn of 1832, he was sufficiently recovered to resolve to pass the ensuing winter in Scotland, and even to resume his mental labours. In a letter dated Gorgie Mill, 30th September 1832, addressed to Miss Stirling Graham of Duntrune, he gives the following account of the origin of the work which he subsequently published on Physiology applied to Health and Education:

“I am," says he, " not the only instance of idleness being a con

sumer of time. I ride out with my niece Robina in the forenoon, and walk or drive out in the afternoon, and the day is gone. I mean,

however, to attempt a little occupation to ease my conscience ; for according to the wicked way of getting rid of temptation by yielding to it, I may obtain relief by yielding to my conscience, which has been

abusing me sorely for vegetating and consuming the fruits of the earth to no purpose. I began, a few days ago, a kind of anatomico

physiological history of the human body and its functions, first to enable my brother George to deliver it in lectures to his class, and

also with a view to publication, if it pleases me and I can finish it. It would make a very useful volume, if it were well done."

In December of that year, he published a portion of the work in the Phrenological Journal, in an Essay on the " Nature and Uses of the Skin, as connected with the preservation of Health."

* Vol. viii., p. 1.

220	ON THE QUALIFICATIONS OF A GOVERNESS

CHAPTER XIV.

LETTER ON THE QUALIFICATIONS OF A GOVERNESS IN RELATION TO HER PUPILS.‑DR COM13E VISITS LONDON AND PARIS‑RESUMES HIS PRACTICE‑ANSWERS DR PRICHARD'S OBJECTIONS AGAINST PHRENOLOGY.‑LETTER ON SPECTRAL ILLUSIONS.‑MONTROSE LUNATIC ASYLUM.‑VISITS HANWELL LUNATIC ASYLUM.‑LETTER TO A 310TIlER ON THE PHYSIOLOGICAL AND MORAL MANAGEMENT OF HER CHILDREN.

ALTHOUGH in the spring of 1833 Dr Combe's health was much improved, he was still unable to resume medical practice; and the following letter on the necessity of adapting the qualifications of a governess to the mental condition of her pupils, is one of the few traces remaining of his mental activity at this time. It is dated 7th April 1833, and is addressed to Mrs 0

" You seem to be under the impression, that because the Misses are behind young ladies of their age, both in acquirements and in development of intellect and feeling, it is not necessary to have a governess of the highest talents, character, and experience, and that in reality the exertions of such a person would be in a manner lost upon them. Now, even granting that they are as much behind as you think them, my inference would be the contrary one. For it seems to me, that on such a supposition it would be the MORE NECESSARY to place them under the direction of one so much their superior in every thing as to make them feel their deficiencies, and afford them that stimulus to habitual ex

IN RELATION TO HER PUPILS.

221

ertion in the exercise of both intellect and feeling, which a person possessed of talent, activity, and moral energy, can alone impart; and that nothing short of the absolute impossibility of meeting with such a person can warrant the engaging of one of an inferior description. If you again place them under a governess of merely ordinary capacity and qualifications, you leave them without that ever present motive to steady mental application and correct moral feeling, which in coming to you it was their chief aim to acquire. In considering this, it is right to keep in mind that it is not deficiency of mental power which ails them; for their large brains and many of their manifestations shew the contrary. It is the want of the power of regular and sustained activity; and this can be supplied only by a person so much more advanced and gifted than themselves as to command their respect. Sluggish as their faculties may be, they are yet powerful enough when active to perceive very readily the weaknesses and deficiencies of their instructors; and, consequently, the moment they discover either the ignorance or moderate talent of one placed over them, all beneficial influence in stimulating their own faculties is at end, and they will continue to go on undisturbed in their own way, exerting themselves when inclined, and relaxing without scruple when they find the desire for activity gone.

" If, again, their faculties be wakening, which I believe, it is impossible to overrate the importance of having a decidedly superior, steady, and energetic mind to encourage and lead them on to still farther improvement. For, without such a guide constantly at hand to influence them in the right direction, there is much risk of their nascent power being dissipated on the feeling of the moment, and turned to no useful account."

As Dr Combe had generally been benefited by change

222	DR COMBE VISITS LONDON AND PARIS.

of air, he went to London in April 1833, and afterwards to Paris, accompanied by his nephew, Abram Cox (now Dr Cox of Kingston on Thames), who had then just finished his medical studies in Edinburgh, and by his young friend Mr Walter Ainslie, both of whom desired to complete their education in the French capital. From London he writes to Miss Cox as follows:

" 2d play 1833.‑The public is excited about the malt‑duties and assessed taxes, and I see some shopwindows exhibit ‘ No assessed taxes paid here.' I like freedom, but I do not like this spirit. It is at variance with government of every kind. Sir Andrew Agnew is the subject of numerous caricatures, of which I send you two as a specimen. The serious people regret that he has shewn so little tact and knowledge of existing feeling, and gone to such extremes with the provisions of his (Sunday observance) bill, as even those who would have been happy to compel cessation from labour on Sundays are against him. He has lost an opportunity of doing much good."

In London he was seized with the influenza, which then generally and severely affected Great Britain and the continent of Europe; but it did not prevent him from prosecuting his journey. From Paris, on the 15th of May 1833, he wrote to his brother George :

“Here, too, the influenza, or grippe, as they call it, is very prevalent. Report says that 100,000 are ill; and in some banks only one clerk in seven is able for duty. The heat is intense. The thermometer stands daily at 80°; being from 15° to 25° warmer than at Leghorn last year at the same season.

“I went to‑day to call for our valued friend Royer [M. A. A. Royer, of the Jardin des Plantes', and was much grieved to learn that he died a fortnight ago. He was a good, kind‑hearted man, and I regret his loss

PARIS.

223

severely. He and Dr Spurzheim* were my best friends when I was last here. Both were then well, and sorry for me: now, both are gone, and I am left. Both are often presented before me by memory‑‑Spurzheim as I looked for the last time on his beaming benevolent countenance at the coach‑office door. Such is the fate of man. Let us live as we ought to do while time is ours.

“The graceful, elegant, and spirituel Andrieux, in whose prelections on French eloquence I used to delight, is just dead; and it is very gratifying to see the respect paid to his remains, and the estimate formed of his talents and character. He fascinated me, and displayed a meaning and beauty in the passages which he quoted, which I might never have discovered by reading them. He was a liberal, upright, and amiable man.

" It is disgusting to read the pertinacious, little, quibbling, worrying, and dishonest attacks made on the Royal family and government here. Opposition on principle is an honourable and useful employment, and commands respect even from those against whom it is directed; but here, a carping, selfish, and disappointed spirit pervades the opposition, and the other is the exception. They provoke my Conscientiousness and Combativeness."

The weather in Paris proved excessively warm, and he speedily returned to Scotland, and passed the summer in visiting several friends in the country. In a

* In 1833 Dr Spurzheim received several pressing invitations from the friends of Phrenology in the United States to go thither and lecture, and in June of that year he sailed from Havre to New York. He had nearly completed his first course of lectures in Boston, when he was seized with nervous fever, and after a few days' illness, died there on 10th November 1833. His death was deeply regretted, and the inhabitants of Boston gave him a public funeral, and erected a handsome monument to his memory.

224

RESUMES HIS PRACTICE.

letter to Miss Cox, dated 29th August 1833, written from Duntrune, near Dundee, the residence of Miss Stirling Graham, he writes:—" As to my health, prospects, and employment, there is little doubt that a profession subject to less exposure and anxiety would give me a better chance of longer life; but I am embarked in one, have no other, and must proceed. I am now so well that I have no reason for longer delay in resuming my duties, and will use every precaution to prevent them from injuring me. I should like to know what a sound‑headed medical man thought of my prospects; but my medical friends seem to be averse to minute examination and explicit statement, confining themselves to general remarks, and thinking, apparently, that it would not be agreeable to discuss matters too particularly with me, and I have thus been left very much to my own guidance and knowledge of functions. I sometimes wonder whether I am to go soon, or to patch up and last for some years; which last I am inclined to think will be the case."

On the 25th September 1833 George Combe was married to Miss Cecilia Siddons, and removed to Charlotte Square, leaving Dr Combe and Miss Cox in possession of the house in Northumberland Street, in which they had previously lived together.

Dr Combe now resumed the practice of his profession, and in intervals of leisure wrote articles for the Phrenological Journal, and proceeded with his work on " The Principles of Physiology applied to the Preservation of Health," &c. He was welcomed back by his patients with a cordial esteem; and, but for his infirm health, which still limited his powers of exertion, he would have speedily recovered the ground which he had lost in his practice by his long indisposition.

Among his other contributions to the Phrenological

ANSWER TO DR PRICHARD.

225

Journal,'' is an answer to Dr Prichard's objections against Phrenology, published by him in an ‑article on 'temperament in the Cyclopaedia of Practical Medicine. " Dr Prichard," says he, " takes occasion to introduce the subject of Phrenology, and to express his conviction that its doctrines are untrue. He begins by stating that nearly all that has been advanced of late by English writers against the science, was brought forward many years since, in the most forcible manner, by the Edinburgh Review; and he complains that ‘ similar objections are still, frequently repeated, though most persons have become, or might have become, aware of their inconclusiveness.' It is pleasant to find an able opponent like Dr Prichard thus doing justice upon his coadjutors, and declaring that their arguments go for nothing. We only fear that his successors will repay him in kind, and affirm, with equal truth, that his objections are not less inconclusive than those which he so properly and unreservedly condemns." He then enters on a minute examination of Dr Prichard's arguments, and meets his statement that the collection of six hundred skulls and casts of skulls of insane persons formed by Monsieur Esquirol, affords evidence adverse to Phrenology, by a positive affirmation of the contrary, founded on his own knowledge of that collection and its indications.

" So far," says he, " from the evidence which these six hundred skulls and casts afford being really adverse to Phrenology, the fact is so much the reverse, that we would willingly peril the whole science on the very experiment which Dr Prichard proposes. We would even admit Messrs Esquirol and Metiviér to be the sole judges, provided they would previously prove, to the satisfaction of impartial persons, their " competency " to decide on the form and phrenological indications of the skulls, by each accurately pointing out the situations and

* Vol. viii., p. 649.

226

ANSWER TO DR PRICHARD.

natural size of the cerebral organs, in any three skulls in the collection. But we expect, in return for this concession, that if they fail in the preliminary attempt, and prove themselves ignorant both of the doctrine and its practice, Dr Prichard will in turn admit that their opinion is valueless on account of that incompetency. We know it to be a fact, that when we visited Ivry in September 1831, they were in the state of ignorance above represented, and that, nevertheless, they then gave the same unhesitating testimony against Phrenology which Dr Prichard says they gave to him. But we had the means of estimating its real worth, which he had not ; and hence the error into which he has fallen."

He concludes his remarks in these words

" We regret that we have been forced into this discussion about the value of Esquirol's phrenological opinions ; because we can never forget the advantages which we enjoyed in being admitted to his instructive clinical lectures on insanity at the Salpétrière, and the very high respect which we felt for the talent, zeal, unwearied interest, and conciliating kindness, which characterised his whole conduct towards the unhappy inmates of that vast establishment. His visits and lectures were not only valuable professional, but highly important moral lessons. No one could attend them for a season, and witness their effects in soothing misery, cheering despondency, and inspiring hope into the sinking heart, without being improved in his own moral feelings, and impressed with a higher sense of the dignity of the profession. Neither can we forget the personal kindness and attention with which, on a more recent occasion, he conducted us through the hospital at Charenton and his splendid private establishment at Ivry, and dedicated three hours to the gratification of our curiosity in regard to the details. Gratitude for these advantages and acts of kindness would have effectually prevented us from dragging forward opinions which we think he has inconsiderately emitted, and which, so far as we know, he has never obtruded. But when we find a physician of Dr Prichard's reputation strenuously founding on them in a work of high authority and wide circulation, and which exercises great influence over the opinions of the rising generation, and thus may become the means of retarding the progress of the greatest discovery of the age, we can no longer allow personal considerations to stand in the way of their entire refutation. But we have endeavoured to expose the fallacy of Dr Prichard's arguments, and the erroneousness of M. Esquirol's opinion, without failing in that respect which is due to both of them as men of science and men of sense ; and trust, that in this effort we have Dot been unsuccessful."

ESQUIROL.

227

Connected with this subject, the following extract of a letter from Dr Combe to his brother George, dated Paris, 22d October 1831, may be interesting to the medical reader :

" Esquirol," says he, " has seen and observed a great deal, and might give a valuable history of his experience. His detached articles contain much that is useful. I asked him why he did not publish his labours in a regular work. He answered, that at the time of the insurrection of three days" (which placed Louis‑Philippe on the throne) " he had actually completed two‑thirds of a book of this kind, and had had it advertised, but that he had been so affected and disturbed by these public events, that he had not been able to finish a line since ; not that he suffered personally, but only in common with those who loved their country and hated revolutions. I urged him repeatedly to finish it, which he said he would attempt; but when a man's mind is affected in such a manner, and to such an extent, I fear that little more is to be expected from him. I regret his condition much. He said that we in Great Britain are in the highway to a horrid and bloody revolution, let the Reform Bill pass or not. He is also greatly alarmed about the approach of cholera, and says that when it comes to Paris, he will run to the south. His own expression was, that he is ‘d'une pusillanimité extrème' in regard to it; and yet he never shrank from his duty in attending patients labouring under typhus fever in the hospital. I infer from these circumstances that his best days are past, and that a man ought to work when he is able, and not trust to the future."

It is gratifying to add that Monsieur Esquirol recovered from this state of mind, and in 1838 published his intended work in two volumes, with an atlas, under the title:—" Des Maladies Mentales, considerées sous les Rapports médical, hygiénique, et medico‑legal." In the preface he says :" L'ouvrage que j'offre au public est le résultat de quarante ans d'étude et d'observation." He died on the 12th December 1840.

The following letter, dated Edinburgh, 19th November 1833, from Dr Combe to his nephew Mr Robert Cox, refers to the chapter on Spectral Illusions in the

228	REMARKS ON SPECTRAL ILLUSIONS.

second edition of Mr Macnish's “Philosophy of Sleep," which had been submitted in manuscript to Mr Cox, as a friend of the author, for his suggestions :

" I have read the MS. carefully, and think the account given is clear and satisfactory. Mr Macnish is right not to attempt to explain too much. To say that the organ of Size is affected when the visions are colossal, and Form when faces, half faces, &c., are seen, is in reality to advance nothing beyond an obvious inference from the nature of the faculties of Size and Form. If we could give any explanation why excitement of Size makes the vision colossal and not microscopic, or why excitement of Form produces a vision of faces or persons, rather than of trees or of houses, it would be something. I think Mr M. is right also in not laying much stress on pain in the superciliary ridge, for, so far as I have seen, the pain is more frequently in the exciting organ (generally Wonder). This was the case in the instance of Dr A., mentioned at p. 197 of my book on Mental Derangement, and in the Journal, vol. v., p. 585, as plagued by the invisibles; and in him an inflammatory deposit was found after death in the region of Wonder. This case is remarkable as exhibiting the mental phenomenon of belief in the existence and agency of the invisibles, the PERCEPTION of them never having taken place, owing to the knowing organs having escaped; and as an illustration of this point of doctrine, it may be worth Mr Macnish's attention.

" In a case of delirium tremens in an innkeeper, about whom I was consulted, the spectral illusions continued several days, and had a distinct reference to a large and active cerebellum, conjoined with Wonder. The man refused to allow me to look at a blister which had been placed between the shoulders, because he could not take off his coat before the ladies who were in the room. When I assured him there was no one in the room, be smiled at the joke as he conceived it to be, and, in answer to my questions, described them as several in number, well‑dressed, and good‑looking. At my request he rose up to shake hands with them, and was astonished at finding them elude his grasp, and his hand strike the wall. This, however, convinced him that it was an illusion, and he forthwith took off his coat, but was unwilling to converse longer on the subject. In a few days the ladies vanished from his sight."

On the 22d March 1834, Dr Combe wrote to his brother George as follows:—" You will see an adver

MONTROSE LUNATIC ASYLUM.

229

tisement in to‑day's Advertiser about the Lunatic Asylum at Montrose, which offers a liberal salary, &c., to

a medical gentleman;' application to be made to your friend Mr James Leighton. I should like you to write to him, asking what are the duties, &c., and whether the said gentleman is to control or to be controlled, &c.

“The reason of this application is, that I have a hankering after some such charge, as better suited to my present condition of body and mind than general practice, for which I do not feel that I have adequate stamina."

The same advertisement attracted the notice of Dr W. A. F. Browne, who had studied Phrenology under George Combe, and afterwards the subject of insanity= in Paris, under Esquirol, and who, moreover, had practically devoted himself to that branch of the profession; and he wrote to Dr Combe and his brother, soliciting their influence in procuring the appointment for him. As Dr Combe, from personal intimacy with Dr Browne, entertained a high opinion of his merits, he immediately gave up all idea of himself applying for the situation, and cordially supported the pretensions of his young friend. Dr Browne produced the highest testimonials of fitness for the office from men of distinguished reputation, and these procured for him the appointment; while Dr Combe's standing with the Sheriff and solve of the resident gentry of Forfarshire, who had benefited by his medical judgment and experience, rendered his recommendation not without weight in accomplishing this object.'

Dr Browne gave such high satisfaction as resident medical superintendent of the Montrose Asylum, that he was subsequently chosen to fill the corresponding office in the Crichton Royal Institution for the Insane, near Dumfries; and in public estimation he now stand in the first rank in this branch of the medical profession.

230 	HANWELL LUNATIC ASYLUM.

In May 1834, Dr Combe made a voyage to London for change of air, and in a letter to Miss COX, dated 49 Jermyn Street, 11th May, he illustrates as follows the effect of a certain combination of the cerebral organs, which he had observed in one of the fellow‑passen

gers :

°° Miss	was somewhat of a brunette, of an active tempera

ment, had large observing organs, particularly an enormous Individu
ality, some Ideality, much Love of Approbation, and other good qua
lities. This development made her desire to know every thing and
every body, and every place; but as her reflecting organs were only
moderate in size, her knowledge, without the guidance of principle,
was often inaccurate, and she shed doubt and obscurity around her, in
stead of certainty and light. She said that she knew this great person
and that great person, this lovely scene, and that dear delightful land
scape, &c. She showed me Lord A‑'s splendid property on the
Kent side of the Thames! where he had none ; said his lordship lived
much in Edinburgh, which I doubted; then was sure that he did in
winter, which I still doubted; then was positive that his two daugh
ters, Lady Mary and Lady ‑ spent the winters there, and were
there now, for she had met the latter, not long since. I once more
astonished her by philosophic doubt, and said that both Ladies ‑
and ‑ were in London ; but as for Lady Mary, I surrendered her
to be located at her discretion, for I knew that no such lady existed.
I noticed the tendency of her Individuality to name every thing (vide
my theory in the Journal) ; and it is astonishing how much it helps
one to do so. I know many things well, to which I can give no name,

many diseased states, for instance."

Dr Combe's Individuality was deficient.

During this excursion, he visited the Lunatic Asylum at Hanwell, of which he gives the following description in a letter to Miss Cox, dated London, 16th May 1.834:—

°° Mrs Maconochie and I went to Hanwell Asylum on Wednesday, and spent four hours there with extreme satisfaction. It is entirely a pauper asylum, and contains nearly 600 patients, and yet so admi

Phrenological Journal, vol. iii., p. 120, on the Talent for recollecting Names.

HANWELL LUNATIC ASYLUM,

231

rably managed that order, quiet, and comfort, reign throughout. Scarcely fifty can be considered in a curable state, and the number of very bad cases is thus unusually great; and yet, even among the worst, the idiotic, the furious, and the epileptic, there was an aspect of comparative cheerfulness, perfect order, and confidence in the motives of the managers, which is an admirable proof of the general system of treatment being actively kind, discriminating, and judicious. Employment is sedulously attended to, and with the best effects. (gardening, field cultivation, baking, brewing, shoemaking, tailoring, basketmaking, straw‑plaiting, washing, and many other things, are carried on by the patients, and every indulgence, such as tobacco, &c., is made to depend on work being done. Example goes very far in inducing most of them ; and the consciousness of being considered useful impels many more, and stimulates and comforts their best feelings, and connects them with the sympathies of sane minds. The appearance and the reality of forced confinement are thus greatly reduced, and apparatus of government is so little visible that every one looks as if left to his own care. This confidence has not been abused, no accident having ever happened among them; while the moral feelings are manifestly cherished and active. Their likings and dislikings are considered, and allowance made for them. They are all addressed to the utmost, possible extent as rational creatures ; and, in every stage, this is found to be the best and soundest treatment. I insist on this in my book, and have sometimes been thought credulous for it. Were recent cases sent to Hanwell, I feel assured that a vast proportion would be cured. The sane part of the establishment is by far the most troublesome, from the instinctive tendency which coarse uneducated keepers have to resort to harshness and compulsion. Dr Ellis, the resident physician, is a cheerful, benevolent, and sensible man, blessed with a wife who is a treasure, not to him only, but to the whole, establishment. She has a very large head of prodigious moral height and fine intellect. The coronal region is quite predominating, and gives a kind of prolonged tone at times that looks lymphatic, but which is truly the sentiments luxuriating in their office. Her influence in tranquillizing and cheering the patients is manifestly very great ; and if any body doubts the efficacy of morality and intelligence on the insane, I would defy him to pass some days here and remain sceptical. It gives one confidence in the ultimate destinies of human nature to witness its aspect at Hanwell. I am pleased, you may suppose, to find every principle laid down in my book on insanity borne out by years of practice in this establishment. Both Dr and Mrs Ellis, I may add, are themselves phrenologists, and aware of its value, to a very considerable extent."

232

LETTER TO A MOTHER

In the following letter, dated 4th August 1834, addressed to Airs P Q , several views which he subsequently published in his work on "The Physiological and Moral Management of Infancy" may be traced:

“On reading a note of the lessons and occupations given by (a governess), I am quite satisfied that a chief cause of her indifferent health is her having too much to do, too continued a strain on her attention, and too little relaxation ; and I am not less convinced that the children must suffer from the same cause, and that their powers of active application, and progress in their studies, must be impaired rather than improved.

" The prevailing error in modern education is having too little regard to the physical condition and mental wants of the young, and applying to them rules which are fitted only for minds arrived at maturity. The young are in a constant state of growth and transition up to twenty or twenty‑five years of age, and consequently neither their brains nor their bodies can bear continued and formal application without injury. But in despite of this, modern education devotes itself as assiduously to mental cultivation, as if the brain were capable of unremitting action in the same direction ; and the result is, that the power of steady attention is weakened, studies are prosecuted with monotonous indifference, and the bodily health is never robust. Whereas, if we would consent to look at the designs of the Creator, we should see that the physical structure of man requires for its perfect development the same playful muscular indulgence which is so characteristic of the young cat, dog, or horse, and which is essential to their future strength and health. The enjoyment which the young of the lower animals have in motion, may seem merely a pleasure granted to them by a beneficent Creator, but in reality it serves the higher purpose of contributing to their perfection. Man is subject, in this respect, to the same law, and the appetite for motion and play which all healthy children manifest, is a means granted to them for the express purpose of developing their physical powers and moral feelings, which ought to be cultivated quite as much as mere intellectual superiority, or, in fact, a great deal more, because without this condition, real intellectual superiority can scarcely be obtained. Even when children are allowed wholesome play, the latter is often rendered unavailing by being stamped with the formality of the parents' mind, instead of being the effect of the child's own faculties. We are so differently constituted, that no mature mind can prescribe

ON THE MANAGEMENT OF HER CHILDREN. 		233

real play for a child, or even one child for another. What one delights in, another pronounces to be tiresome; and if all are made to adopt the same, the chief advantage is at once sacrificed. The great matter is to get children to do heartily what they are about. If they are to have lessons, do not let these be so long continued as to wear out or tire their powers of exertion. If they are to play, let them do it in their own fashion, and not according to older people's rules, except in forbidding what is wrong. By regulating too much for thorn, we make them little men and women before their time, but we destroy their elasticity as children, and sacrifice their future independence of character ; and I think, too, we render them more selfish, by having our attention so ostensibly and constantly fixed upon them. Place them in safety, and leave them some freedom of action on their own account, without the pressure of knowing that their every movement is superintended. A child that knows itself watched, cannot by possibility turn its mind away from itself, and at last, if not attended to on all occasions, it thinks itself neglected.

" I meet with no complaint from parents so frequently as that their children do not apply properly, and that they are thus obliged to restrict them from relaxation, and keep them longer employed than they would wish. But in nine instances out of ten, the fault is in the unnatural demand made on the child's power of attention. If a child want fixity of attention, the habit is not to be created by keeping at it, but by requiring strenuous exertion for short periods, no matter how short at first, and extending gradually as strength is gained.

" The object of this long preface is simply to express my conviction that your children, and Miss too, will get greater mental and bodily vigour by your giving them one‑third or one‑half fewer hours of lessons, and leaving them more to the natural impulses of children for their outdoor recreations; and dividing better the times of employment. They rise at half‑past six, and have religious instruction from seven to half‑past eight, and then breakfast. This seems a defective arrangement, as, from the activity of nutrition at that age, no child can profitably apply one hour and a half before eating; and if it eat before application, the stomach is weakened for its regular breakfast. Half an hour of any light employment is all that ought to precede breakfast. Let breakfast occupy one hour, and add half an hour in the open air, and then both mind and body will be ready to act. But writing ought to be reserved for later in the day, as the posture constrains the body and impedes digestion. Two hours of varied study may now be taken, admitting 10 or 15 minutes of relaxation in the middle of it. Then take an hour and a half outdoor exercise, followed by writing and

234

LETTER TO A MOTHER.

arithmetic for another hour. Allow at the very least an hour, or, still better, two hours for dinner and relaxation after it ; then take music, or any thing requiring no great exertion, say for one hour, then history or geography for another hour ;‑half an hour's play, and, lastly, writing, &c., again. If, in walking out, a natural taste for botanical inquiry leads them to examine objects, or they can be led to it casually, cultivate it, but do not let the time for walking or play be converted into a formal lesson time, as it is only entire freedom that can give it true relaxation.

" I have spoken more strongly on this subject, because of late my attention has been directed more closely to the observation of the evil consequences of the prevailing over‑education of the mind and neglect of the real feelings and wants of children.

" The latter can thrive only when treated according to their nature as children, and not as sedate, thinking creatures, which they are not. In the middle and higher classes, they are too little in the society of other children, and, consequently, their feelings and moral sentiments do not receive that practical education which is so suitable for preparing them for active life. Moral and religious instruction is carefully provided; but, from the want of opportunity of exercising their feelings in practice on their equals, the half of the benefit is lost. They are told how to feel and what to do, without having it in their power adequately to practise the precepts which they receive. The good conduct of children towards their parents, or towards grown people, is but slender proof of their moral superiority, because, to= wards them, many and mixed motives combine to enforce good conduct. The fair trial is where the natural tendencies come freely out, without any expectation of being seen by those whose displeasure they fear, and hence this is the true field in which character ought to be formed."

HIS WORK ON HEALTH AND EDUCATION.		235

CHAPTER XV.

PUBLISHES HIS WORK ON PHYSIOLOGY APPLIED TO HEALTH AND EDUCATION.‑LETTER ON THE DUTY OF CONFIDENTIAL RESERVE ON THE PART OF A PHYSICIAN.‑LETTER ON THE DUTY OF GIVING OPINIONS ON PRACTICAL MATTERS TO FRIENDS.‑PREMONITORY LETTER OF ADVICE TO A LADY.‑HE PROJECTS ESTABLISHING A LUNATIC ASYLUM.‑RELINQUISHES PRACTICE FOR A TIME.‑LETTER FROM

COUL.‑‑LETTER FROM PARIS.‑REMARKS ON BRIBERY AT ELECTIONS. ‑LETTER TO MR RICHARD CARMICHAEL.‑DR COMBE IS APPOINTED PHYSICIAN TO THE KING OF THE BELGIANS.

NOTWITHSTANDING his still feeble health, Dr Combe completed, and, in March 1834, published his book on " The Principles of Physiology applied to the Preservation of Health, and to the Improvement of Physical and Mental Education." This work has obtained such an extensive circulation, that it is unnecessary to mention its objects and contents. Suffice it to say, that so diffident was its author, that he had some hesitation in printing even 750 copies of the first edition. The impression was

sold to an eminent publisher in Edinburgh, who offered £40 for a second edition of 1000 copies, but which sum Dr Combe, considering it inadequate, declined to accept.

On the 14th November in that year, he wrote to the late Mr John Murray, publisber in London, as follows:" In March last I published a volume of about 380 Pages in post 8vo, entitled ‘ The Principles of Physiology,' &c. The first edition, consisting of 750 copies, was exhausted about the end of June or beginning of July. At the end of July a second edition of 1000

236	WORK ON HEALTH AND EDUCATION.

was published, which is now so nearly exhausted that I have commenced printing a third, which I intend making 3000 copies. The object of the present letter is to inquire whether you would be disposed to purchase the proposed or any larger edition, and on what terms." The proposed purchase was declined. Dr Combe subsequently applied to other publishers; but, finding it difficult to conclude a satisfactory arrangement with them, he ultimately adopted the mode of publication which is the only resource of young authors who have not acquired a recognised position in public estimation; namely, he printed this edition at his own expense, and employed publishers in London and Edinburgh to sell the copies on commission. The sales of this and his subsequent works speedily became so extensive that he found it advantageous to pursue this plan of publication with them all. " The Principles of Physiology aplpied to Health," &c., was eminently successful; and at the time of Dr Combe's death in 1847, 28,000 copies of it had been sold, exclusive of numerous editions in the United States of North America.

It is only justice to a class of men whose conduct is often harshly spoken of in the biographies of authors, to mention that Dr Combe did not consider himself unkindly or ungenerously treated by the publishers to whom he offered his works. His estimate of his own merits was so modest, that he was not mortified by the caution which they practised in declining to hazard their property on the faith of his deserts being recognised by the public; and in all his subsequent transactions with them, as venders of his books on commission, he recognised in them integrity and punctuality. It is true that authors who dispose of their works by the agency of publishers are subject to deductions, in name of commission and other allow

HIS RESERVE ON CONFIDENTIAL COMMUNICATIONS. 237

ances, amounting in all to about forty‑two per cent. from the price at which the books are sold to the public, and exclusive of the expenses of advertising, which also are defrayed by the author. But as bookselling is an open trade, and no safe and respectable establishment will sell for authors on lower terms, we may rest assured that experience has established the fact, that in the present state of society, this is the minimum rate at which the publishers' duty can be properly discharged; and that, therefore, there is no injustice in these charges.

The following letter to Miss A B‑, dated 4th November 1834, touches on a point of great importance and delicacy as between a physician and his patients :

" Many thanks for your note, the contents of which astonished me. Any charge more thoroughly at variance with my practice and character than that of my allowing third persons to read letters addressed to me professionally, could not have been devised. Within my memory, I do not know even of one note, letter, or even dinner invitation, which either Miss Cox or any one of the family has opened or read without my having put it into their hands for that purpose. It is so alien to my feelings and principles to allow any such thing, that rather than risk even an approach to it, I avoid speaking of notes, letters, the health or affairs of friends, even, perhaps, when I ought to do so, just for fear of either getting into the habit or saying too much. And I am habitually accused at home of not mentioning ordinary occurrences, which people speak of to my inmates as if they knew all about them from me, and then they express wonder, ‘Did the Doctor not tell you so and so ?' I abstain from such communications on principle, because I both see and hear many things which ought not to be repeated; and there are also many which, although of themselves indifferent, I do not repeat, just because mentioning them would leave it doubtful how much farther I had gone. It was but two days ago a very amiable friend and patient, Miss ‑,made this very remark, that of all the things, serious or indifferent, which in the course of a very long illness and much conversation on all subjects she had told me, not one had come back to her as from me, although she lives surrounded by our common friends ; and she could not help remarking the fact, and the utility of it in obtaining confidence.

238	ON THE DUTY OF ADVISING FRIENDS.

" In regard to letters which may be seen on my table, I take very good care to leave none which may not be printed in the North British Advertiser every Saturday morning without hurting any body's feelings."

The next letter, without a date, addressed to the same correspondent, contains Dr Combe's remarks on the duty of giving opinions to friends.

" I have often thought you wrong in being so very scrupulous about giving your opinion to your friends, when called on in a legitimate manner; and resolved to tell you so. I suspect that Self‑Esteem has a lurking share in your refusal. Every body's opinion, as you know well, is received by every other individual, not as abstract truth, but as his or her opinion; and according to our estimate of the character and judgment of the adviser do we place confidence in the opinion given. In pronouncing your opinion, you do no more than say, that ‘ I, AB‑‑,think so and so, but you, C‑‑ D‑, may think differently, and be very right for all that.' Every one understands that you mean to say so much and no more. As public opinion can be known only by the expression of individual opinion, and we are enabled to place the truth in a clearer light in proportion as we know how our statements affect different minds, I suspect it is a shrinking from duty when we decline to give utterance to our opinions on matters of importance, when fairly and legitimately brought before us. Even an erroneous judgment may help to advance truth. When we discover that our representation has led to error, we should certainly be warned to amend our statement. I beg that you will express your sentiments plainly on my paper. If I shall see that your remarks are sound, it will be my interest to adopt them; and if not, you will at least enable me to see what views may be taken of them by others, and thus put me on my guard. If you analyse your feelings, I am pretty certain that you will find Self‑Esteem interfering with Conscientiousness in causing your scruples."

It was one of Dr Combe's maxims, that the duty of a physician embraces the prevention as well as the cure of disease, and that the highest walk of the medical practitioner is that in which he acts as the friend and adviser of his patients, to lead them to avoid the causes of suffering. The following note, dated Edinburgh, 4th November 1834, addressed to Miss M 
LETTER OF PREMONITORY ADVICE.		239

N‑ , affords an example of the way in which he acted on this principle.

" I do not know what you and your nieces have in view this winter in regard to attending classes and going out, but I think it right to state to you thus early, that the state of health of both would, in my opinion, make attendance on any winter lectures imprudent and unsafe; and I cannot resist the conviction that both of them suffered materially last season from that cause, joined to evening amusements. In saying so, I am fully aware of the disappointment which they may feel, and of the abstract desirableness of their missing no opportunity of either instruction or enjoyment which they may now possess; but it is a deep sense of the necessity of the abstinence which makes me, notwithstanding, recommend it.

" The fact is, that, constructed as our lecture‑rooms are, and exposed, as the auditors must be, to cold on the one hand, and to heat and crowding on the other, no delicate person ought to enter them ; and that the Misses ‑ must at present be so classed, is only too certain, for neither of them presents that healthy vigour of appearance which alone can enable any one to withstand the exposure. Cold feet one day, damp another, and heated air a third, may seem to have produced no great mischief; but if truth and unvariableness be characteristics of the laws of God, as I believe them to be, you may rest assured that the consequences must be bad, and that the line of duty lies in avoiding the cause of evil. I know well the struggle your benevolence and affection will sustain, even to seem to deny them a present enjoyment ; but the wish to yield cannot alter the nature of the case, and true kindness unquestionably demands firmness on your part, and a certain exercise of self‑denial on theirs. You and they will have your reward in due time. In my own instance (to take an example), I know that I could attend lectures, &c., for perhaps two, three, or four weeks, before any very obvious mischief would skew itself; but I know also, that were I to continue, I should find to my cost that the evil had been gathering from the fast, and would not fail to manifest itself more actively than would be agreeable to me. I am, it is true, a more delicate subject than they, but this makes a difference in degree only, and not in kind; and my anxiety is to see them well and happy, instead of ill and wise, or rather ill and little wiser, for they would lose half the benefit from infirm health. I may add, that the same principle applies, though with less force, to yourself.

" I would, therefore, earnestly recommend their devoting their

240 	LETTER DECLINING REMUNERATION,

forenoons to home and outdoor employments, regular exercise, and seeing their friends. I would recommend also constant attention to diet as a means of obtaining sound digestion.

" Another great rule is, when the stomach is weak, to give it less work than when it is well. Let the diet be the same, but less in quantity.

" As to visiting,‑society within reasonable hours, and in a pure atmosphere, is undoubtedly wholesome; but without these conditions it is hurtful. You can judge best when they are likely to be fulfilled.

" It may be, my dear Miss ,that all this is unnecessary, and that the young ladies have no intention of attending classes and going about as they did last winter. In this case it is easy to toss my note into the fire, and forget that it was written. But if otherwise, its warning may be useful.

" Do not, however, suppose that I wish to alarm you. My sole object is, if possible, to prevent an evil which I think ought not to be incurred, and to secure real enjoyment by the rejection of what is only apparent. I may be mistaken in my view, but believing it to be sound, I cannot in honesty refrain from laying it before you."

Another example of his practice of extending to his patients not only prophylactic advice, but every solace which it was in his power to communicate, is exhibited in the following note. It relates to a patient who had been under his care in Edinburgh, but who was subsequently removed to an asylum near Glasgow ; and it shews also the means by which he avoided the charge of intrusiveness, and the suspicion of mercenary motives, when he acted on the spontaneous impulses of benevolence.

	" I have received your note with your very kind inclosure [of e
	fee], which, however, I do not feel warranted in retaining; because,
from the time Mr	went to Glasgow, I considered my profes
	sional services to cease, and have since visited him solely from persona
	regard and friendship. I have gone more frequently of late, only be
	cause he seemed to be in a frame of mind to derive pleasure and bene
	fit from such visits, and there was scarcely any other person who could
	go without the risk of striking against some feeling, and doing more
	harm than good. If my visits gave him pleasure, which I believe

CONSULTS DR SCOTT.

241

they did, therein lay my gratification and reward, and I never thought of going as his physician.

" I was doubtful even whether to take my expenses, and did so at last only to prevent any unpleasant feeling arising in your mind by my refusing them."

The year 1834 concludes with the following evidence that Dr Combe's professional duties and literary exertions bore too heavily on his enfeebled frame.

On the 16th of December, he wrote the following letter to his friend Dr Scott :

" As you are better acquainted with my past and present state of health than any other person in Edinburgh, I wish to ask a question or two, which I trust you will answer as explicitly and candidly as if they were put to you by an uninterested party.

" You are aware that now, at the distance of two years and nine months from the real commencement of my convalescence, I am still unable for any considerable exertion or exposure, although in the enjoyment of a comfortable share of health when exposure is avoided. I can make day visits to a certain extent, but am obliged to decline all night work or considerable exertion. This state of matters is not very pleasant when any thing at all urgent comes in the way, nor can it be very agreeable to the patients, although many of them seem as anxious to save me as themselves. Were it to continue always thus, it would be doing injustice to them, and be productive of discomfort to myself, to persevere in any effort to which I am consciously inadequate. Were the disability to be only for a time, and were there a reasonable hope that I would regain stamina and breath enough again to take all ordinary exposure and fatigue, there would be a motive for subjecting myself and my employers to some present inconvenience. But when I look back to the various occurrences of the preceding years, when I was considered well, I confess I have misgivings as to being ever able to take things as they come. What I want, then, is your open and unbiassed opinion on this point ; as, if I ought to turn to something by which I may maintain myself, and have a better chance for a prolongation of my days, it will obviously be better that I should do so while my health is tolerable, than wait till it is broken and be too late. I have enjoyed existence so far as I have gone, and would therefore take all reasonable means of extending it, if accompanied with moderately good health ; but I do not cling to it with any tenacity, nor had I ever the feeling that I should live long.

242	DR SCOTT'S OPINION OF HIS HEALTH.

" If you would like to join any one with you in this matter, you might talk over it with Dr Abercrombie, who, I doubt not, will readily oblige me so far as to take the circumstances into consideration, and give a sound deliverance thereon. When you have made up your minds will you write me the result ?"

Dr Scott returned the following answer, dated 17th December 1834 :

" MY DEAR COMBE,‑I received your note, and have considered its contents with the anxious attention required in a question of so important a nature, and one so connected with your welfare. I have also consulted with Dr Abercrombie, and find that his views coincide with my own. I shall therefore express my opinion in the open and candid manner you request, though it has not been formed without considerable hesitation and reluctance.

" Taking into consideration the whole history of your case, and more particularly the occurrences of the last four years, I fear we cannot entertain very sanguine hopes that in any given number of years you will be much better enabled than you now are to undergo the whole fatigue and exposure incidental to general practice. Night work, I consider, will for a considerable period be entirely out of the question. From past experience I have little doubt that, with proper care, you may long be enabled to enjoy a comfortable state of health, and to prolong a life so valuable to your friends and important to mankind; but from what has happened I believe that any extraordinary fatigue or exposure would not be unattended with danger."

On the 20th of December Dr Combe addressed the following letter to his brother George :

" I have often and seriously been considering my situation and prospects; and as I wish the benefit of your mature judgment in coming to a decision, I think it best to give you a view of the matter

in writing, and to add my feelings as well as the plain facts.

" I am still, then, in the twenty‑seventh month of convalescence, so

much of an invalid that I cannot expose myself in any way either to
the weather, to fatigue, or anxiety of mind, without being speedily
affected by it; and, in consequence, I cannot pursue my professional
duties with the satisfaction and devotedness which are necessary both to
the welfare of the patient and to the ease of mind of the doctor. When
any thing occurs in the least urgent, I feel it unjust to the patient to

PROJECTS A LUNATIC ASYLUM.

243

undertake his treatment and not be able to give the necessary attendance, and am not relieved from this by the kind assistance of professional friends, because it is not in the nature of things that a stranger coming in at the middle of a case can see exactly how to proceed.

" Such is the present state of things. If my strength were to return, and I could hope to be able, within a reasonable time, to resume the usual duties of my profession, it would be no difficult matter to submit to present inconveniences. But if there is little chance of any such desirable event occurring, then it seems to me clear, that I ought not to continue that charge for which I am and shall continue to be inadequate. My impression has been from the first, that my constitution is unequal to the required duties; and this conviction has been strengthened by the retrospect of the occurrences of the nine years I was in practice ; but I went on, nevertheless, from a wish to be doing something for myself, and an unwillingness to take a darker view than my friends seemed to take, and thus damp their expectations prematurely. But as time passes on, and I am becoming more and more anxious to have something definite before me in the place of an uncertainty, which is in itself detrimental, I thought the best plan was to ask a candid and responsible opinion from Drs Scott and Abercrombie, both of whom know my history and constitution better than any other medical men here. I inclose my note and their opinion, from which you will see that my own impression is well founded, and that I cannot rationally expect to be much better than I am now. If, then, I continue my duties, and by and by begin to go out when and where I am sent for (which I must do sooner or later, if I mean to practise at all), an end will speedily be put to them by my abrupt departure for another world. Whereas, if I can fall upon any means of making a livelihood, without being compelled to risk fatigue, exposure, and anxiety, I may, to all appearance, being a ‘ sober°' and a prudent man, continue to live in tolerable health for a few years more, and help the race with more practical ‘ wisdom,' before becoming the tenant of an underground mansion on a perpetual lease; and this I scarcely need say, I would considerably prefer. If I go on with my present experiment, till, in an evil hour, something happens to induce mischief, it will be too late to change; and it is because I am comfortable and fit for something that I wish to preserve my advantages.

" Should you think that it would be wiser to withdraw from practice in time, the question, and a very puzzling one it is, is, what shall I do ? You, I know, have thought of my being a consulting physician. It is quite true, and with all due modesty be it said, I have often been conscious of considerable discriminating power in investigating disease; but to educate this to real excellence, requires a much wider

244 	PROJECTS A LUNATIC ASYLUM.

extent of practice than I have ever enjoyed or felt able for, and also a greater power of reading, and wider intercourse with practical men, to keep up with rapidly‑advancing knowledge. I have felt the conviction for years, that if I had possessed bodily strength enough to give my brain full play without exhausting it, I should have risen high, and done good to medicine, by a greater infusion of sound principle, and by doing away, as far as I could, with the exclusive or one‑idea'dness of many of its cultivators. But even when in my best health, I used to be disturbed by the impediments caused by my weak physical constitution, and by the' feverish irritability which continued mental exertion brought on. It is the same physical deficiency which lies at the bottom of my aversion to come forward more actively than I sometimes do, and which unfits me for contending with others, even when I differ from them, and could put them right; and for making those personal researches, which any one seeking to advance his art or himself must enter upon. The natural conclusion from all this is, that even were I already qualified to act as a consulting physician, my health would not be adequate to my retaining my place as such, usefully or creditably. My half‑deafness is another serious obstacle, especially in regard to affections of the chest, which constitute a full third of all serious cases.

" Setting aside these two modes of practice, ,l am at a loss what to look to next. Sometimes I think, that advertising for a resident partnership in an established thriving asylum might lead to some opening. At other times, I think of opening an establishment near Edinburgh, and sometimes of looking out for a public institution ; but difficulties attend each. On the whole, I think most might be made of an asylum of a better kind, even although it was not so good as theory would dictate. Most of them are so indifferent, that one moderately good ought to succeed. An inspectorship of asylums, had such a useful office been an efficient and paid one, would have suited me particularly, as our friend Dumont says of his inspectorship ; but as I have nothing to look to in the shape of any appointment, I am anxious to light upon some mode of subsistence, combining utility and the possibility of continued existence.

" One thing you must keep in mind in thinking over this, and it is, that I am not stating views which are of to‑clay or yesterday, but which I have entertained with little change for a considerable length of time, both when well and when ill; and I should add, that, taking my medical acquaintances over head, nineteen out of twenty will be found to concur with Drs S. and A. In fact, had I been given to low spirits, the kind of wondering surprise which most of them express at seeing me so well as I am, would have made me sad long ago; and I

GIVES UP MEDICAL PRACTICE.

245

do not recollect an instance of any one of them having ever expressed a belief, that I would again be able for ordinary practice at any distance of time‑so that I do not think it is my imagination which is misleading me.

" 30th.‑I have kept this beside me till now, as you have been busy about other matters ; but you can consider it at leisure, and let me know."

Every reader will judge for himself of the spirit which pervades this letter. On the back of it the following memorandum, written by his brother, appears:—" 2d January 1835.‑I had a full and consolatory conversation with Dr Combe about this plan, and agreed to aid him in getting an asylum established."

In January 1835, Dr Combe laid his case also before Dr James Clark of London, who concurred with the opinions given by Drs Scott and Abercrombie, as to his inability to continue to discharge the active duties of his profession.

The result of these consultations is recorded in the following note, addressed, in the same month, by Dr Combe to one of his patients:—" As I have not seen you today, I take this method of informing you that, after much deliberation and consulting with my professional friends as to my prospects, I have finally resolved to give up practice, and dedicate two or three years almost exclusively to the recovery of my health, if that be still attainable. '1 * ‑“I have come to this resolution reluctantly, not only because my profession was a means of income, but because it was agreeable to my faculties. I have long foreseen the probability of this result, and am, therefore, less disappointed. In the mean time, I shall go to a larger house, and take a boarder or two in addition to my two nephews, and occupy myself as I best can, taking every means to obey all the laws of health to their utmost extent. If I regain

246

strength, my faculties will find profitable employment in some way; and if I do not, I shall have at least the satisfaction of having done all in my power towards attaining it.

" I mention all this, that you may consider whom you would call in, in case of any serious illness. As to any general advice or superintendence, I shall claim the privilege of an old friend to give a hint when I think it can be useful."

As Dr Combe's health had always been benefited by travelling and change of air, he accepted an invitation from Sir George S. Mackenzie, to visit him at Coul, in Ross‑shire. The following letter to Miss Cox, written there on 17th April 1835, describes the incidents of his journey, in which he was accompanied by his nephew James Cox. It is characteristic of his cheerful disposition, and shews also how readily his mind rebounded into liveliness and activity, whenever it was relieved from the pressure of too much anxiety and labour.

LETTER FROM COUL.

" We far‑sighted mortals put off a journey for six weeks to have the pleasure of fine spring weather, and we find ourselves rewarded by a nip from the north, that runs through and through a long, lank, lean lad, like a long two‑edged sword.

" The world, however, is an excellent and admirable world, for all that; and if we get frost and snow, and north‑easters, when we look for zephyrs, roses, and butterflies, still it cannot be said that snow shuts up coal‑pits, or frost puts out the fire. But to begin at the beginning, let us start from Princes' Street, on a fine, mild, breezy, Monday morning, for Glasgow, after having stowed away a comfortable breakfast. One place only was left unoccupied inside the coach, ‑the worst, of course. It was sadly shorn of its dimensions by two fat gentlemen, each three feet broad at the shoulders, and with arms to match, between whom my long body was expected to deposit itself, in apparent defiance of that law which holds matter to be impenetrable. There was no remedy, however, and I got in one side so far as to stick, and let the door be shut ; but the breath was almost squeezed out of my chest, and my breakfast out of my stomach, before my

LETTER FROM COUL.

24'7

corpus subsided so far as to reach the cushion. Opposite were three very great men, Peter B‑ and two great unknowns. By and by the said Peter the great, finding the air impinging disagreeably upon his frontispiece and windpipe, resolved to cut off its channel of communication, by shutting the only open window. The sound of remonstrance died away unheard in my larynx, from the absence of air in my lungs to give it volume. Speedily the asphyxiating process commenced. Silence prevailed where eloquence was before heard, faces became pale that were before rubicund, mouths opened that were before shut, sleep pressed down the eyelids that were before briskly cocked for action, and sonorous rale was heard. I was at last apprehensive that consciousness would vanish, and six bodies be found where six souls had entered along with them, and paid for their transport; and, with an effort, I pushed out a hand to pull down the window. When this was effected, an eye twinkled, a huge mouth opened, a pair of lungs expanded and engulfed a coachful of air, and presently tongues moved once more. Our lives being thus protracted, we reached Glasgow at length, and found that the boat was not to sail till three o'clock ;‑a circumstance of great comfort, as it shewed that we might have breakfasted at home, and come along comfortably at nine o'clock. James outside had as much air as he could swallow, and ran no risk of death from asphyxia. His mother will rejoice to know this.

" Our boat, ‘ The Maid of Morven,' is closely verging upon that respected class in society called, why I know not, ‘ old maids,' or, Scotticè, ‘ Sneckies.' Still she is a very clever and efficient personage, when she sets about her work in time. On this occasion, however, she was a quarter of an hour too late; and, to make up for lost time, panted down the Clyde at such a rate, that when she came near PortGlasgow she was quite out of breath, and had to sit down and rest herself for a couple of hours on a sand‑bank, which opportunely presented itself, and where she found her friend ‘Hercules' also reposing himself after his labours, which had consisted in dragging an unwilling vessel against wind and tide, in a direction opposite to ours. While Hercules and the Maid were interchanging civilities, we thought a book might be agreeable, and asked the Maid's manservant where her library was. He said he was extremely sorry it was all away bodily at the binding, except the almanac ‘ with a western appendix.' Having procured and studied this, we asked for the backgammon box. The man brought the box, but lamented the absence of three men from each party : they had run away, and taken the dice and shaking‑cup with them ! which he hoped we would excuse.

248

LETTER FROM COUL.

There was no help for it but pazienza, and an invitation to tea, which proved by its excellence to be worthy of the old Maid herself.

" After a few hoasts and blasts, which sounded very like steam rushing out of a narrow pipe, the Maid recovered her wind, nodded adieu to her companion, and danced off gaily in a wreath of smoke. On she paddled all night. Being about as long as three mussel‑shells, and as broad as one, she gave us us no choice of accommodation, and so we outstretched ourselves on her cushions, with pillows beneath our heads, as we best could. Sleep soon followed; and at the very time I was in the loveliest fields of Elysium, a tug‑tug startled me; when down went my head, and ended my dream. This was a horrid monster of a man, who had been looking about for a pillow for his own ugly head, and finding none, came to rob me by stealth, trusting to the apoplexy to hide the enormity of his offence ! Well, order being restored, ‘on we went; but, alas, the evils of delay ! The rest which the Maid took on the sand‑bank did not much hasten the time of her arrival at Crinan; and accordingly, when she got there, it appeared that the tide had waited for her as long as possible, and, having business elsewhere, had at last gone away, and left the canal door locked, and taken the key in her pocket, with a promise, however, to come back as soon as she could, and let us in. In five hours she redeemed her word, and away we went in high spirits. At two o'clock we reached the sea at the far end, where it was blowing a genuine south‑wester of fine quality,‑which made a foaming sea, and stirred up one's perceptions very pleasingly. On reefed sails being set, and the paddles put in motion, away went the Maid, walking or galloping the waters like a thing of life; and past us flew rocks, foam, and islands, each in a greater hurry than the last. ‘ There's metal in the old Maid's heels yet,' thought I, and so it proved; for she spanked along for a while, with wind, tide, and steam, at twelve knots an hour,‑a pace which few young men could keep up with long. Nevertheless, all her efforts served only to show the wild magnificence of Nature, and the inefficiency of poor man to cope with or thwart her. On reaching Linnhe Loch, the lost quarter of an hour once more demanded compensation. The tide had turned against us, and caught us in a narrow gorge a mile in length, where it ran with such violence, that the wind having failed, the Maid could barely maintain her ground with all her power in play, and down went the anchor along with our hopes of a bed. The quarter of an hour would have carried us through !

Still, if a man do his best, we know very well that he can do no more; and wherefore grumble ? So did the Maid. She plied her paddles well; and if the water would go past her, instead of letting her go past it, she could not help it. We, therefore, agreed, that she

LETTER FROM COUL.

249

deserved well of her country, and that, beds or no beds, squall or no squall, the world was still a capital world, and not to be despised, even though it was not so agreeable to find oneself sprawling in it among stools and tables, when one expected a good hotel and comfortable bed. So, once more having slipped a comfortable tea under our belts, we resigned ourselves to Morpheus. In the morning of Wednesday, we found ourselves at the Caledonian Canal, in a clear, frosty, calm morning, with Ben Nevis and his bairns enveloped in their fleecy hosiery, to meet the altered temperature. It was snell, but beautiful, and worth a nip or two of one's nose and ears to behold. On reaching Loch Lochy, James and I remarked how magnificent a heavy snow gust would look here. No sooner said than done. A cloud came tumblinâ down the mountain side; out flew the snowflakes; and in a jiffy sweep came a gusty blast that ruffled abundantly the surface of the waters, before lying placidly, awaiting the approach of ° The Maid.'

" 19th April.‑I left you in the middle of a gust on Loch Lochy ; and as that is not a pleasant position for a person of your tender feelings to remain in, I must now come to your relief, and carry you onwards.

" At Glengary's country, we took in a Nova Scotia Celt, descended from a Highland family in the neighbourhood, and connected, of course, with cousins in all directions, whom he was now on his way to visit. He mounted a shred of the tartan, in honour of his original country; but when the wind blew and the snow fell, he was glad to veil his dignity, and hide himself in a Lowland cloak borrowed from a passenger. We had also a handsome, big‑nosed, wild‑looking, blackeyed Buenos‑Ayrian on board, who kept up the steam by copious libations of the mountain‑dew. W a had an excellent, clean, well‑cooked table, and very civil attendants, and arrived at Inverness on Wednesday evening, at eight o'clock. The mountain sides were bare and leafless, but there was a bleak grandeur in their aspect, as the clouds gathered around them, and came down in heavy gusts upon the water. The little hovels scattered over the slopes seemed like marks for the winds to hit, and hurl down head‑foremost into the lake; and truly, when one sees the wretched huts‑half house, half pig‑sty‑which shelter so many fellow‑creatures thus isolated from society and the comforts of civilisation, one cannot but be grateful for a happier lot, and anxious to see the day when these poor wretches are to be raised a little higher above the beasts that perish. On the Crinan Canal, we met two or three large open boats loaded with swine, pigs, and little stets (oxen), guided by long‑legged, ragged, kilted, dirtylooking Celts, so wobegone and unhuman in their appearance, that

250

LETTER FROM COUL.

the pigs seemed the happier, better fed, and better dressed of the two. Truly, when we think it is by no choice or virtue of our own that we are born to a dukedom or a dunghill, the debt which the more fortunate owes to the unfortunate becomes a very heavy one.
" On arriving at the Caledonian Hotel, Inverness, we were ushered in among a party of vociferous, toddy‑drinking, half‑tipsy bagmen, one of whom was holding forth in an if‑you‑have‑tears‑prepare‑to‑shedthem‑now style, about the examination of the perpetrator of a most diabolical murder, with which the country side was ringing. He gave the appearance and conduct of the accused, and the whole order of the dialogue to the very life, as if he had not only seen it, but been a magna pars in enacting the original. He described the appeals to the murderer's feelings with great and melting pathos; but the tear which dimmed his eye was half‑and‑half diluted Glenlivet whisky. I was afraid that they would by and by quarrel with the presence of two sober men, and asked for a parlour to ourselves.
" ‘ Oh, la bella primavera dells nostra antica Scozzia !' said I. to myself, as I lay in my warm, comfortable bed yesterday morning, at Inverness, dazzled by what I imagined to be the brilliancy of the sun's rays reflected from the whitened walls of the opposite hostelry;
yesterday was a little cool, it must be confessed,' continued I in my soliloquy, shivering even at the recollection of the sharp‑edged northeaster, which swept in gusts along the surface of the Highland lochs, as if about to tear the flesh from the bones of those, at least, who had any on ; but to‑day, to a certainty, we have the genial breath of spring and Roger's ‘ sunny morning to cheer our bluid, and put a' nature in a jovial mood ;' and in the joyful anticipation of the pleasure, I sprang out of bed at one bound, like a long‑legged grasshopper wakened out of a dream, and in a hurry pulled open the windowcurtains, when instantly my teeth began to chatter, and my knees to knock, on perceiving the snow falling in clouds, and the earth covered to a depth of three inches ? Such is human life!
" We staid at Inverness till Thursday morning, and had the satisfaction of seeing the whole country in a three‑inch mantle of snow, and Fort‑George standing out of the water like a white wall. We crossed at Kessock‑Ferry, hired a chaise, and got to Coul to lunch at two o'clock, and found all well, and a hearty welcome. Sir George is immersed in medical practice among the poor people, and manifests great kindness in attending to them. I was forthwith pressed into the service, but soon felt it a hopeless burden. Fancy to yourself a poor consumptive creature, with irritable lungs, living in an atmosphere of thick smoke, with wind blowing in at every chink, the

VISIT TO PARIS.

251

floor and bed dirty, the face and limbs unwashed, and add to this, the clandestine administration of whisky, and a wretched diet ; and then say what could Esculapius himself do for them if he were here ? Three out of four I could touch only with gloves on, from the itch."

After his return from Coul, he made an excursion to France, and a few introductory explanations are necessary to render his next letter intelligible to the reader. In August 1817, his brother George travelled from Paris to Mayence, in a French diligence. In those days, time was not estimated at so high a value as it is in this age of railroad locomotion; and the diligence travelled‑ only about ten or twelve hours a‑day, stopping every evening at a town or village for supper and sleeping, and starting the next morning at five or six o'clock. In this manner, the transit from Paris to the Rhine occupied nearly a week; and as the same passengers had taken their places for the whole journey, they became better and better acquainted with each other as they proceeded on their way. Among the passengers was a Mons. S‑, a German by birth, but who had been long settled in Paris, where he had realised a fortune. He was accompanied by his only child, Eugenic, then a young lady of about eighteen years of age. He was returning in advanced life, after a long separation, to revisit his fatherland, and to introduce his daughter to his surviving relatives. To great talents and extensive information, the old gentleman added all the frank kindheartedness of the German, and he and George soon became friends. On parting at Mayence, M. S
gave George many cordial invitations to visit him and his wife and daughter in Paris; and when, in the month of October of the same year, Andrew went to that city, he presented himself to M. S‑, bearing an introduction from George. They received him most affection‑

252	VISIT To PARIS.

ately, and he soon became very intimate in the family. The preceding pages, 54, 61, 81, bear evidence of the happiness he enjoyed in their society.
In the course of Andrew's residence in Paris, M. S introduced to his daughter a lover whom he regarded as worthy to receive her hand, and to inherit his fortune ; bait, unfortunately for the old gentleman's choice, the young lady had already found a lover for herself, to whom she was warmly attached; and as she had taken her mother into her confidence, she now appealed to her for support. The mother, after seeing both suitors, greatly preferred Eugenie's choice; but the father's friend held a superior social position to that of his rival, and was therefore strongly supported by the father.
During Dr Combe's visits to the family, they had frequently been struck by the acute and correct descriptions which, with the aid of Phrenology, he gave them of the talents and dispositions of individuals whom he met in their circle, and whom they knew intimately; and as both parents loved Eugenie dearly, and aimed only at her happiness, they took him into their counsels, and asked him to examine the heads of the two lovers, and to advise them honestly and confidentially which was the superior roan. Ile did so, and reported that the father's friend was by nature selfish, cunning, and ambitious; while Eugenie's choice, in whom a good development of the intellectual, was united to a large development of the moral organs, evidently was the higher natural character of the two. The father having, it is believed, subsequently discovered the true character of his candidate, yielded ; and in the course of time Eugenie and her lover were married. The following letter, dated Paris, 20th May 1835, addressed to

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253

i1liss Cox, describes Dr Combe's visit to her after an interval of sixteen years :—

" Y ou will be glad to know that, compared with 1833, I find my system much invigorated, and not nearly so much mollified by the rays of the solar luminary, although yesterday the temperature was 78°. I have been throughout gratified morally and physically by this journey. I went to see Eugenie's husband, and found him active, kind, and intelligent, as I expected: he has risen to the head of a public company, and is living handsomely, and very happily, with his wife, children, and mother‑in‑law. Eugenie's father has been dead for some years. She is at the Chateau de ‑‑, 14 miles off in the valley of Montmorency. I went out to breakfast yesterday, and found her the same kind and affectionate creature as ever, and astonished to see me drop from the clouds in a fine summer morning, when they had lately believed me ‘aussi hoot que le paradis.' There was a Swiss lady with her, who thought Eugenie seized with sudden madness, when she saw her run out of the house, ‘ et se jeter au coo d'un grand inconnu comme Monsieur,' and heard her telling that her heart was like to jump out of its jacket (anatomicè pericardium) with joy and surprise. I was uya pen énzu aussi de mon cote, as the meeting recalled years in moments. I was delighted to find her mistress of a handsome chateau, with a park of thirty acres, a garden, a pigeonhouse of ‘ 2800 habitans,' a ‘ nrcE 3IAN ' for a husband, a pretty little son, and a geotille little daughter as tall as herself, a cabriolet, cocks, hens, turkeys, cow, horse, and wheelbarrow. She said she was ‘ très heurcuse daus son m.énage,' and that they often laughed at my examining the heads at the time of the ‘grand, e‑mbrouillement avec le pere
.' She inquired for Monsieur George, was glad to hear that he was married ; and when I told her to whom, she cried, ‘ Ah, men Dieu, que j'en suis aise ?' The best of friends must part, and so did we at twelve o'clock. Eugenie sent me in her cabriolet eight miles to 8t Denis, but unwilling to think that I was not to return. I was truly delighted to see so much happiness and prosperity so well bestowed. She took me through the house, and promised me plants if I would come and botanise again, and rosbif aux pommes‑de‑terre for dinner as of old. On my return I fortunately found Madame S, and was glad to see her looking well, moral, and happy, and devoted to her grandaughter and son‑in‑law."

The rejected lover subsequently justified, by his con‑

254	RESUMES LIMITED PRACTICE.

duct, the opinion formed of him by the ladies and their friend.
During the summer of 1835 Dr Combe resided chiefly in Edinburgh, but was not allowed altogether to relinquish the practice of his profession. Appeals for advice were still made to him, which he could not resist, and he continued to labour to the limit of his strength. Re, however, resolutely abstained from going beyond it; and when it was known that he was benefited by locomotion and change of air, he was called in to consultations in the country, and treated as a guest and a friend, greatly to the advantage of his health. In a letter dated Edinburgh, 2d September 1835, to Miss Stirling Graham, who had invited him to visit her at Duntrune, he says:—

“I shall be happy to avail myself of your kind invitation, if opportunity offers. For some months past I have been almost weekly in the country, in one direction or another, and am just waiting a little improvement in ‑ 's health, who is ill of fever, to go again to Lanarkshire. I am unwilling to leave her till I see her in a fair way, as hers is the more pressing case. It is true Dr ‑‑ is equal to the duty, but she and her friends have confidence in me, and moral tranquillity is part of the means of cure. They have always shown me so much kindness, that I cannot do less than render them every service in my power. As these excursions are useful to others and,:’

advantageous to myself, I wish to be in the way when wanted, anUvery probably I shall have another, beyond Dunbar, on my return from

Lanarkshire. If, however, I get quite free, it will give me great,' pleasure to spend two or three days at Duntrune."

Writing to a friend who had taken an interest election of a member of parliament for a borough in which bribery was alleged to have been extensively x&‑. sorted to, he says :—

" I cordially concur in desiring the approach of a healthier state of moral feeling in all classes of society, and in all parties, on the subject of elections. The contention, corruption, and bitterness of

LETTER TO MR RICHARD CARMICHAEL.		255

ing engendered on these occasions, are heavy penalties paid for the abuses now existing, and go far to counterbalance the blessings of a representative government. I am quite aware that Whig morality is, generally speaking, not one whit better in this respect than that of the Tories : but the practice is so demoralising to both bribers and bribees, that however much I might regret individual suffering and annoyance, I should rejoice to see EVERY case meet with speedy and complete exposure ; because, were exposure certain to follow, an end would be put to the evil at once."

In a letter, dated Edinburgh, 25th November 1835, addressed to Mr Richard Carmichael, of Dublin, Dr Combe gives an account of the design which he had entertained of establishing a lunatic asylum :—

" Ever," says he, " since I saw the advantages which Phrenology confers on the practitioner in the treatment of the insane, I have had in view the establishment of an improved asylum. For the first few years, it was necessary to pave the way, by advancing both the science and myself as a professional man. In the former object, we have succeeded to a greater extent than could reasonably have been expected. In the latter, my progress was becoming every day more satisfactory, when bad health, as you know, put a stop to all my projects, and forced me to seek the continuance of life as the most urgent necessity. I therefore resolved to give up practice and dedicate every effort to the recovery of health alone, as the means of fitting me for undertaking an asylum as soon as I should be sufficiently recovered to render it probable that the capital embarked would not be thrown away by my premature decease. Since January, I have accordingly acted on this principle, and have been so far rewarded that I have gained steadily in health ever since ; although I still feel myself easily affected by anxiety or fatigue when either extends beyond one or two days' duration.
" You will see by this, that I had no view to an immediate commencement, because I thought that such a step would be hazardous, my nephew being still too young to undertake the charge, should I disappear. The plan floating through my mind was this: if I continued well, to proceed on a tour of inspection of similar establishments, and even to reside in one of the best for some months to obtain more practical experience ; to solicit my nephew to direct his attention to the subject also ; and thereafter, if I was likely to live, to ask the co‑operation of friends, and found an institution of the first order,

256	LETTER FROM SIR JAMES CLARK.

and calculated for the higher class of patients. To effect this, not only must we have a suitable building and grounds, but we must have those who are to manage acquainted with their duties, and worthy of the confidence which we claim. All this could not be done in less than from two to three years."

He then asks Mr Carmichael's opinion of the scheme, and enters into solve details about his co‑operation.
Mr Carmichael approved of the plan, and solve effort were made towards finding a suitable locality‑for the intended institution ; but before any decisive measures were adopted, anew field of usefulness opened up to Dr Combe, which appeared to him particularly suited to his state of health and dispositions.
In the month of January 1836, Doctor (now Sir James) Clark proposed to him to become physician to Leopold I., King of the Belgians; and in a letter dated London, 16th January 1849, addressed to the author of the present volume, Sir James gives the following aocount of his appointment:—
" is quite natural that you should wish to know what led me to recommend your brother as physician to the King of the Belgians. At that period I had but a very slight personal acquaintance with Dr Combe ; indeed, I had then forgotten that I had ever seen him. Ile was known to me by his work on Physiology, by a few letters, and by a written consultation, which was submitted to me, and which alone would have enabled me to form an opinion of his professional acquirements and judgment.
“When the King of the Belgians expressed a desire that I should recommend a physician to his nephew the King of Portugal, Dr Combe immediately occurred to .me as a physician admirably qualified for such an appointment; and, at the same time, I thought that the climate of Lisbon was likely to prove beneficial to

LETTER TO CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE.		257

his health, which I knew to be delicate. The inquiries which I instituted among my medical friends in Edinburgh satisfied me that I had formed a just estimate of your brother's character and qualifications.
“In the mean time, however, it had been arranged that, a German physician should accompany the Prince Ferdinand of Saxe‑Coburg‑Gotha to Portugal; but so strongly was the King of the Belgians impressed by the character he had received of Dr Combe, that he expressed a strong desire to have him as his own physician. This was accordingly arranged to the satisfaction of both, and Dr Combe immediately joined the Royal Family at Brussels."
In a letter dated 20th February 1836, addressed to Captain DTaconochie, R.N., London, Dr Combe mentions his appointment and views in the following terms:—

" I write you, though rather hurriedly, because I know it will give you all pleasure to learn that two days ago I received an offer to go to Brussels as physician to the King of the Belgians,‑an offer which, I must say, took me by surprise as much as its announcement will probably astonish you. The advantages of the appointment, both as regards my health and the duties belonging to the situation, are so obvious, that I could not hesitate to accept of it. But as I am personally unknown to the King, and he may, therefore, be little satisfied with his physician when he sees him; and, moreover, as I am uncertain how the climate and mode of life may affect me, I shall keep up my house here under Miss Cox's auspices, at least till November, so that, if necessary or advisable, I may quietly return and resume my occupations.
" The appointment is a highly honourable and responsible one, and if I shall succeed in obtaining, on sufficient grounds, the confidence of their Majesties, I shall sincerely rejoice. The cause of truth and human improvement in which, for years past, I have been engaged, will advance the faster even from the simple fact of its honest advocacy being no barrier to personal advancement; although, at first sight, the prejudices by which we phrenologists are surrounded seem sufficient to damp all hope of personal success. Dr Clark is the person to whose recommendation and friendly partiality I am indebted for the offer.
" I am over head and ears in proof‑sheets, MSS., and other prepara‑

R

258	LETTER TO CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE.

tions. The third edition of my ‘Physiology,' although 3000, is drawing so fast to a close, that I shall not have a fourth part of a new edition ready in time. I have 200 pages of a new work on the Pbysiology of Digestion printed, but I fear it will be suspended. The Boston (U. S.) publishers wish a second edition of the work on Mental Derangement immediately, so that I have work enough on hand. But I act upon the laws as well as write upon them, and am, consequently, in improving health."

DR COMBEIS ARRIVAL IN BRUSSELS.		259

CHAPTER XVI.

ARRIVAL IN BRUSSELS.‑RECURRENCE OF HIS PULMONARY AFFECTION. ‑REMARKS ON THE LOCALITIES OF THE ROYAL PALACES, AND ON THE CLIMATE OF BELGIUM.‑RETURNS TO EDINBURGH.‑VISIT TO DEANSTON SPINNING‑MILLS.‑LETTERS DESCRIPTIVE OF HIS TAKING LEAVE OF THE KING AND QUEEN OF THE BELGIANS.‑REVISITS BRUSSELS.‑IIIS RECEPTION BY THE KING AND QUEEN.‑VISITS THEIR CHATEAU NEAR DINANT.‑RETURNS TO EDINBURGH.‑PUBLISHES HIS WORK ON " THE PHYSIOLOGY OF DIGESTION," Ô?C.REASONS FOR NOT WRITING ON " PHYSICAL EDUCATION," FOR MESSRS W. AND R. CHAMBERS.‑DESCRIPTION OF SEVERAL LUNATIC ASYLUMS.‑HIS INCOME IN 1835 AND 1836.

DR COMBE left Edinburgh in the end of March 1836. In London he was presented to the Duchess of Dent and the Princess Victoria, and graciously received by them. On former occasions, he remarked his bad luck at sea; and, in this instance also, he was unfortunate in weather. The voyage from London to Ostend was performed amidst a storm which forced the steamboat in which he embarked to take refuge in Ramsgate; and, when at length he arrived at Ostend, he saw an English wreck on the strand, and found the country deluged with melting snow and rain. Nevertheless, he escaped without perceptible injury to his health.
In a letter to Miss Cox, dated Brussels, 5th April 1836, he says:—

" I was taken in one of the royal carriages to Laeken, and ushered into His Majesty's presence, and received most graciously and kindly. You, who know how little I spoke of my private patients, will infer that I shall speak still less about their Majesties, except merely in regard to such general matters as any one may mention."

2(jU	RECURRENCE OF PULMONARY AFFECTION.

He acted on this principle so scrupulously, that his letters, written during his residence in Brussels, contain only general expressions of the high estimate which he formed of King Leopold and his Queen, and of the uniform kindness and consideration which he experienced from them. On the 9th of May, he requested Miss Cox to come to him at Brussels, as his feeble health prevented him from entering into general society, and he was suffering from loneliness. She immediately went to him; but they were scarcely established comfortably when he found that his strength was not adequate to the due performance of his duties. On the 9th of June he wrote to his brother George as follows :—

" You will be sorry as well as disappointed to learn, that my whole plans are deranged at the very time when I was fancying myself settled, and actually arranging with my predecessor about his going away and leaving me in the sole charge. On Sunday morning I was disappointed to find a rather severe return of hoemoptysis, which continued all day, and gradually subsided only yesterday, as the day advanced. 'Phis was the first attack that had come on since I gave up general practice at the end of 1834. I had been doing nothing to occasion it ; and except a feeling of anxiety, without external cause, for the two days preceding, which I attributed to an electrical and warm atmosphere, I had no consciousness of any unhealthy condition. *~ 4 * On Sunday my pulse was hardish, but not irregular, at 50, instead of 66. Yesterday it was 50, and very soft and compressible. A fortnight ago I had a slight return of the deadly coldness of my arm on waking, as if the circulation was very languid. I may add also, that (as you yourself have remarked in the tone of my letters), although
never, except for a day occasionally, felt the same elasticity, and active enjoyment of bodily and mental health, as formerly. This was such a natural result of my previous bustle and fatigue, that I never mentioned it, thinking it would pass away in proportion as I got
quietly domesticated here. But as yet it continues ; and although our niece's benign countenance is always shining upon me, and I have every external reason to be pleased with my functionary employment8, and with the footing on which I am treated by their Majesties, still I have a strong feeling as if a month's tossing in the Bay of Biscay

never feeling positively uncomfortable at any time, I have

RECURRENCE OF PULMONARY AFFECTION.		261

would do me an unspeakable service. I have a kind of heat in the chest under the sternum, but nothing to speak o£
" This unfortunate occurrence changed very much the current of my thoughts, as it completely uprooted the confidence in my continued health, which alone could justify my remaining, and made me thankful that my predecessor was still here. The season has been very unfavourable, and is sickly to an unusual degree ; chiefly fevers and pulmonary diseases prevail. The Hotel de Z'ille register gives 1800 deaths this spring, whereas only 1500 occurred last spring, and, from all accounts, consumption is very common. The low grounds are more damp and extensive than I imagined; and, even in the higher parts of the town, there is a great deal of ague, a proof of a climate considerably different from ours.
	" Such being the facts, the very obvious question presented itself,
If			goes away and I am left in sole charge, ought I to under
take the heavy responsibility when I may be thus laid up at an hour's
notice, and most likely when most wanted, and when there is nobody
in Brussels au fait of the circumstances to take my place ? It seems
to me that it would be most injurious to the interests of my patients,
and both hurtful and extremely annoying to myself, were such a con
tingency to happen."

He communicated the state of his health in a, letter to Baron Stockman on the part of the King, and also to Dr Clark ; and the result is mentioned in a letter to his brother, dated Brussels, 21st June 1836 :—

" I received your welcome letter on Sunday, and was glad to have ‑our opinion, such as it was, and your approval of the past. It was impossible for you to speak more decidedly in your necessary ignorance of all the circumstances of the case. Ere this you will be aware that I have agreed to a farther trial, as the King, Baron stockman and Dr Clark, all concurred in recommending it ; while all of them agreed that the view which I took of my position, probable inefficiency, and consequent inability to undertake the whole responsibility, was perfectly sound and undeniable. All agreed also to the impossibility of asking me to live at Laeken ; and had they not, I might have referred them to the chapter on the Nervous System in my own ' Physiology' for proof, as in speaking of Governesses I unfold the philosophy of solitude at some length. They, however, were too much alive to its injurious influence on health even to think of proposing it. Their views and mine, in short, coincide so completely,

262	REMARKS ON THE

that if they could easily find a fit successor, I am sure they would say at once, as Louis XI. said to Galeotti when he wanted to prevent Tristan hanging him, ‘ Go in peace, go in peace,' and take care of yourself.
" Had I been thoroughly aware, four months ago, of the real amount of my stamina, I would have declined the appointment. As it,is, I have not a particle of regret that I accepted. I saw that the advantages which it held out would extend their influence far beyond my own personal sphere, and that it might be an instrument of much good ; and believing myself well enough, at least to warrant the trial, I accepted, and would never have forgiven myself had I done otherwise. Having once undertaken the duty, however, I must look to the King's interests as well as my own before giving it up. I have, therefore, agreed to remain for the present, otherwise he would have gone to Paris with a good deal of anxiety on his mind on the subject of the young prince, and would have been hampered in all his movements. But I am to be relieved as soon as a suitable successor can be found."

The resolution to remain even temporarily at his post, was nearly frustrated by au increase of his malady. In a letter dated 7th July, also addressed to his brother George, he says:—

“You naturally lay stress on my slow pulse and nervousness. The latter, however, was a mere complication of three days' duration ; and the former was a pulse disliked equally by Baron Stockmar, Sommer, and Cannstadt, as indicating internal congestion in a weakened frame. The heart acted strongly, but failed to send the blood to the distant vessels in proper quantity. There was disagreeable fever, with heat in the hands and feet, and a red, circumscribed flush on the cheek, which even the Baron said was an inauspicious phenomenon, at variance with my statement one day, that I was ‘ very well.' Subsequently to the appearance of these symptoms, and when they were beginning to decline, I coughed up a distinct tubercle, &c.
and, for a while, it was just a toss of a halfpenny whether I should go rapidly down hill, or again recruit. For some days the chances were against me ; but, by dint of care and tranquillity they turned in my favour, and the expectoration is diminished by more than a half. Still, a mere straw would stir it up again, and the heat is much against me. In this state of matters I need not say that I am equally unfit to

LOCALITIES OF THE ROYAL PALACES.		263

serve the King efficiently, and unwilling to throw away my life by remaining. The nervousness is, fortunately, gone."

Before leaving Brussels he applied all his strength to furnishing suggestions for the benefit of the health of the Royal Family. In a letter, dated the 17th and 19th of July 1836, addressed to Dr Clark, he enters into a searching analysis of the localities and sanitary condition of the royal palaces

" You request," says he, " that I should write out my observations ; and I shall endeavour to do so. The last ten days of cool weather have been much in my favour, and I am in an improved condition compared to two or three weeks ago.
" If the autumn here is attended with the rains usual to the season, assuredly the palace in Brussels must be a much more healthy residence than that of Laeken after October. It not only stands higher, and in a purer air, but it is more remote from the dampness of the low grounds, and is, besides, surrounded by all the dryness of well‑paved streets and inhabited houses, from which the water runs away without leaving damp. I am satisfied that this is a very important element in the salubrity of cities, and one not sufficiently taken into account.
" In judging of climates, we must take into account not only the nature of the locality, and the produce which it bears, but also the prevalence or non‑prevalence of fresh breezes and high winds as ordinary elements. If there is generally little or no wind, the immediate entourage of a place becomes of triple consequence, because the air rests over it, or passes so slowly as to become imbued with all its exhalations. If it is also wooded, this result will be doubly sure, because the wood both obstructs the free circulation of air from a distance and furnishes exhalations of its own. If, on the other hand, a locality is visited daily by fresh breezes, as we have in that temple of the winds‑Edinburgh, the hnmediate entourage is of less consequence, because then the air comes freely from a distance, and the general nature of the country is more influential on the climate of all its parts. Now, in Belgium, stiff breezes, such as we have, are rare, and trees abound; hence, from there being no rapid renewal of air, each province seems to have its own peculiar climate, in a more decided sense than different districts of our own country. It is true that, for ten days past, we have had moderate breezes in plenty, and, in consequence, every one is wondering where the wind comes from, and why

264	REMARKS ON THE CLIMATE OF BELGIUM.

it is so cold. On the above principle, the masses of trees round Laeken cannot fail to affect its healthiness, notwithstanding the beauty of their appearance. If they do not attract or exhale moisture in abundance, although in an invisible form, how does it happen, that when trees are cut down, springs diminish or disappear, and wells dry up, where previously water never failed ? To my eyes, the rounded form and lymphatic constitutions of the northern and western Belgians betoken humidity of climate ; and as to mental vivacity, how far are they behind the French, who live in a drier and healthier atmosphere! Go into the market of a morning, when it is crowded in every corner and dispatch is pre‑eminently required, you find the same slow, goodnatured, and immoveable countenances, as if there was nobody present but yourself, and you had half the day to devote to purchasing a halfpenny worth of cabbage. Compare that with the active bustle and impatience of the French, and still more of the 1\ eapolitans, and the difference will be palpable enough. The Belgians, be it observed, do not want brains. They have more than the French; but then they require to be galvanised like the frog, to make them jump ; whereas the brains of the French work so fast, that they require a safety‑valve and a regùlator to make them useful."

Ile continues the subject in a letter to Dr Clark, dated Brussels, 26th July 1836 :—

	" The king," says he, " comes positively on Monday evening; and as
my friend Mr Burn Murdoch, of Coldoch and Gartincaber, came here
on Friday last, and he has great experience both in wood and draining,
I carried him out to Laeken on Saturday, and asked him to give me his
ideas in writing on the subject of its improvement. He set about it in
the most business‑like manner, striding through marsh and water,
to ascertain levels, &c., to the great wonder of	why the man
should deliberately walk into a morass which he could see from the
gravel‑walk at a distance. Mr M.'s property adjoins the famous
Blair‑Drummond Moss, which, by draining and removing the peats,
has been converted into capital arable land. Ile says the level park
may be thoroughly drained and rendered dry, and that there is a vast
quantity of useless underwood, which serves only to generate damp, and
hurt the other trees; and that many of the, latter ought to be cut down
for the benefit of their neighbours, as well as for human health."

Dr Combe wrote a letter to the King, embodying the foregoing and various other suggestions relative to the

LEAVES BRUSSELS.

265

health of the Royal Family; and, among other prophylactic measures, recommended that a residence should be provided in one of the southern provinces of Belgium, to which the children could be conveniently removed‑urging the advantages not only of the drier air, but of the mere change of locality, as conducive to health. Effect was given to these suggestions, by executing certain improvements on the grounds at Laeken, and the purchase of an estate about twenty‑four miles beyond Dinant, in a dry and healthy situation, for a summer retreat.
In a letter, dated Edinburgh, 8th August 1836, addressed to Mrs George Combe, he describes his departure from Brussels.

" Their Majesties returned on Thursday evening, the 28th. I saw the Queen on Friday; but the King was so very busy with affairs of state, that, after waiting for two hours, he found it in vain to detain me longer that day. On Saturday I had a long interview with him, when he was most kind and considerate, noticed that I was thinner, and not so strong; expressed great regret at my going, but said he could not ask me to remain. He hoped I would return, when able, and visit. them for a week or two at a time, and in the mean time allow him to apply to me by letter, &c. ; which was all extremely gratifying to me. The Queen also expressed herself very kindly, and sent after me to Antwerp a beautiful lithographic print of his Majesty, which she has just had executed in Paris, from a drawing taken when he was some years younger. I offered, if sufficiently recruited, to go over for a week about the end of October, at which time I may be of use in giving hints for their winter proceedings. The King said he would rejoice to see me then and at all times ; so that we parted on the very best terms. I have brought a small medallion likeness of him for you. It is in bronze, of the size of a crown‑piece, very like, but indifferent as a work of art.
" Mr and Mrs Burn Murdoch and three sons made their appearance in Brussels, and came home with us. I carried Nlr Al. to Laeken in one of the King's carriages, to inspect the grounds, and offer me suggestions about draining, thinning the wood, &c., which I urgently recommended to the King, to improve its healthiness. Mr M. took great pains with his survey; and, as I was attending one of his boys,

266

LEAVES BRUSSELS.

about whom he was alarmed, and he was thus very willing to oblige me as well as the King, he drew up a most business‑like report, which I submitted to his Majesty. The King wished to thank him in person, and told his secretary to desire me to bring him to the palace in town on Sunday last, at two o'clock. By a mistake he was not mentioned, and I appeared without him. The King was disappointed, and said he had still half an hour to spare, and if I could find him at his hotel, I must bring him yet. I found him in the street, in his travelling attire, and marched him off before he knew where he was. He made a profound reverence, and was very graciously received. The King talked about agriculture and soils with him, and alluded to peculiarities in both, which he had observed in Berwickshire, the Lothians, and Stirlingshire, eighteen years ago, and was quite accurate in his recollection. After a few minutes our friend once more found himself in the street, the whole affair having passed like a scene in a phantasmagoria, in which he had been looking on rather than acting.
" The Hereditary Prince of Coburg, for whom I prescribed also, gave me, at parting, three diamond studs, as an expression of respect; and the Lady of the Ambassador, a very handsome black cane, with an ivory head! We were becoming great friends (i. e., Sir George, and Lady Seymour, and I), when I came away. Sir George wondered at my improved appearance since he first saw me, and said that if I managed other people as well, I would be greatly missed among them.
" The King saw my testimonial‑* on Monday forenoon, just before I took leave. Mr Conway took it to him. He had never asked to see it, and I felt there would be an awkwardness in coming back to the subscribers with it unseen. It was much better as it turned out. He was left to form his own opinion of me, and when he did read it, it was with more interest. He told Mr Conway that the perusal only increased his regret that he was to lose me.
" I must reserve the rest till we meet. Antwerp is really and truly a city of great interest. We spent two clays there, and were delighted. I never before could conceive Rubens' superiority; now I can to the utmost."

Ile immediately went to the country to recruit. The

* This refers to a written testimonial, expressive of high esteem and personal regard, subscribed by the most eminent men in the medical and legal professions in Edinburgh, and presented to Dr Combe immediately before he left Edinburgh. It was intended as a certificate of his professional skill and moral worth.

VISITS DEANSTON SPIN NING‑TO ILLS.		267

following letter to his sister Margaret, dated Coldoch, near Stirling, 18th August 1836, describes the first excursion which he made after his return, and shews how unbroken his spirit always remained under every disappointment.

" I take the advantage of a rainy morning to let you know that I am alive and thriving. Yesterday we rode in to Deanston, and saw the mills and curiosities, and met there, by appointment, Mr‑ and Mr ‑,and, not by appointment, that venerable old nobleman, Lord Lynedoch, and that remnant of the old burgh system Mr Chamberlain ‑,and some ladies. I was astonished on seeing the enormous waterwheels revolving in all the solemnity and majesty of might. There are four of them, each 38 feet in diameter and 12 in breadth, and of 100 horse power; and two more are in progress. They are made of iron, and as neat and clean as new pins. The power‑looms are most remarkable instances of human ingenuity, and struck me very forcibly. They are placed in an extraordinarily large room, under one roof, consisting of arches supported on bellow iron pillars, which also serve the purpose of carrying off the water. I will not say what the dimensions of the room are, as you would, may be, not believe it. Wonderful to tell, the roof not only supports itself over this vast extent, but bears the addition of a load of earth sufficient to form a garden of equal size with the room itself. The whole mill is in fine order, and well ventilated; but still the confinement for so many hours in a close in‑door air, makes the people pale, and evidently impairs their stamina. Lord Lynedoch seemed to be much interested in what he saw, and is himself as interesting a spectacle as the big wheels and spinning‑jennies. He is upwards of eighty‑five, and frail, but evidently with a still active mind, and the remains of a robust body. Mirabile dicta, two carts suffice for the carriage of all the materials which employ 17.00 work‑people, and the wheels and spinningjennies to boot. I can scarcely believe it yet.
	" W e were all weighed in the Deanston machine. Mr
weighed 14 stone, Mr		142, and I 9 stone 4 lb. ! I have
thus lost half a stone within the last twelve months, I think it was;
and as I am now a good deal filled up from what I was six weeks
ago, I infer that I must have been more reduced in reality than I
was at the time aware of. I am better, however, even since I came
here, and ‘eat like a raven, and sleep like a dyke,' without fever or
mischief of any kind. My cough, also, is nearly gone."

268	LETTER TO MRS H. SIDDONS.

In a letter, dated Edinburgh, 29th August 1836, addressed to Mrs Henry Siddons, he writes thus:—

" To yourself and to Lady Byron I ought to have written long ago, but could not. Even after my return, although greatly better, I felt a greater aversion to exertion, and taking any part in‑other people's matters, than I have experienced for many a day; and I resolved, in consequence, to avoid business of every kind, and to live as a mere vegetable, in the open air and sunshine, till Providence should increase my powers, and fit me for some further usefulness. I have done so accordingly, and with decided advantage; but I still want a good deal to replace me where I was last autumn. By care, resignation, and patience, I hope to continue to recruit, and, at all events, I have the unspeakable satisfaction of bodily ease and mental tranquillity. I have suffered a good deal by my experiment, but I have not, and never had, a shadow of regret for having accepted the appointment. Had I retained my health, I saw a field of usefulness opening up to me, which would have much more than repaid me for any privation attending absence from home for a few years. Experience proved tome that I had not erred in the anticipation. But when health failed, and the prospect of its total loss within a year or two, if I remained, presented itself, there was no room for hesitation, and I decided to return. Had I declined without the trial, I would never have been satisfied that I had done right. Having made the trial, I am thoroughly at ease; and the mere loss of an honourable appointment is very soon got over when it cannot be helped. As it is, I have the comfort of believing, vainly perhaps, that my visit will not be without benefit to the Royal Family. The King told me, with apparent sincerity and feeling, that he regretted much my inability to remain, as he reposed entire confidence in me, morally and professionally, and felt, he might rather say, ‘ a positive affection for me: This is flattering tome, perhaps beyond what I ought to repeat: but it is not less honourable to him, and to his own truth of character; for I dealt with him as plainly and honestly as with any private patient I ever had, and differed from him quite as freely, where I thought he was wrong. I felt from the first that there was integrity and good sense to rely upon, whatever difference there might be between our opinions, and that even in point of expediency (were so poor a principle to be recognised as a guide), plain and straightforward dealing would be best and most successful with him."

He revisited Brussels in November, and in a letter

REVISITS BRUSSELS.

269

tMiss Cox, dated the 22d of that mouth, he describes
o L his reception by the Royal Family:—

" On Sunday, at half‑past ten, I was introduced to his Majesty at Laeken. He received me with much kindness, said I ‘ came like an apparition, but a welcome one,' and then took me to the Queen, who also was very kind. I was delighted to see them so well, and most thankful that no advice was required for immediate use. I next proceeded to the garden, and found Monseigneur the little Prince at work with his spade. On my approach he looked fixedly at me for a moment, and then nodded half‑a‑dozen times, smiling as he did so, and holding out his hand. At his age, nineteen months, I did not expect that he would recognise me after the lapse of nearly four months. It gladdened my heart to see him grown stout and healthylooking. Indeed, I have had an ample reward for all my trouble in coming, in the gratification of seeing every thing going on so well; and, what to my nature is the most pleasing of all expressions of approbation, most of my suggestions left in writing have been acted upon, and the new doctor concurs so thoroughly in their propriety, that no difficulty arises on that score. As regards the future, my present visit will not be lost. I get acquainted with Dr Rieken and his views, and can afterwards correspond with him more efficiently, if need be. All this, then, is very well, and so let it remain.

" That very sagacious personage, ‘ every body,' says I have come back an altered, or rather ‘ a new man,' and marvels much at the change, adding, that now I am so well, surely I will never think of leaving Brussels a second time. My reply to every body is, that, true, I am a new man, but that the ‘ Satanic logic' which has made me so, teaches me farther, that if I do not wish again to be converted into the coughing good‑for‑nothing ‘ old' man I was, I should bid them adieu in a very short time, as by staying I should be sure to become the ‘ reformed transformed ;' and this view poses ‘ every body.' Their Majesties, too, congratulated me on my renovation, but were so considerately kind (for it was true kindness), as not to ask me to remain."

In a letter to his brother, dated Brussels, 24th November 1836, he says:—

" It was arranged that I should leave this on Saturday, and be with you all on Saturday, 3d December; but to‑day it has been proposed that I should accompany Mr Conway (the King's Private Secre‑

2%O	VISITS THE KING'S CHATEAU NEAR DINANT.

tary) on Monday to Dinant, in the province of Namur, to inspect a chateau and property which his Majesty thinks of purchasing for the benefit of a change of air in summer ; and as its value depends on its suitableness and salubrity, I am as anxious to see the locality before it be too late, as one so deeply interested in the Royal Family can well be. This will make me remain a week longer."

He gives an account of this journey in the following letter, dated Brussels, 2d December 1836, addressed to his sister Margaret:—

“I shall leave this to‑morrow for Antwerp, where I am to take leave of the King, and embark on Sunday morning.
" We have had a tempesta stravayante of wind, which would have done honour to Edinburgh, and of rain, which would have been worthy of any tropical region in which rain falls by the puncheon instead of by the drop. Many trees have been blown down in the Park opposite my windows, houses have been unroofed, and chimneys demolished in a style very unusual hero. The magnificent spire of the Hotel de Ville vibrated like an aspen leaf, and threatened to shower its sculptured beauties on the people's heads, notwithstanding the entreaties of the big St Michel on the top of it, who quivered with fright at the thought of the tumble he and his flaming sword would have before they reached the ground. Fortunately the wind took pity on him, and allowed him to stand. Never was anything seen like it in the memory of that remarkable personage, ‘the oldest inhabitant.'
" If you are acquainted with our friend Corporal Trim, the attached follower of his master in Tristram Shandy, you will know at once where I have been, when I add, that we slept one night at Namur, where the said Corporal received his wound ; bat strange to say, the Namur people have no recollection of the event, and as little of the Corporal, which shows what benefit they have derived from the study of the literce hunaaniores! We thence ascended fifteen miles to Dinant, the road winding beautifully all the way by the side of the Meuse, with precipitous rooks on one side, and green hills occasionally peeping in on the other. We journeyed nine miles farther in the dark, and saw nothing but the wind, the clouds, and the stars, and landed in a chateau, where we spent the night; but the howling wind drove the rain into my room so abundantly, as to form a pretty little pond in the middle, well adapted for skating on, if it had been big enough and frozen. The temperature, however, was very high, and the nearest ice seemed at least a month distant.

RETURNS TO EDINBURGH.

2'71

" I am in an awfully depressed state of mind, from finding all my efforts to see the lovely Miss rendered unavailing by the dear papa never being at home when I call. If I had recollected, I might have taken a romantic leap from a Namur rock, and relieved my mind ; but I forgot till too late, and now it is not worth while. I therefore went and talked philosophy and education with Dar Wyse, statistics with 1WT. Quetelet, gossip with his amiable wife, flirtation with the beautiful Misses , radicalism with Dr , politics with Mr Conway, great people with Mademoiselle , &c. &c., and succeeded in banishing the lovely image of the lovely Miss ‑from my brains ! Marie declares, I am as much changed in my appearance as a silver sixpence is when turned into a gold sovereign. When I took leave of the Queen to‑day, her Majesty also paid me a similar compliment."

His bad luck in sea‑voyages again pursued him on
his return. In a letter to bliss Cox, dated London, 9th IDecember 1836, he writes:—

" I think I hear you wondering what has become of me, and expressing a wise resolution never to let me out of your sight again, ex‑

cept, perhaps, on a voyage in spring to China, or the whale‑fishery. You know well you make me do what you like; and if I am buffeted about for five days at a time in a mare stravayante, at the mercy of the winds and waves, in fu~fiLLing yoem~ wishes, I must just submit, and thank Providence for not drowning me. We loft Antwerp on Sunday morning, in a gale that blew us against the pier with such force, that it required an hour‑and‑a‑half's hard work to detach us from it; and after three hours more of steaming amidst wreck and r uin, we were obliged to drop anchor, and be thankful we had a snug corner in which to lie in safety. On Monday it blew a little less, and off we went, and got as far as Flushing, when again ‘ the wind blew as 't wad blawn its last,' and ‘ the rattling showers rose on the blast,' with such terrific energy, that we were on the eve of turning tail and running back, when the Victoria from London made her appearance, and made a signal to us not to attempt a passage, but to run back to the anchorage ground, three miles up the river ;which we did. There we lay two days with plenty of company. The Rotterdam and Dunkirk boat, after beating about for a week, dropped down beside us; and three miles off lay the large Hamburgh steamer, the Chieftain, a perfect wreck, after having been driven from Lowestoff to Ostend, and then into the Scheldt. At the first turn from Antwerp, a mast stuck up through the water. It ‘vas a vessel which went down three days before. Next we came to

272	DEDICATION TO KING LEOPOLD.

a fine new brig, Leopold I., stranded and damaged, and then to a complete wreck. But, in the midst of these marks of ruin and devastation, it was amusing to hear our captain and people talking so innocently, with their mouths half full, as if it no way concerned them. However, not to trouble you with disagreeables now past and forgotten, I may just say, that we arrived safe at 7 P.m., last night, nothing the worse ; and to‑day, at the custom‑house, I am told that eleven fôreign and other steamers are not yet forthcoming. We left our anchorage on Wednesday at 9 A.m., and had a long and rough road to come.
" I have not suffered, Dieu merci; but although I joked about my cold, it was really no joke. My ribs were literally sore to the touch with coughing, and my breath half gone. During the first bad night of it, I was like ‘ a birstded pea stotting in a frying‑pan,' with its violence. I was in good spirits notwithstanding, because I saw and felt that I had done some good; and that many of my suggestions had been acted on, and with the results I anticipated to all parties. As I said before, no compliment is so grateful to me as people acting on what is laid before them. I told the Queen that I had to thank her personally, for so kindly sending me the print of his Majesty, and that it gave me much pleasure. She answered, in her pretty and sincere tone, ‘ I am glad of it. I thought it would give you pleasure. I am always very happy to do cony thing which can give you pleasure. I assure you, we feel very grateful for all your goodness.' On several occasions afterwards she thanked me for coming, as did his Majesty; and the kind, sincere tone of both was very gratifying to me : but I must not repeat any more of their expressions of satisfaction.
" My experience of Brussels was greatly confirmed by this expedition. I am positive I could not retain my health three mouths in it. I began to feel the evil influence before I left for Dinant."

The King of the Belgians having in this handsome manner expressed his appreciation of Dr Combe's merits, and constituted him his consulting physician, Dr C. dedicated his work on " The Principles of Physiology applied to the Preservation of Health," &e., to his Majesty in the following terms:—

" SIRE,‑In consenting to ascend the throne, to which you were called by the fervent prayer of the Belgian people, your Majesty was graciously pleased to declare, that, having from early life been placed in many diffi‑

DEDICATION TO KING LEOPOLD.		2

cult and trying situations, you had long learned to value power only as a means of advancing the solid and lasting happiness of your fellow‑creatures. How nobly your Majesty has redeemed the pledge implied in this generous assurance, the tranquillity, security, and increasing prosperity of your Majesty's adopted country proclaim in language which it requires not the aid of individual testimony to confirm; and I venture to refer to it only because your Majesty's gracious permission to dedicate to you a work having for its aim the prevention and alleviation of human suffering is but another proof of the sincerity of the feeling by which it was dictated, and of the deep interest which your Majesty takes in everything connected with the welfare and improvement of mankind.
1’ As every amelioration of the physical condition of the people conduces not less to their advancement in intelligence and good conduct than to their bodily comfort, I am inclined to hope that, even in a moral point of view, some good may be effected by the present exposition of the more ii nportant laws of the animal economy, and of the numerous practical advantages to be expected from their regular and adequate fulfilment.
" While thus laying my little work before your Majesty as a sincere though humble tribute of respect and admiration, may I be farther permitted to express my profound gratitude for the condescending goodness with which you have been pleased to receive my imperfect services, as well as for the professional confidence with which your Majesty continues to honour me."
The correspondence now shews, that this dedication was not an empty compliment, but the expression of a high estimation of the character, and a sincere gratitude for the kindness of the King.

274

LETTER. TO DR CLARK.

The following letter, dated 30th September 1836, addressed to Dr Clark, gives an account of the origin of Dr Combe's works, and of his habits of composition :—

" If I have any credit at all in keeping well with an imperfeçt pair of bellows to preserve the flame alive, it is simply in at once and without scruple sacrificing everything, great or small, to health; and truly I have my reward in no despicable degree of active enjoyment amidst all my frailties. You need not then fear my hurting myself with writing‑and, by the way, you amuse me by envying my facility in writing ! Know, then, that many a time and oft I have envied you in this respect. I have no such facility in composing, especially since my infirm health. Witness the fact that my review of your book took me upwards of three weeks, laying aside all other composition; and such is the proportion of time to all other subjects, even though I am familiar with them. You have probably formed this notion from my book on Digestion having appeared in about. a year from its announcement. But, in reality, it and my former volume are the work of years. 8o long ago as 1824 I had begun to write the latter, and threw it aside in despair of making it intelligible. It happened, however, that from an early period I had many consultations and advices to give in writing to patients who lived much in the country, or who called for me while passing a short time in Edinburgh, and also to strangers whom I never saw. For the sake of easy reference, as well as to preserve a record, I at last got a copying machine, and for six years past have taken a copy by it of all my business letters; and thus there is scarcely a remark in my whole writings that has not, directly or indirectly, come out of that correspondence, and consequently out of actual observation; and it is this practical quality, I believe, which makes my writings interest so many readers. Here, too, you will observe I have materials for writing which save me much trouble; and it was only from the frequent assurances of my correspondents, that what I said was level to their comprehensions, and of much interest to their minds, that at length I ventured to prepare and publish the first volume. Dr Conolly, therefore, is not altogether correct in supposing that the latter work is the offspring of the first. Its actual preparation was, but not the material. Much of the second part is taken from my letters. You may even remember my declining to write for the Cyclopxdia some years ago, on account of the difficulty and imperfect results of my labours, which plea was perfectly sincere."

In the midst of all these interruptions from bad

PUBLISHES HIS PHYSIOLOGY OF DIGESTION.

health and important business, Dr Combe found time to complete and publish his work on “The Physiology of Digestion, considered with relation to the Principles of Dietetics," of which the 9th edition, “ edited, and adapted to the present state of Physiological and Chemical Science," by his nephew, James Cox, M.D., appeared in 1849. In Chapter VIII. of that work, he mentions very clearly the characteristic feature which distinguishes it from other treatises on Digestion :—

" From the preceding exposition of the structure and functions of the organs concerned in chymification, it will be evident to the reflecting reader, that although the kind or quality of the food materially increases or diminishes the facility with which it is acted upon by the gastric juice, this is by no means the only circumstance affecting the result, but, contrary to the popular opinion, the strictest adherence to any prescribed form of diet will prove of comparatively little service in warding off indigestion, especially in persons predisposed to its attacks, unless the other equally influential circumstances by which digestion is promoted or retarded be also carefully attended to. So completely is this proposition borne out by experience, that examples are to be met with every day, where the same food which is digested with ease when the other physiological laws are attended to, remains for hours in the stomach undigested when they are infringed or neglected.
" So far, however, from this great principle being generally recognised and acted upon in practice, the proper quality of the food has hitherto been almost universally regarded as the chief, if not the only requisite, for the enjoyment of healthy digestion. Fence, while medical men are constantly questioned, whether this or that article of diet is good or bad for the stomach, curiosity rarely, if ever, extends so far as to inquire, whether Nature has annexed to sound digestion any other conditions, which also it may be expedient to know and to observe. The consequence has been, that, while numerous works have appeared, descriptive of the natural history and properties of alimentary substances, none, so far as I am aware, has systematically directed attention to the importance of a better acquaintance with, and more habitual observance of, those other circumstances by which digestion is so powerfully influenced. This omission is the more to be regretted, because the physiological conditions of digestion exert. such an extensive influence over the assimilative and nutritive pro‑

276

LUNATIC ASYLUMS.

cesses, that the subject of Dietetics cannot be fully understood or appreciated, without carefully studying their mode of action, and directing attention to their practical consequences. And I feel assured that, ere long, no treatise on Diet will be considered complete which does not assign them that prominent. place to which their relative importance so clearly entitles them.
" Influenced by these considerations, and by the fact, that, in many excellent works already existing, the constitution and properties of all the alimentary substances in common use are examined and described in ample detail, I have not hesitated to forsake the beaten path, and to dedicate these pages chiefly to the elucidation of the more neglected, but, practically, not less important department of the inquiry; and with this view, I have, in the preceding chapters, entered more into detail regarding the nature and laws of digestion, than I should otherwise have thought advisable in a work intended for the unprofessional reader. This course farther seemed to be necessary, because I could not otherwise hope to carry along with me the conviction of the reader, that, in so far as the practical rules or principles deduced from these laws are correct interpretations of nature, they are, in reality, expressions of the will and design of the beneficent Creator, who instituted them for our advantage, and has given us a direct interest in discovering and conforming to them."

Having been sounded on the subject of his writing a Treatise on " Physical Education' for Messrs W. and R. Chambers, he wrote to Miss Cox from Brussels as follows:—

" I find by experience that I write best, and by far most agreeably, when I am not fettered by‑another person's design or time. Not having a versatile mind, I felt the review which I wrote for Dr Forbes' Journal ~ rather a heavy undertaking ; and I am convinced that I shall serve my fellow‑men and myself best, by executing only my own plans. If I could do it, there is no man I would help sooner than Robert Chambers. He is engaged in an admirable cause."

In 1836 Dr Combe visited a number of lunatic asylums, with a view to finding a suitable ‑retreat for a patient under his care; and he describes their condition

* Review of Sir James Clark's " Treatise on Pulmonary Consumption;" Br. and For. :Vied. Rev., No. 1, p. 70, January 1836.

LUNATIC ASYLUMS.

27 7

in the following letter addressed to his brother George. As the institutions alluded to have been improved, and their administrators changed, since the letter was written, it forms a record of the past, rather than a picture of the present:—

	" The result of my visits to several lunatic asylums has been com
	pletely to satisfy me that what I have said all along is true, viz., that
though 		's is bad, it is upon the whole ‘ the best of the bad.'
	in locality and physical arrangements is unexceptionable and
enlivening ; but the superintendent is a rough‑spun person, of con
siderable good nature and a decided talent for cricket. The physi
cian is a sensible, kind man, but with a strong dash of the four‑footed
animal, and not much refinement. In ‑‑the physical arrange
ments are very good, though inferior to ‑‑, but ‑		turns
out to be a very second‑rate, Love‑of‑Approbation‑aud‑lymphatic
personage, imbued with little real philanthropy or interest in his
patients, and as little knowledge. He is kindly disposed, but not
actively benevolent, and there is a vast difference between the two.
He seems to call himself a phrenologist, and yet he told me that no
one in his situation could apply Phrenology to practice unless directed
and sanctioned by the physician ; as if the whole moral treatment
was not utterly independent of the latter. He asked me to come back
and examine some heads of patients ‘to test Phrenology;' and when
I agreed, I wrote to him explaining the real object of such examina
tion, and the class of patients to which alone it is applicable, viz.,
monomaniacs, and begged that he would select only such cases, and
note their peculiarities. 'So little did he comprehend this, that he
brought in cases of general mania, and even one or two ‘silly‑minded,'
and requested me to point out the feature on which they were de
ranged ! When, in return, I asked whether the general manifestations
or character corresponded with or differed from their predominant
organs, he could not answer. He was so ignorant of their history and
present manifestations, that he could not say whether they agreed or
not ! I begged of him to make inquiries on this point, and let me
know; and I left my notes with him as a guide to him in his inquiry.
His account of eight patients since sent to me occupies about twenty
lines of wide writing. One is ‘ a clever tradesman,' another ‘ a nice
looking young man,' a third is ‘silly‑minded,' and so on. If he asso
ciated at all with his patients, except when acting as showman, such
disgraceful ignorance could not have occurred. When I found how
things stood, I declined examining any more.

278

LUNATIC ASYLUMS.

" With Mr Browne the result was very different.	He knew every
	feeling and peculiarity of every patient, and was evidently on the best
terms with them all.	They smiled when he approached, and showed
	unequivocally that in private more than in public his benevolence
bad been actively exercised in promoting their happiness.	I per
	ceived a great difference to the better in their general expression
	within the last two years ; their features betokened activity of mind
and feeling, where dull moroseness was seated before.	In the phy
sical arrangements he has also improved as far as was possible.	His
yearly ‘ Report' puts the one to shame.	The one is the off
	spring of an enlightened and superior mind, intent on fulfilling an
	important mission. The other is the feeble ‘ effort' of a vain ostenta
	tion, proud of itself, and seeking the applause of others‑the main
object, the welfare of the patients, holds a second place.	It is truly
	gratifying to witness the success of Phrenology in Browne's hands." .

The history of the year 1836 may properly be closed by an account given by Dr Combe himself, in a letter to a friend, of his pecuniary resources during the years 1835 and 1836. The letter is dated Brussels, 19th May 1836

" I am much gratified," says he, " to know that ‑ 	is re‑
covered. Do not be uneasy at your unexpected deficit as regards him.
My brother and some of my kindred are willing to help him, and as
I am now becoming ‘ desperately rich,' it will give me real pleasure
to turn a portion to such a good purpose. Last year, with practice,
books, and other sources of emolument, I must have received the best
part of £1000 ; and this year there is every probability of my gains
coming nearer £1200; so that I can look to the evil day, and also spare
something for him when he needs it. With an unbroken constitution
I might have done more ; but it is, or ought to be, a first object with
every one to bear his own burden, and not throw it on the shoulders,
of his neighbours so long as he can carry it himself ; and, therefore,
I look to my own probable future."

CLIMATE FOR AN INVALID 1N SPRING.		279

CHAPTER XVII.

CLIMATE FOR AN INVALID IN SPRING.‑ LETTER TO AIR W. A. F. BROWNE, ON ISIS WORK ON LUNATIC ASYLUMS.‑ADVANTAGES OF THE RE‑

SPIRATOR.‑EFFECTS OF INORDINATE LOVE OF APPROBATION.‑

ADVICE IN A CASE OF MENTAL DEPRESSION.‑EFFECTS OF IMPAIRED RESPIRATION.‑THE DOMESTIC CIRCLE AT COUL.‑LECTURES ON

I'IIRENOLOGY.‑LETTER TO MISS SEDGWICK OF NEW YORK.‑HIS " DIGESTION" TRANSLATED INTO GERMAN.‑STATE OF THE A1ANU‑

FACTURING POPULATION OF ENGLAND.‑HOW TO MEET UNAVOIDABLE EVILS.

IN the beginning of 1837, Dr Combo resumed his professional practice, and extended his efforts in proportion to his strength. To a patient who had consulted him on the best

CLIMATE FOR AN INVALID IN SPRING,

He writes as follows:—

" For a spring residence (during March and April) I do not know that I can recommend any situation preferable to the country about Bristol or Clifton. I know no place in Italy or France, where the east winds in spring are not bitterly felt by invalids, and where, from the great contrast between a hot sun and cold shade, the invalid can escape mischief, without constant and prudent caution. Taking the houses, living, and climate together, I conceive nine out of ten invalids would profit more by passing the spring in the west of England, selecting localities where the soil is* dry and the air pare, the situation sheltered, and the east wind modified as much as an past wind '',11I he (for bad it is at the best), than by spending it at Nice, Rome,

280	LETTER TO w T. A. F. BROWNE, ES(Z.

or any other southern city. I have spent three winters in the south, and each time have returned with an increased conviction that I should have been better at home, if I had not been quite accustomed to continental houses and modes of life before I became ill."

On the 28th of January 183'7, he wrote the following letter to Mr W. A. F. Browne, then of Montrose, who had requested him to revise some sheets of his work entitled, " What Asylums were, are, and ought to be? being the substance of Five Lectures delivered before the Managers of the Montrose Royal Lunatic Asylum."‑

" The remarks which you quote from p. 236 of my work on Derangement, need not at all discourage you in your present course. They were aimed chiefly against long descriptions of ;the many manifestations observable in individual cases, and incidentally against the confounding of symptoms with the disease; and more with a view to medical treatment than to the moral. We are agreed that different groups of mental symptoms may characterise the same morbid state of DIFFERENT PARTS of the brain,‑or, in other words, the same disease in DIFFERENT PARTS ; and we are also agreed that excitement of Self‑Esteem, for instance, or, in other words, the same group of mental symptoms, may attend what, for want of a better name, we may call nervous excitement of the organs, requiring sedatives for its cure ; and also vascular excitement, requiring bleeding, &e. If you make the reader fully aware of this, I have no objection to a classification such as you give for the purposes of moral treatment; because such a classification is simple and necessary, and very different from the specimen I gave from Dr Mason Good, who, in common with other writers, often makes a division where, in reality, it is the same faculties which are concerned. At iii., p.14, you notice the facility with which all the cases may be reduced to ten or twelve heads. At the bottom of page 237 in my book, you will find the same remark made as a reason for not entering into long details of symptoms. On this head, then, there is less difference between us than you imagine.
" There is one point, however, on which I would add a word or two. I am not aware whether you intend to introduce Phrenology openly as your guide in the investigation and treatment of insanity. In the first sheet there is no allusion to it, and it therefore seems possible that you do not mean to notice it. If you really do not, I would strongly advise a contrary course, as clue both to the cause of truth and to your‑

ON IIIS WORK ON LUNATIC ASYLUMS.		281

self. Still it seems to me so improbable that you should omit it, that I cannot think it necessary to enter into the reasons here. With ‑‑'s tactics in this respect I have always been dissatisfied; and, before he did it, I remonstrated with him in vain. It is true, present popularity is gained ; but my conviction is, that truth is retarded in the long‑run, and Phrenology itself thrown into the background, branded with the stamp of folly by those who never suspect that what they read is Phrenology. Not a month ago I read a highly laudatory review of a work, the principles and scope of which were strongly recommended, and held out as a contrast to the ravings of phrenologists and the pretensions of Phrenology, and especially to the wild and dangerous doctrines in the ‘ Constitution of Man ;' when, in point of fact, the principles thus lauded were taken from the phrenologists, many from my brother and many from myself ! Thus, while the fruit is admired and cherished, the tree is cast into the furnace as fit only to be burned up. I also was strongly advised by many friends to dress up my book on Derangement in ordinary language, and make no reference to Phrenology, and I was satisfied that I could thereby have produced a more saleable and popular work; but convinced that the doing so would be dishonest, and in the end defeat its own purpose and retard the advance of truth, I declined acting on the advice."

Mr Browne proved the sincerity of his conviction of the importance of Phrenology in the treatment of the insane, by dedicating his work to Dr Combe in the following terms :—“ Dedicated, with sincere respect anal gratitude, to Andrew Combe, M.D., &c., as an acknowledgment of the benefits conferred on society by his exposition of the application of Phrenology in the treatment of insanity and nervous diseases ; and of private benefits conferred, as the most enlightened preceptor, the most disinterested adviser, and the kindest friend, of the Author."
In the following letter to Dr Clark, dated Edinburgh, 10th February 1831, Dr Combe adverts to the

ADVANTAGES OF THE RESPIRATOR.

" I duly received yours of 29th January, and the pamphlets about. the respirator. The latter interests me mach ; and, particularly, as I was contriving a similar instrument some months ago out of safetylamp gauze, but had not mechanical skill enough to manage the thing Properly. I am sure it will be useful, and if Mr Jeffreys will send

281,	ADVANTAGES OF THE RESPIRATOR.

clown a few for sale, I shall willingly notice and recommend them in the Scotsman. If he prefers a druggist to a cutler, he might send them with great safety to Duncan and Flockhart, North Bridge New Buildings.
" You ask about the influenza and my health, and recommend confinement till it be over. I have, however, followed the opposite course as the safest, and never remained a single day without exercise in the open air, carefully managed, of course, but never interrupted; and I have escaped remarkably. Moreover, all my numerous kindred and immediate friends whom I could influence, have followed the same plan, and only one has had an attack, and it arose from his choosing to work all day and take his exercise on the Glasgow road at ten o'clock at night ! Of those much or wholly confined to the house, scarcely one has escaped ; and the mortality for January has been about 370 above the average. The more I see, the more faith I have in a rational mode of life preserving health and restoring strength, even under very unpromising circumstances; and I have one striking example now before me of a lady who, by her mode of life, was every year becoming more delicate, susceptible of cold, of bilious fever, and of nervous anxiety and depression, so that great part of every winter she was confined to the house by cold or other illness in constant succession. In autumn, I accidentally saw a good deal of her habits, and, after satisfying myself by continued observations in silence (for she was not my patient), I at last gave her a very forcible exposition of her errors, and urged upon her a total change as her only chance of escaping continued suffering. An impression was made ; a considerable, but not complete, reformation was begun, but., on her part, almost without hope. Four months have now elapsed, and she has not had one day's sickness, or one day's confinement; and, instead of walking the length of the street with effort, I lately met her returning with active vigour from a walk of six miles. In my own instance, I find my only safety lies in keeping up the tone of the general health. If that goes down, I go down too. But, as I said before, I do everything prudently, and avoid risk and needless exposure."

In a letter dated 26th February 183'7, addressed to a friend who had consulted him about the natural dispositions of a youth in whom he was interested, he gives a description of the

EFFECT' OF INORDINATE LOVE OF APPROBATION.

" Unfortunately, Love of Approbation in him takes the direction of personal vanity, instead of higher ohjects ; and hones, at any given

EFFECTS OIL' INORDINATE LOVE OF APPROBATION. 283

moment, you can change the whole aspect of his character according as you gratify or disturb his Love of Approbation. Flatter his personal vanity, allow him to boast of his feats, and of the great things he intends to do when a great man, to ridicule those who pursue different objects or in a different way from himself, and let him imagine that you concur in admiring his wonderful doings, and in an instant you will have him in the full flow of openness, good humour, and folly. But hint. seriously that such exhibitions are manifestations of empty vanity, that those he ridicules are more worthy of praise than himself, and that his boastings are childish and unworthy of his years, the scene instantly changes, and a cloud of dissatisfaction comes over him and continues till he thinks he may resume his favourite themes. From Self‑Esteem not being in due proportion to Love of Approbation, there is a deficient sense of dignity ; a willingness to pick up crumbs of approbation even at the hands of little schoolboys much younger than himself, and a want of that sober‑minded reliance on his own powers which would make him care less for the wavering opinions of his companions. It is true that he does not care for all kinds of approbation, and thus seems sometimes callous to its influence. This, however, is merely because he values only that kind which his limited faculties comprehend. He cares not for approval in scientific pursuits, because he neither understands nor esteems them; and, to make approval be felt, it must come from a quarter which is looked up to for some reason or other. My Love of Approbation may, for example, make me wish to be held as a good doctor or an honest man, because I understand what these qualities are, and value them ; but it may be very indifferent although a herald were sent to proclaim at the cross that I am a bad painter or an indifferent mathematician. In the same way would be very easy under a charge of inferiority in science, but he would be greatly disturbed at any charge of much less consequence that happened to touch his personal vanity. It is this which makes it often difficult to distinguish the workings of Love of Approbation from those of Self‑Esteem; and yet, on reflection, it is seen that they obviously spring from distinct sources. Love of Approbation lays a man open to every wind that Mows; and hence it is a never‑ending source of caprice, and of an amiability with strangers which is often laid aside at home, the faculty not thinking it worth the trouble to please home‑folks."

The patient to whom the following letters are addressed, had been bred to business in Scotland, and afterwards appointed to a public office in the south of

284	ADVICE IN A CASE OF MENTAL DEPRESSION.

England; but from over‑exertion and other causes, he had fallen into a state of

MENTAL DEPRESSION,

and contemplated the resignation of his office. Dr Combe, who took a friendly interest in him, wrote to him on the 2d of March 1837, as follows :—

	" I have just received your letter of yesterday, and am much dis
tressed at its contents.	That in your present state of mind and body
	you should feel worried to death and disgusted with a multiplicity of
	objects pressing upon you, is so very natural that I am only surprised
	that you, with all your knowledge of the human constitution, should
	seem to have expected to feel the contrary sensations of comfort and
	contentment from the first moment of entering upon your new duties.
You know well, that before you went to	at all, your brain
	was lowered in vigour by long over‑exertion ; that when you returned,
	you exhausted it still more by extra labour and convivialities ; that,
	after a short refreshment during your voyage, you felt more able, and
	took a cheerful view of your situation ; that you then once more en.
	tered upon an amount of exertion which nothing short of a cast
	iron brain could stand uninjured; and when the natural, the unavoid
	able result follows‑when your spirit flags and every thought is a
	burden,‑instead of making a practical use of your knowledge, in
	stead of labouring through the present week or two of evil, and wait
	ing for the comparative rest consequent on familiarity with your du
	ties, you throw aside every advantage which your philosophy ought
	to provide, and, acting on present feeling unguided by sound judg
	ment, propose to renounce at once a situation which, judging from
	your own letters, still seems one peculiarly fitted for your faculties.
I need not say that I deeply regret this precipitation.	Not for one
	moment would I wish to see you fixed in any employment inconsistent
	with your happiness, however useful your being in it might be to
others.	But when I see in your whole manifestations concurrent
	proofs, not of your unfitness for the duties, nor of their real discord
	ance with your powers, but simply and purely of a morbid state of the
	nervous system, which a little time and patience would soon remove,
	I cannot but lament, for your own sake, that you should so readily
	give way to a temporary aberration, and attribute to small Combative
	ness and Hope what is so clearly ascribable to a totally different and
much less abiding cause.	I endeavoured to enforce upon you before,
	the fact that you are incapable of judging of your own true state, and

ADVICE IN A CASE OF MENTAL DEPRESSION.		285

that you ought to place yourself in the hands of those who know from experience what your condition is, and by what means you may be extricated from it. Under a similar temporary affliction, ‑ would scarcely rest a day till his villa should be sold for sixpence, pulled down, or thrown into the sea ; and he ridiculed the notion that the cause of his misery was in his own brain and not in his innocent property. Almost on compulsion he agreed to use the means pointed out for three months, before acting on his own notion. Before the end of that time, he was in utter amazement at his folly, and was discussing good roasts of beef and bottles of claret in the very house the existence of which had previously made him wish himself under the clod. In your instance, time would bring about a similar change. You once were active and punctual in business, and remarkable for an easy grasp of details. Your health, but not your nature, is changed. Give your brain a little time and fair play, and your former capacity will return in improved vigour. You yourself testify that none of your details are such as to excite anxiety, or give just cause for ‘ blue devilism.' Then why act so hastily, and risk a permanent damage to yourself on account of a fleeting evil? Even in the best health, the sudden entrance upon new duties is felt to be laborious and irksome, although a month's practice generally makes them almost matters of routine. Physiology tells you why, and shews that in suffering at first, you merely undergo a general law. If, therefore, you have not actually resigned, I would beg of you not to do so immediately. If you have given in your resignation before this reaches you, you should still beg of your superiors not to act upon it till I see you. State, which you may truly, that you felt disordered in health, by excessive exertion previous to leaving Scotland, and by its continuance since your arrival in ‑‑‑, and that thus dispirited you resigned; but that, being assured that with a little time you would recover your fitness, you are desirous to be allowed to try. I will go to you immediately, and see what your state and duties are'; and if I can do any good, I will stay with you till you have experience to some small extent to guide your judgment."

Dr Combe accordingly visited his patient in England, and having become satisfied that the view which he had taken of the case was correct, he again wrote to him as follows:—

" EDINBURGH, 12th march, 1837.
" I arrived here safely on Friday evening at 8 P.M., and my object ill writing to you now is simply to encourage you to persevere in well‑

286	ADVICE IN A CASE OF MENTAL DEPRESSION.

doing, and to set the ‘blue devils' at defiance. In a little time your mind and feelings will regain their tone, and you will wonder that they should ever have been discomposed by your present impressions. It is true that you will occasionally have periods of depression, in which your morbid views will make an inroad upon your peace; but by perseverance and rational care, these will become both fewer and less intense, while every attack fairly resisted and passed over, makes the future victory more easy and certain. I need not urge upon you the fact, that it is your bodily and mental state, and not your external situation, which requires a remedy. If you were free from your office at this moment, you would still be a sufferer, and your pains would soon be aggravated by the consciousness of having committed a weakness in deserting your post. Your mental discomfort would take merely another shape, but would not on that account be cured. Horace noted this of old, when he said so pithily,‑‘ Ceelum, non animum, mutant, qui trans mare currunt.' Take counsel, then, of all past experience, and of those who know your true situation, and you will live to rejoice that you did so. If you were left at this moment without some imperative employment, the means of restoration would be greatly diminished; and a situation more devoid of anxiety and better fitted for your condition, you could not possibly have. Neither must you allow your imagination to suppose you unfit for details; for it is notorious that your forte when in health lay in details, and a better remedy for your present exhausted state cannot be devised than is implied in attention to the ordinary matters of your office. If, my dear Sir, you rely so far on the judgment of those who are interested in you, I feel confident, that ere long you will look back upon the present epoch as upon a troubled dream, and be thankful that you were wakened out of it even by force. I just state the case on its simple ground, of what is to be directly conducive to your own recovery and welfare. You yourself will doubtless take the collateral considerations into account, and do your best to prove to all concerned,. that your fitness for your situation, and zeal for the public service, are equal to what they were induced to expect. By no other means, in fact, can you hope ever to realise a brighter futurity for yourself; for if once you were to give up under a temporary fit of disgust, in spite of the best founded assurances of a healing and comforting future, no one, not even yourself, could ever again take or expect advantage from any better opening which might present itself."

The effect of these counsels was satisfactory. The patient, who was acquainted with Phrenology, was in‑

VISIT TO COUL.

287

duced to persevere in the discharge of his duties, and to obey the laws of health; and in a few weeks improvement commenced, which in due season terminated in complete recovery. As such cases are not rare among ardent and studious young men, the letters may interest and benefit a pretty numerous class.
Dr Combe in a letter to his brother George, dated 6th May 1837, gives a view of his owl? health, even in its best states, which shews with how many difficulties he had to contend :—

" The greatest evil I suffer under," says he, " is imperfect sanguification in my obstructed lungs. It is this that impairs the working power of my brain as much as that of my muscles, and thus renders me more like a vegetable than is at all consistent with my wishes and feelings. Sometimes, indeed, the thought of my uselessness, where there is so much good to be done, oppresses me, and makes me think of all expedients to remove it, and especially to try a very long voyage and much open air, which certainly act more beneficially on me than anything else. But I have so much to be thankful for, that I have really no right to complain."

This practical testimony to the lowering of mental energy by imperfect sanguification in the lungs, may be useful to persons who are apt to overlook the dependence of moral and intellectual vigour on the air they respire. It affords also a striking admonition to those who, in their zeal to oppose Phrenology, have hazarded the assertion, that the brain is not necessary to the mental manifestations, and that the intellectual powers continue unimpaired in vigour amidst all the ravages of bodily disease.
In May he paid a visit to his friend, Sir George S. Mackenzie, and in a letter to his brother George, dated Coul, the 10th of that month, he gives the following pleasing picture of his el~joymellt in the family circle. The letter is characteristic of Dr Combe's mind; for

288	ADVICE TO A CONVALESCENT PATIENT.

in the bosom of a cheerful, harmonious, and intelligent family, in which the gravity of age was enlivened by the buoyancy of youth, he ever found his highest gratification.

" I can scarcely express the delight I have felt at the social happiness of this family. Lady Mackenzie (Sir George's second wife) has been a blessing to them all, as well as to Sir George, and there is an ease and confidence among all the members of the family which is admirable. Lady Mackenzie's vivacity, kindness, and practical good sense, give her a most wholesome influence in blending different elements of mental character into one harmonious compound ; and her daughter's light‑hearted but rational gaiety enlivens everybody, and sometimes shakes my sober tabernacle, till my sides get sore with laughing. Lady M. affirms most irreverently, that there is much ‘ quiet' mischief within me, but I assure her that it must be very quiet, seeing that I always behave with such unexampled propriety in thought, speech, and action !"

The earnest tone and practical sense of the following letter of

ADVICE TO A CONVALESCENT PATIENT,

may render it interesting and instructive to some readers. It is addressed to the wife of a gentleman who had just recovered from a severe indisposition :—

" I regret to hear that Mr	has not been so well for a day
	or two; but it leads me to repeat very earnestly the caution I was
so anxious to enforce, when I visited him at	, viz., that however
well Mr	‑may feel, and however able he may consider himself for his
	usual way of living and occupations, still he ought for some months to re
	gard himself as am invalid, ' aged always to keep within the limits prescribed
to him.	If he will yield this point to the experience of others, he will
	go on safely to sound health and freedom; but if he be led to neglect
	it, he may in a week, or in a day, lose all that weeks and months have
	gained, but which it will, every clay that is delayed, become more
and more difficult to regain if once thrown away.	For months past
	his system has been disordered, and, for months to come, care will be
required to restore it. 	There is no means of sudden and lasting

ADVICE TO A CONVALESCENT PATIENT.		289

recovery, no royal road to health by which he can at once attain his
object. The system suffered long before the crisis came, and a deli
cacy necessarily remains, which can be cured only by continued care and
a right course. I know this well by personal experience, as well as
by observation on others; but instead of repining at what is unalter
able, I am thankful for the possibility of regaining any portion of
health, by a care which, after all, imposes few restrictions, and de
prives me of few pleasures.			If I cannot expose myself as formerly to
fatigue, or eat and drink whatever comes in my way, surely it is better
to avoid the exposure, and refrain from what is hurtful, and thus reap
useful activity and much enjoyment, than to incur the exposure, and
destroy my health and comfort by inattention to regimen. If I deny
myself wine, which I was once able to drink with benefit, I do so, be
cause the balance is now on my side. If I refrain from evening parties,
which I once enjoyed, it is for the same good reason that more real
enjoyment attends the denial, than if I were to go there, and suffer for
doing so. It is the same with Mr ‑‑‑. If he will resolutely fore
go, for the present, indulgences not now safe for him, he will enjoy
greater present happiness than by giving way to them, and have the
farther comfort of thereby adding to his future stamina at the same
time. Whether, then, he regards merely the present, or the long
enduring future, every motive ought to urge him to observe the neces
sary restrictions, and for a sufficient length of time ; and he ought
never to lose sight of the fact, to me as plain as the sun at noon‑day,
that be cannot by possibility be can aceurateJudye of his own' state, or know
beforehand how much he is able to stand. No one in similar circum
stances can judge for himself. He was not conscious how far his system
was suffering before he became seriously ill, and he cannot determine
the exact point to which be has reached in his recovery; and therefore
he should continue to avoid all hurtful causes till it be ascertained that
he is strong enough in mind and body to resist them.		A patient re
covering from fever walks valiantly up and down his room, and begs to
be allowed to go into the open air, because he feels quite strong. He is
told that his strength is really not equal to the exertion, and answers
that‑he is sure it is, for be feels so strong. Remonstrance is in vain.
He goes out, totters at the door, and in five minutes is ready to sink.
In like manner, Mr			may feel very well and composed when all
disturbing causes are shut out, and yet be in a most unfit state for their
being let in upon him. In other words, he may feel, when attending
to the requisite restrictions, quite well and fit for any thing, and yet
be liable to suffer by any departure from them. Allow the system time
to confirm its increasing strength, and then he may go safely beyond the
limits; but his safety lies in not venturing prematurely. As I told
		T

290	LETTER TO MISS SEDGW ICK.

him repeatedly, it is possible that restrictions may be continued in this way a day or two, or a week or two, longer than is absolutely necessary ; because no human power can tell the exact point to which one can safely go ; but even granting this, what harm is done ? Absolutely none. A few days sooner or later in a question of lasting and possibly life‑long importance, ought surely to be left out of the account.
" I would therefore earnestly urge your husband to let business and everything else devolve upon others for the present, and to shun everything which can either lay hold of his feelings, or injure his digestive and other functions. Let him get well, and then dispose of himself as he chooses ; but till then, let him have confidence in those who wish his happiness and know his state, and be guided by their counsel. If he does, he will one day thank them. If not, I fear he will miss his aim, and bring suffering on himself."

Miss Sedgwick of New York sent one of her publications to Dr Combe, and on the 22d of June 1837 he wrote to her on the subject of

TEACHING PHYSIOLOGY Tb CHILDREN AS PART OF TIIEIR EDUCATION.

" I should have answered sooner your very kind letter of 7th May, which reached me on the 30th, but the little box which ought to have accompanied it did not make its appearance till three days ago‑too late to enable me to avail myself of sending a packet from this by the return of the Roscoe. In the mean time, I cannot delay offering you my best acknowledgments for your very gratifying letter and present, which are among the most pleasing testimonies of the usefulness of my labours which I have ever received. Your anecdote of my young namesake is very cheering, because it is an evidence, among several others, that young minds can be interested by, and turn to good account, the knowledge of their own structure, and of the laws by which our functions are regulated. It is by impressing the young with useful truths that the greatest ultimate effect upon society is to be produced; and on that account I am peculiarly anxious to see physiological information made a part of the ordinary instruction communicated to the more advanced pupils at schools and academiesand, if possible, still more anxious to see its important applications to the promotion of human happiness inculcated in the example of parents and instructors. We cannot foresee the full extent to which physiology may be made available, until we have the practice and its results exhibited to the young in the conduct of their seniors; and if

LETTER TO MISS SEDGWICK.

291

parents were duly impressed with the influence of their example as unequivocal evidence of their own truthfulness in teaching precepts, it would act as a strong stimulus to obedience in themselves to the laws of God. For this, however, a long time will be required ; but that it will arrive I have the most firm faith. Every succeeding generation gets a step in advance; and as education is only beginning to be rightly understood, we may reasonably hope that our future progress will be in an accelerated ratio. Your valuable little book will teach a useful lesson to many parents as well as children, and by its reference of ordinary events to their proper causes, will lead the more reflecting among them to trace to their own conduct many of the evils which, in charity to themselves, they are pleased to roll over upon a Providence which seeks only their happiness. One inestimable advantage will attend this course, which is with me a very powerful impulse to write; and it is this :—So long as the people are in ignorance of the true causes of events, and of the laws or principles out of which they spring, there is a most mischievous but inevitable tendency always to throw the blame of every evil which befalls them, either upon the deficiencies of their neighbours, or upon the decrees of Providence ; and the highest virtue which can emanate from them is that of quiet resignation, with no provision whatever against a recurrence of the evil. But once teach them what the laws of God are, what their purposes, and the results of transgressing them, and immediately they get a standard to refer to, which leads directly to the questions, In what have I failed? and What can I do to avoid this another time ? Hence a more enlightened resignation to present evil, greater charity for others, and a more earnest desire for self‑improvement, as our first and most binding duty.
" I was pleased to find you quote the passage about natural laws having the weight and authority of the great Creator, and not those of mere erring man; and I was not less pleased to notice the continual reference which yon consequently make to the great Giver of all good. I cannot fancy a more delightful occupation than tracing back every curious design in our economy to the wisdom and beneficence from which it emanated, or a more convincing inducement to our fulfilment of His purposes, especially in addressing the uncontaminated minds of the young. Much of the ultra‑religious spirit of the present day seems to me to arise from a gross perversion of God's truth, and to lead to the worst consequences on private and public morals. But the proper cure lies not in directly withstanding it, but in diffusing widely a knowledge of truths in and about creation, which no sane mind can dispute. By slow degrees this will undermine the fabric of error, just as the progress of science and reason undermined

292	HIS " DIGESTION" TRANSLATED INTO GERMAN.

witchcraft and active religious persecution. You are doing much good in this way, and I trust will yet do much more.
" But I must not sermonize. I wish to send you, by the first opportunity, a copy of the fifth edition of my Physiology, which contains a good deal of additional matter, and a chapter on the moral treatment of the nervous and insane‑a subject in which the public have a much deeper interest than is imagined, and on which they are lamentably deficient in correct information. I pressed it on Miss M ‑'s attention before she went to America; but her mind is too much devoted to other subjects to admit of her taking it up with spirit. If you would think of it, it is much in harmony with your habits of thinking and feeling, and you might do infinite good by writing such another story as the Poor Rich Man, &c."

In a letter to his nephew, Robert Cox, dated 9th June 1837, Dr Combe mentions that he is at press with the sixth edition of his " Digestion;" and that his brother George has sent to him from Berlin a German translation of the work by Dr Carl Rauber. The German title, he says, when rendered into English, reads thus: “The Laws of Digestion, and the thereuponfounded modes of life for preventing and removing disturbances in the lower region (abdomen), made very clear to the general reader, by Dr Andreas Combe," &c. The " Leipsic Journal of Literary Entertainment and Instruction," also, had published four articles on the work, in which the matter and the woodcuts were much praised.
Dr Combe made an excursion through the manufacturing districts of Lancashire; and in a letter, dated Edinburgh, 15th July 1837, addressed to his brother George, at Salzburg, he describes

THE CONDITION OF THE ENGLTCTl OPERATIVES

in the following terms:—

“I was disappointed of a vessel to St Petersburgh from Leith, and, after much delay, decided oil sailing to Bremen, for which purpose I went to Hull. There, however, the heat was so intense, that I feared

HOW TO MEET UNAVOIDABLE EVILS.		293

to proceed to the Continent, and took steam to Selby, railway to Leeds, coach to Manchester, and railway to Liverpool, where I stayed some days. Up to Selby, the sail was very pleasant. From Selby to Leeds the railway and country reminded me of Belgium. Leeds I found very ‘ Boar‑Lane' and ‘ Swine‑Alley' looking, but curious. The road between Leeds and Manchester runs through a very hilly, densely‑peopled, manufacturing country; and the evidently overwrought population astonished me not a little, and impressed me more strongly than all the eloquence I ever read or listened to, with the danger involved in neglecting the English operatives, and allowing them to continue in their present condition ; and with the imperative necessity of improving it by education, leisure, and a humanizing participation in some of the enjoyments of life. Physically, the people are well off. That is, their habitations are tolerable, and their clothing sufficient. But their hard and unsmiling features, and general expression, betoken frames habitually exhausted by excessive labour, and incapable of experiencing gladdening emotions. Even the very Quakers look grim, care‑worn, and irritable. One cannot think without shuddering, on the magazine of brute force thus collecting, ready to burst forth when the day of adversity shall arrive, and human patience shall be able no longer to restrain it. Then the wealthy and the aristocratic will perceive that even selfishness should have prescribed kindness as the best means of their own security. But leisure must precede education, otherwise the latter will be a comparatively useless gift."

In a letter, dated Edinburgh, 6th September 1837, he admonishes a young friend in regard to

THE PROPER MODE OF ACTING UNDER UNAVOIDABLE EVILS.

" I have a word to say to you on the subject of the stoical comfort you take to yourself when you resolve not to trouble yourself about evils which cannot be remedied. I am afraid that your doctrine on this subject is not perfectly sound, and will, therefore, lead to practical evils. At least I am satisfied that its wrong apprehension has acted injuriously on some members of the family, and I fear also at times on yourself. I agree most cordially with you in thinking it wrong to look with a repining spirit upon unavoidable evils; but I differ from you, if you inculcate farther, that because they cannot now be helped, the best way is to drive them altogether from your nxind. The proper mode of proceeding is to examine carefully the ('(cnses of their occurrence, to discover how far, by a greater exercise of prudence, they might have been prevented, and how, in future, simi‑

294	HOW TO MEET UNAVOIDABLE EVILS.

lar mishaps may be most effectually warded off. Self‑improvement necessarily follows such an examination as this, when conducted in a right spirit; and to neglect it, by forcibly withdrawing the mind from the subject altogether, is voluntarily to sacrifice the benefits of experience, and to leave ourselves equally exposed to the recurrence of the evil as when we met it for the first time. But, following the right course, we are naturally led to the next necessary step, viz., to survey the matter in all its probable consequences, in order to find out the best way for making the burden as light as possible, both to ourselves and those who are sharing it with us. We have then a more satisfactory peace of mind, arising from having actively discharged our duty, than we can possibly acquire by merely thrusting the subject from our minds, like an unwelcome guest out of our house. Look abroad upon mankind, and you will see this principle everywhere exemplified. I believe that Mr ‑,who became bankrupt, often acted upon the erroneous view of trying to dismiss disagreeable occurrences at once from his recollection ; but would he not now have been happier had he tried, when his first loss was sustained, to follow out what I conceive to be the true philosophical principle ? It would at least have increased his chances of well‑doing. The wrong way encourages indolence and self‑delusion; the right way activity of mind and self‑knowledge, besides multiplying rational resources. I am the more anxious to guard you against mistake on this point, because our philosophical principles have occasionally been mistaken, and harm may result from a wrong impression and erroneous application of them."

295

CHAPTER XVIII.

DR	COMBE'S MODE OF ACTION WHEN ANNOYED BY HARASSING CARES.LETTER OF CONGRATULATION TO SIR JAMES CLARK ON HIS RECEIVING A BARONETCY.‑DEATH AND CHARACTER OF DR JOHN MACKINTOSIL‑THE INSIDIOUS INROADS OF DISEASE.‑HOM(EOPATHY.‑REPUBLICATION OF DR COMBE'S WORKS IN AMERICA.‑SHOULD FRIENDS TELL EACH OTHER THEIR FAULTS ?,‑LETTER TO SIR JAMES CLARK. ‑ANSWER TO PROFESSOR TIEDEMANN'S ESSAY " ON THE BRAIN OF THE NEGRO COMPARED WITH THAT OF THE EUROPEAN AND THE ORANG‑OU TANG."

DURING the summer and autumn of 1837, some unfortunate occurrences took place, which gave Dr Combe great uneasiness on account of the parties concerned, and made him feel it his duty to contribute, by anxious deliberation and advice, to their extrication from embarrassment. In the course of his endeavours, he found great difficulty in persuading some whose judgment he convinced, but whose feelings impelled them in an opposite direction, to adopt measures which, though unpalatable at the moment, would lead to permanent benefit, instead of such as were fitted merely to bring present relief, at the expense of prolonged suffering in the end. In such a position, his health and comfort could not fail to be impaired; but through careful management he escaped serious injury to the latter. A communication, dated 24th October 1837, addressed by him to Sir James Clark, illustrates how completely he relied upon his own principles in serious circumstances, and how clearly and constantly he recognised in practice the connection between the moral and physical conditions of man:
‑

296 	DR JOHN MACKINTOSH.

" For a time," he writes, " I lost comfort by day, and rest by night ; but by continually running away to the country and seeking a new scene for a week or two, and returning to the battle‑field, I succeeded at last, to a certain extent, as regards the sufferers, and to a great extent as regards my health ; but at the expense of utter idleness as to all other employment, and a cost in comfort which I should be loath again to encounter. The result, however, has added to my former confidence in the benevolence and efficacy of the laws of nature as intended for our preservation and restoration ; and thus by another road we come back to our old topic‑the importance of hygiene as a branch of medical and general education."

The following letter, dated 4th November 1837, was addressed by Dr Combe to Sir James Clark on his obtaining a baronetcy front the Queen, and it contains also his opinion of Dr John 1Vlackintosh, Surgeon to the Ordnance Department in North Britain, a distinguished lecturer on the Principles of Pathology and Practice of Physic in Edinburgh.

" I heartily congratulate you and your excellent lady on your welldeserved honours, which I saw announced in yesterday's newspaper. Long may you both live in all happiness and prosperity to enjoy them. You owe them to yourself alone, and that is the most gratifying consideration attending them ; and there seems to be but one feeling on the propriety of Her Majesty bestowing them. I have heard both Whig and Tory differing on all other points, and coinciding in this.
" You have, of course, heard of poor Mackintosh's death. With a good deal of rashness and occasional lack of discretion, Mackintosh combined great zeal, activity, and acuteness, and did more to give a salutary stimulus to our Medical School than any man either within or without the walls of the College. He was boastful and confident in his own opinions, and rashly disparaged every one from whom he differed ; but there was with all this an earnestness of purpose, and kind of generosity of feeling, which had an excellent effect on his pupils ; and if he was boastful, his deeds were always at hand to support him, although not exactly to the extent which he claimed. He inspired the students with enthusiasm for their profession, and made them active thinkers, instead of passive recipients of precepts. His self‑esteem and want of prudent caution were his greatest enemies, and led him, sooner or later, to quarrel with those who were intimate with him. From the first I felt this, and always avoided intimacy. The

THE INSIDIOUS INROADS OF DISEASE.		29%

result was, that except once, when he imagined that I was the author of a criticism praising a book which he knew I did not esteem, and for which inconsistency he instantly assailed me, we always got on well together ; and when I told him he wronged me, he was vexed beyond measure at his injustice."

The subjects of the next letter are, The insidious inroads of disease, and Homceopathy. It is dated 10th November 1837, and is addressed to Dr Hirschfeld, Bremen.

" My brother and I had the pleasure of receiving your very kind letters a few days ago, and we rejoice to find that you are at last conscious of renovated health and strength. I can well understand your remark, that when you met my brother, you were not conscious of being below the level of vigorous health, and learnt the fact only by comparing your present with your past sensations. Before I became decidedly ill, in August 1831, the conviction came upon me, all at once, that for many months previously my health had been giving way to a serious extent, and I recalled many indications which, in another, would have instantly excited my attention; but my mind having been constantly occupied by pressing duties external to myself, consciousness did not come fairly into play with its information till matters had advanced so far as to incapacitate me for work. Early in the season you would be blinded to your own situation in a somewhat analogous way; but I am very glad that you learn, by renovated health, and not by increase of symptoms, what your past state was.
" You were not altogether wrong in half expecting me in autumn. I had contemplated making the excursion then, if my health required it ; but many circumstances rendered my presence necessary at home, if I could remain. By short excursions, I have contrived to become tolerably vigorous and healthful, and therefore trust to pass the winter quietly at home. In spring, however, I look forward to the satisfaction of enjoying your society once more for a short time, and renewing my acquaintance with Madame Hirschfeld, of whom my niece and I retain a very agreeable recollection. I confess I shall be thankful to have an opportunity of seeing something of homceopathic practice under the auspices of an intelligent, cautious, and truthseeking man like yourself; for I can learn nothing by mere reading. Many of Hahnemann's opinions seem to me so very unreasonable and even contradictory, that I cannot adopt them ; and yet when I hear unquestionable facts mentioned, and know that you, for example, are

298

HOM(EOPATIIY.

convinced byexperie‑nce of their soundness, I cannot but pause before I condemn. As yet I have not been able to see any homoeopathic practice ; and by facts and observation only can such a question be decided. Every day convinces me more and more that the common practice of medicine stands in need of as thorough reform as our political constitution lately did; and that, in England in particular, we err by attempting to coerce Nature, and substituting our ways for hers, instead of taking the animal machine as she has made it, and trying merely to aid or restore the play of her own principles, as far more effective for our good than any we can put in their place. I think, accordingly, that we give greatly more medicine than is for the interest of any bodyexcept the apothecary; but that the infinitesimal doses of Hahnemann really produce effects which last for days or weeks (sometimes forty days), is so different from anything I have yet experienced, that, except from personal observation, I cannot believe it possible ; and I hardly need repeat to you, that I much desire to witness such results. I should be thankful to see some exposition of the subject from your pen, and hope you will fulfil your intention of writing one in the form of letters. Many of the followers of Hahnemann, like those of Gall, are conceited and ignorant men, whose advocacy is sufficient to injure any cause, however good; and therefore the greater is the necessity for a shrewd, well‑informed man like yourself, stating what you know in regard to it. If you really think of writing in the form of letters addressed to me, I shall be much gratified in accepting this mark of your goodwill, and pleased to have given you a motive to fulfil a right intention. All that I wish, however, in being so addressed, is to be considered as an inquirer, willing and anxious to receive light and truth, and not as already a follower. The sooner you shall set about this purpose the better.
" I have left little room to return my best thanks for your kind intention of sending me copies of the translations of my books. I have been reading the German ‘ Digestion,' and get on tolerably well. I am glad you like the book, and thank you for your friendly remarks on it. The London homoeopathists, I am told, recommend both books, as harmonizing with their views more than those of any other allopathist. Is this the fact? I leave a short space for my brother; and, with friendly regards from Miss Cox and myself to you and Mrs Hirschfeld, remain," &c.

The first paragraph of this letter contains the Statement of a fact which Dr Combe kept steadily in view in practice,‑namely, that, in many instances, bad

REPUBLICATION OF DR COMBE'S WORKS IN AMERICA. 299

health steals insidiously upon individuals, by a gradual, and to themselves often imperceptible, process of deterioration. From over‑exertion of mind, sleeping in small and ill‑ventilated rooms, leading too sedentary a life, inattention to the quantity and quality of food, or to the proper intervals for taking it, or other similar causes, the tone of the vital organs is slowly impaired, and, in consequence, the individual becomes liable to catch the first epidemic disease, or to suffer from any sudden and severe lowering of temperature, or other adverse influence to which he may happen to be exposed. Impressed with this conviction, Dr Combe kept an observant eye on such of his patients as were within his personal reach, and spontaneously warned them of the first indications of failing vigour, without allowing them to proceed in their downward course until a specific disease should develop itself, and he should be sent for to give advice. Indeed, he regarded the discharge of this duty as the most useful and honourable office of the physician.
In the United States the law permits works first published in foreign countries to be printed there free from the control of their authors, to whom it denies all recompence from the sales. Dr Combe felt the injustice of this rule, and in answer to an American publisher, who requested him to prepare a work for him, he wrote as follows :—

" EDINBURGH, November 1837.

" I have every reliance on your doing me as much justice as any other firm, but still an agreement can never be quite satisfactory unless we know beforehand its precise terms. Take my past labours for an example. My three books on Insanity, Physiology, and Digestion, have all been successful in the States, and the only advantage I have yet derived from that success, has been the consciousness of doing good, and the pleasure of contesting a postage of three guineas on

300 SHOULD FRIENDS TELL EACH OTHER THEIR FAULTS?

three copies of the Physiology, sent to me by Messrs Harper from New York."

An English statute confers a copyright in the British dominions on every author, the laws of whose own country allow a similar protection to British authors; and although several of the Continental States of Europe have reciprocated with Great Britain in this act of justice to literary men, the United States of North America have resisted all endeavours to induce them to act on this principle. One consequence of their conduct is the obstruction, by themselves, of the growth of a native literature; for publishers who are at liberty to appropriate, without recompence, the whole riches of the English press, do not find it necessary to foster, by adequate remuneration, the literary talent of their own countrymen.
The following letter, written in 183'7, contains

DR COMBE'S VIEWS ON THE INEXPEDIENCY OF FRIENDS BECOMING

DIRECT CENSORS OF EACH OTHER'S FAULTS.

" I do not say that you have no faults, but merely that the nature and objects of our intercourse have not been such as to call into play any worth commenting upon, except such as I have already adverted to. But if I knew of serious faults in you, I am doubtful whether I should tell you them plainly. I have thought a good deal on this subject, and have had some experience to guide me; and my impression is, that we exert a more healthful and permanent influence on another by giving every possible encouragement to the good parts of his character, than by direct notice of the bad ; and that by thus strengthening the good, we give the person a more discerning pereeption of his own failings, and a greater control over them, than we can ever attain by merely counselling him directly against his errors.
" In proportion as a monitor within exceeds in weight and autho‑

~ Subsequently, by sending early copies of his improved editions to Messrs Marsh, Capon, and Lyon, of Boston, Dr Combe enabled them to obtain priority in the American market, and they paid him some compensation for this advantage. Afterwards he received also a small sum from Messrs Harper.

SHOULD FRIENDS TELL EACH OTHER THEIR FAULTS? 301

rity a monitor without, so does the one method excel the other. It is, besides, very difficult for two friends to preserve thorough confidence in each other after the direct notice of faults. In spite of our best endeavours, a feeling, however slight, of mortification creeps in to disturb the permanence of the influence ; and though the fault may he corrected, that feeling may destroy the future power of the counsellor to benefit his friend. To take my own case, for example, I can truly say that when witnessing the never‑failing kindness and sympathy shewn by you and yours with the sufferings of your fellowcreatures, I have not only felt my own better feelings roused into purer and higher action, but I have felt my selfishness rebuked within me, and seen my deficiencies with a keener and more improving eye than if you, or ally one else, had plainly told me that you perceived them, and wished to warn me against them. There are cases, and especially in the instance of the guardians of youth, in which the direct notice of faults is called for, and proves beneficial ; but this seems to me to hold good only where the one possesses a natural authority over the other, and to which the other feels himself naturally subject. Among equals in mature age, I doubt the propriety or benefit of the plan of direct naming of faults, and whether we do not, in following it, transgress the rule of ‘ Judge not,' &c. We can rarely tell the precise motives of another.
" If you cultivate and encourage the good in another's character, you necessarily strengthen the inward check, and leave the bad to languish in comparative inactivity. At the same time you risk no mortification, but, on the contrary, elicit confidence and mutual respect. Try the rule by your own experience, and I think you will agree with me.
" The same principle applies to the manner in which we should act towards those who differ from us. Our real object is to improve ourselves and them. We can attain this end only in proportion as their and our good feelings travel together, and delight in the same contemplations. If a strong difference starts up, and we proceed to take each his own decided ground on it, we necessarily call into activity our combative and lower feelings to aid in the contest ; but then unfortunately their impulse is to repel the more, the longer they are excited, and not. to attract. The result consequently is, in nine cases out of ten, to place the parties wider apart. If, on the other hand, you seek points on which you harmonise as to essentials, your better feelings come into play towards each other, and when occasion calls naturally for a decided expression of o inion, it makes double the impression on a candid mind, from the Jery circumstance of your not having thrust it forward. I do not mean that one ought to hide his

302	LETTER TO SIR JAMES CLARK.

opinions, and seem to adopt those of another ; far from it : but merely that on ordinary occasions it is right to meet on friendly grounds when you have it in your power.
" The same principle makes me, as I said before, always very unwilling to speak about the unfavourable traits of a third party's character, unless a direct occasion requires. It is the cultivation of the better feelings which gives true happiness, and alleviates the numerous evils to which we are subjected; and if unnecessarily we denounce any one's failings, we are thereby stirring up an unfavourable feeling towards him. In the case of that youth, Mr , for example, if I had been asked before be was engaged, what I thought of him, I should have felt compelled to tell that I regarded him as very deficient in the higher qualities of intellect, and so much satisfied with his own talents and acquirements as would make him not a desirable tutor. But the thing being concluded, to have expressed this opinion afterwards, would have tended only to make his employer prejudiced against him, and to place him under an additional disadvantage. I communicated my views to you, because good may afterwards come out of your knowing them; and I have full confidence that you will not, in the mean time, use this knowledge to his prejudice."

Among the trials of patience and forbearance which Dr Combe, in common with other phrenologists, was called on to sustain, none was more difficult to bear than the injustice of a large portion of the British press towards Dr Gall's Physiology of the Brain. A remarkable example of this is mentioned in the following letter to Sir James Clark, dated 25th November 1837, which contains also allusions to other topics of general interest :—

" I delight in your success in getting hygiene introduced into the curriculum of medical education ; and, if a good course can be devised, you will have done something worth living for, even had you no other claim on the goodwill of your fellow‑mortals. I have been thinking over a plan, but am still undecided as to the best, and will set my brain to work as soon as possible to arrive at a conclusion. You suggest ‘ Elements of Hygiene' to me, without knowing that such a project has been floating through my head for some months, and is, I may say, resolved upon, when I can get time to execute it. Can you name any good books to help me ? I am just now occupied with a small

COMPARISON OF THE NEGRO AND EUROPEAN BRAIN. 303

volume on the Management of Children, from birth up to two or three years, or, perhaps, up to puberty, as I have a good many useful ideas stored up on the latter years. Can you help me with any suggestions or points to be commented on ? If you will, I shall be exceedingly obliged. My book on Insanity is out of print; but I shall delay a new edition for a year or two. About 100 copies per annum have gone off very steadily.
" I wish you would procure the first Number of the New Series of the Phrenological Journal, published in London on 1st December by Simpkin and Co., and read my notice of Tiedemann. The Professor has made a sad mess of his materials; and although there is scarcely one of his important conclusions which is not directly at variance with his oavn facts, his article has been copied and lauded as a great discovery by most of our scientific journals. Tell me what you think of it. Being printed in London, I could not revise it, which I was sorry for. The Journal is now out of our hands, as we had not time for it.
" Do you know your neighbour, Dr ‑‑? His pamphlet on Moral Insanity, which he claims as original, appears to me to be merely paraphrased from, without reference to, the phrenological books; and I may notice also, that the author of The Philosophy of Living, quotes an account of Captain Murray's means of preserving the health of his crew, without mentioning where he got it." To the best of my knowledge, Captain M. never published any statement, and his letter to me is the original document. ‑‑ gives the substance very correctly, and with inverted commas, but the words are not the same as in Murray's letter, and I should like much to know whence he has taken it."

As Professor Tiedemann enjoys a deservedly high reputation as a physiologist, it is instructive to observe to how great an extent prejudice against a rival in the same field of inquiry was capable of blinding his generally clear and strong judgment. His Essay was published in the Philosophical Transactions for 1836, Part Il., under the title of " The Brain of the Negro compared with that of the European and the Orang‑outang;" it was widely circulated, and strongly commended by the British press. Dr Combe answered it, but coinpara‑

' It was addressed to Dr Combe, and appeared first in " The Constitntion of Man," by George Combe, and subsequently in Dr Combe's " Physiology applied to Health," dc.

304	PROFESSOR TIEDEMANN'S COMPARISON

tively only a few of the more honest and intrepid editors gave currency to the refutation. The question of difference in the natural qualities of races has recently acquired increased importance from the struggles of the continental nations to rend asunder the artificial bonds of political combination forced on them by conquerors and statesmen, and to form themselves into new unions composed of men of the same race. The following extracts, therefore, from " remarks on. the fallacy of Professor Tiedemann's Comparison of the Negro Brain and Intellect with those of the European, by Andrew Combe, M.D." (Phren. Journal, vol. xi., p. 13), may probably interest the reader, not only as a specimen of Dr Combe's analytic and argumentative powers, but by the inherent interest of the subject.

" Professor Tiedemann's elaborate Essay," observes Dr Combe, " is remarkable in several points of view. It proceeds from the pen of one of the first physiologists of Europe ; its materials have been gathered from a personal examination ‘ of the most celebrated anatomical museums, both on the Continent and in Great Britain ;' and its subject is considered to be ‘ of great importance in the natural history, anatomy, and physiology of Man; interesting also in a political and legislative point of view.' The mode of inquiry pursued in it is based upon the two principles long considered by the phrenologists as demonstrated, but still scouted by many as unworthy of serious discussion‑namely, first, that the brain is the organ of the mind, and, secondly, that there is a constant relation, ceteris paribus, between mental power and cerebral development. A fallacy, however, runs through almost all the author's applications of the above principles, and consequently vitiates many of his most important conclusions.
"Tiedemann's grand objects are, to prove, 1st, that the opinion of Negro inferiority expressed by Camper, Soemmering, Cuvier, and almost all naturalists of any eminence, is incorrect; 2dly, That the Negro brain is equal in size and similar in structure to that of the European ; and, idly, That consequently the former is equally capable of civilization as the latter, and owes his present inferiority entirely to bad treatment and unfavourable circumstances, and will lose it

OF THE NEGRO AND EUROPEAN BRAIN.		305

when placed in the position in society which has been recently assigned to him by the ‘noble British Government.' These positions are urged by Tiedemann with so much philanthropic warmth, and with such hearty zeal in the cause of the Negro, that we feel no small reluctance to enter the lists against him ; but having a thorough reliance on the supremacy of truth, and believing its diffusion to be fraught with more ultimate happiness to the Negro himself than he can possibly derive from the propagation of an amiable error, we offer no apology for attempting to skew that the prevailing opinion remains unaffected by any evidence brought against it by Tiedemann, and that de facto the Negro brain is inferior in intellectual power to that of the European.
" In pursuance of the above objects Tiedemann first inquires, whether ‘ the Negro has the same quantity of brain as the European ?' and to ascertain the fact he institutes an elaborate comparison between the weight of the brain, as determined in upwards of fifty Europeans of different ages and countries, and its weight in several Negroes examined either by himself or others; and the results obtained are not only full of interest to the phrenologist, but well worthy of the attention of those among our opponents who still continue to ridicule the principle of size of brain being, cceteris paribus, a measure of mental power. Every one of the facts mentioned by Tiedemann adds to the already overwhelming proofs adduced by the phrenologists ; but coming in this instance from the pen of a hostile authority, they may probably carry more weight with them than if found in a phrenological essay.
" After quoting the statements of many authors, and detailing the weights of fifty‑two European brains examined by himself, Tieclemann mentions that ‘the weight of the brain in an adult male European varies between 3 lb. 2 oz. and 4 lb. 6 oz. troy. The brain of men who have distinguished themselves by their great talents is often very large. The brain of the celebrated Cuvier weighed 4 lbs. 11 oz. 4 dr. 30 gr. troy, and that of the celebrated surgeon Dupuytren weighed 4 lb. 10 oz. troy. The brain of men endowed with but feeble intellectual powers is, on the contrary, often very small, particularly in congenital idiotismus.' Here then is ample confirmation of the phrenological evidence, and from a source which cannot be considered as biassed in our favour. Tiedemann proceeds : ‘ The female brain is lighter than that of the male. It varies between 2 lb. 8 oz. and 3 lb. 11 oz. I never found a female brain that weighed 4 lb. The female brain weighs on an average from four to eight ounces less than that of the male ; and this difference is already perceptible in a new‑born child.' This also correU

306 	PROFESSOR TIEDEMANN'S COMPARISON

spends entirely with the long‑repudiated statements of the phrenologists, and it is pleasant to see the fact thus broadly admitted.
" Tiedemann goes even beyond the phrenologists in his applications of the principle of size being a measure of power. He says, ‘ There is undoubtedly a very close connection between the absolute size of the brain and the INTELLECTUAL powers and functions of the mind. This is evident from the remarkable smallness of the brain in cases of congenital idiotismus, few much exceeding in weight the brain of a new‑born child. Gall, Spurzheim, Haslam, Esquirol, and others, have already observed this, which is also confirmed by my own researches. The brain of very talented men is remarkable, on the other hand, for its size' (page 502). Here, certainly, is ample corroboration of the influence of organic size on mental power ; but Tiedemann has fallen into the very serious error of taking absolute size of the brain as a measure of intellectual power only; whereas it indicates, as might be expected à priori, absolute mental power, without determining whether that power lies in extent of intellect, in strength of moral feeling, or in the force of passion or affection. A brain of four pounds' weight may be large in the anterior lobe and small in the middle and posterior lobes ; or its chief size and weight may be in the posterior lobes, and the anterior portions be actually small. In both cases Tiedemann would infer equal ‘ intellectual' power; whereas the phrenologist would perceive at a glance, that in the former the intellectual ability would far preponderate, while in the latter the power of mind would consist entirely in intensity of feeling, and the intellect, properly so called, be rather weak than strong.
" If, for example, we compare the Charib with the Hindoo brain, we find the entire mass of the former considerably to outweigh the latter; and, according to Tiedemann, we should find more intellectual talent in the Charib. The fact, however, is notoriously the reverse; and the explanation is very easy when we distinguish the regions of the brain in which the size exists. In the Charib, the anterior lobe is very small, in perfect harmony with his poverty of intellect ; but the posterior and basilar regions of the brain are very large, also in harmony with his ferocity and energy of passion. In the Hindoo, again, the reverse holds ; the anterior lobe is well developed, and so is his intellect ; but the basilar region, so large in the Charib, is small in him ; and, consequently, in vehemenee of passion, active courage, and general force of character, the Hindoo is greatly inferior to the more savage Charib.
" The same distinction occurs every day in social life. We meet with an individual‑a criminal, for instance,‑in whom the brain is absolutely large, but who is, nevertheless, stupid in intellect, and

OF THE NEGRO AND EUROPEAN BRAIN.		307

powerful only in the department of the propensities ; while, on the contrary, we find many an amiable member of society possessed of a brain smaller in absolute size, but far superior to the criminal in the size of its anterior lobe or organs of intellect, and, consequently, far superior to the criminal in thinking power and general talents ;results at utter variance with Tiedemann's rule, but perfectly reconcileable according to the phrenological application of the principle.
" Hence it is obvious, that of two brains, both precisely equal in absolute weight, one may be very deficient in intellectual endowment, compared to the other, and this deficiency be perfectly apparent on inspection, when we attend to the region of the brain in which the preponderance lies. But as Tiedemann, throughout the whole of his experiments, utterly disregards this distinction,‑confounds intellectual power, moral feeling, and brute propensity under one head,‑and treats of the brain as if it consisted of only one lobe, with only one function, namely, the manifestation of intellect, liis inference that because the Negro brain is equal in weight to the European, therefore the Negro is also his equal in intellectual power, falls to the ground, as unwarranted by the evidence. To render his conclusion worth anything, he must shew, not only that the two brains are equal in absolute size, but that the anterior lobe, or seat of intellect, is equally developed in both ;a position which he never attempts to substantiate, and which is at variance with some parts even of his own facts.
" Having obtained the weight of a sufficient number of European brains, Tiedemann next endeavours to ascertain the weight of the Negro brain; but from the very small number of Negroes to be found in Europe, he had great difficulty in obtaining anything like a fair average : in fact, he gives the weight of only four Negro brains,‑one of a boy of fourteen years of age, stated on the authority of Scemmering to have weighed 3 lb. 6 oz. 6 dr. ; a second, of a tall and handsome Negro of twenty years of age, which weighed 3 lb. 9 oz. 4 dr. ; a third, of a large Negro, mentioned by Sir Astley Cooper, of 49 oz. ; and a fourth, examined by himself, of a man twenty‑five years of age, which weighed 2lb. 3 oz. 2 dr.
" In comparing these results with the average weight of the European brain, as stated by Tiedemann himself, it is singular to observe the extent to which they are at variance with his inferences. The European average runs, he says, from 3 lb. 2 oz. to 4 lb. 6 oz., while the average of the four Negroes rises to only 3 lb. 5 oz. 1 dr.‑or 3 oz. above the lowest European averages; and the highest Negro falls 5 oz. short of the highest average European, and no less than 10 oz. short of Cuvier's brain. And, as if these facts were not inconsistent enough with his conclusions, Tiedemann first affirms that in the Ne‑

308	PROFESSOR TIEDEMANN'S COMPARISON

gro ‘the length and height of the cerebral hemispheres do not visibly differ from that of the European; their breadth only being somewhat less' (page 515) ; and immediately after subjoins three tables of the
Dimensions of the Cerebrum of Negroes,' ‘ Dimensions of the Cerebrum of European Males,' and ' Dimensions of the Cerebrum of European Females;' the figures of which directly contradict his assertion ! This seems almost incredible, but on summing up the averages, we find the following results, namely‑

		Inches.
	4 Negroes	.	5
Average length of brain in	7 European males		6
6	females 5
4 Negroes	. 4
Average greatest breadth in 7 European males	5
3	females 5
	3 Negroes .	2
Average height of brain in	7 European males	3
4	females2

Lines.
11
	2.'7
108

819
	1;
	4'
113
	4
	9#

" From these tables it is evident that the dimensions of the brain are smaller in the Negroes measured by Tiedemann than in the European.
" Not having access to a sufficient number of the actual brains of Negroes, Tiedemann has endeavoured to supply the want of direct evidence by comparing the capacity of the Negro skull with that of the European, and thus obtaining an index to the relative size of their contained organs. For this purpose he filled the skulls with millet seed, and carefully noted the quantity which each contained. In a general sense, no objection lies against this mode of proceeding; but it is useless as a means of determining the proportions of size between the different lobes of the brain, and consequently in estimating intellectual capacity as distinguished from power of feeling. For Tiedemann's special purpose, his time, trouble, and zeal are utterly thrown away, and one cannot help regretting that such should be the case. Among other collections which he visited, was the Phrenological Museum in Edinburgh, to which we twice accompanied him, and from which twenty‑three of his observations were taken; and we can bear witness to the pains which he took to ensure accuracy in the individual details; and yet, strange to say, on summing up his table of results, and striking an average (a proceeding which he seems not to have thought of), HIS FACTS AND INFERENCES ARE ONCE 31ORE AT UTTER VARIANCE; and we only regret that the numerous editors who have quoted his authority should not have minutely examined the matter before so widely disseminating his errors.
"After giving several pages of tables comprehending the weight of

OF THE NEGRO AND EUROPEAN BRAIN.		;j0,)

the quantity of millet seed required to fill Ethiopian, Caucasian, Mongolian, American, and Malayan skulls, Tiedemann says : ‘ It is evident, from the comparison of the cavum cranii of the Negro with that of the European, Mongolian, American, and Malayan, that the cavity of the skull of the Negro in general is not smaller than that of the European and other human races. The result of HAMILTON'S researches is the same. I hope this will convince others, that the opinion of many naturalists, such as Camper, Soemmering, Cuvier, Lawrence, and Virey, that the Negro has a smaller skull and brain than the European, is ill‑founded, and entirely refitted by any researches.' (Page 511.) Now we have already seen that the real question of interest, as regards Negro improvement, is not so much the general size of his brain, as the relative size of its anterior lobe and coronal region compared to the basilar and posterior portions. But even as concerns the absolute size of the whole brain, it is an extraordinary fact, that Tiedemann's own tables give a decided superiority to the European over the Negro brain, to the average extent of nearly four ounces ! The average capacity of forty‑one Negro skulls in his own tables amounts only to 37 oz. 1 dr. 10 gr., while the average of 77 Europeans of every nation, also in his own tables, amounts to 41 oz. 2 dr. 30 gr. Of the Negroes, indeed, three are females; but even subtracting these, the Negro average amounts only to 37 oz. 6 dr. 18 gr. Here, then, on Tiedemann's own shewing, we have, first, an inferiority in the dimensions of the Negro brain and a greater narrowness of its anterior lobe ; and, secondly, a marked inferiority in the capacity of the Negro skull to the extent of about one‑tenth; and yet he very strangely infers that both are equal to those of the European, and the Royal Society and half of our scientific men and journals adopt and propagate both facts and inferences as literally correct and of vast importance ! ! If the phrenologists had perpetrated such a series of blunders, Sir William Hamilton and his allies would have shouted in triumph over their stupidity.
" That a physiologist of Tiedemann's talent and merited reputation should have failed so signally in an investigation which he recognizes as one of so much importance, and upon which he has bestowed so much labour, and with so benevolent an intention, is much to be lamented ; but the cause which has led to his failure is still more to be lamented, because it is humiliating to him as a man of science, and is the natural and just result of his own conduct. Well did Tiedemann know that the great discovery of his immortal countryman Gall lay directly in his way in the inquiry in which he was engaged, and that, if true, it must be of great use to him in conducting his experiments. Had he availed himself of its aid, lie would have seen at once the

310 COMPARISON OF THE NEGRO AND EUROPEAN BRAIN.

futility of any investigation based on considering the whole brain as the organ of intellect, and would thus have avoided becoming the instrument of authoritatively diffusing mischievous error, where he was anxious only for beneficent truth. Tiedemann, however, confiding in the strength of his own merits and the durability of his own fame, chose to treat the phrenological physiology of the brain with contemptuous silence, to disregard its facts, and to reject its aid as a guide. He has preferred being a leader in the train of error, to being a subordinate in the march of truth; and as he has chosen his path so shall he be rewarded. His contribution to the Royal Society's Transactions, although hailed at present as an honour to its author, will ere long be regarded as a beacon to warn others how very little first‑rate talent, great industry, and a European reputation can accomplish when employed in a .€alse direction, and how indispensable to true greatness is the direct and undeviating pursuit of truth."

These extracts afford a specimen of, but do not do full justice to Dr Combe's argument; and those readers who may wish to pursue the subject farther, are requested to consult the original article in the Phrenological Journal.

ON HYGIENE AS A BRANCH OF MEDICAL EDUCATION. 311

CHAPTER XIX.

LETTER TO SIR JAMES CLARK ON THE IMPORTANCE OF HYGIENE AS A
	BRANCH OF MEDICAL EDUCATION.

THE following letter is equally characteristic of Dr Combe's mind, and valuable in itself. Although treating of what should, in his opinion, be a branch of medical education, it will be found intelligible and instructive by the general reader. To facilitate its perusal it is printed in large type. It is addressed to Sir James Clark.
" You ask me to help you to an outline of a course of hygiène, that wise men may know what you propose to have taught in such a chair. I acknowledge the advantage; but must, at the same time, confess the difficulty of giving a satisfactory exposition or plan. The subject is so comprehensive, that you will scarcely succeed in giving any other kind of unity to its parts than that which arises from unity of object. Hygiène is defined to be I the art of preserving health and warding off disease;' but this seems to me at once a tautological and a narrow definition. It is tautological, because whatever tends to preserve health tends, ipso facto, to obviate disease. It is narrow, because hygiène affords also the principles by the application of which the development of the various organs may be promoted, and their functions made to be executed with facility and vigour; or, in other words, it skews not only how health may be preserved, but how man's bodily and mental constitution may be most successfully improved.

312	ON THE IMPORTANCE OF HYGIENE As A

" I should say that the province of hygiène is to examine the relations subsisting between the human constitution, on the one hand, and the various external objects or influences by which it is surrounded, on the other; and to deduce, from that examination, the principles or rules by which the highest health and efficiency of all our functions, moral, intellectual, and corporeal, may be most certainly secured, and by obedience to which we may, when once diseased, most speedily and safely regain our health. But perhaps the true nature of hygiène will be best exhibited, by contrasting what at present is taught, with what we require at the bed‑side of the patient, and yet are left to pick up at random in the best way we can.

" 1. By anatomy, we are taught the structure of the body.
" 2. By physiology, we are taught the uses and modes of action of our bodily organs.
" 3. By pathology,‑the doctrine of their diseases.
" 4. By therapeutics,‑the mode of action of medical remedies, and their adaptation to certain morbid states.
" 0. By the practice of physic we are taught to discriIninate individual diseases, and to treat them secwndum artem.
" 6. By morbid anatomy we are taught the organic changes attendant on, or constituting, certain diseases.
" But, after we have learned all these excellent things, how much remains to be found out! As at present taught, all these branches are thrown into the pupil's mind like as many ‘ membra disjecta' scientice, concerning the natural positions and relations of which he is nowhere informed. Although taught the structure and functions of the organism, he is nowhere told how it is affected by the powerful agents in the midst

Y

BRANCH OF MEDICAL EDUCATION.

313

of which he lives. The influence of impure air, and its mode of action in inducing disease and impeding recovery, is nowhere explained. The same holds of atmospheric temperature and moisture, of localities, of diet, and five hundred other subjects. He is told the properties of a remedy, and its application to the cure of disease; but he is left in ignorance of the principles whereby light, sound, ventilation, diet, moral influence, and other more powerful agents ought to be regulated, so as to obtain their co‑operation. The consequence is, that he never thinks of them, but prescribes his pill or his potion, and walks away; and yet, in chronic diseases (the most prevalent of all), these are really the agents from which recovery can be procured. But it is useless to pursue this. You see the defect as well as I do, and the remedy is our next object.
" Adopting the definition of hygiène before stated, the first thing requisite is to communicate a summary or general description of the human body, the structure and uses of its organs, the modifications in them caused by differences of temperament, age, sex, & c., so that the nature of the object to be modified may be fully understood, before treating of the external agents by which the modification is effected. Anatomy and physiology being studied previously, will afford the groundwork of this division of the subject; but, instead of taking, as the teachers of them do, each organ and function in succession, and separately, we must view the living being as a whole, and study its parts in their united and mutually‑influencing character. At present instruction in the latter is omitted, although this only can furnish a real foundation to our knowledge in a practical point of view. We inay as well investigate the excellences and defects of a steam‑engine or piece of machinery by studying every wheel separately, as those of the human body

314	ON THE IMPORTANCE OF HYGIENE AS A

by taking up one organ after another, without regard to the combined action and reciprocal influence of the whole of which it forms a part. As this general view has no place at present in our curriculum, it seems to me that hygiène ought to embrace it, as it forms its basis.
Having thus obtained some acquaintance with the qualities of the subject (human body), I should next examine the objects for which it (man) exists. We know the uses of its individual parts from physiology; but we must also inquire into its purposes as a whole or unit, for all its portions combine towards one common end. A general description of the objects of existence, and of man's position as an inhabitant of the world, and as an active member of society, must next be given; because it is one of the chief aims of hygiène to enable us to adapt man to his situation in life, and to protect him from any injurious influences incidental to it. This branch of instruction would require a short survey of man's moral, intellectual, and religious duties, and of the effects of neglect of them, or of overstrained pursuit of them, on his health,‑and finally, of the great classes or divisions of human employment, with the advantages and disadvantages, in regard to health, of each class, considered with reference to the laws of our constitution.
“Having learned man's nature and the objects of his existence, we come next to examine the agents to the action of which his bodily organism is constantly exposed; and here the difficulty of arrangement begins. If we take the physiological order, and examine the agents which act upon each function in succession, we are apt to run into the old error of disjointing too much, and of recurring several times to the same agent, as it affects one or more functions. If we classify the agents themselves, we fall into similar difficulties; but upon

BRANCH OF MEDICAL EDUCATION.		315

the whole I incline to the latter, while I can see no arrangement by which simplicity can be attained and repetition avoided.
“I should divide external agents into two great classes‑the first to embrace all those to the immediate action of which we are necessarily and always subjected; and the second those to which we expose ourselves voluntarily, and which, therefore, are almost or altogether under our control. I should call the first general, and the latter special, influences.
" The first, or necessary influences to which we are exposed, and from which we can only partially protect ourselves, include the climate under which we live, the locality which we inhabit, the seasons of the year, employments, cultivation, hereditary tendencies, the state of society in regard to morals, and everything else which we have no power of avoiding. Hygiène should teach the effects of climate on individual constitutions or temperaments and different ages, and point out the best means of adapting each to withstand its evils. It ought also to shew how the different seasons affect the balance of functions, and how each individual may protect himself against the evils arising from this source‑such as the bowel.‑complaints, inflammations, &c., attending the vicissitudes of spring and autumn; and the modifications of diet required for winter's cold or summer's heat. As individuals are generally fixed to a locality, it should teach us how to make the most of our circumstances; to cure damp, if we can, by drains, clearing wood, &c. ; if not, to dwell in upper storeys, to avoid damp at sunset or with an empty stomach, &c. ; if exposed necessarily to cold, then to seek sheltered situations and southern aspects, and so forth: hygiène should shew the greater importance of all this in early life.

316 	ON THE IMPORTANCE OF HYGIENE AS A

" Again as to the state of society. This is one of the most potent influences from which we cannot free ourselves. If it is irrational, our manière d'être must, to a great extent, be irrational also, and hygiène should teach us what our mode of living ought to be, and how to protect ourselves, as far as possible, against the evil practices and customs to which we must conform. Our meals and hours of sleep and labour, for example, must be regulated very much by those of the society in which we live, because we must transact our business when other men transact theirs. School‑studies, entertainments, and the times and modes of acquiring and practising accomplishments, all belong to the same category; and therefore hygiène should both denounce what is wrong, and shew how the evils of conformity may be mitigated, by modifications approaching nearer to nature than the common practice. III the salve way, we must take our hereditary tendencies to disease as existing evils; but hygiène should teach us how the infirmities which each entails may be best guarded against, and what professions and modes of life are best calculated to save us from their influences. It should also warn us against transmitting them to our children, without doing everything in our power to diminish their effects.
" The second, or special influences or agents, comprise all the external conditions over which either we can exert a controlling power, or from which we can withdraw ourselves‑such as clothing, cleanliness, diet, choice of situation in the town or district ; selection of south or north aspects; exposure to light or shade; regulation of ventilation and warmth in houses; living on ground or high floors, in low or elevated situations; bathing ; attention to excretions, and to times and quantities of sleep, exercise, and amusements; education, society, moral influences, mental employments,

BRANCH OF MEDICAL EDUCATION.		317

and bodily labour; and the adaptation of these to different temperaments and ages.
" Having thus in one view, 1st, Alan; 2d, The objects of his existence; 3d, The general, and 4th, The special influences which act upon him, we should proceed to apply our knowledge by shewing how he may fit himself for the purposes of life, and at the same time so adapt himself to the general and special influences, as to secure sound health and mental vigour. The principles of education will fall to be explained and illustrated, by exposing the consequences of the prevalent errors arising out of neglect of the laws of the animal economy. In their education we should inculcate the exposition of these things to their patients, as the duty incumbent on medical men for the protection of the families entrusted to their care.
" The next step should be to point out the application of hygiène to promote recovery from disease, by placing every important function, as far as possible, under circumstances favourable to its normal action. The lungs, for example, must have pure air, neither too dry nor too moist, too hot nor too cold, and they must have the power of free expansion. Hence the necessity of a well‑aired bed‑room for a sick person, free from damp or cold, and of the removal of all impediments, in dress or otherwise, to free action of the lungs. Hence also the mischief of making a sickroom a place of .reception for visitors, cooking in it, or permitting any thing to affect the freshness and purity of the air.
" The brain, in like manner, has its laws of action, which must be attended to. On these depend the necessity of prohibiting gossip about diseases, the communication of exciting news, reading, &c., and enforcing cheerful kindness and composure in a sick‑room;

318	ON THE IMPORTANCE OF HYGIENE AS A

also the management of light and heat, so as not to counteract the effects we aim at in our treatment. In pneumonia, for example, hygiène would direct us to prohibit talking as hurtful to the lungs, and indirectly also to the brain, by exciting it farther, where fever is already present; and it would lead us to regulate temperature, air, quiet, &c., in accordance with the object we aim at. It would shew how, nutrition being almost suspended, and the power of oxygenation in the lungs impaired, there is, in the first place, no need of food, and in the second little power of assimilating it; and that consequently, when given, it first irritates by getting into a stomach not naturally prepared for it, and deficient in gastric juice to digest it, thus adding to the already excited state of the system; and next, how, being imperfectly digested, it disagrees with the bowels, produces imperfect chyle which is imperfectly sanguified in the lungs, and thus occasions general excitement which counteracts treatment. Hygiène would farther point out the influence of external cold and heat, and of dirt or cleanliness, on the skin, and the consequent propriety of regulating its condition in these respects. It would shew that the attendant cough arises from an irritant to be expelled (I do not allude to the mere tickling cough at the onset), and that to suppress it by narcotics is to add to the danger, the proper and natural course being to relax and facilitate excretion. We should go through the other principal functions in the same way, and shew that the conditions of health in all ought to be attended to at the bed‑side, and not merely a dose ordered, and the patient left, quoad ultra, to his own whims.
“The great classes of disease might be shortly gone over, and the applications of hygiène to their cure pointed out. This would be medical hygiène.

BRANCH OF MEDICAL EDUCATION.		319

“Having shewn what man can and ought to do for himself, and what the physician ought to do for the families and individuals entrusted to his care, the lecturer might briefly advert to the duty devolving on governments and communities with respect to rendering localities salubrious, affording ample space near towns for exercises and amusements in the open air, removing nuisances, supplying water, prohibiting dirt and narrowness or crowding of streets, &c.; over which individuals have no control.
“Hygiène, according to my view, really forms the connecting link by which all the branches of professional knowledge are bound together, and rendered available in promoting human health and happiness, and in one sense is consequently the most important subject for a course of lectures, although very oddly almost the only one which has not been taught systematically; and I consider the absence of the connecting principle as the main cause why medicine has advanced so slowly, and still assumes so little of the aspect of a certain science, notwithstanding all the talent, time, and labour, devoted to its cultivation. In fact, medicine has no principles worthy of the name, even at the present day; and, as I said formerly, no more striking proof can be given of the necessity of making lectures on hygiène imperative on students, than the very little value now attached to preservative or preventive treatment, and to those important auxiliaries to recovery from illness which it is the province of hygiène to unfold. If medicine rested on its proper foundation in the nature and laws of the human constitution, there would be no need of argument to convince any one of the utility of hygiène. Unless we are acquainted with the laws or conditions which regulate the healthy action of the human body considered as a whole, and of its

320	ON THE IMPORTANCE OF HYGIENE AS A

various organs considered as component parts, how can we lay down consistent principles either for the preservation or for the recovery of health; or for the moral and physical improvement of man ? Experience, no doubt, teaches us many useful facts ; but the want of a guiding and vivifying principle whereby to apply them, robs them of half their value, and most of their authority, as rules for others. Whereas, with such knowledge to guide us, if a child is born with a predisposition to any disease, we can point out the course of education and mode of life best adapted to overcome the tendency, and can make an impression upon an enlightened parent, which, without principle to guide us, we should attempt in vain. If any one possesses a peculiar talent or disposition, by giène shews him how he may best cultivate and enjoy it without the risk of injury to the other parts of his constitution. If he is deficient in any bodily or mental gift, it equally furnishes the best means by which the defect may be lessened or compensated. If he is ill, by revealing to him the mode of action of the circumstances by which he is surrounded upon his different functions, it enables him to avoid what is hurtful, and to pursue whatever will promote his recovery. Whereas, if ignorant of the laws of health, and of the relation of the human body to external. agents, not only will he run a much greater risk of inadvertently losing his health, but the lack of knowledge will throw obstacles in the way of his recovery from disease, by rendering him more liable heedlessly to counteract the effects of the treatment prescribed for him on the faith of its being carried into practical effect.
“In a course of hygiene, I should further introduce a notice of the duties of the physician towards his patients ; because one cause, both of the frequent in‑

BRANCH OF MEDICAL EDUCATION.		321

efficiency of medical aid, and of the comparatively low (and I may say at present falling) standing of the profession in public estimation, arises from the physician having very imperfect notions of his own duties. In consequence, his inadequate discharge of them places him much below the rank to which the liberal exercise of such a profession would carry him. I should include this subject in a course of hygiene, because it has no proper place in any other course, and because the medical man is or ought to be the source of one of the most powerful and beneficial hygienic influences to which a patient can be exposed, although at present this is little dreamt of by our practical men. The real concern of a medical man ought to be the procuring for the family of which he is the adviser the highest health of which it is capable; and had the public, on their side, a just view of the office of a physician, they would resort to him for advice as to their own general management, and the education and bringing up of their children, so as to secure the soundest health for the latter which the constitution admitted of. Does the medical man at present consider the former object to be among his duties, or take any steps to fulfil it ? And if the public were to apply for advice of the latter kind, how many medical men are capable of giving it, and founding it upon any better ground than individual opinion ? Is it not notorious, that, as a general rule, medical men attend only to the particular sick member to whom they are called in; and, so far from taking cognizance of the causes of disease affecting the rest, never think of laying down general principles for the future guidance even of the one who is ill ? They prescribe for him, and, having subdued the present attack, they leave him to providence or chance. Look into the families of medical men, and how very rarely do you x

322	OF THE IMPORTANCE OF HYGIENE As A

see any one precaution exercised, or any one advantage secured, which physiology puts into their power! I have seen the scrofulous offspring of sensible, well‑informed medical men sleeping with closed curtains, three or four in a small room, where an empty one was close at hand. I have many a time seen the children of medical men damaged by stuffing and indiscriminate eating, and neglect of open air and exercise. And if they see no call for taking charge of their own flesh and blood, how can they possibly take an interest in the families of others ? The reason is simply, that they have never been, taught that such concern is a duty incumbent on them as professional men ; and they have never been so taught, because hygiène has been fancied to be a thing which concerns nobody, if we except, perhaps, hypochondriacs and old wives. If medical men were consulted about the general education, mode of bringing up, and professions, most suitable for different constitutions, and predispositions to disease, how very few could give rational advice ! Is this creditable, or calculated to raise the profession in public estimation ? Why cannot all medical men give such advice? Simply, because they have not been taught hygiène.
“What an influential part the state of the mind and general mode of life perform in the production and cure of disease! and yet how little do medical men interest themselves in the feelings or social position of their patients, so as to discover either what they feel or what they suffer! How little pains are bestowed in cultivating confidence and affording sympathy! And yet how powerfully does an unburdened Inind, and cheerful reliance on another, contribute to recovery! Or, in other words, what a powerful hygienic instrument is the physician himself! and yet how few know it!
" I need not enter upon a detail of the physician's

BRANCH OF MEDICAL EDUCATION.		323

duties; you know how to fill up the picture. Another branch is the duties of the patient towards the medical adviser; but this would concern the public more than the medical man, although the latter also ought to have a clear view of them. But suppose a physician thus qualified and thus consulted, it would be as impossible for him to make the exercise of his profession a mere matter of trade, as it would be for the public to rate him as a mere trader. He would necessarily raise himself to a high status, because he would display high qualities. They may devise acts of Parliament to raise his dignity, and put down quacks; but it is for the profession itself to remedy the evil. In this, Parliament is powerless.
‘1 I must now bring this long letter to a close. I have written what I think, because you asked me to do so; but I cannot say that I would follow the arrangement sketched out. It is crude and wants correction, but it will suggest ideas to you, or at least shew my willingness to be of use in this great cause.

" EDINBURGH, 29th November 1837."

On 16th November 1841, Dr Combe wrote to George Combe, then at Mannheim, in reference to this subject, as follows:—

" Apropos of hygiène,‑views of some value thus have passed through my mind, which I could neither arrest nor elaborate ; and now I fear the day is gone by even for the attempt. My books contain many of these views, but not systematized sufficiently to arrest the attention of the unreflecting mind. My correspondence with Sir J. Clark, on the course of instruction for medical students (part of it printed privately for the London University Committee on Education), contains more of them, and in a more explicit form, but still not digested. The bane of medicine and of medical education at present is its partial and limited scope," &c., &c.

324	UNIVERSITY, HIGH SCHOOL, AND

CHAPTER XX.

REMARKS ON THE UNIVERSITY, HIGH SCHOOL, AND NEW ACADEMY OF EDINBURGH.‑OPINION ABOUT RETIRING ALLOWANCES TO PROFESSORS.‑PRACTICAL COMMENTARY ON THAT OPINION AFFORDED BY DR COMBE'S OWN CONDUCT.‑IS APPOINTED ONE OF THE PHYSICIANS EXTRAORDINARY TO THE QUEEN IN SCOTLAND.‑EFFECTS OF DIFFERENT STYLES OF PREACHING.‑ON OBEDIENCE TO THE ORGANIC LAWS. ‑LETTER TO RICHARD CARMICHAEL, ESQ.‑VISIT TO BELGIUM AND GERMANY.

THE subject of EDUCATION, both professional and general, engaged much of Dr Combe's attention; and the following letter, dated 14th December 183'7, addressed to Sir James Clark, contains his

REMARKS ON THE STATE OF THE UNIVERSITY, OF THE HIGH SCHOOL,

AND OF THE NEW ACADEMY, OF EDINBURGH.

These may still be read with interest, as many of the improvements suggested remain to be accomplished. Shortly before the date of the letter, the Universities of Scotland had been visited by Royal Commissioners, who, after making a minute examination into the condition and modes of instruction of each, issued a valuable Report, which was widely circulated. In reference to it, Dr Combe writes:—

" I have not seen the proposed constitution for our University, or the Report of the Commissioners, but have applied for them, and may probably send an opinion soon. The professorships are truly in a sad state ; and a compulsory rule of retirement, at a given age, seems

NEW ACADEMY OF EDINBURGH.		325

to me indispensable for efficiency. Think of old ‑ and others sitting like incubi on our College, checking the now active zeal of our students. Only yesterday he offered to ‘ make a bargain with them. If they would give up making a noise, he would let them out five minutes before the hour' ! ! ! and this, too, in a class for teaching the practice of medicine ! Our Town‑Council means well in its appointments of professors, but there are rarely three persons in it who are qualified to judge for themselves of any man's fitness; and for many years they were led by solicitation and local fame, although they are now improving. If you give the patronage to Government, in spite of fate it is liable to become a job. If I could see better patrons than the Council, I should propose, without remorse, to take the charge from them. Appointing men advanced in life, and no longer likely to go along with the improvements of the time, is, I think, a great error. Thirty or twenty years earlier, the same men might have done much, but at an advanced age they look for repose, and will sit for years like nightmares on their unhappy pupils. A teacher ought to be in the prime of life, active and indefatigable, cheering on, not wetblanketing his pupils.
" The High School is faulty. Till within ten years past, it negligently refrained from anything resembling improvement, and reposed on its past fame. It taught Latin and a little Greek in the hum‑drum way of its ancestors, and allowed writing and arithmetic to be introduced in one apartment. In its exercises, it proposed questions for competition which would have puzzled the heads of our best statesmen, and carefully avoided modern knowledge. Ten years ago, the New Academy gave it a fillip, by improving classical teachand by bestowing more attention on longs and shorts, on poetry, and on Greek. Both, however, devoted their whole time to droning over Latin and Greek, and taught nothing besides. The public demanded an addition of useful knowledge, and a restriction of the time dedicated to classics, particularly for the hundreds destined for commerce and trade, and not for professions. In the Phrenological Journal, and in my brother's lectures, we called loudly for reform. They resisted all change. Another institution (the Hill Street Academy) started up, combining Classics with French, German, History, Mathematics, Drawing (Natural History and Chemistry on Saturdays), &c., under Mr Cunningham, formerly Governor of Watson's Hospital. It succeeded from the first, and with two hours a day devoted to Latin

* Lectures on Popular Education, by George Combe. 3d Edition. 1848.

326

HIGH SCHOOL OF EDINBURGH.

and Greek, sent out equally good classical scholars as its rivals, and with more vigorous minds, from their expansion on other subjects. It soon reached, and now retains, upwards of 250 pupils, although Mr C. hurt his health by over‑exertion, and resigned. The High School fell from 750 to less than 400, and the Academy in rather less proportion. The masters raged against my brother and the phrenological crew, declared the public under a delusion, and themselves the most excellent, upright, and efficient, but most injured, of men. At last they quietly modified their system a good deal, admitted French and Mathematics, taught some useful knowledge, and history and geography incidentally, but with care ; and then published an invitation to the public to come to their school, and see how wrongfully they had been abused, and how much knowledge they really taught,‑as if they had done so always. The consequence is, that their numbers are a little increased. With a splendid school‑house free from rent, a public status and public patronage, they require no aid and no endowment; and it would be wrong to give any to enable them to extinguish their private competitors, who forced them to improve. Mr Cunningham's institution flourishes with a heavy rent, and taxes superadded. Let the High School improve, and it too will flourish.
" The Glasgow High School is a proof in point. The pupils fell down to 300, and the seminary seemed marching to ruin. Two sensible men remodelled it, and adapted it to the present times, and now it numbers nearly 1000 pupils. Ask Mr D'Orsey for its history, and you will obtain much useful information.
°’ The New Academy sends forth able classical scholars, but it is still too narrow in its scope. It is proved by Mr Cunningham's experience, that two or three hours a day devoted to classics, and the rest occupied with learning positive ideas, invigorates the mind more, and produces faster progress even in classics, than the old method of giving the whole time to the latter alone ; and it is natural it should be so.
" One word on medical education. I am convinced more and more that it is too hurried. How can so many new subjects be mastered and digested in four years, and by a mind still immature ? The greatest improvement remains behind. Instead of crowding the curriculum, the time must be extended. If a young man began his studies even at seventeen, can we say that at twenty‑three he will be too late to enter into practice ? Is his mind even then matured, and his knowledge of disease and of mankind such as to give full confidence to his patients? I passed Surgeons' Hall at nineteen and a quarter years, and thought myself late ; but from that time to the present, I have

HIGH SCHOOL OF EDINBURGH.		327

felt the conviction every day increase, that I should have been in excellent time had I then been in my first year of study."

These observations were correct at the time they were made, twelve years ago; but changes have since taken place. Mr Cunningham's seminary exists in other hands, and retains a large number of pupils; while the High School is improved. The radical defect of the latter, however, consists in its want of a sound and self‑consistent organism of some kind or other. It was originally a Latin Grammar School, and, in compliance with the demands of the age, other subjects have been added,‑not interwoven into the system, but superadded, like patches on an old garment. Thus, the study of Greek, arithmetic, mathematics, writing, German, French, and physical science, and the practice of gymnastics, have been introduced; but instead of being arranged as integral parts of the system of instruction, the prosecution or omission of each is left to the discretion of the pupils or their parents, who, in many instances, are ill qualified to judge of the importance of the different elements of education. The prospect of a remedy for this radical defect appears to be still very distant, partly on account of the opposition of the teachers, who seem to conceive that their interests would be affected by a change; and partly owing to the spirit reigning among the patrons of the school (the Magistrates and Town‑Council of Edinburgh), who are of opinion that the school should be essentially, if not exclusively, a classical seminary. This was made apparent recently, when the introduction of physical science was proposed by the present enlightened rector of the school, Dr Schmitz. His suggestion was feebly supported by the majority of the patrons; and, when at last adopted, it was carried into effect in such a manner as to yield the least possible advantage to the

328	HIGH SCHOOL OF EDINBURGH.

pupils. Under these circumstances, a thorough reform of the system seems hopeless, until a great advance shall take place in public intelligence on the subject of education; meantime such improvements have been introduced, under the direction of Dr Schmitz, as the existing arrangements will allow.
Latin and Greek are still the principal subjects of instruction; but they are taught, not so much with a view to form critical scholars, as to train the young men to habits of correct and independent thinking. The pupils are encouraged not to take any thing cognizable by observation and reason on trust, but to inquire into every subject, and, without looking to the right or to the left, to adhere to that which recommends itself to their minds as good, right, or true. Recently, also, the study of history has been extended so as to embrace that of the middle ages and of modern times; and the subject is taught in such a manner as to make the history of one period or nation illustrate that of another. This is an important improvement; for, in studying history, nothing should be regarded as dead. Every portion of it is full of life; and the thousand links that connect the past with the present are just so many portions of a great chain of causation of which our actual condition is the practical result. In this study, moreover, due importance is now attached to the development of political, social, and moral principles, deducible from the history of nations and individuals; and thus the minds of the pupils are enlarged.
We have seen evidence in the present work (page 27) how sadly instruction in the English language and literature was formerly neglected in the High School. During the last two years, Dr Schmitz has introduced into his own classes the study of the historical development, and of the philosophical principles and laws of the

HIGH SCHOOL AND UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH. 329

English language, accompanied by practical exercises and essays on this important subject.
As already mentioned, the patrons have likewise recently introduced the study of the elements of science ; but instead of incorporating it as an essential part of the curriculum of the school, and appointing a competent master to teach it, they have engaged two unconnected lecturers, one of whom lectures only for an hour in the week. This is a very imperfect arrangement; for the time devoted to science is too limited, and, moreover, lectures, even accompanied by examinations, are not the mode of instruction suited to young minds. The teacher should come down to the capacity of his pupils, and put himself in as close a contact as possible with their faculties. This can be accomplished only by his resorting to the most familiar expositions of the truths he desires to communicate, and, as it were, entering into familiar conversation with them:
Justice requires me to add, that these improvements are due chiefly to the present rector, Dr Schmitz, a native of Germany, and trained under the Prussian system of education. His appointment to that office was highly creditable to the patrons ; but they lose the best advantages which they might derive from his intelligence and experience, by refusing to sanction necessary reforms of the constitution of the school, and the adoption of a curriculum of instruction calculated to place it in harmony with the real wants of the age.

In the following letter to Sir James Clark, dated 21st December 1837, Dr Combe states his opinion about

RETIRING ALLOWANCES TO PROFESSORS.

" I am averse to the system of retiring pensions. They are against the order of nature, and lead to many more evils than they cure.

330	RETIRING ALLOWANCES TO PROFESSORS.

Without them individual cases of hardship and distress occur, but with them come many evils, both of improvidence and negligence during the active period of life. Pay a man well for what he does, but leave his own futurity to his own care. The latter is that which everywhere prevails in ordinary society, and thence springs much of the active industry, and provident care, and welldoing, which one meets with in the world. If a physician becomes old and useless, his patients provide no retiring allowance for him, nor do they consider themselves ‘thirled' nolentes volentes to his mill. The same holds with the lawyer, the artist, the merchant, and the shopkeeper. Then why make a professor an exception ; him who has had the advantage over them of a certain income ? No doubt, a professor might break down with bad health and lose his income. That would be a sad misfortune for him; but what class of society is exempt from the fate of humanity ? Take my own case. I started in 1822‑3, with an income of about £50 the first year, which, in 1830‑1, had risen beyond £.700, and had I kept well, would, I believe, have been now nearer £1500. Bad health came: instead of receiving £700,1 received )zothiny for two years, and expended within £200 or £300 of all I possessed in regaining some share of health. In one sense this was hard; but what right had I to complain, or to ask a retiring pension from my patients ? How many around me in all professions run the same course !"

On 5th June 1849, the magistrates of Edinburgh adopted a plan for providing a superannuation fund for the various officers in their employment, which promises to be equally simple and effectual. They resolved, that in all future appointments provision shall be made for the insurance of " a sum of money on the life of each officer in the city's establishment, payable at death, or, at all events, at sixty years of age; so that, in the event of any officer surviving that age, and becoming unfit to discharge the duties of his office, the sum so insured may be converted into a life annuity or superannuated allowance, payable to or for behoof of such officer." The city contributes a sum towards the payment of the premium of insurance, equal to five per cent. per annum on the salaries of all officers admitted to the scheme, each officer contributing the difference between

RETIRING ALLOWANCES TO PROFESSORS.		331

that per‑centage and the amount of the premium, which contribution is retained from his salary quarterly. The whole policies are made payable to the city‑chamberlain for the time being, and are not attachable by the creditors, nor are they subject to the control of the officer in any way whatever. When an officer attains sixty years of age, if he be still fit for duty, the sum insured is invested to the best advantage in the name of the chamberlain, and the interest is paid to the officer. When he becomes unfit for duty, at, or subsequently to sixty, the sum insured is applied in purchasing an alimentary annuity for him, which is not attachable by his creditors or assignable by himself. When he dies before sixty, the sum insured “shall be disposed of in such manner as in the circumstances of each case may be deemed proper, but so that the magistrates and council shall have no further charge of the proceeds; due regard being always had to any desire, in this respect, which may be expressed in any writing left by any deceased officer." This regulation does not extend to the professors, teachers, and clergymen appointed to their offices by the magistrates and council; but the principle of requiring each of these public servants to insure a sum on his own life sufficient to provide a retiring allowance for him at sixty years of age, appears equitable to the individual, and necessary for the protection of the interests of the public.
The following letter, dated 6th January 1838, addressed to an eminent publisher, affords a commentary on the maxim expressed in the foregoing letter, that every man is bound to provide for himself. The gentleman to whom the letter was addressed, probably considered that the increased sales consequent on lowness of price, would render a book actually more profitable to the author than it would prove if sold at a higher

332	LETTER ON CHEAP EDITIONS OF BOOKS.

rate; and although Dr Combe controverts this view in reference to his own work, it is a point fairly open to difference of opinion:—

" You again allude to my writing for your Series of ‑‑‑, and to this request I again reply,
" First, That I can write well and comfortably only when following the dictates of my own judgment, unfettered by any plan or wishes of another.

" Secondly, That de facto my plan will be more comprehensive, and, consequently, more extensive, than that contemplated by you ; and, therefore, not what your Series requires. And,
" Thirdly, That from the low price at which your Series is sold, you cannot afford to remunerate me at the same rate as the public will, supposing that I successfully execute my plan ; and that if I am right in this conclusion, the giving my treatise to you for publication would be, not simply a benevolent exertion for the public good, but in reality a contribution on my part to the public of so many pounds, shillings, and pence as I can honestly gain by publishing it myself, over what you can allow me.
Now, if I know myself, I have written, and still write, habitually under a strong desire to be useful to my kind ; but considering that uncertain health cuts me off from the emoluments of ordinary practice, that the same cause cut me off from a fixed income of ‑hundred pounds a year, attended by very little outlay, and a positive prospect of honourable advancement, if not distinction ; and that (although now by care comparatively well) I cannot count on useful activity for even a single month, or week, or day, and consequently may be thrown back at any time upon such pecuniary resources as I have already secured,‑I think you will admit that, while bound to be benevolent, I am not less bound to advance my own interests by every legitimate means, and, consequently, to make the most I can of my writings, before giving place to public considerations alone.
" My view of the matter is simply this. There is a large number of mothers and parents who have both the desire and the means to purchase a good book of this kind even at 4s. or 5s. ; and there is nothing wrong, but the reverse, in supplying such a class of readers, before bringing it to the level of a poorer order. Had I followed your advice, for example, and brought out a 2s. edition of my Physiology at the end of the third edition, do you think that I should have derived as much advantage from it as from the sale of the 5000 copies since taken up at 7s. 6d. 9 especially when you add to this that

EFFECTS OF DIFFERENT STYLES OF PREACHING. 333

I have still the cheap field in reserve ? If, on the other hand, I have gained more by the 7s. 6d. edition, is it not evident that the sum lost by resorting at that time to the 2s. one, would have been neither more nor less than a substantial contribution of £100, £200, or some other sum, by Dr A. Combe, to the public, which, in the space of two years, would be better proportioned to the Duke of Buccleugh's means than to mine ?
" From these considerations, you will, I trust, perceive that it is from no backwardness to assist you in a most excellent undertaking, and from no undue selfishness, that I would probably decline your proposal, even if I could fulfil your wishes more easily than I know to be possible for me. Your liberality I never doubt; but even were the other difficulty removed, you could not afford the same remuneration on a very cheap book, which I may, if successful, obtain from one of an ordinary price."

In March 1838, Dr Combe was appointed one of the Physicians Extraordinary to the Queen in Scotland, an office of honour, but without duties or emolument.
On pages 33 and 34, he describes the effect which the stern Calvinistic doctrines in which he was educated produced on his mind in youth ; and the following letter, dated 12th March 1838, addressed to a sincerely religious lady, indicates his mature views on the same subject :—

"I cannot resist sending for your perusal an American paper, forwarded to me by my brother William, and containing ‘A Sermon,' which delights me by its pure, and comprehensive, and directly practical spirit. It embraces man's whole nature, such as God has made it, instead of inculcating the extravagant activity of merely two or three feelings. Its views are those of Phrenology throughout, and it is the first instance in which I have seen it effectively applied. It interests me farther as bearing upon a point I formerly discussed with you‑the superiority of eliciting good by direct appeals to the moral and religious sentiments, and leaving the propensities with as little undue stimulus as possible. The description in the sermon of the inadequacy of fear and other inferior passions to serve as practical motives to goodness, seems to me to be peculiarly excellent, and I shall not try to describe the pain I have suffered in listening to such denunciations from the pulpit as it condemns. I confess that ultimately I found it impossible to sit and hear even Dr ‑,without, not only

334 EFFECTS OF OBEDIENCE TO THE ORGANIC LAWS.

pain, but positive moral injury; while I could not but feel how deeply attractive and beneficial his influence might have been had he directed his preaching to elevate and purify, rather than farther to degrade human nature. That the very best of mankind are sinful creatures, is too true ; but, after all, we are the creatures and children of a beneficent God, and I cannot help feeling as if blasphemy or sacrilege were uttered, when the work of His hands and mind is reviled as irretrievably wicked."

In April 1838, Dr Combe was consulted by a lady residing in a distant part of the country about her health, and recommended to her a strict and persevering observance of the laws of hygiène applicable to her case. She misunderstood his meaning, and wrote to him stating objections. This led him to address to her a letter, dated 3d

1838,

ON THE RESULTS OF OBEDIENCE TO THE ORGANIC LAWS.

"In your remarks on my statement, that the highest health will always be on the side of those who most rigidly fulfil the organic laws, you omit two very important and significant words, viz., ‘ cteteris paribus,' i. e., ‘all other circumstances being equal.' To test the proposition, you must suppose another person in precisely similar circumstances with your own, similar in constitution and in health ;and while you obey, let her disobey the organic laws. My assertion is, that then you, and not she, would enjoy the highest health. I never meant that the at best imperfect obedience which man can yield, will insure absolute health under all circumstances of constitution, &c. You yourself are an example of an infirmity of constitution from a period of life too early to have been the result of intentional disobedience on your own part. You have apparently inherited (not disease, as you say, but) a peculiar delicacy of constitution, which makes the hurtful agency of external influences more than usually great, and which, consequently, would render the attainment of absolute health, by any obedience, more than usually difficult; but on consideration, you must perceive that this constitutes no real exception. I have seen cases more or less analogous to yours; but in all of them I could, after full examination, trace a cause for the delicacy either in the constitutional peculiarities of the parents, their temporary state of health after marriage, great anxiety suffered by the mother during pregnancy, mismanagement, or some other circumstance

LETTER TO MR RICHARD CARMICHAEL.		335

after birth, which fully explained the infirm health of the child. In such cases, even the most enlightened obedience may fail to secure future health for the person ; but it will unquestionably secure a larger share of it than if the laws be neglected. Besides, I see every day more reason to confide in the advantages of persevering obedience, even in apparently discouraging cases, as the result is slow but sure improvement. Of this I can also speak from personal experience, in being now not only alive, but in the possession of a degree of health, not robust certainly, but sufficient to afford me much enjoyment, and to allow me to lead a life of some usefulness at least.
" I notice your misconception of the proposition at so much length, that you may not, by an erroneous estimate of it, be discouraged from attending to circumstances which may really be influential for your improvement."

On the 13th May 1838, Dr Combe wrote to the late Mr Richard Carmichael, of Dublin, expressing his high appreciation of an Essay which that gentleman had just published in the Dublin Medical Journal on the treatment of dyspeptic cases, and on the origin of gallstones. The greater portion of the letter is too technical for general readers, but its conclusion is in the following terms :—

" Your theory of the origin of gall‑stones is very ingenious, and, what is still better, apparently correct. At least I can see no valid objection to it ; and I value it as leading to efficient prevention. Indeed, the whole scope of your essay delights me, from the just weight you attach to the organic laws, and the able way in which you inculcate them. Were they more kept in view as foundations for observation and reasoning, medicine would become at once more philosophic, certain, and efficient. My faith in the power of Nature, duly aided by the physician, is very great; and I never see any one taking matters into his own hands, regardless of her wishes, without pain and compassion.
" Had not the over‑exhaustion, from unremitting exertion of your nervous system and brain, a great deal to do with the subsequent sciatica and digestive derangement ? It seems to me that it had, by directly impairing the nervous health. Had the brain been less severely taxed, probably you might have escaped with only digestive disorder and gall‑stones, and struck off the sciatica from the list of penalties. What do you think ?"

336	VISIT TO BELGIUM AND GERMANY.

The second paragraph refers to a severe attack of sciatica under which Mr Carmichael suffered for many months, and from which he ultimately recovered by a visit to the baths of Barège, and by passing the subsequent winter in Italy, where he afforded the valuable assistance to Dr Combe mentioned on page 211.‑*
Immediately after the date of this letter Dr Combe revisited Belgium; and, writing from Cologne on 13th June, to Mrs Henry Siddons, he says:
‑

" By some means or other, I was about the busiest man in Brussels during my stay there, and had no leisure to think either about home, absent friends, or anything else. Much as I like to know what is doing in the world, I have only once seen the English papers since I left London, and can scarcely tell whether England is still an island or a continent. Do not, however, ask too narrowly what I was about, for I can scarcely tell. Every day I went to see the Royal Family at Lacken, and spent from two to three hours visiting one after the other, and then reporting to and ending with the King. On my return I had either old friends to call for, old patients to visit who were wanting new advice, or new friends to receive, or business calls to make on the King's physician and secretary ; and then in the evening to dine at the palace table, and perhaps go afterwards to the opera.
What a noble river is the Rhine, gliding noiselessly by in one mighty flood, like time flowing on to eternity! I cannot look upon it from my window without going back in thought to the changeableness of man and to its unchangeableness. The Romans saw it many centuries ago as I now see it, and where are they‑they who thought the world their own ? Generations yet unborn will look upon it in their turn, and cover its waters with their thousand barks, when we, the

* It is painful to record the death of this most skilful practitioner and estimable man, which happened on 9th June 1849, while this work was in the press. He not merely possessed a first‑rate talent of diagnosis, but was an original thinker, and successfully penetrated into the causes of the phenomena which he observed. He had the merit of being the first to explain the true theory of the origin of scrofula, and his Essay, alluded to by Dr Combe, is also distinguished by originality of thought. His dispositions were as kind and generous as his intellect was penetrating and capacious. He mentioned to me in conversation, that he entertained no doubt that the attack of sciatica was the consequence of over‑exertion of the brain, accompanied by too long intervals of fasting between breakfast and dinner.

VISIT TO BELGIUM AND GERMANY.		337

mighty we of to‑day shall lie forgotten as if we had never been. Such is time‑such the day and the hour in which we live or die ; and yet how we bustle about its minor interests and selfish comforts, as if we were to occupy our posts for ages ! The world, however, is not all filled with small and selfish cares, but, as it moves on, every day brings its own changes and its own improvements both in man and in machinery; and I cannot help fancying what Coesar would have thought had he seen steamboats ploughing that noble river. But the shades of evening fall apace, and the eye wanders to the mellowed and checkered landscape, now clearing up after the rain ; so here I pause.
" Bonn, 14th June.‑The evening is splendid, and the face of nature luxuriant and fresh as at summer dawn. In wandering out towards the country, a lovelier scene could scarcely meet the eye ; and as every path swarms with its gaily‑dressed crowds (being the fête Dieu), the world and mankind seem for once so much in harmony, that the spirit rejoices as it surveys them both. I have seen comparatively nothing of the Rhine, and was told it would disappoint me. Were I to turn home to‑morrow, I should still say it had not disappointed me, but surpassed what I expected. It recalls, like an occurrence of yesterday, a truly pathetic scene which marked the first day of my entrance into Switzerland nineteen years ago,‑the parting salute and song dying on the gale of three hundred Swiss emigrants leaving their country for the Brazils, in one of the finest days that ever shone, and floating down the stream till they vanished from sight,‑an emblem of their after fate. But I must not become sentimental in my old age, and therefore change the subject.
" We witnessed to‑day in Cologne a very large procession in honour of the fête Dieu, the music and attributes of which must have had a powerful effect on the young minds engaged in it, but which I felt as almost sickening, from its gross superstition and approach to blasphemy. We had afterwards a very agreeable drive up to Bonn, where we arrived at half‑past three. Having had a letter to deliver to the Princes of Saxe‑Coburg, who are studying here, and whom the King wished me to see, I went forthwith to call; but it being a festa, they were unfortunately in the country. In the morning, however, I shall see them between seven and eight, before I leave for Coblentz. I next called for Mr Wyse's family, but missed them also. I met him in London, when he begged me to see them.
" My excursion so far has been fortunate and pleasant. Nothing could be more kind than the reception given me by the King and Queen of the Belgians. I saw a great deal of both their Majesties and of the two Princes, and was much gratified with all. The good Queen quite overwhelmed me the last two or three times I went, by expressing 1

338	VISIT TO BELGIUM AND GERMANY.

how grateful she felt for my kindness and interest in them, and hoping I would not forget them; nor, in truth, was the King less unreserved or less warm: after telling me that my opinions gave him great comfort, because he had confidence in them, he expressed a hope that I would return, as he could not afford to lose his hold of me ; calling me, as he said so and shook me cordially by the hand, ‘ Signor Dottore mio.' I mention all this, not as a matter of boast, but as traits which I conceive highly amiable in them.
" One day I had a very interesting conversation with the King about the treatment of criminals and the causes of crime, apropos to my opinion of the penitentiary at Ghent, which I had gone to see. It contains 1200 prisoners; and I told him I had been struck much more than in any other prison with the miserably low and contracted foreheads, and defective organisation, of a large proportion of them, accompanied as it was by very low intelligence; and I pointed out the relation of this fact to the origin of crime. It was a subject he had evidently considered maturely, and he regretted that legislators so frequently made laws for facts, without regard either to their external causes, or to their internal sources in human nature. He is evidently more and more liked by the Belgians; and I met some Orange people, who concur now in the almost universal impression in Belgium, that he has saved them from destruction, and carried them to great prosperity, by his prudence, uprightness, and conciliating spirit.
" 15th, Coblentz.‑Here we are, after a delightful journey, in a lovely clay, closed by magnificent flashes of lightning, which play upon the rivers and hills as I write, and give sublimity to the beautiful. I was kindly welcomed by the Princes this morning, who expressed regret that I did not arrive early yesterday, that I might have accompanied them on an excursion with a party to the Drachenfels, which turned out very pleasant. They asked me to spend the day ; but as I could not, they gave me much excellent counsel about making the most of my time, and even about good and bad inns, and were altogether very kind."

In a letter dated Edinburgh, 13th July 1838, addressed to George Combe, then at Coul, Dr Combe, after giving some details of his visit to the Royal Family at Brussels, and to the Princes of Coburg at Bonn, adds‑

" Of course, it was highly gratifying to me to be treated with so much condescension and goodness; but I can truly say, that at least

VISIT TO BELGIUM AND GERMANY.		339

half of the pleasure arose from finding the better feelings of our nature thus exhibiting themselves unchecked by station, or the powerful misleading influences to which such rank is inevitably and constantly exposed. The favourable impression which appears to have been made by me on their Majesties arose, I believe, from their recognising the interest which I felt in themselves and their children as hadividuals, apart from their station, and from speaking honestly what I thought. My mind was so full of the subject, that, in my earnestness to make the desired impression, I often forgot the accidental adjunct of rank. Of course I always spoke with great respect, because I felt it; but I mean to say that I often forgot the formal phrases in which, in a court, respect is clothed. My visit was one of great pleasure, and I hope of some usefulness also, as I was in great vigour of mind and body."

He mentions that he prolonged his excursion to Ems, Wiesbaden, Mentz, and Heidelberg; and thence to Cassel, Hanover, and Bremen, where he remained some days with his esteemed friend Dr Hirschfeld. He took a steam‑ship from Hamburgh to Leith, where he arrived safely, but, as usual with him, after a tedious and disagreeable voyage.

In a letter to Mrs Maconochie, dated 19th November 1839, he writes:—

" I attended Prince Albert (of whom the newspapers speak so much), and his brother the Prince of Coburg, when resident in Brussels, and received three beautiful diamond studs from them at parting. Prince Albert is a frank, generous‑minded, apd handsome young man."

340

MEDICAL EDUCATION.

CHAPTER XXI.

LETTER BY DR COMBE TO SIR JAMES CLARK ON MEDICAL EDUCATION.

THE following letter, dated London, 22d November 1849, from Sir James Clark to George Combe, explains the circumstances which led Dr Combe to address Sir James on the subject of medical education.
" I quite approve of your publishing, in the Memoir of Dr Combe's life, his admirable letter on medical education. It was addressed to me while the Senate of the University of London was occupied in considering a course of study for the graduates of that university. The members of the Medical Faculty, before finally deciding upon the amount of general and professional instruction and course of study to be required of the Bachelors and Doctors of Medicine, were desirous of obtaining the opinions of their medical brethren. With this view, as chairman of the Medical Committee appointed by the Senate to draw up a medical curriculum, I applied to some of the most distinguished physicians and surgeons of this country. Among the valuable suggestions which we received, your brother's letter was conspicuous for the enlightened and comprehensive views which it contained. He had evidently thought much and deeply on the subject; and the publication of his matured opinion, in a matter of such importance to the public as a sound system of medical education, cannot fail to be of the highest utility. The

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341

medical student cannot have a better guide during the progress of his studies than this letter; and I may add, that it would be well if every teacher of medicine .would make himself acquainted with the enlightened views, on the principles upon which medical education should be conducted, contained in it."
The letter and twenty‑one others were printed for the use of " the Committee of the Faculty of Medicine" of the London University, charged with preparing a Report on an improved Curriculum for that Institution, but it was never published; and it is hoped that its intrinsic merits, and the recommendation of Sir James Clark, will appear satisfactory reasons for introducing it into the present work.

" EDINBURGH, November 2, 1838.

46 MY DEAR SIR JAMES,‑‑Having now carefully considered the I Report of the Committee of the Faculty of Medicine on the subject of granting Degrees in Médicine,' I proceed, in compliance with your request, to give you my opinion of it. It appears to me that the first thing to be done in judging of the propriety of the course of education there recommended, is to determine clearly, and never to lose sight of, the object for which it is designed; because very different opinions will necessarily be formed of it according to the notion which each entertains of the purposes which the Committee had in view.
“If the object of the Committee is to devise a scheme of education by which young men may be fitted in the shortest possible time for becoming mere traders in medicine at the earliest possible age, then the course of study sketched in the Report is undoubtedly far too extensive and scientific; whereas if it is wished, as I take for granted it is, to secure for the student such a

342

MEDICAL EDUCATION.

kind and amount of education as shall best qualify him for the enlightened and faithful exercise of a liberal and difficult profession, and raise him to that status and influence in society which high scientific attainments and gentlemanly feelings and conduct must ever command, and which it is equally the interest of all that medical men should enjoy, then I confess my inability to fix upon any part of the proposed curriculum which could with propriety be dispensed with.
" Admitting, then, the desirableness of such a comprehensive and liberal scheme of education as that recommended by the Committee, the next point for consideration is, whether the whole of it can be efficiently gone through by young men of average mental capacities within the period assigned to it, viz., before the age of twenty‑one. But in reality this question merges in one of still greater consequence, which is too much lost sight of in the discussion, and to which I would therefore direct special attention, viz., Is the preliminary and professional education required by the proposed curriculum calculated to fit the student for becoming in due time an enlightened and efficient practitioner, and would his fitness and efficiency be impaired were any portion of it omitted? If on both points the answer be in the affirmative, it follows, as a matter of justice to the public, whose health and lives are at stake, as well as to the future practitioner himself, that the whole of that education ought to be gone through, whatever number of years it may occupy; and that it would be a wretched and culpable economy, which, under such circumstances, should seek to curtail the time at the expense of the practitioner's qualifications. If any law of nature or unrepealable Act of the Imperial Parliament existed, rendéring it obligatory on all medical students to complete their preliminary education

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before their eighteenth, and their professional before their twenty‑second year, it would be a valid ground for urging that the proposed course of study could not be completed within the time specified. But as no such obstacle exists either in rerum natures or in the law of the land, it seems to me that the only argument which ought to have any weight against the course of study, would be one skewing that it is needlessly extensive, and pointing out what portions of it (night be omitted without in any way impairing the qualifications and usefulness of the practitioner. But this has not been done.
Looking to qualification, then, as the real object to be aimed at, the curriculum should be judged of by its fitness to secure the amount of qualification considered requisite; and under this conviction, I have always attached much less importance than is usually done, to the abstract possibility or impossibility of finishing the compulsory part of professional education within a given time, and have long thought that more harm than good has been done by fixing too early a limit. The intelligent exercise of medicine requires not only a greater extent of scientific and general attainments, but also readier comprehensiveness of mind, and greater accuracy of thinking and maturity of judgment, than perhaps any other profession; and these are qualities rarely to be met with in early youth. So generally is this felt to be the case, that it is an all but universal practice for those who are really devoted to the profession to continue their studies for two or three years, or even more, after having gone through the prescribed curriculum, and obtained their diplomas; and those only follow a different course who are pressed by necessity to encounter the responsibilities of practice, whether satisfied or not with their own qualifications: and

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MEDICAL EDUCATION.

if this be the case, does it not amount to a virtual recognition, that the period now assigned by the curriculum is too short, and ought to be extended ? In point of fact, this later period of study is felt by all to be by far the most instructive of the whole, because now the mind is comparatively matured, and able to draw its own inferences from the facts and observations of which it could before make little or no use; and it is precisely those who enter upon practice too early who are most apt to become routine practitioners, and to do the least for the advancement of medicine as a science. Accordingly, if we trace the history of those who have attained eminence in the profession, we shall find that they are almost without exception men who have continued their studies to a maturer age than that fixed by the regulations, before entering upon practice; and that very few indeed of those who start at twenty‑one succeed in gaining the confidence of the public till after the lapse of several years, and still fewer succeed in becoming scientific practitioners. The common expression in regard to such a person is, that ‘ he is too young,' I he can have no experience;' &c., and he is quietly left to continue his studies till greater solidity of character and maturity of judgment begin to attract those who before distrusted him.
" If I am at all correct in these views, and the course of study recommended by the Committee is really calculated to improve the qualifications of the practitioners, as I firmly believe it to be, I can see no reason whatever for abridging it by any omissions, merely that the period which it will occupy may be shortened. At the same time I may state it as my opinion, without claiming any great weight for it, that young men of fair abilities and industrious habits may, without difficulty, go through the whole prescribed course before the age

MEDICAL EDUCATION.

345

of twenty‑one, taking for granted that an accurate general knowledge of the collateral sciences is all that is meant to be insisted on; as I cannot suppose that the Committee expect such an acquaintance with geometry, natural philosophy, logic, and moral philosophy, as we meet with only in those who devote their exclusive attention to them. I, therefore, can see no objection to twenty‑one being fixed upon as the earliest age at which candidates shall be admitted to examination. But I believe that there are many young men of less quickness of apprehension and less favourable mental endowments who will not be able to embrace so much with equal ease; and as applied to them, the fault of the curriculum is, not that it is too extensive, but that by assuming twentyone as the standard age, it crowds a greater number of new subjects upon theta at the beginning than they can easily master, and thus risks their falling into confusion, and becoming discouraged by their inability to keep up with the number and pace of their teachers. It is true that the curriculum does not force them either to begin at seventeen or to embrace a given number of subjects each year; but the moral effects are nearly the same as if it did, because all are naturally anxious to do as others do, and to follow the plan laid down for their guidance. Even as regards the most talented, I consider it an evil to proceed over new ground at too quick a pace. It is not the mere knowledge of a fact that makes it useful. It must be digested and become a part and parcel of the mental stores to give it practical value; and this important process is incompatible with rapid successive acquirements. Hence one reason why we so often see extensively informed men very deficient in the power of applying their knowledge.
" While, therefore, I would consider the course of

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31EDICAL EDUCATION.

study solely with reference to its intrinsic fitness to accomplish the end in view‑the proper qualification of the practitioner‑and would not refuse to confer a degree on a properly qualified person at the age of twenty‑one, I should rather encourage the student to devote a greater number of years to the acquisition of general and professional knowledge than is usually done; and, in this point of view, the two years' additional study required for the degree of Doctor of Medicine seems to me a very judicious regulation.
Having thus stated my opinion in regard to the proposed course of study, considered as a whole, I shall now offer a few remarks on some of the details of which it is composed.
" From the Report specifying so minutely the subdivisions of each branch of science, instead of, as is usually done in curricula, giving merely the single head under which they are all included, the preliminary education required by the Committee has, at first sight, a very formidable appearance; of which, however, it becomes almost entirely divested on closer examination. Thus, while no less than thirty‑seven items are mentioned under the head of Natural Philosophy, exciting alarm by their numerical array, it appears that not only the whole thirty‑seven, but many more, are quietly admitted into other curricula under the simple denomination of I Natural Philosophy.' Individually, I think that the Committee has acted judiciously as well as honestly in thus specifying what they want; but their plain dealing may perhaps be the means of raising up hasty objections against their plans. For taking the preliminary education even in its fair sense, it will probably be considered by many as too extensive, and beyond the power of young men to acquire before the age of eighteen; and if we suppose that exclusive atten‑

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tion is to be devoted to Latin and Greek for as great a number of years as has hitherto been the custom, it will be impossible not to agree in this opinion as regards lads of ordinary abilities, and especially as regards an acquaintance with logic and moral philosophy. Assuming the mere elements of these two subjects to be all that is required, I think that, even under the present system of teaching, a clever boy might study the whole within the prescribed time without any great difficulty; and it may fairly be said, that none but clever youths should be dedicated to an intellectual and scientific profession. That even a youth of moderate talent might go through the whole in a way to pass his examination I believe, but certainly not in a way to be of permanent advantage to himself; and the latter alone can be the object of the Committee. As soon, however, as the classics shall be generally taught on the more rational plan now adopted in some of our best schools, viz., beginning them at a somewhat maturer age, and dedicating to them about one‑half of the daily time hitherto given, so as at once to keep attention more fully alive, and leave time and mental energy enough to embrace other subjects at the same time,‑then I think there will be no difficulty whatever in acquiring the requisite amount of knowledge at the age mentioned. In this opinion I am borne out by the experience of the Hill Street Institution of this city, where the classics have been taught on this plan for several years, and which is now attended by 250 pupils. French, German, drawing, history, composition, geography, and mathematics, are taught to such as desire them, during the hours set free by the restriction of the Latin and Greek; and it is found that the progress made in the latter is quite as great as when double the number of hours were devoted to them. The activity and energy of the

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boys are better sustained, and the power of application to the other branches of knowledge is almost pure gain. Much attention is also given to English literature and composition; and history and geography are taught as much as possible incidentally to what is read. In the High School and Edinburgh Academy, the amount of other knowledge imparted during and along with classical education is now much greater than it used to be, and with decidedly beneficial results to the general mind.
" Considering the scheme of preliminary education proposed by the Committee on its own abstract merits, it does not seem to me too extensive. A broad basis of general information is indispensable in a liberal profession like that of medicine, and the course chalked out appears to be well calculated to prepare the mind for entering upon the study with advantage, both because it will strengthen and expand the intellect itself, and also because it will lead the student to keep in view the close relation which subsists between all branches of science, and to study nature in a comprehensive spirit; the common fault being that, from the want of such general principles, each pursues his own path of science as exclusively, and in as isolated a point of view, as if its objects had nothing in common with the rest of nature, instead of all existing under the same general laws, and presenting innumerable points of affinity to each other, so that no ogle can be completely understood without knowing something of the rest.
" The only thing of which I doubt the propriety is, requiring the study of logic and moral philosophy at so early an age. For though a young man before eighteen may easily acquire a sufficient acquaintance with one or two books on these subjects, such as Whately and Paley, to be able to answer questions readily, I am quite con‑

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winced that his doing so will be the result merely of an intellectual effort in which memory will be exercised much more than judgment, and that the subjects will not become really useful to him like those which he feels and thoroughly understands, but will slip from him the moment his examination is at an end, and probably leave a distaste for them ever after. To logic, so far as connected with the structure of language, there can be no objection at that age; but as an abstract branch of science I regard it, in its proper development, as fit only for a more advanced period of life. The whole basis and superstructure of moral philosophy, too, imply for their appreciation a practical knowledge of human nature, and of man's position in society, of his proper aims and duties, and of his political situation, which it is impossible for a mere youth to possess; and, in the absence of acquaintance with, and interest in the real subjects, to train the mind to the use of words and phrases descriptive of them (but to him without correct meaning), is likely to be more injurious than beneficial. A man must have seen and felt some of the perplexities of his destiny, and begun to reflect upon them in his own mind, before he can take an intelligent interest in their discussion. To reason about them sooner, is like reasoning without data; and besides, as the powers of reflection are always the latest in arriving at maturity, we may fairly infer that Nature meant the knowledge and experience to come first. If, however, a merely superficial acquaintance with logic and moral philosophy is all that is required, this objection disappears; but then another‑the cui bono ?‑comes in its place, which will not be so easily set aside.
“Do not misunderstand me, however; so far from objecting to these subjects being included, I object only

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to their being brought in at too early a period to admit of advantage being derived from them. If there is one fault greater than another, and one source of error more prolific than another, in medical investigations, it is the absence of a consistent and philosophic mode of ‑Proceeding. and no greater boon could be conferred upon medicine, as a science, than to render its cultivators familiar with the laws or principles by which inquiry ought to be directed. I therefore regard what I should term a system of Medical Logic as of inestimable value in the education of the practitioner; but I think that the proper time for it would be after the student had acquired a competent extent of knowledge, and a certain maturity of mind. At present no such subject is taught, and each is left to grope his own way according to his own lights and circumstances; and hence the infinity of opinion and partial views taken of the same subject by those to whom the student looks up for guidance and advice; and hence, I would add, in no small degree, the slow pace at which medicine advances compared with other sciences. The student is put in possession of each of the elements, as it were, of his profession, but each is presented to him, separately, and he is nowhere instructed in the art of combining them for a common purpose, or in the relations which they bear to each other, although these last are really the only objects for which the instruction is desirable.
“In regard to moral philosophy, also, I would make a similar remark. I consider an acquaintance with it essential to the well‑informed practitioner. The medical man has not only duties to his patients, to society, and to himself, to perform beyond the mere act of prescribing, the true bearing of which he cannot understand without a knowledge of the moral and mental

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constitution of man; but in the treatment of almost every disease, and especially those of the large and important class of mental and nervous affections, he cannot advance a step without his attention being arrested by the mutual influence of mind and body, and the necessity of knowing something more than is generally taught of the philosophy of human nature, and its relations to the external world. But here, again, it is obvious that it is only after having acquired the requisite elementary knowledge that such a course of instruction can be rightly ‑understood and appreciated. Its proper place, then, ought, in my opinion, to be towards the end of the curriculum, and not, as is proposed, at its beginning. There may no doubt be a difficulty in bringing in such subjects, as they are now taught, towards the end of a professional education; but if they were taught with a special reference to medicine, they might be made to constitute two of the most valuable and directly practical of the whole. Even as they are taught, they might, with propriety, be required as a qualification for the degree of Doctor in Medicine, in strict accordance with the regulation requiring an acquaintance with mental affections.
“Upon the whole, then, I incline to think it would be better to omit logic and moral philosophy from the preliminary education than to retain them where they would be acquired by a mere exercise of memory without any perception of their actual value or manifold applications. But at the same time I consider a modification of them as applied to medicine to be extremely wanted as a complement to professional education; and however much individual branches of medicine may be advanced, I do not think it possible that it can assume its due place as a science till something is done to impart to it a more liberal and philosophical character,

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Or, in other words, till it is cultivated in a higher and more comprehensive spirit. The mere addition of subjects to the curriculum will not suffice to accomplish the desired improvement, but much may be done by greater unity of purpose and a better direction‑or, what is the same thing, by taking philosophy to assist and guide our efforts.
“Another reason against making logic and moral philosophy imperative in the preliminary education, and which ought perhaps to be stated, is, that they are at present taught only in universities, and that I consider it extremely desirable that the preliminary education should not be of a nature to necessitate the removal of a student from under his parent's roof before he is fit to enter upon professional pursuits, and before his character and habits are to some extent formed. With the above exceptions, all the other preliminary branches can be acquired in almost any of our larger towns, and at a reasonable expense :—but impose conditions implying early removal to a university, and immediately the whole affair assumes a more serious aspect in point of both morals and money.
" In regard to languages, I attach much importance to a command of German and French,‑Inuch more so than to Greek, at least to a profound knowledge of Greek. The study of able foreign authors enlarges the mind, destroys many prejudices, and imparts a tendency to form opinions more upon real data than upon
,mere authority; and the student who enjoys fair opportunities of instruction can have little difficulty in acquiring one or both.
" A general acquaintance with natural philosophy and mathematics is not less desirable, both for furnishing the mind with useful facts and for training to the accurate observation of phenomena and their reference

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to general laws,‑thereby obviating the propensity to exclusiveness and isolation of subjects which seem to me to be among the greatest impediments to the progress of medicine.
" Coming now to the proposed course of professional study, I see much to commend and little to disapprove of. It is comprehensive and well arranged, and, according to my view, wants only a connecting link to make it available. The introduction of comparative anatomy, general pathology, and hygiène, and the separation of therapeutics from their connection with either physiology or materia medica, are manifest improvements, which cannot fail to have excellent effects. The utility of comparative anatomy, especially if taught with reference to the general principles of physiology, will. consist not only in the wide range of interesting facts which it opens up, but in the exhibition of the organic modifications,‑wonderful equally from their simplicity and efficacy,‑by which the same general function is fulfilled under everyvariety of circumstances, and which it is impossible to contemplate without enlarging our views of the human economy, and increasing both our resources and our powers of thought.
	" The introduction of general pathology,		and the
separation of therapeutics, also strongly recommend
themselves, on due reflection, not only as affording
directly useful information not communicated in any
other course, but as well calculated to obviate that nar
row and hurtful exclusiveness of thinking and pursuit
which is at present the bane of medicine. The subjects
of both are too important and extensive to admit of
their properly constituting portions of other courses.
At one time I was of opinion that general pathology
should be taught in the practice of physic class ; but
it is not so taught, and subsequent observation and re
		z

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flection have satisfied me that it is impossible to do so with justice to either, while the latter may be taught far more easily and efficiently to a student already acquainted with the general doctrine of morbid action. Without this latter information, so much caution will be required to guard the student from hasty inferences, and so much repetition will be rendered necessary, previously to entering upon the study of every individual disease, that much time must be unavoidably lost, and much instruction omitted which might otherwise have been communicated.
" Nearly the same remarks apply to the separation of therapeutics from materia medica and pharmacy, the objects of the two being very distinct from each other. The latter teaches a knowledge of the nature, preparations, combinations, and modes of administration of individual remedies; while the former teaches the general principles by which the application of different classes of remedies to the cure of different morbid states ought to be regulated, and the conditions required to obtain from each the kind of action which is wanted. Or, in other words, pathology and therapeutics have for their objects to teach the general laws or principles which apply to every case of disease and action of a remedy; and if, instead of making the student acquainted with these principles generally, we stop to treat of each of them anew in discussing every individual disease and every individual remedy used in the cure of that disease (which we must do if we do not teach them in separate courses), it is evident that we must not only involve ourselves in fruitless and time‑consuming repetitions, but risk confusing the head of the student with many different and apparently contradictory views of the same thing, and inducing him to suppose that they are as many separate entities. For example, if the

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chemist were obliged to treat anew of the principles of gravitation every time he had occasion to notice the specific gravity of a new elementary body, instead of having the theory of gravitation as applicable to all bodies explained once for all, it is clear that he would be entangled in eternal repetitions which would only perplex the student. In like manner, if we treat first of the general phenomena of disease, we save the necessity of stopping afterwards to fence round every simple statement with the many limitations which would otherwise be essential in applying it to an individual case; while, by the same means, we‑ avoid the risk of mistaking for a general fact what is in reality an accidental occurrence peculiar to the instance before us.
" If, by the conjunction of physiology with general anatomy, the Committee means that physiology should be taught in close connection with organic structure, without entering into the minute details of descriptive or analytic anatomy, which I suppose they do, I consider the course likely to impart a more philosophical character, and consequently much greater interest, to both anatomical and physiological study: but this is so obvious that it requires no remark of mine to illustrate it.
‘1 I am glad to see practical chemistry adopted as a part of the curriculum. It has been taught in Edinburgh for several years, and may be rendered a most useful branch of study. But where it is confined to the mere repetition of the lecturer's public experiments, according to certain formulae and directions, it is apt to become a matter of routine, destitute of any vivifying or improving influence. Where, however, the student is made to work for himself, and is exercised in analysing and seeking real information through the medium of experiments, it is a very valuable course, and fixes

3’5~6 	MEDICAL EDUCATION,

his knowledge in his memory in a way which no lectures or reading can do. But a three months' course of an hour a day will not enable one student out of twenty to advance a step beyond the line of routine. XIechanical dexterity is the slow growth of continued practice, and hence skill in manipulating is only beginning to be acquired when the course is broken off. If, in thé examination for a degree, the student were required to perform some not very complicated analysis, I believe that it would tend much to increase the efficiency of the practical course, from the greater attention which would in that case be directed to it. Thirty lessons, however, cannot be of much use, however attentive the pupil may be.
" With regard to clinical instruction, I feel very doubtful how far it is wise to require it to be begun at the end of the first year. The student cannot then possess knowledge sufficient to appreciate what he sees; and, from not understanding how to proceed, he is apt to become careless in observing, and prejudiced from taking up imperfect views. Time is thus really lost, and bad habits formed. It seems to me that it would be quite early enough to begin at the end of the second winter, if not at the end of the second year: knowing something by that time of the nature of the healthy functions, and of the general doctrines of pathology and therapeutics, he would come to the bedside better prepared to profit by the opportunity of studying and tracing the progress of disease, and the effects of treatment. But the whole system of clinical instruction requires reformation. Too little is done in directing the student's attention to the features and treatment of ordinary diseases; and it would be well if some preliminary instructions in the art of observing were more generally given. As conducted at present, clinical me‑
17

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357

dicine is of very little use or interest to the great majority of the students; and it seems to me one of those courses into which examinations might be introduced with much benefit. Where there is only one lecture a week, it is almost impossible that the student can derive any advantage from it. Many an acute disease runs its whole course in that time; and once the phenomena are past, it is in vain to attempt to bring them again before the student in the light of, to him, personal experience. Conducted as it might be, the student could scarcely have clinical medicine too early or continue it too long, but at present it is otherwise; and when I recollect the admirable and instructive lectures which Dupuytren gave daily at the Hôtel Dieu, and the interest with which he inspired his pupils, I cannot but long to see some approach made to a better system in' our own schools. This, however, is not the occasion to dilate upon such a subject.
°~ With regard to hygiène, the Committee seems to me entitled to great credit in assigning to it, for the first time, a due place in medical education. It is a subject the real nature and importance of which are, generally speaking, so little understood by professional men, that it is rarely associated in their minds with any purposes of utility, and is not unfrequently mentioned among them with more ridicule than respect."
(Here Dr Combe introduces the substance of his letter to Sir James Clark on hygiène, printed on pages 311‑323. Ile continues) :—
" One word more. It has been said that a separate course of hygiène is not required, because it is substantially included in other courses: I can only say, that although I attended all the medical classes regularly, I never acquired any knowledge of it from any of them, and that on conversing with several young friends

358

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who have lately finished their studies, I have not met with one whose attention has been directed to the kind of knowledge which I consider it the province of hygiène to impart.
" But I have now trespassed so far on your patience that I must hasten to a conclusion, particularly as I have been so often interrupted in writing to you, that I fear you will find this letter confused. The only apology I can offer for the I tediousness' which I have bestowed upon you is, that I know many objections will be raised against rendering hygiène an imperative and separate course,‑and, as I am most firmly persuaded of its importance, I feel bound not only to express my opinion when asked for by you, but to explain a few of the reasons which give me confidence in its soundness. I have long taken a deep interest in the subject of education, both general and professional; and without claiming for my views any greater weight than their abstract merits deserve, I may be permitted to state that they are the results of much observation, and of as much reflection as I am capable of bestowing upon them. With regard to the subject of hygiène in particular, I have devoted much attention to it for many years, and during a long period of professional inactivity, from infirm health, have made it more than ever an object of study, and, in consequence, am only the more deeply impressed with its usefulness and importance, and with the numerous evils arising from its neglect. Having thus complied with your request, and given you in ample detail both my opinions and the grounds on which I entertain them, I leave you to make any use of them you please. Some of them differ from those which I have heard expressed by other professional men; but while I claim no superiority for them as mine, neither do I think that I ought to refrain

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from stating them merely because they are not entertained by others. You wise men of the Senate will attach weight to those only which seem to you well founded; and to you therefore I leave them.
" I had sundry other remarks to offer, but must break off, with again expressing a hope that the Faculty will not be induced by any clamour of insufficiency of time, expense, interests of particular schools, or any similar reason, to give up any part of the improvements they propose to introduce. The one great object ought to be the due qualification of the practitioner; and whatever will contribute to that end ought to be retained, whether it may happen to agree with or differ from the curricula of other universities or licensing bodies. The sooner one uniform system of education and equality of privileges prevails throughout the kingdom the better for all parties; but that uniformity should be obtained by all coming up to a right standard, and not by the highest being cut down to suit the local peculiarities of any school. Schools and colleges are instituted for the benefit of the public, and not for the private advantage of their professors; and if any exist which are not adapted to the wants of the day, there can be no greater hardship in obliging them to undergo the requisite modifications than necessarily attaches to all other men and all other institutions, which must either advance with the age they exist in, or, by falling behind, lose the place they once filled. If in London, for example, only three months' courses and one clinical lecture a week can be had, where six months' courses and three or four lectures are really required, you would defeat the whole scheme were you to cut down your demands to the standard of these teachers merely to meet their present convenience. Your only safety is in fixing yourselves on the broad ground of what is right in itse f ;

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and you may then rest in the full assurance that ere long those whose interests are concerned will adapt themselves to what the public requires of them, or that others will spring up to take their place. The longer I live, the more I am convinced that medical education is too limited and too hurried, rather than too extended; for, after all, four years is but a short time for a mind still immature to be occupied in mastering and digesting so many subjects and so many details. Instead of the curriculum being curtailed, however, I feel assured that ultimately the period of study will be extended. Supposing a young man to be engaged in the acquisition of knowledge and experience till the age of twenty‑three instead of twenty‑one, can it be said that he will then be too old for entering upon independent practice ? or that his mind is even then fully matured, or his stock of knowledge such as to inspire full confidence ? It is in vain to say that young men will not enter the profession if these additions are made. The result would inevitably be to attract a higher class of minds, and to raise the character of the whole profess lion. Education has already been doubled within the last twenty years, and God knows there is as yet no scarcity of medical men in either town or country; and, improve it as you can, there will always be candidates enough to satisfy the public wants. But I must once more have done, and remain," &c.

EXERCISE FOR YOUNG CHILDREN.		361

CHAPTER XXII.

EXERCISE FOR YOUNG CHILDREN.‑STEINHAUER'S STATUE OF THE " SHELL‑GIRL."‑AIONARCIIICAL AND REPUBLICAN INSTITUTIONS.ACCIDENT IN A MAIL‑COACH.‑ON THE CLIMATES BEST ADAPTED FOR PULMONARY COMPLAINTS.‑PUBLICATION OF " A TREATISE ON THE PHYSIOLOGICAL AND MORAL MANAGEMENT OF INFANCY."CHARACTER OF DR COMBE'S WORKS.‑ON THE NECESSITY OF EXERCISING THE NERVOUS SYSTEM.‑RECOLLECTIONS OF FOREIGN TRAVEL. ‑ARTICLE BY DR COMBE ON PHRENOLOGY IN THE BRITISH AND FOREIGN MEDICAL REVIEW.‑REMARKS ON HIS HABITS OF COMPOSITION.‑MORBID EXCITEMENT OF APPREHENSION.

THE following letter, dated 19th July 1838, addressed to Mr A. J. D. D'Orsey, of the Glasgow High School, contains a brief statement of Dr Combe's views of the best kind of

EXERCISE FOR YOUNG CHILDREN.

"For the early age of children at the infant school, I can scarcely say that I would advise any gymnastic apparatus. The organism is then so immature and delicate, that I should much prefer the cultivation of the natural motions of the body to any artificial exercises. I consider the great aims in infant training to be the promotion of physical health, and that moral improvement which results from the active exercise, in a right direction, of the moral powers, or, in other words, the active formation of character. The cultivation of intellect is generally much too prominent an object ; and that of the moral faculties, as exercised in the conduct of the children towards each other and towards their seniors, is too much lost sight of. The playground and garden are excellent fields for eliciting moral manifestations, as well as for cultivating health ; and I would shorten, as far as possible, the period of confinement within doors.

362	STATUE OF " THE SHELL‑GIRL."

" The physical training best adapted to the infant system seems to me to be that which elicits freely the natural movements of the limbs, joints, and trunk, in combination with a healthy and cheerful nervous impulse. Hence various kinds of play with balls, &c., marching (and even running) to the sound of music or in time, using constructive materials, and such kinds of exercise, seem to be best. My inventive faculties are not powerful enough to devise new games or exercises, but the principle at that age is to follow the indications of nature, and cultivate the graceful and efcient performance of easy and natural movements. 112r and Mrs Lowe, of this city, have greatly improved the physical training of their pupils, by substituting graceful exercises with the Indian sceptres, marching with a light weight on the head, &c., for the violent and distorting practices lately prevalent. A change of this kind, with more regard to moral action in the open air, and less to intellectual book‑teaching and confinement, is what is wanted."

In a letter to Dr Hirschfeld of Bremen, dated 29th July 1838, Dr Combe writes:—" That beautiful statue by the young Bremen sculptor still haunts my imagination ;" and he suggests that its value should be ascertained, and that, to encourage the artist, a sum should be raised by subscription to purchase it, and that then the subscribers should draw lots for it among themselves. He offers to subscribe £10, and to endeavour to procure other contributions. This communication is creditable to Dr Combe's taste and judgment; for the statue in question was that of " The ShellGirl" (Das Muschel Mädchen), by Steinhauer. It was subsequently purchased by Mr Lürmann, a merchant of Bremen, and so highly esteemed by competent judges, that the artist was provided with the means of proceeding to Rome, where the author of the present work visited him in 1844, and found him holding a distinguished place among the sculptors of Germany.
Among Dr Combe's correspondents was an American lady, the wife of his brother William, who had emigrated to the United States. She was a thorough ad‑

MONARCHICAL AND REPUBLICAN INSTITUTIONS. 363

inirer of the political institutions of her own country, and consequently grieved over the unhappy condition of her husband's countrymen, who were forced to live under a monarchy, and in a social state in which nobles held rank and consideration above those of the people. Dr Combe wrote to her on the 26th August 1838, expressing his views of

MONARCHICAL AND REPUBLICAN INSTITUTIONS.

" On my return home I received your letter of the 20th of June ; and as I had just come from a visit to the King and Queen of the Belgians, and had also the honour of being presented to our own Sovereign, Queen Victoria, you will readily excuse me when I mention that I (as well as your husband) read with much mirth your republican denunciations of monarchical governments, and your hearty praise of a nation every individual of which is a sovereign in his own person, and acknowledges none higher or greater than himself. I am delighted that you are so thoroughly satisfied with the government and constitution of the land you live in, but assure you honestly that you may safely reserve your pity for more deserving objects, when you incline to be concerned about the hard fate of the dwellers in the mother‑land ; for I consider it a matter of daily thankfulness that we live under a constitution so much better suited to the character and present moral and intellectual condition of our people than a republic would be, and I rejoice in every thing which promises to delay the arrival of such a change, till, by a great advance in civilization, our non‑sovereign people shall become better qualified to discharge such a sacred trust than they now are, or are likely to be for some centuries to come. I believe a republican form of government to be that intended for man in the maturity of his civilization ; but I should as soon attempt to put the garments of manhood on the child and the boy, as desiderate a republic for any existing European nation in its present state of advancement. It would be a black day for Britain were the masses, with their present qualifications and habits, made the depositories of extreme power ; and whatever may be the course of events in America, I trust Providence, in its wrath, will not afflict us with a republic till we are better prepared for the high and right exercise of its powers and privileges. In your eloquent denunciation of kings, nobles, and dignified clergy, you are far too exclusive. I do not venerate mere rank any more than you do, but neither can I regard its possessors as worse than any aggregate number of the ‘sovereign

364	ACCIDENT IN A MAIL‑COACH.

people.' Nay, I am so heterodox as to believe, that if you would put the same power into the hands of the said sovereign people, the latter would abuse it in a still more reckless and tyrannical fashion, just because, not being used to it, they would fulfil the old adage, ‘Put a beggar on horseback and he will ride to the devil.'
" I confess, moreover, that even your animated description of the pure independent spirit and unbiassed judgment of a free‑born American citizen does not in the least excite my envy; for every American newspaper which I have ever opened, placed before me ample evidence of the existence and activity of the same evil and selfish passions on your side of the water, which we perceive and deplore here ; and if ever you come over to the land of cakes, I daresay you will not discover that your liberty of speech is in any way abridged, even although we have a Queen instead of a President for our executive. But that kings are really of more use than you republicans imagine, I can bear ocular evidence. During my late visit to Brussels I lived fourteen days in the palace, and spent on an average one‑and‑a‑half or two hours daily with their Majesties or the children (visiting the one after the other, I mean). During that time the King was engaged in mental labour nearly eight hours a‑day, and on my remonstrating, as he was infirm in his health, he said, ‘ It is truth, but what can I do ?‑the business must be done.' The question between Belgium and Holland was then in agitation, and the universal feeling in the country was that there was not a man in it except the King who united the knowledge, prudence, firmness, tact, and energy required to effect a settlement ; and that consequently the safety of Belgium and the prevention of a general war depended on the health, life, and character, of that one man. Hurl him from his throne, and you inflict misery on millions now prosperous and happy. This was the testimony not only of adherents but of political opponents, and as I purposely travelled through the greater part of Belgium, I was struck with the great advance made in two short years, and with the warmth of devotion generally felt for him."

Dr Combe's mishaps in travelling have more than once been alluded to. In a letter, dated Edinburgh, 16th October 1838, addressed to his brother George, then in America, he relates another accident which befell him:—

" On Saturday afternoon, the 8th of September, when you were sailing from Bristol, I started from Duntrune to meet Sir George

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Mackenzie at Perth, and to accompany him to Coul in the mailcoach. At eleven P.m., when near Dunkeld, and in fine moonlight, the coach ran against a coal‑cart with a tremendous crash, knocked it to pieces, and turned its fragments and horse round in the opposite direction, and then came smash down on its own broadside. Luckily the pole broke and let the horses loose. The iron support of the lamp was driven through the coach just under Sir George's ribs, but without hurting him. Fortunately for me, Sir George fell undermost, and my lightweight did him no harm. I asked him if he was hurt. He said no; upon which I climbed up and got out, and was followed by him and another gentleman. The scene was a strange one. Letter‑bags, trunks, seats, and greatcoats strewed the road ; and on the bank sat one passenger holding his arm, and another was rolling on the grass, as if in great pain. His thigh was bruised, but not seriously. The other had his shoulder joint dislocated. Not a word of grumbling or lamentation was uttered, and every one who was capable was as active as possible in remedying the evil, and after an hour's delay we reached Dunkeld."

The following letter, dated 18th July 1839, addressed to a lady in England who had consulted him

ON THE CLIMATES BEST ADAPTED TO PULMONARY AFFECTIONS,

although containing nothing new, may interest and prove useful to a numerous class of sufferers :—

" From the account you give of your constitution and habitual state of health, I think you will act wisely in removing for two or three years to a milder climate. The propriety of the situations you prefer will, however, depend much on the character of the colds to which you are subject ; and the point to be attended to is, whether the symptoms induced are those of excitement and irritation in the throat and chest, or rather of relaxation and accompanied with expectoration. With the former state, the climates of Pau, Toulouse, Pisa, or Rome, would agree best; while for the moist, relaxed form of complaint, Nice would be much preferable. From your nervous temperament and sleeplessness, I should suppose your symptoms to be those of irritation, in which case Pau would be a very eligible residence, as you could easily remove to the Pyrenees during the two hottest months. For the same state of constitution Rome and Pisa are very suitable, and during summer the cooler climate of the mountains is also within

366	PUBLISHES HIS TREATISE ON THE

easy reach ; but I am not acquainted with any situation in which you could advantageously spend both summer and winter.
" If your state is that of relaxation (which any medical man could easily decide), then Nice or the south of France, especially the former, would suit best. Aix, Montpelier, Marseilles, and Hyeres, are all recommended, and have many advantages; but they are one and all subjected to biting blasts from the north‑west, which require great caution on the part of the invalid, as along with a cold piercing air there is generally bright and deceitful sunshine. Aix and Hyeres are considered to be less objectionable in this respect than the other two places. I spent a winter at Marseilles, and found it an agreeable residence, but it was a favourable season, and I was on my guard against its evils. I know Pisa and Rome also from experience, and consider them as upon the whole the best climates for the irritable state of the chest, being if any thing superior to Pau.
" With your sleeplessness and peculiar state I would advise your going by sea, as far as your destination will permit. The constant motion of a ship, and the exposure to the open air all day on deck, would be very beneficial, as well as attended with less risk than travelling, especially if you are a stranger to the Continent. If you decide on Pau, you might find a vessel to Bordeaux; and if on Italy, you will readily find excellent vessels from Yarmouth to Leghorn, or from Liverpool, if not from Hull.
" Without seeing you I can scarcely decide on the propriety of seabathing ; but I consider it highly probable that the tepid salt‑water or shower‑bath would be very serviceable, especially when joined to daily systematic friction of the whole surface night and morning. The tepid bath might be used twice a week, or the shower‑bath daily, if found to agree."

For a considerable time Dr Combe had been engaged in preparing “A Treatise on the Physiological and Moral Management of Infancy; being a Practical Exposition of the Principles of Infant Training, for the use of Parents." On bringing the work to a conclusion, he wrote, under date the 12th November 1839, to his brother George, then in Boston, U.S., as follows :—

"My first sheet on ‘Infancy' is at present in the press, but the whole may not be completed till March. How the book will be received, I know not ; but it goes to the root of the matter, and in so far will be original. It will probably startle some timid minds, from

MANAGEMENT OF INFANCY.

36'7

treating of the health, state, and conduct of parents, as influencing the health of their progeny. To many of the medical profession also, its comprehensiveness and reference to principle will be new ; but years will elapse before the value of so treating the subject will be thoroughly understood. As a first essay in a new line, it will have numerous imperfections, and if it shall please any of my facetious confrères to ridicule these, he may find specimens adapted to his purpose. But, either from old age, good self‑esteem, or a quiet conscience, or from a combination of all the three, I feel much indifference on that account, and trust that the loving public will read and act in a right spirit."
The work appeared in 1840, and was dedicated to Sir James Clark. It was favourably received, both by the profession and the public, and has since maintained its reputation. It received many improvements from the author's hand, down to the year of his death. It was republished in America, with his sanction, by Dr John Bell of Philadelphia, and is now in the sixth edition in Great Britain. Dr James Cox, to whom it has been submitted for revisal, has reported that in the present state of physiological and medical science it needs no correction. Dr Combe regarded this as the most valuable of his works, and the public decision seems to have confirmed his judgment, for nine thousand five hundred copies of it have been sold.
This was the last treatise which Dr Combe lived to complete, and I avail myself of a general view of the objects and characteristic merits of his works, presented by Mr Robert Cox, in a Memoir of his Life and Writings, published in the Phrenological Journal for October 1847 :—
In preparing these works," says Mr Cox, " Dr Combe's constant aim was to exhibit the relation subsisting between the rules of conduct recommended, and the particular laws of the organization according to which their influence is exerted, so that the recommendation might rest, as far as possible, on the foundation

360	CHARACTER OF DR COMBE'S WORKS.

of nature and reason, and not on his mere personal authority. He wished to make his readers understand zvhy 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 specific constitution, and is regulated in its action by fixed laws appointed by Divine Wisdom, success in avoiding causes of disease, and in removing them when 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 objects. I In teaching dietetic rules and hygienic observances, therefore,' says he, I 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; andexperience 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, I I 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 entitled 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 enjoy anent or suffering as the consequence ;

NECESSITY OF EXERCISING THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. 369

but as he can neither create himself anew after a different 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 preference, 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 impossible for us to escape the numerous evils inseparable from ignorance and its attendant rashness and presumption, or to secure for ourselves the many advantages and sources of enjoyment which a kind Providence has intentionally placed within our reach.'‑(On Digestion and Diet, ch. vii.)"
The following letter,. addressed to a lady who had long suffered under a complication of distressing, although 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 mind and feelings as fully employed, and as regu
larly exercised, as possible, and never to yield to the dislike for men
tal exertion which 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
the 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 morn I have to do, and the
		2 A

370	RECOLLECTIONS OF FOREIGN TRAVEL.

greater exertion I am making, the more I am able to do, and the happier I become. 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 under 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 recollection of friends, some still alive, and others long since dead, who then shared in my pleasure. It is a blessed arrangement of God's providence, 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 picturesque approach by sea to Castel‑a‑Mare, and other objects of alike interest, that alone dwell in my mind. The unquiet nights in which my lean frame felt multiplied into eight, 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 although 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 like mine, still even the obscurity of that time has been supplanted by the brighter enjoyments which, amidst much infirmity, were placed within my 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 No. 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. Watson in reference to his omission to call Mr Watson's attention to some remarks by Dr Holland on Phrenology, he again adverts to the difficulties which his intellectual 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 endowment 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 nothing short of a strong sense of duty would have induced me to undertake 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, remarks, 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 Successful Prosecution. Reprinted, &c. 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 deserves notice, more especially in a publication inAmerica, where so few know that I am not you."
In the same letter lie adverts to an inaccurate statement given on page 279 of these Lectures, of a case apparently of over‑excited Cautiousness, which had occurred 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 apprehension. This, at the same time, gratified his love of power, and of overcoming difficulties. But the continued want of sleep, and excited activity of Cautiousness, brought on a vague but deep sense of apprehension after his perils were over, and he continued to feel the apprehension 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 Cautiousness 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.

AGAIN IN DANGER OF SHIPWRECK.		;j73

CHAPTER XXIII.

DR	COMBE AGAIN IN IMMINENT DANGER OF SHIPWRECK.‑LETTER ON INSANITY AND THE CONDITION OF THE INSANE, ADDRESSED BY HIM TO A POPULAR WRITER.‑LETTER TO GRAHAM SPEIRS, ESQ., SHERIFF OF THE COUNTY OF EDINBURGH, ON HIS PROPOSED REGULATIONS FOR LUNATIC ASYLUMS.‑LETTER TO MR SPEIRS, DESCRIBING THE CASE OF AN INSANE PATIENT IN A PRIVATE ESTABLISHMENT.LETTER BY DR COMBE, STATING THE REASONS FOR RESIGNING HIS APPOINTMENT AS A MANAGER OF THE MORNINGSIDE LUNATIC ASYLUM.‑INFLUENCE OF ALCOHOLIC LIQUORS ON 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, 11th 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 intense fog came on, and we kept the bell ringing all night. At halfpast eight o'clock next morning, I heard a sudden shout of alarm, ‘Port the helm ! port! stop her ! port !' 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 ; but 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 OF 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 admit 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 !' Half a 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 present; 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 prevented, and still more mitigated, by diffusing sound knowlèdge of them among all classes of the community. At present, many cases of apparent moral perversion, of habitual idleness and incapacity, and of vicious indulgence, 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 partial 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 INSANE.

375

who is insane. His children are distinguished by a certain excitability and feebleness of mind, which, however, 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 young man appears in a second ; and perhaps a helpless, idle, imbecile being, plausible in conversation, but incapable of persevering action, is found in a third. As no suspicion 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 incapacity, 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, therefore, Dr Combe's earnest desire to enlighten the public on the nature and causes of insanity; and for this reason 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 addressed to an author who had introduced

THE CONDITION OF LUNATIC ASYLUMS, AND OF THE INSANE,

into a popular work, with a view to convey information on that subject. After commending the excellent intentions of the author, and the ability displayed in the book, he proceeds:—

"As your object is the high one of benefiting as well as amusing mankind, and the subject upon which you touch has been one of intense 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 you 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 mysterious 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 insanity 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 treatment 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 infirmaries for a fracture or a fever. Insanity, rightly considered, involves 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 description 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 treatment 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, by describing the class as armed with the whip, wielding the chain, and actuated by brutality. 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 improving. 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 laaar‑houses, and thus tend to prevent cures. There are cases best treated at home, as you describe ; but they are few, and the experience 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 mischief 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 out of print, and I have not a copy left.
" Your description of the power of kindness and reason is graphically 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 efforts 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 away; and keeping my eye on her movements, I stood quietly till her agitation should subside, 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‑anhour she agreed to accompany me to an asylum, allowed me to restrain her hands during her removal, walked down stairs with me to

3’%8	REGULATIONS FOR PRIVATE LUNATIC ASYLUMS.

the coach, and begged of me to go in it, and put the attendant outside. 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 unfitness 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 Edinburgh, and contains Dr Combe's opinion regarding certain

REGULATIONS FOIL PRIVATE LUNATIC ASYLUMS.

" I have read the proposed regulations for private madhouses, and concur in their propriety, with some slight exceptions; if, as I suppose, 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. 3%9

excitement soon abates, leaving the patient's chances essentially unimpaired.
" For imbecile, harmless, or incurable patients, I should hold your first regulation to be sufficient. But I would either make it a condition 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 disputation 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 therefore 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 excited 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 obstructing 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 insane to official inspection and control, is strikingly illustrated 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 asy lulns :—

" Early in December 1839, I was requested to visit TkIr , residing with , and to report whether his condition was such as to admit of any alleviation of suffering, or any addition to his comforts. I did so, and before seeing him, was told by his custodiers, that he bad 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, without 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 interest 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 returned some days afterwards. All my former observations were confirmed ; 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 FOR 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 intent. Ile, 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 say, the grand practical error in the management of many (especially private 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 necessity becomes the more obvious. From having for many years taken an interest in the insane and in asylums, I know that the casual official visits of managers and of sheriffs are far from sufficient guarantees 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.

ings 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 protection, comfort, and recovery of the unhappy beings officially committed to your guardianship."

In the annual Report of the Crichton Royal Institution, Dumfries, dated 1st June 1840, this case is adverted to as follows:—" Nothing could be attempted except to augment the physical comforts and the capabilities of enjoyment." (The means used are then described, and the notice concludes) : " He has attended chapel; drives out in a carriage when in a state of composure; sits in the balcony when the weather permits, and has never exhibited any of the violence or intractableness 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 December 1849, after stating the result of his treatment, remarks, that " such facts are, or rather were, of frequent occurrence."
The following letter, in which Dr Combe states the reasons which compel him to resign his off‑Ice as one of the managers of the Lunatic Asylum at illorningside, 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 gentlemen 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 yon 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 coincide in the propriety of fulfilling them by deputy, while the responsibility, such as it is, remains with myself. If nothing more were to be

DUTIES OF A MANAGER OF A LUNATIC ASYLUM. 383

done than to go through the house 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 manypatients;
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.		Whereas, 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, you 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 institution with the public were I to withdraw, as the reason would be misconstrued. 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 itself about me, knows well that this is neither the first nor the heaviest sacrifice which infirm health has compelled me to make ; and the notion 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 obtain 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, containing 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 remarks 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 conviction 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 disheartening 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. 305

effects of alcoholic liquors on health, wrote a very explicit letter, stating his views on the subject; but as these are given at full length in his Physiology of Digestion, p. 174, ninth edition, it is unnecessary to repeat them here.

û B

386

ATTACK OF HtEMOPTYSIS.

CHAPTER XXIV.

DR	COMBE IS ATTACKED BY ILEMOPTYSIS.‑DESCRIBES THE DEATH AND CHARACTER OF HIS SISTER AIRS COY.‑SUFFERS FROM SUBINFLAMMATION OF THE BRONCHIIE AND LUNGS.‑LETTER TO MRS MACONOCIIIE ON CONVICT.MANAGEMENT.‑DR COMBE, IN THE NEAR PROSPECT OF DEATH, WRITES LETTERS ON THE FOLLOWING TOPICS : 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 RELIGIOUS OPINIONS INFLUENCED BY IT ; THE PERFORMANCE OF SECULAR DUTIES THE BEST PREPARATION FOR A FUTURE STATE; SICKNESS 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 PROFESSIONAL CONDUCT INFLUENCED BY PHRENOLOGY ; ITS PHYSIOLOGICAL 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 consulting 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 extended 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 Kolubst 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 attack of hwmopty sis, 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 vicinity 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 11th 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 profitable 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 became 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 present work.

" EDINBÜRQ73, 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 recovery, 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 appointment. 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 hwmoptysis 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
that, if they wished to make her

1

very properly remarked, happy, they must keep themselves wel, 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

"I 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 instruction.

DEATH AND CHARACTER OF MRS COX.		389

any station. For sound‑minded 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
God 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 happiness 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 exertion, when, in his own mind, he was just arranging to enjoy its fruits in the bosom of his family. He, too, showed the same cheerful resignation. 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 yon 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 attention 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 suffering."

" 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 providence, 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 God's goodness and wisdom upon which her mind delighted 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 associations 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 outpouring 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 extent 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 cline 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 constant theme of her speech then, as before, was thankfulness for her lot.
" Altogether, she has left so many traces of her living and energetic 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 associations 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 Hot where to seek for a holier or a better."

392	RENEWED AFFECTION OF THE LUNGS.

Dr Combe recovered pretty well from the attack of baemoptysis, but in the second week of March he caught cold, and was confined to bed by sub‑inflammation of the bronchiT 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 previous attacks of pulmonary disease which he had sustained, 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 particular 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 symptoms worth mentioning. I am now in my usual state, only somewhat thinner, weaker, 'and, I fancy, shorter‑breathed, but in all these respects 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 yesterday. 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 association, 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 ain entirely without suffering, and in the possession of many sources 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
bad advised. Before examining me, he advised my going to Malta,
and afterwards to Rome. “fter 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 Mannheim 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 painful 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 affected 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 himself 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 benefactor 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 particulars."

In a letter dated Edinburgh, 1st October 1841, addressed 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 accordingly. A kind motive kept them from telling me earlier ; but iDjudiciously. 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 considerable 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, consider 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 Providence for having been spared so long and allowed so much enjoyment. 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 Physiology, 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

G	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 character and condition of offenders. He watched with anxious attention the attempts of Captain Maconochie to introduce an improved system of convict management 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 convict 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 interesting letter of last March, which reached me about a month ago at Duntrune. 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 benevolence, and change the wail of suffering and harsh voice of oppression 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 arrangement 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 opponents 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 Stirling 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 Scotsman. 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. Martineau, 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 existing 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 proceedings ; but the obstacles from ignorance and want of means were very great, and much time will be required to put things on a proper footing. The separate system is certainly an improvement upon its predecessors, but it also must be greatly improved before it can be considered 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 temporary 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 Phrenological 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 God, with a contented 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 I may. If matters 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 Farquharson 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 professional 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 repetitions of facts and thoughts already stated ; but as the letters were written in the near prospect of death, and embody his inaturest thoughts and most earnest convictions, they derive an interest from these circumstances 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 310TIVES IN 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 followed 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 communicate. In like manner, I never felt carried away by expressed approval 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 calve 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 infirmity diminished my powers of application, and, along with my deficient Eventuality, prevented me from acquiring the necessary extent 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 attention 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) contains more of them, and in a more explicit form, but still not digested. The bane of medicine and of medical education at present, is its partial and limited scope. Branches of knowlec'.ge, 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 professional 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 narrow 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 feeling, 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 exclusive 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 have 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 medicine, 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 viva voce, 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.		‘here 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
	2r

402

DR COMBE'S VIEWS OF THE

deed, ever present to my thoughts; but it was as the God of love, and not the God of wrath‑as the God of mercy and justice, and not as the God of vengeance or oppression.
" There is one part of my conduct which I rejoice at having adhered 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 improvement 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 themselves 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 infirm 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 relatives 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 su fering in the shape of actual pain, few,
I imagine, have escaped with less. With regard to my
immediate progenitors, I never experienced cc 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 the 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 oPtheir 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‑

4011‑	bfAN'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 watchmaker makes a watch here and a clock there, because my faculties and nature are on a par with the watchmaker'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 inquire.
" 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 adapted to the circumstances in which

been so much 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 constitution, 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 condition 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 generations will, by virtue of the same laws, partially pro‑

FEELINGS IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH. 		405

test 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 complete the development of views which, rightly or wrongly, 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 thinking 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 improvements, 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 submit with resignation to whatever may be my lot.
" In mentioning Horace Mann's opinion of my ‘ Infancy,' you remind 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 welfare and improvement, at the important period of life to which they refer. Principles founded on the study of nature require only to be fully developed, and purified from the errors of their expounder, to constitute a safe guide to the latest generation. My exposition of the principles of infant‑management will, in due time, be superseded by a better ; but it is a very great satisfaction to have lived to bring them together in a harmonious and practical form, and thus to have contributed to the effecting of future and more rapid and certain improvement.
" I dare say many g9od men, with their present lights, would look upon your estimate and mine of the value of the truths we try to diffuse, as ludicrously extravagant, and indicating only morbidly active self‑esteem. But it may be truly said, that in placing faith in tho principles we advocate, we place faith in God'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 inconsistency or presumption in declaring, in the face of the world, 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 important improvement in the condition of man. I can say so with all humility, because the principles, so far as true, are of God'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 have always had great delight in, the investigation and contemplation of the works, laws, and attributes of God. *‑ * * Almost from infancy, 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 accident 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 clearing 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 live 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 God and submission to His will be found, than in such conduct and such results ? or what can be a better or more natural preparation 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 happiness that they have been too steadfast in obeying His will here.
" 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 Thousand.' 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 importance of faith, and also of afiction 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 season 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. AIr 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 afiction. 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 God 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 imperceptible process, others comparatively in a moment; but scarcely in a single instance have I found conversion, or even real awakening, dated from afiction. 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 showing 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 who, 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 happens with respect to ordinary things and feelings) revive, and apprehension 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 coucur."

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, consisted, 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, without 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 beneficial 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, constituting the large mass of human ailments, their efficiency is impaired by want of individual appreciation. From the facilities which PhreDology 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 comfort 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 comparing notes with others similarly circumstanced, expressed much gratification 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 appreciation of, or sympathy with one, could arise only from some unusual harmony of mind peculiar to them as individuals, and could not be extended 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 individual 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 question than they are. I was in a position similar to that of a thorough chemist, who, trained to philosophic thinking, lays useful results before the ‘practical' man, so clearly and simply, that the latter is apt to imagine them destitute of depth, and the mere inspiration of' common 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. Precisely the same rule applies to my case. You can understand me, because you have the requisite knowledge. But one ignorant of Phrenology cannot understand me, because he has only the word ‘ Phrenology' 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 Phrenology 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 intentional indignities. A sensible and kind patient, with large Cautiousness and moderate intellect, suffers, under the irritability of disease, a fidgetty and restless anxiety and apprehension, which is often extremely troublesome to a medical adviser, and shows 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 unacquainted 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 concern 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 interest in the suffering patient, and not at all intended to inflict pain on others. A physician can easily tell whether he possesses the confidence 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‑humouredly 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 adviser 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 mentaldiseases, and inenabling thephysician and attendants to regulate their physical and especially their moral treatment, on clear, consistent, and intelligible principles, is verygreat‑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 understood 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,' and could appreciate their difficulties and contending emotions. I added, that in this I was aided by natural tact, but that I was conscious of being guided to a great extent by my phrenological knowledge 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 excitement; 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, showed 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 command 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 God 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 advices 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 consequence of a peculiarity of present circumstances, she could not refrain. ‘ I am well and peaceful and happy; and I know you like to hear this from myself.' These are examples of many similar expressions used by other patients; but while I know that without Phrenology many of these cases would have continued an ‘ unintelligible mystery' to me, so far as everything consistent and practical was concerned, how could I make any one who was ignorant of Phrenology believe the fact? No one not familiar with its views and applications could understand me."
" One of the improvements which I think may be beneficially introduced 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 myarticle in Forbes's Review.* 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 be judged differently,‑the one physiological, showing 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 philosophy, 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 combination 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 prominence; and the aspect of Phrenology might thus be rendered both more scientific and more philosophical, and, consequently, more attractive to prejudiced but thinking men. As a theory of mental philosophy, it admits of proof by its universal application to human nature ; 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 functions 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 attention of physiologists to its claims and importance. Vimont 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 importance 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 shows one where reliance can be safely placed, and gives just confidence in the good of human nature, from shewing the solidity of its foundations. By indicating where reliance would be unsafe, it prevents general suspiciousness, and induces charitable feeling to predominate 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 PROPER 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 unreservedly all one's views, without reference to time or consequences. III 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'Aubigné'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 hollowness 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 forward truth quietly and discreetly, but don't knock

FOR PUBLISHING NEW OPINIONS.		417

your head against the Pope's horns, or enthroned errors. Leave them to fall at their own time.' D'Aubign6 accuses Erasmus of timidity and worldly‑mindedness, 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 leading 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 Reformation, 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 general 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 existence, or one less marked by the bitterness of contention.
“ Luther's own history affords some curious illustrations of the principle which I am disposed to adopt, 2

418

ON THE PROPER TIME

with regard to the course to be pursued in the diffusion of new truths. His biographer is a warin admirer of Luther's courage and plain speaking at all hazards; and yet, when Luther lapses into defiance of his opponents, and unfolds his ultimate aims somewhat forcibly, D'Aubigné cannot help remarking how fortunate it was for the Reformation, that he did not fall into such Unguarded 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 tyranny 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.
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. I 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 win 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 compulsion they had exercised about the sacraments, and chewed 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. I His moderation was his strength,' says D'Aubigné. I 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. I The most absolute 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 general absolution, or apply for a special one. It was recognised as a principle to reject nothing but what contradicts a clear and express declaration of Scripture. It was no indifference which led to this course; on the contrary, religion was recalled to its essential principle. Piety only withdrew from the accessory forms in which.

* Lib. cit., 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 Church's teaching progressively developed in love and truth.' (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 afterwards 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 remains 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 subversion of the latter, the effete opinions will be quietly replaced by the living truths. All the evils of the Reformation 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 considering 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 established 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,

FOR 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 rendered 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 I On the uses of prejudice, passion, misrepresentation, and abuse, as means of moral improvement 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 ibany 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 commended by the Athenceum, entitled, I Histoire de la Vie de Calvin. Par Mons. Audin. Chez Marson, Paris.' Ile 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 OF CALVIN.

to procure him a wife who will be obedient, economical, and take care of his health. These, he says, are the only I 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 numerous."

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 SIR JAMES CLARK.‑PASSES MOST OF THE SU31AIER AT GORGIE MILL. ‑ANXIETY ABOUT IIIS BROTHER GEORGE'S HEALTH.‑LETTER TO AIR WILLIAM TAIT ON THE DEATH OF MR ROBERT NICOLL.‑LETTER TO MISS STIRLING GRAHAM, EXPRESSIVE OF SOME OF HIS FEELINGS IN THE NEAR PROSPECT OF DEATH.‑HE GOES TO LONDON, IS EXAMINED BY SIR JAMES CLARK, AND ADVISED TO PASS THE APPROACHING WINTER IN MADEIRA.‑PREPARES FOR THE VOYAGE.KINDNESS OF DR LUND.‑LETTER OF ADVICE TO A FORMER PATIENT AND FRIEND, WRITTEN ON THE EVE OF HIS DEPARTURE.EMBARKS AT GREENOCK FOR MADEIRA.‑VOYAGE, AND SAFE ARRIVAL.‑IIIS MODE OF LIFE IN MADEIRA.‑REMARKS ON WILBERFORCE, 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 CHARLES MACLAREN DESCRIPTIVE OF MADEIRA, &C. ‑DR COMBE RETURNS TO ENGLAND.

AFTER the death of Mrs Cox, her second daughter Robina, and third son Robert, joined Dr Combe and Miss Cox, and formed a family circle. They purchased the house No. 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	DR 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 connected 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 spending 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 suffered 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 exainined 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 externally concave ; that the cavity was advancing towards being closed up; that this was, to a great extent, promoted by a pleuritic effusion of lymph over the situation of the cavity, which effusion had pressed its sides together, or nearly so ; and that a portion of the lung

AND HABITS, IN THE WINTER 1841‑d2.		4255

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 accident, 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 bronchi, 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 diarrhoea 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 breathing, as in healthy growing boys.
His moral condition at this time is shewn in the following 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 reasonable 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 necessarily 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 following 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 sternum, which was once so marked, the irregularity in the heart, and the marvellously quiet state of the system at large, all indicate something 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 interests 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 intellectually 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 incompatibilities 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 advantage to compensate the probability of her suffering from my more rapid decay. I have no serious intention of moving beyond the neighbourhood, 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 engaged 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 Gorgie

ANXIETY 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 Mannheim, 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 admonished 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 attempting to diffuse a knowledge of Phrenology in Germany, 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 presented 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, skewed 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, containing a Memoir of Nicoll's Life, in which the following information is giver. :—“His office duties were of themselves incessant and harassing. The Leeds Times is a paper of large size ; and in reporting, condensing news,

Second editioir. William Tait, Edinburgh. 1842.

428	ON THE DEATH OF MR ROBERT NICOLL.

writing a great deal for every number of the print, and maintaining a wide correspondence with the workingmen 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 general election in the summer of the same year, when the town of Leeds was contested by Sir William Molesworth, in opposition to Sir John Beckett. Into this contest Nicoll naturally threw himself with his whole heart and soul." The consequence was, his speedy decline 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 useful 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 1 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 affection 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 row 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 up 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 describes 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 compensate 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 recommendation by them that he should forthwith proceed to Madeira. He and Miss Cox accordingly made all necessary 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 Madeira, he accidentally met a friend whom he had formerly 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."

	" Gorge 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 e, 'ectually.

" It is quite clear to me, that under your present system of overexertion, you stand almost at the mercy of any accidental attack of illness. Were you to take fever, for example, its danger would be

LETTER OF ADVICE TO A FORMER. PATIENT.		431

threefold greater than if your system was in a less exhausted state. The same with every other form of disease ; and your present state cannot go on long 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 purpose, 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 you 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 provision 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 up, should provide for itself? Why then distrust Providence, 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 you walking straight towards a precipice without trying to pull you back ; and I repeat, truly and candidly, that your appearance gave me much pain. I cannot tell you how 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 act, and one day you will be. thankful for it."

The usual mode of proceeding to Madeira is by packets which sail from Southampton. They are comfortably fitted up for passengers, and are a great accommodation 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 fatigue and risk of travelling from Edinburgh to Southampton encumbered by heavy baggage in the beginning of winter. On the 1st of November 1842, therefore, he and Miss Cox sailed from Greenock on board of the barque Hesperia, a first‑class vessel of 269 tons, but clipper‑built. They bad the society of other two passengers during the voyage. 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 contrary 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 seasickness, aggravated by smoke and dust driven through the cabin by the inexorable wind. From the sharpness of the build of the ship, she did not, rise to the waves; but ran 'through their tops; and hence riot 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 became more favourable; and the influence of a warmer climate was perceptible. The passengers were thenceforth 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 delightful, 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 convey 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 		G

	" 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 cast, the bold pro
		2 E

434

MODE OF 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 hastening 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 afternoon. 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 accommodation in the same house. One of these accompanied him pretty regularly in his rides, and Miss Cox occasionally 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 returning. Many pic‑nic parties for excursions, generally

MODE OF LIFE 1N MADEIRA.

435

occupying the whole day, were formed by his acquaintances; but 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. Occasionally 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 ]~anoforte ; after which he retired to rest.

Although, from this description, attention to his health may be supposed to have constituted the business of his life in Madeira, he read a good deal, and wrote many letters.

The following letter, dated 18th January 1843, addressed 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 have not, get it, and read the first
thirty pages that turn up, and ex triginta disce omnes. I never read
	a book so carelessly composed by men assuming the title of editors.
	Every 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 very interesting volume might have been made out of the
FIVE.		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 the one topic in all his letters, and

436

MODE OF LIFE IN MADEIRA.

lashes himself up' to a due fervour of expression, whether the mind wills or not. On one occasion, Wilberforce despatched a very hurried letter on a Saturday night, without any religious expressions in it. In the night‑time, his conscience troubled him so much for the omission, that he could not rest till he sat down next morning, and wrote a second with the piety, and apologizing for his involuntary departure from his rule ! Only think what a perversion of a good principle this was ! There is, however, much in the Life that is really interesting.
" I have lately read Taylor's Life of Howard, and, I am sorry to say, with some diminution of my veneration for the purity of his benevolence. It was not the simple inspiration of benevolence which impelled him, as I had erroneously supposed, but a compound of various feelings, some of them not so high in character. In one sense, his merit was only the greater on that account, but still one feels differently towards him. Benevolence was, however, obviously strong in him, although by no means so predominant as in men like Eustache,* Melancthon, Vincent de Paul, and others. I recollect being disappointed in the very same way with Mrs Fry. I did not find pure and unassuming benevolence so predominant in her as I expected. I suspect there are many other cases of a similar kind, of which Owen is also one, where the act, but not the impulse, is benevolent, or benevolent only in the second degree, and springing from a sense of duty in one, or vanity or self‑esteem in another. The patronising benefactor has self‑esteem at least as powerful as benevolence, if not more so. The predominant benevolence avoids the ostentation of patronising."

It may be mentioned also, that at all times Dr Combe was a diligent peruser of the newspapers, and drew from them much food for his social affections. Every incident of good or evil that affected masses of men interested him deeply, and he watched with the most lively attention all physical discoveries and moral improvements, and looked forward, with the greatest satisfaction, to their results in diminishing the sufferings or increasing the happiness of the race.

* A benevolent Negro slave, named Eustache, who obtained the " Prize of Virtue" from the Institute of France, for saving the lives of his master and several hundred white men during the Negro insurrection in St Domingo. See Phren. Journ., vol. ix., p. 134.

MODE OF LIFE IN MADEIRA.

437

In the early part of his residence at Funchal, a young gentleman from Belfast called for, and introduced himself to Dr Combe, stating that he did so to have the pleasure of thanking him for the benefits he had derived from the perusal of his works. Dr Combe found in him a spirit congenial to his own; and a warm friendship gradually sprung out of their continued intercourse. This gentleman was Mr William Dunville. He and his sister Miss Dunville had gone to Madeira as companions to a near relative whose health was delicate; and as they were not themselves invalids, they had their time and movements much at command. This enabled them to enjoy Dr Combe's society at his own hours and in his own way; and week after week added to the esteem and affection which an interchange of sentiments and thoughts reciprocally produced. The incident is thus particularly mentioned, because this friendship shed many rays of happiness on all the remaining years of the life of Dr Combe. After his return to Scotland, he visited his young friends in the neighbourhood of Belfast, and was equally gratified by the refined taste, simplicity of manners, kindness of disposition, liberality, and intelligence of their father and mother, as he had been by the perception of these qualities in themselves. They repaid his visits in Edinburgh; and almost "every year until his death he was their guest for some weeks in Ireland. In Mr John Clark, likewise, he recognised a kindred spirit; and he regretted the departure of that gentleman from the island so early as March, the end of April or beginning of May being the usual time of returning to England.
Dr Combe derived much advantage, also, from the skill, experience, and kind attention of Dr Renton, who had been settled for a number of years as a medi‑

438

MADEIRA, ITS INHABITANTS,

cal practitioner in Funchal, and who, as well as Dr Lund, was ever ready with information and advice.

During the spring of 1843, Dr Combe addressed to his friend Mr Charles Maclaren two letters descriptive of Madeira. They were published by Mr Maclaren in the Scotsman; and, as they attracted some attention at the time, and have been pronounced by competent judges to be both interesting and useful to persons visiting the island in search of health, it is considered advisable to give them a place in the present work. They were not published by Dr Combe in any other form.

MADEIRA, ITS INHABITANTS, CLIMATE, AND INVALIDS.

MADEIRA, 6th February 1843.

" MY DEAR SIR,‑We have now been here upwards of two months; and as you take an interest in climates, you will be glad to learn that we find that of Madeira to correspond in every respect with the description of it given in Sir James Clark's excellent work. Considering, indeed, that Sir James has never been here, his accuracy is wonderful, and shews the discrimination he must have exercised in compiling his description. The lowest temperature in December, at seven A.m., in a NE. exposure, was 50° on Christmas day, when there was snow on the mountains, and it felt cold. The lowest at the same hour in January was 51°, on the 15th, 16th, and 17th. The highest in December, at one P.m., was 72° on the 11th and 13th; and in January 71° on the 25th. On twelve days in December, it was, at the same hour, 70° or 71° ; and in January, on four days, 70°. Two or three degrees may, however, be deducted from the one o'clock observations, as a white wall, at the distance of about fifty yards, reflected the sun's rays sufficiently to make a difference varying from two to four degrees, according to its brightness and continuance. In my room (a large one, with two windows NNE., and one ESE., and without fire), the highest temperature, at seven A.m. in December, was 67° on 14th, and the lowest 61° on the 31st. In January, 63° was the highest, and 61° the lowest; the average 62°. This, be it remarked, is rather an important fact, because we have scarcely any returns of the temperature of inhabited rooms; and yet, as we spend at least four‑fifths of our time within doors, it is of even more consequence to

CLIMATE, AND INVALIDS.

439

have an equable and mild temperature within than without. One may refrain from going out in a cold day, but it is not so easy to escape from a cold room as from a cold external atmosphere. At nine P.M., the highest temperature observed was 65° on the 11th December; and the lowest 54° on December 15, 20, 23, and 28.

" I can easily imagine you reading this at home, with your toes on the fender, before a cheerful sea‑coal fire, and wishing you were luxuriating in our balmy atmosphere. I must not, however, even at the risk of dispelling a pleasing dream, allow you to believe that, to the feelings it is always as warm as the thermometrical indications would lead one to expect. This is far from being the case. Explain it how you may, it is the fact that, when the change first sets in, the healthy, as well as the invalids, often growl about the chill air, and often suffer from it too, in the shape of pulmonary and intestinal affections of some severity, when, judging thermometrically, you would pronounce them all a set of discontented grumblers.’ Some bold spirits, indeed, acting on the conviction of understandings accustomed to implicit faith in the thermometer, continue to sport their white summer jackets and trousers, and affirm that it is not so cold as we take it to be ; but it is precisely among this class of invalids that I have heard of the heaviest punishments, in the form of catarrh and other chest attacks. The last week of December, for example, felt cold, and the snow lay on the mountains; and yet, at one ‑P.m., the thermometer did not fall below 62°. The same continued to be the case during the first ten days in January, and also from the 14th to the 19th, and from the 27th to the 31st. When it first became cold, almost all the invalids, and many healthy persons, suffered more or less severely, because scarcely one of them was provident or wise enough to don his or her winter clothing at once, and to secure warmth within doors, by wrapping plaids round the feet, or even throwing some warm covering over the shoulders. They preferred sitting with cold feet, chilled skins, and blue noses, because, at home, it would have been ridiculous to complain of cold with the thermometer at 62°. I was one of the very few who escaped damage; and I owed my safety to allowing every one to laugh who felt inclined to do so, and at the same time clothing myself as warmly as during our winter weather at home. I went even farther, and wrapped myself up more warmly, when sitting inactive within doors, than when going out to ride or walk. This is the reverse of our tactics at home, where we put on a greatcoat to go out, and take it off on coming in ; but experience proved that I was right. Many expressed amazement that such a frail figure should

* See Appendix No. III. for an explanation of this fact.

440	MADEIRA, ITS INHABITANTS,

venture out every day, and yet escape; but every day brings forth some fresh proof how much and how often invalids damage themselves needlessly by imprudence or ignorance, and how great is the need of malting a general knowledge of our own functions a part of ordinary education, and its applications a part of everyday practice.

In truth, it makes one sad to see so many examples of every chance of recovery, although sought at such a sacrifice, thrown away by follies of conduct even on the part of sensible and thinking people. They imagine climate to be everything, and to dispense with all care or precaution on their part. One approved method of sacrificing health and chances, consists. in taking a few days' latitude in eating, drinking, and scampering about to see sights, before settling down and seeing the doctor, because he will forbid such extravagancies. The excitement of a new scene carries them through a few days of this; and while it lasts they are delighted to find themselves so much better already ! The consequence too often is, that at the end of a week they take to bed, and then send for the doctor, and, when the evil is done, resolve to follow his advice in future. One of the latest arrivals, landed a day or two before Christmas, just when the cold weather set in, acted on the above principle. She began by scampering about, up hill and down dale, on horseback, with some other passengers, and, in a very cold wet night, went to the midnight service at the cathedral. You will scarcely wonder to learn that she has since suffered severely, and now affirms that the climate does not agree with her. Another approved way of sacrificing health here, consists in those who have gained during the winter taking a week of scampering and fatigue before leaving the island, to see the magnificent mountain scenery, the nearest of which is three hours' fatiguing ride from Funchal, and which ‘ it would be strange if they could not say when they went home that they had seen;' for this is often the motive assigned. I have heard of several who have in this way thrown away all the benefit obtained by six or eight months' residence and care. The larger proportion err apparently from not knowing better. They wish to be careful, but cannot tell how. Several hurt themselves by insisting on going twice every Sunday to church, although the fatigue and confined air exhaust them so much, that they generally spend the next two days on the sofa or in bed. One young lady, with whom we remonstrated, on the ground of its palpably bad effects, would not desist, and affirmed that the air was pure and the fatigue nothing; but on going, a fortnight ago, to the sacrament, an hour after the time of meeting, the vitiated air affected her so much that she nearly lost consciousness, and was soon obliged to leave the church. From that hour the fact became evident to her understanding, and she has

CLIMATE, AND INVALIDS.

441

since abstained. But I need not edify you with any further disquisitions on this part of our experience.

" The barren and wintry aspect of the island, and the scarcity or almost total absence of trees on this side of it, took us both by Surprise on our arrival. We had heard so much of the luxuriant vegetation and fertility, that we expected to see something very different from the bare red‑brown surface which presented itself. The beautiful scenery is, we are now told, on the north side of the island; with the grand and romantic appearance of which we were much struck, on our approach to it by sea. The apparent barrenness of the Funchal (or south) side of the mountains, in winter, arises from the almost total absence of trees, and the universal prevalence of vineyards, which, being leafless at that season, allow the deep red soil and rock to shine through, and give a wintry character to the whole scene which it does not deserve. So far from being really barren, the soil is very deep and fertile ; and when the vines are in leaf, its richness must be very apparent. The depth of soil is, in truth, remarkable, when its purely volcanic origin and the steepness of the mountains are considered. In general, the soil is trenched for young vines to the depth of from five to seven feet; and I have never seen them arrested sooner by the rock. Even up at the Mount Church, 1900 feet high, where we were yesterday, we found the same deep stratum of red earth. The island is, as you know, merely a long ridge of volcanic mountains, sloping on both sides rapidly to the sea, and rising to a height of 6000 feet. The quantity of enormous boulders brought down its precipitous and rocky ravines by any considerable flood, as well as that of earthy detritus, is inconceivably great. During the frightful storm of 24th, 25th, and 26th October last, the soil, gravel, and boulders brought down and left within the last half mile of its course, besides what was carried into the sea, by one of the three rivers which emerge at Funchal, would suffice, I am sure, to fill the bed of the Water of Leith from the bridge at Stockbridge to that at the Water of Leith village to the depth of ten or twelve feet; and yet, at present there is not as much water running in it as would fill the Crawley main pipe. The roaring of the torrent, from the rapid course of the huge boulders, is described as having been tremendous. Many of them were upwards of six feet square; and ever since, about, I should think, three hundred men and two or three scores of oxen have been employed clearing out that same half mile of the bed of the river, and blasting the larger boulders for removal. The object is to get down to the old channel, that the river may not again overflow at the next rainy season. They have laboured most actively now for upwards of three months, and removed enormous quantities of deposit, but apparently much remains untouched. Only

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conceive such a state of knowledge and enterprise, that in such an operation no mechanical instrument except a lever is ever used ; not only is there neither a rope nor a pulley in use to raise the blocks up to the banks‑a height in many places of twenty feet‑but there is nothing even with wheels‑not even a wheelbarrow ! Strings of men and boys carry away the soil and gravel in buckets on their heads to the sea‑shore ; and powerful muscular fellows carry up large stones on their heads, and deposit them on the adjoining banks. Never, in short, was such a waste of muscular power seen. Everything is literally effected by human hands, unaided by other tools than a lever, hammer, and mattock. The only compensating advantage in all this is, that the very disaster has furnished the means of at least six months' employment to the above number of men, most of whom have families. In the present deplorable state of the wine and general trade in Funchal, this is a very important consideration ; as without this employment, many families would have been reduced to absolute destitution.
" The distress caused by the inundation in October, although really great, was small compared to what would have happened from a similar inundation in Liverpool and many other towns, where thousands of the poor live in cellars under ground. Even in the worst streets here (and it was only they which suffered), there are no underground or sunk storeys, and the ground‑floor is almost always occupied as a wine‑vault, cellar, or, in some streets, as a shop. The inundation consequently injured or destroyed a good deal of property, but scarcely touched the actual dwellings of the poor, except in one or two streets, where even the second or inhabited floor was partially flooded. The greatest evil resulting to the poor was the dampness arising from the wet mud deposited on the ground‑floors, rendering those above them also damp and cold. Much sickness was thus produced, and increased by their destitute state. Many had their clothing or furniture lost or destroyed in the attempt to remove it, and thus suffered doubly. A subscription was raised for their relief, and'the English contributed to the extent of two‑thirds of the whole sum raised. This season, about 380 English visitors have arrived. Of that number, the invalids may be estimated at one‑third, or 127, as almost all are accompanied by one or more friends, and many by a servant.
" 8th February.‑One of the most remarkable things here, is one we hear little about. I allude to the system of levadas or irrigating canals, which is so important as to constitute a distinct branch of civil administration, and is admirably managed. In a country where a mile of level ground is unknown, and where the mountain‑side slopes rapidly down to the sea in the face of a scorching sun, and rain sel‑

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dom falls except during two or three weeks in spring and autumn, you may easily conceive what a demand there must be for water, where every foot of earth is covered by vines, orange‑trees, coffee‑bushes, sugar‑cane, fig‑trees, and ordinary vegetables. The exhalation during the twelve hours of sunshine must be enormous, and without artificial irrigation scarcely anything could grow and reach maturity. To provide against this want, channels are formed at a great height to conduct the water from the rivers along the sides of the mountains in a succession of slightly inclined terraces, with a slope sufficient to allow the water to run freely. From these main channels smaller ones branch off to the vineyards and gardens, down which the stream may be turned at pleasure. By damming up one course, and opening another, the water may be conducted to every part in succession, till the whole is thoroughly watered. Every vineyard and garden is entitled to so many hours of the water, and so many times a‑month, according to the rate of payment ; and the supply is given by a public officer at the stated time, just as the water is tur‑azed on by our Water Company, and cut off from refractory consumers. In the summer months it is economised as much as possible, as the supply often falls short of the demand. The depth of the soil enables it to drink up a great deal, and also to furnish moisture to the vines for a considerable time when a supply cannot be had. Owing to the great evaporation from the surface of the sea, the air also is somewhat humid, and hence the luxuriance which characterises the island in summer. The very sound of the water in the levadas, where it runs sparkling down from a higher to a lower level, is refreshing, when one is broiling under a hot sun. In the town of Funchal, the levadas continue their course under many of the streets, and are accessible by trap‑doors. Fountains also abound, from which the supply of spring water for domestic purposes is obtained, and carried in small barrels on men's shoulders into the houses. At each fountain there is a jug chained for the accommodation of thirsty passers‑by. The system of irrigation begins at the height of about 1600 or 1700 feet, and if you saw the unequal and broken surface of the mountain, you would admire the ingenuity displayed in introducing it so successfully, where nature seemed to forbid it. As a reservoir for occasional purposes, every country‑house has a large tank, which they take care to fill when the water is supplied. Many tanks are large enough to serve as capital bathing places, or even for swimming, being about twenty feet by twelve or sixteen feet, and from six to eight feet deep. At the height of 2000 feet, the vineyards and garden cultivation cease, and the want of water is much less felt.
" All round Funchal, and, I believe, on the south side of the island

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generally, the vine is the great object of cultivation, to which everything else gives way. It is not trained simply to a short pole, as almost everywhere in France and Germany, but is carried over an arched or horizontal trellis‑work of cane, on which it branches out with great luxuriance. The arches are called corridors, and are high enough for one to walk under. The more common is the horizontal frame, at the height of perhaps four feet from the ground, or sometimes a good deal more. Under the latter, cabbage, pease, potatoes, and other garden produce, are generally grown in the spaces between the vines. Canes are grown in great abundance on purpose to make the frame‑work, and they are very neatly put together. Those who are very particular about their wine, grow nothing under the shade of the vines, as other crops necessarily impoverish the soil to some extent. In winter, however, when the vine enjoys a few months' repose, a secondary crop of vegetables may be taken with little injury. The peasants are obliged to turn everything to account, because they have but a poor bargain of the soil. The almost universal rule is, that Government takes a tenth of the produce, out of which it pays not only the clergy, but almost all other expenses; and of the remaining nine‑tenths, the proprietor and tenant get each one‑half. Out of the tenant's half, all the costs of cultivation and keeping up fences, and making improvements, must be defrayed; so that in the present very bad times, when wine is almost unsaleable, the peasantry are in a wretched state. Judging from their houses, huts, and food, their lot must be a hard one even at the best, but at present it is peculiarly bad.
" The absence of wheel‑carriages and general traffic gives a peculiar quietness to the streets, resembling a Sunday in some provincial town. Heavy burdens are carried on very primitive sledges, being nothing more than two flat pieces of wood nailed together, and drawn by a couple of oxen. A boy walks before to shew them the way, and regales them with a continued chorus of unearthly sounds. A man with a goad walks behind, and joins in the eternal shouting, to which, however, he adds the not less intelligible accompaniment of a poke in the ribs with a goad, as a stimulant to increased muscular power. Lighter goods are carried chiefly on mules, which are here of a small breed, but strong and sure‑footed. All travelling is performed on horseback on account of the steepness and nature of the roads, although for invalids a palanquin or hammock is sometimes preferred. Horses may be hired at any time for about fifteenpence an hour, and a small gratuity to the burroquero or attendant, who walks, trots, or runs behind, often with a fly‑flapper in his band, of which he makes ample use. When the pace is rapid or up hill, the burroquero lays hold of

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the tail of the horse and keeps up with ease. In this way he will run his thirty, or even forty miles, without injury or much fatigue, and that in the face of very steep ascents and bad roads. But as a natural consequence of this severe exertion often repeated, many of them die suddenly from disease of the heart and apoplexy. While they last, however, they are fine robust and active fellows, full of good nature, and very obliging. The streets and modern roads out of Funchal are paved with small stones or large pebbles, and are very clean and even, bùt not pleasant for either walking or riding. The continual clatter in riding almost prohibits conversation. We had heard much of the steepness of the streets, and the nearly precipitous roads out of town ; but in reality, most of the streets are only slightly inclined, and not more than three of them are steeper than Duke Street in Edinburgh. Portions of the roads are, however, very steep, although even they are not absolutely perpendicular. I have seen parts as steep as one in four, but these are rare and short. One in five of an ascent is more common, but in general they are not much worse than our Nelson Street, with every now and then a steeper pull. A few short descents to ravines are sufficiently bad to make one boggle at descending them, but custom soon smooths down their asperities, and enables one to ride down without concern. English engineers with money in their pockets, could easily remedy the want of carriage roads, which, for invalids, would be a very great advantage, as the impossibility of driving out is at present a great hindrance to their recovery. The want of baths in a place like this is another evil which excites no little surprise, as even sea‑bathing can be had only at a risk, on account of the surf and steepness of the beach. A prospectus of a bathing establishment was published last week, but I doubt its being successful. There is neither money nor enterprise enough afloat for it.
°1 The English are very civilly used here, as they may well be, if your confrere of the Defensor be right in affirming, that but for us poor invalids there would have been no coin at all in circulation during the last six months. House‑rents have risen greatly in consequence of our increasing numbers, and also servants' wages; but the necessaries of life continue cheap and of very good quality. Excellent meat is to be had at 4d. per lb., fowls at Is. 6d., bread at 2d. per lb., potatoes, green pease (in which we are revelling), and all other vegetables, at reasonable rates. Fruits are indifferent. No attention is paid to the fig or orange trees, and consequently the fruit of both is poor, although the climate and soil are well adapted for them. The poor‑comprising nine‑tenths of the population‑are very indifferently fed on soup, cabbage, yams, Indian corn, porridge, salt fish, coarse bread (of

446	MADEIRA, ITS INHABITANTS,

maize or indifferent wheat), fruit, &c. They scarcely ever taste fresh meat. Every cottage above the rank of a mere hovel has its oven built on the plan of our bakers' ovens, and projecting behind the house. In Funchal, also, every house has one or more. We have two, and most convenient they are for baking and cooking. Almost every family bakes its own bread, and similar ovens attached to houses and cottages in Scotland would be most useful and handy. Flourmills on a small scale are numerous, and a person carries a peck of wheat to be ground, and waits to bring away the flour with him. The hand‑mill used by the ancient Romans is also still in use. I have seen it in several cottages.‑But I must ‘ look to the end,' and be brief in the rest of my remarks.
" The climate is complained of generally as relaxing, and to this cause is attributed the want of energy among the people, and the tendency to let things remain as they are, rather than go in search of improvement. There is truth in the statement, but not, in my opinion, the whole truth. The climate is somewhat relaxing from its humidity and equable temperature, and in summer must be so to a still greater degree. But so far as I can judge from my short experience, it is not sufficiently so to account for the results. The great want seems to be that of a mental and moral rather than of a physical stimulus. Isolated as the island is, and out of the influence of all great public questions affecting the continents of Europe and America, its population lives in an unmoved or quiescent mental atmosphere, which contributes to apathy and indolence far more than the merely physical influence of the climate. It is only once or twice a‑month that it hears what is doing in the great world. The shock and the impulse given are dead and gone before the next instalment arrives; and the people feel, moreover, that their feeble voice would never reach any other country in such force as to be heard. On the island itself there is nothing whatever to excite any interest. There is no public principle to discuss, no science to attract, nothing to grumble at or to amend, except by the roundabout way of Lisbon, which rarely gives back even an echo in response. Even for the trading and busy part of the community, business comes chiefly by fits and starts, and is as monotonous as possible. There is no literature, no bookseller's shop in the whole island, although a few books maybe had in other shops, but very few. With this dearth of wholesome stimulus, how can the mind become otherwise than relaxed ? And once the mind becomes relaxed and apathetic, I will give any man a dollar who will shew it to me associated with a braced and active body.
" The only trades which seem to prosper here are shoe‑making, cabinet‑making, and horse‑letting. In some streets the shoemakers fill

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almost every second shop ; they make whitish soft leather boots and shoes for the West India as well as home market. The cabinetmakers fill, perhaps, every fifth warehouse, and neat‑handed fellows they are. The burroqueros, too, are a numerous body; and I never saw anywhere greater and more unremitting activity than among these three classes of men, who have all a stimulus to exertion. Among them one sees nothing of the relaxation complained of. Quite as little is it seen among the workmen employed in the rivers, or among the peasants in the vineyards, who feel that their existence and comforts are at stake. Among the English visitors, you find relaxation enough and to spare. But is it wonderful that it should abound in them, even holding the climate guiltless ? They are planted down on a limited space, with nothing whatever to do, with the same scene constantly before them, separated from their ordinary occupations, interests, society, and resources, without anything in the shape of amusement, and often enfeebled by broken health. How, then, can their minds retain their natural vigour under such a combination of adverse circumstances, let the climate be what it may ? The demon of ennui becomes the familiar of many of them. Some relieve themselves, especially after a few weeks' residence, by a sustained roulade of grumbling‑a privilege dear to Britons, and which enables them to bear many heavy burdens. The English reading‑room, with its library and billiard‑table, is a great resource to the young men. The idle gossip or play billiards; and the busy or reading portion have the choice of an excellent collection of rational and amusing books, although at rather a high rate, viz., fifteen dollars for six months. Gossip, as in all small and idle communities, becomes the chief employment of society‑not by any means from any peculiar malice in the individuals, who are collectively above rather than below the average moral stature, but simply as a vent for their mental faculties, which must do something, unless they altogether retire with Rip Van Winkle to the valley of Sleepy Hollow, and spend the period of their expatriation in a pleasing dream.
" 10th February.‑The thermometer is historically stated never to descend below 50° in Funchal. Nevertheless, while I write (72 A.M.), mine is eccentric enough to insist upon standing at 44°, in the midst of a torrent of rain, which, too, never falls when the wind is northeast, and yet it is now pelting with fury from that very quarter
The rainy season has apparently begun. For two days heavy showers have fallen, and the mountain tops have been thickly coated with snow. We may now look for a fortnight of bad weather, as also for the mail‑steamer and breakfast, which latter will be doubly welcome this cold morning. I was interrupted after beginning to write by a stream of water flowing into my room from below each window, and

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was obliged to sponge it up and try to keep out farther inundation. Having thus earned my breakfast, I bid you adieu till I get it.
" As you are a man of a tender and compassionate heart, I am glad you are not here to witness, as I do every day with infinite pity, the miserable aspect of the poor children, who, in the main, are without exception the dirtiest, most unhealthy‑looking, and most unhappy objects lever saw. The pale drawn blotched face, thin flabby legs, and prominent belly, are the fit accompaniments of their woe‑begone expression, and reveal the darkness, dirt, and starvation amidst which they are brought up. I allude chiefly, of course, to the children of the poorer classes in town, and of the peasantry in the neighbourhood of Funchal. In some parts of the island they are said to fare better and look better ; but it is truly painful to see those within our circuit of about four miles from the town. Even the better cottages have rarely any glass in their windows. The great majority are mere huts or hovels, often dug half‑way down into the damp earth, and without either window or chimney, or anything except a low doorway, or a mere square bole shut by a board. Darkness, dirt, and bad air prevail within ; and, adding bad diet and cold, the wonder is not that the children are sickly and suffering, but that they ever survive. In very many instances, the only clothing for the first two or three years is a very dirty shirt, and this even in winter.‑* Among the natives generally, deformity in all its various shapes, and also loss of limbs, prevail more than I ever remarked elsewhere. Leprosy is also met with, and has an hospital for itself, although long since banished from among us by cleanliness and food. I am endeavouring to procure tables of the births, deaths, and population, and shall be surprised if the mortality among children is not far higher than the healthiness of the climate, considered per se, leads many to imagine it. There are many robust fine‑looking men, and a very few good‑looking young women,‑especially, I am told, on the north side of the island; but, generally speaking, they are anything but a flue race, and the women are frights. Both sexes early assume an appearance of age, and the exuberant plumpness of youth is rarely seen. Among the soldiers, of whom from 200 to 300 are daily drilled before our eyes, there are scarcely any well set‑up and well‑formed men. They are clean, and neat enough looking in uniform, and go through their evolutions respectably; but the round‑shouldered slouch prevails, and you miss the firm manly tread of our troops.
" The people, and especially the servants, are abused in the hear‑

* Some remarks on the defective clothing of these children will be found in Dr Combe's Treatise on Infancy, p. 112, 6th edit.

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tiest fashion by our countrymen as dishonest, rapacious, and untrustworthy. They are, however, good‑natured, obliging, and apt, and perhaps not so much worse than ourselves as they are called. At any rate, if thorough distrust and suspicion have any deteriorating influence on character, some allowance may be made for them ; for such are the feelings with which they are generally met and treated by their English employers. The old English residents have no difficulty in obtaining good servants ; and several speak of having some still in their houses, after from seven to twenty‑five years' service.
" Very palpable traces of the Moorish features are not infrequent, and specimens appear now and then apparently perfectly pure. As a people, the natives of Madeira are far from deficient in quickness or intelligence; and with education and a good government, they might rise much higher in the scale of civilisation. The revolutions in their government proved this. The news of a free constitution was received with great and almost universal satisfaction ; and for a time a wide and active popular interest was excited, and, if report be correct, shewed itself in a more rational and less capricious form than in some other countries. But after a time, all this was officially discouraged; and now all is said to be again quiet, and attention is directed chiefly to commercial evils. So, at least, I am told ; for I have no personal means of knowing. Two journals appear weeklythe Defensor and the Impartial. They are published on Saturday, and are as large as a sheet of ordinary scrolling paper. The Defensor is the Scotsman of Madeira, and read by us, of course, in bonour of you.
" To give you an idea of our position, I may mention that in 1842 the number of vessels arriving was 366 ; and of these 188 were English, including 12 Brazilian packets and 24 West India mail‑steamers. Almost every one of these 188 was outward bound; and the opportunities home are so few and rare, that Madeira reminds me very much of a mouse‑trap, into which it is very easy to enter, but from which it is uncommonly difficult to escape. I used to laugh at my friend the ‘ Wanderer'* coming home from Madeira by the West Indies and New York, and fancied he might have shortened the road, if inclined to do so. Now, however, I take a different view, and think him a lucky and wise man who can get safely out of the trap by any of its holes, no matter whether it be the same by which he entered or not.

~’ Dr W. F. Cumming, author of " Notes of a Wanderer in Search of Health."

2 r

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" 11th February.‑The Defensor of to‑day says that the ultimatum of a treaty with England has been forwarded from Lisbon to London by the last steamer, and that a very favourable result is confidently anticipated. ‘Meantime,' it says, ‘the picture presented by the island cannot possibly be blacker ! Poverty augments in a fearful manner! !' It says, also, that the clearing of the river has been carried on with a rapidity which has surprised it, and ‘ shews what Madeira bands can do, even when ill paid.' This is quite true. The results are astonishing, considering the means. The daily wage is said to be only 10d. a‑day for such hard work, but I can scarcely believe it.

6th March.‑‑Oh for Rowland Hill or Mr Wallace! No opportunity till 8th March of sending away a letter begun on 6th February."

" MADEIRA, April 15, 1843.

" My DEAR SIR, My former letter, dated in February, had reference only to the two preceding months of December and January. At the time it was in progress, the rainy season or bad weather was just setting in. The first week of February was fine and pleasant to those who could move about, but rather cool for any one remaining inactive. At seven in the morning, the thermometer usually stood somewhere between 50° and 56°, and between 64° and 69° in the middle of the day. At the former hour, the lowest temperature of the month (and also of the season) was 44° on the 10th, and 46° on the 18th. The lowest at one P.m. was, on the same days, 53° and 55° respectively. The highest at seven in the morning was 61° on the 20th, and at one o'clock 72° on the 24th and 28th. The general temperature in the morning was about 55°, and at one o'clock about 64°. On ten days the thermometer at one o'clock was at or above 68°, and on only three days it fell below 60° in the middle of the day. During the whole month‑the winter month par excellence‑the thermometer in my large airy room, without either fire or fire‑place, never fell below 60° at seven in the morning, except on the 11th, 12th, and 13th, when it indicated 58° and 59°. At one o'clock it stood on two days at 60°, on four at 61°, on five at 63°, and at either 64° or 65° on all the other days of the month !

" As to the character of the weather, it was, as I said, fine, though cool, during the first week. The 7th, however, proved to be the beginning of a long tract of unusually bad weather. From that day down to the 23d, or rather the 27th, we had an almost constantly clouded sky, frequent heavy rains, occasional thunder, and continual gales from south‑west to north‑west, which compelled the vessels in the roadstead to put to sea, and prevented some of them from returning till the 27th. On the night of the 16th, a momentary hurricane

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of great fury wrecked the only vessel which, from being at the time without either cargo or ballast, was unable to run out. For nearly three weeks the mountains were more or less thickly coated with snow, which descended lower and lay longer than for many years past. I saw it one day, indeed, nearly as low as within 2000 feet of the level of the sea. During all this time I felt cool, and sometimes even cold, especially when sitting in a state of bodily inactivity. For about a week the air was also heavy, damp, and relaxing, and among those who exposed themselves unguardedly, clothed too lightly, or lived too freely, indigestion and bowel‑complaints were prevalent ; but generally they were easily warded off by warm clothing, prudence, and a somewhat sparer diet.

"During the month of March, again, the lowest temperature, at half‑past six A.M., was 53° on the 6th and 7th, and 54° on the 4th, 13th, 14th, 17th, 19th, and 28th ; and the highest at the same hour was 64° on the 30th. On eight days it was at or above 60°. At one o'clock, the highest was 75° on the 26th and 29th, and the lowest 64° on the 15th and 18th. On fourteen days it was at or above 70°, and the general temperature was about 68° or 69°. In my room, without fire, the lowest in the morning was 63°, and the highest 66°. At one o'clock the lowest was 64°, the highest 67°, the average being 65°. The greatest variation in my room during the month was scarcely four degrees. The first week of March was fine, but felt cold in the shade. The last three weeks were humid, but more boisterous and relaxing than usual. Indigestion and bilious diarrhoea again prevailed for ten days among the more delicate or incautious invalids. From the 10th to the 27th it often blew heavily at sea, and for a week no vessels could remain in the roadstead. During both months there was a remarkable prevalence of west or south‑west winds, the ordinary wind and steady weather being from the north‑east. The season, as a whole, was considered as not only more boisterous and unsettled, but also colder, moister, and more rainy than usual, and on all hands complaints were heard of its severity. Even the Defensor became eloquent on the subject of their inverno horroroso (horrible winter) of twenty days. In some respects, however, I am inclined to think that it was more abused than it deserved; at least it fell scarcely at all short of my expectations, and I consequently was not so much disappointed as many were with the reality.

" After the first three days of April, the north‑east wind resumed its place, and brought with it an agreeable temperature and fine weather. The thermometer ranged from 58° or 60° at six o'clock A.M., to 70° or 74° at one o'clock, till Saturday the 8th, when the pure este, or African east wind, set in dry and scorching, and raised

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the thermometer in the shade, at one P.m., to 82° on the 8th, 88° on the 9th, and 84° on the 10th ; while at six A.M. it reached 56°, 72°, and 7 0°, on the same days. The wind then returned to the northeast, and the thermometer fell to from 70° to 75° at one o'clock, with occasional showers. At my window the thermometer was affected at the mid‑day observation to the extent of 3° or 4°, as formerly mentioned, by the reflection from a white wall at some distance ; but on the 9th, one completely in the shade at the Deanery, 400 feet above the sea, stood at 83°. The hygrometer, which usually indicated 12°, stood at 52° at the extremity of the scale ; and the air was so dry, that three pints of water sprinkled on the floor of my room from time to time, were wholly dried up within two hours. Exercise was then out of the question. On the morning of yesterday (the 14th), within five days after the thermometer was at 88°, the mountains were again coated with snow, and the temperature so low as 52° at six A.m., and to‑day it is 53°. At mid‑day, however, it reached 68° even yesterday, and it promises to be soon flne again.
" From this abstract you will see that, in some seasons at least, the climate of Madeira is not free from the changes and inequalities with which other regions are visited in a higher degree. But while this is broadly admitted, due weight ought also to be attached to its relative excellencies. What the invalid requires most is a mild and equable temperature, and tolerably fine weather, during the months of January, February, March, April, and May; for there are many places in Italy, along the shores of the Mediterranean, and even in England, sufficiently mild and pleasant to constitute a suitable residence for him during the autumn months, extending up to Christmas. But it is precisely during the above four or five months, that even the best of our European climates often grievously disappoints our expectations, and makes the invalid regret having forsaken the comforts ofhome. Everyone who has had any experience of Rome, Pisa, Nice, Naples, or even Malta, is well aware, that during these months, cold dry penetrating easterly or north winds prevail more or less, and are productive not only of great discomfort, but of considerable danger to the incautious invalid. Being generally accompanied with bright sunshine, which gives to everything an appearance of warmth and cheerfulness, the reverse of the reality, the invalid is often tempted to expose himself unguardedly to their influence ; and after being heated by the sun's rays, he suddenly finds himself, on turning into the shade, chilled and shivering. Even in the house it is very difficult to protect one's self against these winds, and many relapses and attacks of illness date their origin from them. After having myself spent three winters in Italy and the south of France as an invalid, I

CLIMATE, AND INVALID.

453

have no hesitation in affirming that the winter just ended here, bad as it is said to have been by all who have resided some years on the island, was, with all its imperfections, incomparably superior to the best of the three I spent in the south of Europe, in the great requisites of mildness, equability, and general fitness for the pulmonary invalid. Even here, prudence is no doubt required. But nowhere that I know of will a rational‑minded patient find a residence so free from objection, and combining so many advantages to reward the self‑denial and sacrifices incurred by him in his search after health. No climate, indeed, were it as fine as that of paradise itself, can ever supersede the necessity of constant attention to healthful habits, and a welldevised regimen. A good climate is a powerful element in the restoration of health, but it is only one out of many conditions; and if its influence be counteracted, as it often is, by thoughtlessness, rashness, or ignorance, disappointment must ensue. So far, then, as climate alone is concerned, I give a most decided preference to Madeira over Italy for the pulmonary invalid. This limitation is called for, because there are persons whom the isolation and monotony of this island would weary and depress to an extent more than sufficient to neutralise the superior advantages of its mere climate over that of Italy.
" Practically, you will have a better notion of the nature of the climate when I tell you, that notwithstanding all our so‑called severe winter, I was not confined to the house by the weather more than three or four whole days in four months, with the exception of two days of the este, when the excessive heat made it unsafe to go out. Except on two days, I found a greatcoat too warm to walk in ; and after trying a Macintosh two or three times for fear of rain, when riding out, I laid it aside as oppressive, and preferred taking my chance of getting wet. On four occasions I was accordingly overtaken by rain, and on one of them thoroughly drenched ; but even then, by continuing my usual quiet pace, to avoid getting overheated by riding faster,‑and changing my dress immediately on my return,‑I escaped all injury. Within doors here, instead of suffering painfully from the feeling of cold, as I did in both Rome and Naples, and being injured in health by it, I felt scarcely any disagreeable sensation which I could not readily obviate ; and out of doors, gentle exercise on foot or on horseback kept me comfortably warm, even in the coldest weather. The temperature of my room was, as already remarked, only twice below 60°, and in general stood at 65°. The extreme variation observed in it during four months of the worst season was only from 58° to 68°, except during the three days of the este, when it reached 71° ; but it very rarely varied more than 2° in twenty‑four hours.

454	CLIMATE OF MADEIRA.

" This great equability of temperature within doors, where one spends at least five‑sixths of one's time, constitutes, in my opinion, the peculiar excellence of the climate ; and I question whether it is paralleled even in our best‑regulated hothouses. In Italy, most certainly, it is not to be found. When changes in the weather did occur here, it frequently felt cool, and sometimes even cold; but that sensation was easily dispelled out of doors by exercise, and within by attention to diet and sufficiency of clothing; and from a good deal of observation, I am inclined to infer that where any one suffered from it, the fault lay generally with himself, except in some few cases where the power of generating caloric was morbidly impaired, or the patient lived in an unfavourable locality. With a few exceptions, the general weather of the last four months reminds me greatly of a good (not hot) summer at home. There has been, however, much more sunshine, and the air has been purer and softer. If such be the character of a bad winter in Madeira, you may imagine what a good one must be.
" In further corroboration of my own estimate of the climate, and of the extent to which, even here, the advantage to be derived from it depends on the prudence or imprudence of the patient himself, I may mention a remark lately spontaneously made to me by the most experienced of the English physicians residing on the island. In talking of the weather, he said that the season had really been the worst he remembered for a longtime, but that ‘nevertheless the invalids generally had done remarkably well.' The only explanation of the fact which he could offer was, that the weather having been more unsettled than usual, the invalids felt themselves obliged to be snore than usually prudent in their conduct and mode of life ; and hence the happier results. From my own observation, I am convinced of the truth of both the fact and the explanation ; and as it is calculated to impress the delicate with the folly of trusting to change of climate alone, and with the indispensable necessity of a steady and judicious co‑operation on their part with the efforts of their medical advisers, I am anxious that the lesson should not be overlooked. At the same time, I rejoice to be able to say, that there is now much more discrimination shown in the selection of the cases sent abroad for the recovery of health. One meets much more rarely than formerly with those distressing examples of patients sent out in the last stage of irremediable disease, only to die amidst strangers in a foreign land. A few such still occur ; but most of them have come of their own accord, and against the opinion or remonstrances of their professional advisers.
"During the cold weather, such as it is, the town or immediate

RETURN TO ENGLAND.

455

neighbourhood of Funchal is the best, because the warmest and most sheltered, situation for the invalid. An elevation of a few hundred feet offers the advantages of a finer view, and perhaps purer air, but it is also colder and mere exposed."

On the 22d of April, Dr Combo and Miss Cox sailed from Madeira in the " Vernon," one of the regular packet‑ships, on their return home. There were a number of passengers on board, who formed agreeable society, and Captain Webster paid every attention to their comfort. As the weather was tolerably good, the voyage proved rather pleasant, and was happily terminated by the safe arrival of the ship at Cowes on the 7th of May 1843.

456	DR COMBE'S OPINION OF HOM(EOPATHY.

CHAPTER XXVI.

DR	COMBE'S OPINION OF HOMO;OPATHY.‑HE PROCEEDS TO EDINBURGH.
	‑ADVISES HIS BROTHER GEORGE TO VISIT THE GERMAN MINERAL
	WATERING‑PLACES FOR THE RESTORATION OF HIS HEALTH.‑PRAC
	TICAL REMARKS FOR HIS GUIDANCE.‑VISITS MR DUNVILLE AT
	RUSH PARK, BELFAST.‑LETTER TO GEORGE COMBE ON ITALY AS A
	WINTER CLIMATE FOR A CONVALESCENT PATIENT.‑DR C031BE IS
	ORDERED TO PASS A SECOND WINTER IN MADEIRA‑IIIS VOYAGE
	CONDITION OF INVALID PASSENGERS ON BOARD.‑STATE OF MADEIRA
	IN WINTER 1843‑4.‑IMPRISONMENT OF DR EALLEY.‑PRECAU
	TIONS TO BE USED IN VISITING GALLERIES OF ART AND RUINS IN
	ITALY.‑EFFECTS ON PATIENTS OF THEIR SCEPTICISM ON THE SUB
	JECT OF MEDICINE.‑DR COMBE RETURNS TO ENGLAND VIA LISBON.

FROM Cowes Dr Combe proceeded to Kingston‑onThames, where he remained three weeks with his nephew, Dr Abram Cox, until the weather should become sufficiently mild to render it safe for him to proceed to Scotland. In a letter dated Kingston, 16th May 1843, addressed to George Combe, he again gives his

OPINION OF HOM(EOPATHY.

" I am not, and for a long time have not been, hostile to Homoeopatby. I have long thought that the Homoeopathists have made out a case for serious enquiry, and on that ground urged our medical nephews to avail themselves of the opportunities presented to them to investigate its claims, and verify them in practical observation. If I were to continue in my profession, I should consider it a duty to test these claims. There are many analogies in their favour, not only in lAiebig, but in nature ; but there are also numerous difficulties.

GERMAN MINERAL WATERS.

457

From personal knowledge I do not hold myself entitled either to adopt or condemn the principles of the Homoeopathists."

Sir James Clark went to Kingston, and, after examining Dr Combe's condition minutely, on 23d May wrote to George Combe as follows:—

" You will be glad to hear that my examination of your brother's chest was very satisfactory. I cannot say that there is any diminution in the extent of the disease. Much the greater part of the left lung is implicated; but the malady is evidently in a more subdued state generally, and in no part could I discover any increase in its progress. With a continuance of his judicious management of himself, I do entertain the hope that he may be spared to us ; and I am strengthened in this hope by the sound state of the right lung, and this, too, when many years ago it was considered to be extensively and irrecoverably diseased. The effect of the winter in Madeira has, I think, been good, both negatively and positively. By going there your brother escaped deleterious influences to which he would have been exposed had he remained at home, and his general health was maintained in a good state. His system has escaped the injurious effects of a Scotch winter ; or rather, the advantages of a summer at home have been gained by the winter in Madeira. If the social advantages of Madeira were equal to its climate, I would be an advocate for his spending several more winters there."

In the first week of June Dr Combe left London by a steam‑ship, and arrived without mishap at his own house in Edinburgh. There he remained only a brief space. His brother George had returned from Germany in October 1842, still suffering in health, and passed the winter 1842‑3 in Edinburgh. In June 1843 Dr Combe found him improved, but not restored to his ordinary condition ; and as he regarded too long‑continued and too severe mental exertion as the cause of George's indisposition, which had now assumed the form of a general weakness of the vital functions, rather than that of any serious specific disease, he strongly recommended to him to proceed to Germany, take a course of mineral waters at such of the Spas as might

458

MEDICAL RESPONSIBILITY.

be recommended by local physicians as most suitable to his circumstances, and to pass the ensuing winter at Rome or Naples in complete relaxation. This advice was immediately followed, and within a week after Dr Combe's arrival in Edinburgh, Mr and Mrs Combe set out for Ems. On the 7th June 1843, Dr Combe wrote to his brother as follows:—

" I have not had sufficient practical experience of any of the German waters to warrant my acting as your guide in their use ; but I have seen more than enough to convince me, that, judiciously selected and applied, they are capable of doing your system a radical service. For the details of their application, however, I must leave you to local advice. But let me add one caution. In consulting any physician, in whatever country, ask him to point out which place it is best for you to go to, before telling him which you would prefer. Such is human weakness, and such are the aberrations into which Love of Approbation sometimes leads even good men, that the mere indication of your own wishes might supersede minute investigation and deliberate consideration of your case, and you might, in consequence, be sent, not to the best locality, but to one which might perhaps do, although only the second or third best. One other hint I can give you from experience. Turn a deaf ear to the opinions and counsels of those friends, medical or not, who lie under no responsibility in directing you. Such men never take a thorough view of all the circumstances, and their partially‑formed, and, therefore, often erroneous opinions, are apt to mislead. Listen to them, and if they suggest anything really important, communicate it to the practitioner on whom, by regular consultation, you impose the responsibility; but however plausible it may look, do not receive it, or act upon it, in any other way."

This remark illustrates an important practical fact in the operations of the human mind, and is the counterpart of an observation made to the author of the present work by a Scotch advocate in extensive practice. “How does it happen," said he, " that although perfectly disposed, on proper occasions, to give to friends legal advice gratuitously, I never feel satisfied that the advice is safe for them to follow? It is quite otherwise when I receive a fee. So forcibly have I been

ADVICE TO GEORGE COMBE ABOUT HIS VISIT TO ITALY. 459

struck with the difference, that I believe if I wanted to take my own advice on my own affairs, I should employ the left hand to put a fee into the right!" The explanation appears to be the same in both professions. When the intellect has been long accustomed to anxious labour under the high‑pressure of moral and professional responsibility (imposed by a fee), it becomes incapable of making the same amount of exertion when this pressure is absent‑in other words, when no feeling of responsibility exists.
Towards the end of June Dr Combe visited Mr and Mrs Dunville, the father and mother of his Madeira friends, at Rush Park, near Belfast, went to the Giant's Causeway with them, and spent several weeks in their society with great enjoyment. After his return, he took up his residence for the rest of the summer at Gorgie Mill.
In pursuance of the advice of Sir James Clark and Dr Combe, George Combe took a course of the waters of Ems, and afterwards one of those of Kissingen, under local medical advice. The immediate effect was to lower the tone of his mind and body; and under the apprehension that the plan had failed, his wife wrote to Dr Combe, describing his condition, and expressing doubts of the soundness of the counsel under which he had acted. After the close of the second course, he, in pursuance of his medical instructions, proceeded to travel through Germany, and afterwards to Italy, by easy stages, and purely for recreation. Under this treatment, the good effects of the waters speedily became apparent, and Mrs Combe wrote to Dr Combe a letter describing the improvement in her husband's condition, making the amende honorable for her previous want of faith, informing him of several most contradictory accounts which she had received of Italy and Rome, and

. 460	ITALY AS A WINTER RESIDENCE.

begging once more for the benefit of his experience and advice. On the 22d August he wrote to her in answer the following letter, which may perhaps prove useful to other invalids projecting a residence in Italy:

" Your and George's joint letter, commencing on 22d July and ending on the 9th of August, arrived only yesterday, and was consequently too late to be answered by the 20th to Salzburg. The spirit in which you now write is highly gratifying to all my feelings, and the moral sunshine which it sheds over my mind is an ample compensation for the former cloud in which you unintentionally enveloped me. I see perfectly the force of your explanations, and give all due weight to them. Even at the time, I did you the justice to believe that you were not aware of the effect your letter was calculated to produce, and that most of its expressions were biassed by the uncomfortable state of your own bodily and mental health. The best way, then, dear Cecy, is to let bygones be bygones, except in so far as they may, in silence, afford aid for the future. There is one happiness in dealing with you. You are honest and open to reason, when it is placed before you in a kind spirit. That compensates for many things. Most heartily, then, do I excuse the past, and rejoice in the amended prospects of you both.

"This brings me to the winter campaign. What is desirable for George, and fortunately for yourself also, is a mild winter climate, open‑air exercise, without fatigue, but requiring some play of the muscles ; cheerful society, moderate occupation, plain diet, and early hours. The object of the mild climate is to equalize the external and internal circulations for such a length of time as to allow the formerly over‑dilated internal vessels to regain their tone permanently. A winter like ours tends to check this, by driving the blood from the surface, and concentrating it too much in the abdomen, lungs, or brain. I attach some importance to this winter, because, if spent in a mild climate, it secures, as it were, three consecutive summers (counting a southern winter as one) to repair the wanted tone. I mention Rome merely as the best continental climate, as climate, and offering other advantages of society and objects of interest, but I have no exclusive preference for it over climates equally good. Pisa stands in this position, but morally it is dull and depressing, although mild and cheap. Florence is most unsuitable. Its climate is extremely variable, often severe, and always trying. Malta might do, and is much cheaper, and with pleasanter environs, boating, &c. ; but its spring is not good, and it is farther away. Madeira, as a climate,

ITALY AS A WINTER RESIDENCE.		461

would suit you both excellently; but it is also dull, and out of the way, and without many advantages of society. The Taylors go to Rome, and would suit you well, and I have no doubt you could find other quiet families, although dissipation is the order of the day.

" My conviction is, that all the accounts you have received of Rome are true, and that it depends very much on the individual whether he will reap enjoyment or disappointment there. So far as I have the means of judging, you may live either reasonably (not cheaply) or extravagantly‑with rational people, or the reverse. Lodging is the chief expense, but it is not higher than here, and there are, as elsewhere, good as well as bad landlords. We were two months in Rome, and, from my very low state, were compelled to live very quietly; and yet‑bad health and all‑(I had to rest three times in getting out of bed at first for want of breath), we enjoyed it, and found more to think about even in the outsides of the ruins than I imagined possible. For several weeks we had a drive daily in a two‑horse calèche, and were always pleased with the neatness, civility, and moderate charge. Others spoke of the same hired carriages, or rather drivers, as cheats and scoundrels. We can only say, that we should be glad again to employ such scoundrels and carriages on the same terms. That there are cheats in Rome in plenty I doubt not ; but I should be glad to have a corner of London pointed out, or even of immaculate Edinburgh, where one can traffic in perfect reliance on civility, openness, and honesty. In how many lodging‑houses in this country would you rely on the first words (or acts either) of their proprietors ? and yet it is possible to live in a lodging. Act, however, on the principle, that human nature is nowhere perfect, that something must be allowed for, and that we as well as they are at times unreasonable, and you may get on in Rome as in other places. James says, that those who are pleased are cheated too, but believe themselves not cheated. Grant this, if he wishes it, and still I say, if I am cheated, so as not to let me know,‑if, in short, I am not plundered,‑I shall not repine. I can fancy your not liking Rome at all; but I can also fancy you, after being fairly settled, liking it greatly, as most do. If you get comfortably settled, and find out a few rational people, you will like it much. If not, you will heartily tire of it. All I can say then is, that, quoad climate, it is a good place for you both ; but quoad ultra you must judge for yourselves, and remain or run away as you find it turn out. Only, get a dry airy lodging, with a sunny aspect. Without that it won't do.

" As to travelling in Italy, and diet, my limited experience is all favourable. I found the beds almost invariably excellent, the people very civil and obliging, the living good, and the charges rea

462	ITALY AS A WINTER RESIDENCE.

sonable. A good vetturino generally takes you to the best houses. Murray's Guide is very trustworthy. In Rome, you may have what you choose to eat. I have a pleasanter impression of Italian than of French inns. Once on a time I used to occupy myself in foreseeing diffculties and disagreeables. Now‑a‑days I leave them to themselves, till called upon to meet them ; as I found by experience that many of them ran away before I got up to them, and that others which were in the distance like mountains, became mole‑hills on a nearer approach. I can now set off anywhere on a day's notice with great equanimity, though formerly I should have asked for six weeks to deliberate. For yourselves, then, all I can say is, that I consider a mild winter climate as the one thing needful‑the place and continuance to be determined by considerati.ons of which only yourselves can judge. I do not even say that it is indispensable. It is certainly, for the reasons stated, highly desirable, with a view to permanent restoration ; but there are circumstances which would warrant a hope of continued improvement even without it. Only I lay little stress upon James's description of the third heaven of Roman vanity and folly, as a drawback to a rational residence in the capital of the world. Keep in mind, also, that Sir James Clark, who recommends Rome to you, resided there for years in constant professional contact with its invalids, and had experience of all its drawbacks before he gave his opinion.
" With regard to my own winter quarters, I can give you no farther information than when you left us. Acting on the principle that enough for the day is the evil thereof, I am not yet concerning myself about winter arrangements in any shape, and am waiting the time when my wise men will open their oracular mouths and pronounce upon my fate. All, therefore, I can say is, that if I must go abroad, I shall most likely return to Madeira, on the simple ground that, if I must forego the pleasures of home, it is better to resort at once to the most advantageous climate, than to adopt the half measure of going to Italy, Jersey, or the south of England. Malta, till the end of January, would suit equally well, and has many advantages, after which I have a hankering ; but moving in spring would be a great drawback. Another plan, if I must move, is to try a long voyage‑to the Cape, Sydney, or New Zealand, for example‑and it would not take much to induce me to try the experiment in a good ship for the benefit of myself and others. Many suspicions exist that a long voyage would be useful in such cases ; but precise information is greatly wanted, and I might do worse than make an experiment of myself. I am not likely ever to be good for much as it is, so that if it failed, little harm would be done. Whereas, if it effected positive good, it would be a step made in advance, where progress is greatly

VOYAGE TO MADEIRA.

463

needed, and where the welfare and happiness of thousands are at stake. What say you to a New Zealand pie‑nic? My health continues as before."

On the 22d of September, Dr Combe wrote to his brother, then at Milan:—

" After a fortnight of suspense, Dr Scott decided, two days ago, that I should return to Madeira, and we are now in the interesting predicament of inquiring about vessels. Our niece (Miss Cox), as usual, devotes herself to my service, and is a great comfort to me. I have edited, at the cost of a good deal of trouble, half of the October Number of the Phrenological Journal, in Robert Cox's absence, and hope to send it to you in Rome."

On the 8th November 1843, Dr Combe and Miss Cox sailed from * Greenock on board of the “ Duncan Ritchie," an excellent ship of 600 tons burden, bound for Valparaiso. The following letter, dated Madeira, 14th December, addressed to his brother George in Rome, describes his voyage, and contains some practical remarks on the condition of the invalids who were his fellow‑passengers:—

" You have heard, or will have heard, rather, before‑this reaches you, of our speedy voyage here in the Duncan Ritchie, Captain Wilson. We left at one P.m., of November 8, and disembarked before breakfast on the 21st, having reached the back of the island on the forenoon of the 19th. We ran before a sharp north‑easter for four or five days, at the rate of 200 and 220 miles a‑day, going eleven knots during squalls. The steamer of the 17th was nearly eleven days out, owing to bad weather. After escaping all colds on land, one attacked me after being three days on board, and pulled me down very rapidly. It was caused by an unsuspected stream of cold air blowing from an open chink right on my head as I lay in bed, and, consequently, was made worse by lying a day in bed to cure it. On puttying up the chink, I began to recover, and am now in my usual condition‑very comfortable and well for me. The more I go to sea, the more I am convinced that my Leghorn voyage in 1820, bad as I believed it, had been in reality more so by far than I fancied. The captain and crew all said it was the worst weather they had ever encountered, but I set this

464	CONDITION OF INVALID PASSENGERS.

down as mere exaggeration, and thought it just a ‘ stormy' passage.
But in the hardest gales I have experienced since, and in the Duncan's
squalls and ‘ dirty' nights, the sound of the wind was like the soft
breathing of the lute, compared with its shrill and angry vibration
amidst the cordage of the Fame. The blows of the waves also, which
seemed in 1820 to threaten instant destruction, and made the Fame
tremble in every separate fibre, were specimens of ‘ physical force,'
to which the worst on any subsequent voyage can never be compared.
What an idle thing is presentiment, by the way! I had, before I left
home, a strong involuntary presentiment that I should never reach
Madeira. But as I could assign no reason to myself, I acted as if I
were unconscious of it, with the exception of making a few additional
arrangements in case of the worst. Once on board, however, all pre
sentiment of danger vanished, and I never felt even a doubt of our
safe arrival in due time. We were splendidly lodged, and were in
all fifteen passengers ; and although Duncan rolled constantly from
running before the wind with a heavy sea, it was in a deliberate
gentlemanly fashion, which admitted of sleep when one was fairly
propped in, or padded all round. For comfortable sailing, commend
me to a large ship, with a roomy poop cabin. ‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑and I were
lodged in a stern stateroom, with two stern windows, a water‑closet,
and seat like a sofa. The stateroom was ten feet by nine.

" On board we had a large supply of invalids, attracted by a ‘ doctor' being on board, and the effect was depressing to no small degree. Three of them would have been better at home, and two more ought to have been sent up the Rhine through Switzerland to Italy, as a far more suitable climate. The latter have already left for London, rather rashly, I think. But I did not know till they were off in a hurry by a vessel just about to sail. My spirit was vexed and saddened, and amazed at the deplorable state of ignorance in which every one of these poor sufferers came on board. Not one of them had even a glimmering of the nature of the animal system or its laws of action, and not a tittle of direction had they from their medical advisers for their guidance either on the voyage or on their arrival here ! They seemed to have been sent for a ‘ change of climate,' as if that mighty change were sufficient to absorb and neutralise all other agencies whatever, good or bad. To me the conduct of their professional advisers seems morally culpable in a high degree, as well as professionally defective and unaccountable.* I have witnessed ignorance enough in my day

*1 In the Appendix, No. III., will be found an exposition of reasons why every invalid, on being sent to a climate not practically known to him, should be furnished by his medical adviser with specific instruc

CONDITION OF INVALID PASSENGERS.		4655

among all classes of patients, but partly from less frequent contact with it of late, and partly from its conglomerated intensity within such a small circle, I never felt so nearly reduced to the apathy of despair as on this occasion ; and even yet it requires an effort not to despair of human advancement, and to put in play the very feeble means one can individually command as a counterpoise. The more I see, the more impressed I become with the all‑importance of early and systematic training, as the groundwork of future improvement. Mere instruction, even in useful and interesting truths, goes but a small way when not conveyed with an ever present purpose of its bearing upon the regulation of conduct. As yet, this is an entire novelty in education, except partially in some of the better class of infant and pauper schools. It nowhere, that I know of, assumes the predominant place it ought to occupy as the one thing needful ; and, consequently, the practical results of so‑called education are speedily obliterated and superseded by those of the real education unintentionally effected by the manners, habits, and opinions of home. More abstract information goes but a short way in influencing conduct, when it happens to work against years of training in evil or ignorant habits. The habit of ‘ reading,' merely as reading, is of little use, and of this we had glaring examples on board. Some of the young men, who devoured with eagerness page after page of my work on ‘ Physiology,' did so apparently without a suspicion that it was intended to influence their conduct; and accordingly set its printed dictates at utter defiance, even while they were anxious about themselves, and eager to get practical directions addressed exclusively to themselves. Such messes as they made, morning, noon, and night, of ham, steak, tea, porter, potatoes, meat, pudding, apples, almonds and raisins, I have rarely had the luék to see ; and this after having been warned, and when they fancied they were unusually careful ! They wondered they were troubled with bile, acidity, fulness, heat in the hands and feet, and flatulence ! ‘ What can it be owing to,' quoth , ‘ that I feel so thirsty, and my hands and feet are always burning, and my system so full ?' This, too, was after I had entered into a regular lecture to him on the danger of afresh attack of hxmoptysis,

tions how to regulate his habits, so as to derive the greatest advantages from its influence, or what would, perhaps, be preferable, should be earnestly counselled to place himself under the guidance of an experienced local physician, and to adhere strictly to his directions.

Dr Combe mentions that Dr Lund was a passenger on board of the " Duncan Ritchie," and afforded great assistance to the invalids described in the text. The ship was advertised to sail with a surgeon, but provided none.

2

466	IMPRISONMENT OF DR KALLEY.

and on moderation being indispensable ! The scene would have been ridiculous, had not one seen Nature standing behind them all the time ready to give them their due, and summing up the page now and then, and making them ‘ pay up' before beginning a new account.
" Some very unfit and sad cases have been sent out to die, away from the alleviating comforts of home and friends. A poor American died yesterday in this condition, having left New York early in November, with the assurance that he would be nearly well before reaching Madeira! He never left his room. When I saw him the day before his death, he told me with a smile of joy, that his brother and sister, and some other friend, had arrived to take care of him, and what a pleasure it was; and under this happy delusion he died.
" In consequence of a kind invitation given to us before we left home, we went to the house of Mrs John Dunville (Ambrosia's), and remained for ten days as her guests, until we found suitable accommodation for ourselves. We are now very pleasantly situated in the house of Counis, a Genevese, who, with his wife and family, does all he can to make us comfortable. We have a very cheerful, airy drawing‑room, the use of a dining‑room for meals, and two nice bed‑rooms, and eat by ourselves, for £18, 15s. a‑month ; X2 cheaper than last year. There are only 135 where there were 390 strangers last season. This tells sadly on a small suffering place like Funchal. The streets are green and dull, and the invalids who have come are more prized."
(Dr Combo next mentions, that he had suffered great anxiety on account of the serious illness of the two physicians settled at Funchal, Dr Renton and Dr Broughton, that he had assisted in the treatment of them to the best of his ability, and that both were then convalescent.)
" Dr Kalley, who is now in prison on a charge of public blasphemy, for preaching against the Virgin, host, and images, writes, and gets his friends to write and hold public meetings at home, to remonstrate with Government for not interfering to protect him from ‘ popish persecution,' for ‘ the private exercise of his religion, as guaranteed to British subjects in the treaty with Portugal !' His great friend, the Rev. Reginald Smith, who was here last year, publishes a letter in the Record the other day, calling for sympathy and protection for him, and in enumerating his claims to our regard, says,‑‘ I have been present on several occasions when Dr K. addressed HUNDREDS of Portuguese in their own tongue, in the most eloquent and successful strain,' &c. Dr K. answers to the accusation, nevertheless, ‘ I preach wdy in my own house to mg own friends ;' and this being the ‘private

IMPRISONMENT OF DR KALLEY.		467

exercise of my religion, is guaranteed to me by the treaty, and I won't give it up.' He and Mrs Kalley date their letters,‑‘ Common Jail of Funchal,' and make sundry allusions to dungeons, and the penalty of being burned alive, and confiscation of property if found guilty. They don't tell that he inhabits large and airy rooms, not properly a part of the ‘ common jail,' and holds levees and prayer‑meetings in them; and that he himself has no more fear, even if found guilty, of being burnt alive or harshly dealt with, than he has of being planted for life astride the frozen summit of Mont Blanc ! His whole argument about its being the private exercise of his religion, looks very like an evasion of the real charge against him, which is, that he contemns the Portuguese law, and tries to proselytise Portuguese subjects.
" My paper is nearly filled up, although I have much more to say. If I had had room I should have told you how, on our arrival, Senhôr Nuno, the health‑officer, saluted me from afar; how the captain (who had never been at Madeira before) gravely consulted me whether to bring the ship to anchor or stand off and on under easy sail ; how I, with equal gravity, advised him to keep a clear conscience and let down his anchor; how he then begged I would point out the best anchorage‑ground; how Senhôr Nuno and I were of one mind thereanent, and directed him to drop under the stern of a smart slavechaser; how I looked as grave thereupon as if I had been first pilot of the port of Funchal, which has no port at all, which was the reason of the captain asking me where he should anchor in the bay; how the captain, commenting on my character in my absence, assured the rest of the passengers that I was ‘ a very decent man;' how he confirmed this handsome testimony by a barrel of nice sea‑biscuit which he heard me praise ; how I have thereby been enabled to regale my friends at no expense to myself; how, since our arrival, two doctors fell ill, and how the patients, to take the advantage of them, fell ill too ; how the Portuguese lament that there are so very few invalids this season ; how houses, cooks, and provisions, are thus at a discount, and civility much on the increase ; how we are treated with profound respect by some who thought nothing of us before ; how the letters in the Scotsman have made the people wonder what I shall say next; how we have a real live Duchess on the island, who is said to be like no Duchess at all ; how she is lauded for affability, and for calling on those whose acquaintance she is anxious to make ; how I have not yet seen her, but have a profound respect for her greatness in the distance ; how I do not wish to inspect it more nearly ; and many other wonderful things for which I have now no room, and must, therefore, omit."
" P.S.‑You speak of spending four hours one forenoon in the Vatican. I strongly recommend to you never to take such spells of gal‑

468 	PRECAUTION IN VISITING GALLERIES OF ART.

leries or sights. The bodily circulation stagnates during them, while thel'nervous system is called on for extra exertion, and is liable to be over‑exhausted by the interest which the objects of art excite. Besides, galleries and churches and ruins are cool in winter, and the absence of locomotion makes them doubly efficacious in checking free cutaneous. circulation. Short visits are all you should make, and only when‑warmly clothed."

It maybe mentioned, that the error here commented on was committed through sheer ignorance of the physiological effects of sauntering in the galleries of the Vatican, absorbed in the pleasing excitement called forth by the works of art there presented to every visitor; and that it was not repeated after this admonition was received. The advice is published in the hope that it may save some other invalids from the evils of a similar transgression.
In the following letter, dated Madeira, 30th January 1844, addressed to Mrs H G‑, Dr Combe adverts to the effects on a patient of

SCEPTICISM ON THE SUBJECT OF MEDICAL SCIENCE.

" Your scepticism on the subject of medical science is not new to me, although you never expressed it so strongly before. From the time of my first real acquaintance with you (in 1838 ?), I had no difficulty in perceiving that such was the tendency, if not the settled state, of your mind. It exhibited itself in many ways, and sometimes extended itself to disregard of the physiological laws, as if you bad believed them to be the mere fancies of man, and not the expressions of Almighty wisdom and power. Our friend Mrs ‑‑ has, in like manner, had a deep‑rooted scepticism, ever since I have known her, on the subject of medicine. You say truly you wish it were otherwise ; that you dislike doubt and scepticism on such subjects. I heartily wish it were otherwise for your own sakes, because you have both suffered not a little from your incredulity. Powerful and general as the nervous system is in its influence over all the other functions, and over the action of external agents, I am not going beyond the strictest limits of fact and experience in saying, that in many instances this unfortunate state of mind has been sufficient to counteract the beneficial operation of well‑devised treatment, and is at all times sufficient to diminish its good results. That it has been so again and

SCEPTICISM ON THE SUBJECT OF MEDICAL SCIENCE. 469

again in Mrs ‑‑ I know. That it has been so in you, I firmly believe, although my means of .positive knowledge have not been such as, in your case, to afford me legal proof! You may say that medicines must be little worth, if disbelief in their virtues can counteract them or modify their effects. But should we be warranted in inferring that opium is not a narcotic, because, in one instance, a patient of Dr Gregory's took a dose, believing it to be an aperient, and declared it had acted better than any he had ever taken ? From this, you would argue uncertainty and distrust. I, on the other hand, looking to the influence of mind and to general experience, would argue that, in the administration of all remedies, even those of a. marked specific character, it is necessary to take the mind along with us, instead of disregarding it, as is generally done. In the same way, in prescribing for Mrs ‑‑,could I rationally expect the same effects from medicines which I knew to be positively beneficial in other cases like hers, with this difference, that while she took the medicine in a settled conviction of its.failure, others took it with a hope of advantage? I say it would have been folly to do so, and experience taught me that such was the influence of her settled scepticism, that it was better to refrain from medicine in her case almost entirely, and trust to the stricter observance of the physiological laws for improvement. In other cases it was far otherwise, for I saw marked benefit from the judicious use of remedies. I believe that you have suffered in this very way, and, in consequence, been even injured by treatment which, in a different state of mind, would have done much good.
" You may say‑so much for the esprit de corps even in sensible men, among whom you rank me. But it is not altogether so. I am done with medicine in this world, and have no interest in exalting or depressing it further than as an instrument of good or evil. So far from being blind to its defects, or to the errors of its professors, very few men have a more perfect perception of both than myself. I lament them, and the ignorance which engenders them, and, still more, their consequences in human suffering unprevented, unrelieved, or even increased. But that does not prevent me from perceiving, at the same time, how much an enlightened medical man can do for rationalminded sufferers, and how much more medicine will be able to do when both patients and practitioners shall have acquired a more correct knowledge of their relative positions and duties. In the treatment of disease, as in the making of a bargain, there are two parties concerned, and misconduct on the part of either may cause a failure. You say you ‘ are surprised at the systematic neglect of rational means among the doctors, seeming to trust all to drugs and medicaments.' I too am both surprised and mortified at this, and have been since I

470 SCEPTICISM ON THE SUBJECT OF MEDICAL SCIENCE.

knew what practice was; and I wrote my books to help in remedying the defect.

" But I must not write a dissertation instead of a letter ; and I end where I began, by saying, that while I am deeply impressed with the defects of medicine, and the many errors committed in practice, I am still more deeply impressed with the real and substantial benefits which may be derived from medical aid, sense, and knowledge, in preventing and curing disease, and in advancing human improvement and happiness. I claim no immunity from professional errors in my own practice. I have done and recommended things which I should not do again in the same circumstances ; but I also believe that I have been the means of doing essential good where mischief would otherwise have followed. I have no blind faith either in medicine or in medical men, even the best of them ; but I thank Heaven I am not entirely sceptical as to the utility of either. In my book on Derangement, published more than thirteen years ago, I urged on my readers to look to the individual and not to the abstract type of disease for their guidance ; and every day has added force to my conviction, that most of our practical errors result from overlooking this, and prescribing for ‘ sciatica' or ‘rheumatism,' for example, instead of for A. B. or B. C., the individuals suffering from sciatica, &c.‑a course that leads to the indiscriminate application of remedies which, excellent in some cases, are yet injurious in others, and might have been foreseen to be so.

" As an illustration of my meaning, I may mention the case of Dr ‑‑‑‑‑‑ of this place. He had a severe rheumatic affection, with great pain, fever, nervous restlessness, and an apparently full bounding pulse. In my younger days I should have bled him as an act of necessity ; and, even as it was, I had some anxious doubts in refraining. Certain circumstances, not of a prominent kind, led me, however, to suspect that the excitement was much more of a nervous than inflammatory character, and I abstained, but watching him anxiously all the time, and prescribing only very mild means, and refusing even leeches, which he wished for. The event sbewed I was correct; and, had I bled him, I have reason to believe that his recovery would have been greatly retarded, and his stamina much impaired, instead of being, as be now is, better than for many previous months. Had I prescribed (as I once should have done, perhaps) for the prominent disease, instead of for the subject suffering it, I should have bled and lowered him ; and, on the other hand, had he not been prescribed for at all, the probability is, that he would have had more suffering and a more tedious convalescence. At least I think so ; although in that, too, I may be wrong.

" You ask if I read much here ? Alas! no. I can neither road

CLIMATE OF MADEIRA.

4 71

nor think much. That is the chief penalty one pays for the enjoyment of an otherwise enviable climate. No fancy could imagine finer weather than since our arrival, but it is eminently conducive to that dolce far niente which makes existence pass like a waking dream. This arises from the quantity of moisture held in solution by the air, which is nearly double that of our home atmosphere. It is this which produces the relaxation so generally felt after a continued residence here, and which also fits the climate for many eases of pulmonary disease. We have had none of the frequent gales and rains of last winter, but gentle breezes to fan the air. Ten days ago we made an excursion by water to Cape Giram, a very remarkable promontory of nearly 2000 feet perpendicular, eight miles to the westward. We were six hours out, with no inconvenience except from the sun, and used our cloaks only as cushions. As a natural consequence, the foliage of the trees and vines, and vegetation generally, have a much finer appearance than last season ; and, in sheltered places, many of the leaves of the plane‑trees are still green ! The last two days snow has appeared, and the thermometer fallen to 63° at 2 P.m., and to 50° one morning at 7 A.m. ; but to‑day at 7 it was again 61°, although very cloudy. We have made the most of the weather and enjoyed it; and I am now as well as I was in autumn, and generally complimented on my increased beauty, especially by those who saw me soon after landing, when I was a good deal pulled down by a cold caught in the Duncan Ritchie. The Caledonian Mercury and Evening Post have, it appears, been lately entertaining their readers with the interesting news of ‘Dr Combe, the brother of the eminent phrenologist,' contriving to live with only one lung of an imperfect kind. But here some of the good people, I am told, allow me only half a lung, and others not even so much, and good‑naturedly wonder to see me riding and walking, and exhibiting most of the phenomena of a man fitted with a complete pair of bellows. So much for the gossip of Madeira."

The time during the remainder of his stay in Madeira was spent by Dr Combe much in the same manner as in the previous season. His health, however, was not so good, and by Dr Renton's advice, as well as in accordance with his own judgment, several changes of residence were made during the latter portion of his stay in the island. In the beginning of March, he and his niece again became the guests of Mrs Dunville for ten days. Shortly afterwards, she took a large house

472	RETURNS TO ENGLAND VIA LISBON.

(Palmeira) with extensive grounds in an elevated situation above Funchal; and from the 25th of that month till they left the island, they were most hospitably entertained by her: as the situation was well adapted to Dr Combe's habits and condition, he profited both in health and enjoyment by her kind attention. He had previously spent a few days at Santa Cruz, a few miles from Funchal. On the 13th April 1844, change of air still appearing advisable, he embraced an opportunity (at an earlier period of the season than he would have thought proper if another had been likely to occur within the next few weeks), and sailed by the 14 Aguia," a Portuguese vessel, for Lisbon. The weather was fine, and the voyage slow but agreeable. On the 27th April they arrived at their destination, and remained in Lisbon till the 7th of May, when they sailed for England in the “Lady Mary Wood" steamship. After a favourable passage, they arrived early in the morning of the 12th, and proceeded directly to Kingston‑onThames. Here they spent a month, as the season was still too early to allow of Dr Combe's return to Scotland.

SUMMER OF 1844.

CHAPTER XXVII.

473

DR COMBE PASSES THE WINTER 1844‑5 IN EDINBURGH.‑SEVERE ILLNESS IN FEBRUARY 1845.‑IN SPRING GOES TO HELENSBURGH.INTERVIEW WITH THE REV. DR DAVID WELSH.‑LETTER TO A FRIEND ON THE PROFESSION OF A DIPLOMATIST.‑MAKES AN EXCURSION TO THE RHINE, ENCOUNTERS BAD WEATHER, AND IS FORCED TO RETURN.‑REMARKS ON °° VESTIGES OF THE NATURAL HISTORY OF CREATION."‑HIS CONDITION IN SEPTEMBER 1845.TRAIT OF CHARACTER IN AN EVANGELICAL LADY IN RELATION TO THE THEATRE.‑DR C031BE PREPARES AN " ADDRESS " FOR THE OPENING OF DR WEIR'S LECTURES ON PHRENOLOGY TO THE STUDENTS OF ANDERSON'S UNIVERSITY, GLASGOW.‑LETTER TO DR FORBES ON ROM(HOPATRY.‑ARTICLES BY DR COMBE ‘° ON THE OBSERVATION OF NATURE IN THE STUDY AND TREATMENT OF DISEASE,°° IN THE BRITISH AND FOREIGN MEDICAL REVIEW.‑REMARK AS TO GIVING ADVICE IN REGARD TO THE PLAN OF A WORK.‑LETTER TO RICHARD COBDEN, ESQ., M.P., ON THE INJURIOUS EFFECTS OF EXCESSIVE MENTAL EXERTION ON HEALTH.‑LETTER TO HORACE MANN ON EDUCATION.‑LETTER TO LORD DUNFERMLINE ON AIR MANN'S REPORT.‑DR COMBE GOES TO KINGSTON‑ON‑THAMES.‑INTERVIEW WITH MR COBDEN.‑REMARKS ON FREE TRADE AND THE NATURAL LAWS OF MAN.‑RETURNS TO EDINBURGH BY CORK, DUBLIN, LIVERPOOL, AND GLASGOW.‑REMARKS ON THE COVE OF CORK AS A LOCALITY FOR INVALIDS; ON THE PEOPLE ; AND ON 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. Subsequently 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 remarkably 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 before this advice arrived without suffering from the exposure, 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 deafness, 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 consequence of languid circulation). An increase of nourishing 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, reduced him to such a state of weakness that he considered 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, about which you kindly interest yourself, is wonderfully good, considering that early in the spring I was kept alive for several weeks only by the very free use of brandy, wine, and beefsteaks, by night as well as by day! Within twenty‑four hours at the worst period, I consumed morn wine and brandy than in the five preceding years put together; for in general I could bear neither without 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 undistinguishable sound. In like manner I saw objects distinctly for a minute or so on opening my eyes, and then all outlines became confused, till I could distinguish nothing. It was the same with touch. The feeling of sinking was at times intense, 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 threequarters 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 effects of what I had previously taken. During this attack I could not for six weeks raise my head from the pillow without beginning 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 11th 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 Edinburgh during the spring, Dr Combe, in April, accompanied 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 relatives 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 perceptibly 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 expected 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 non.. You were never made to be a mere cumberer of the ground, or fruges consumere 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 stick to diplomacy, where you have a fine field before you both of usefulness and distinction. The old diplomacy of intrigue mast 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 savoir faire. 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 spectacles, 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 leading‑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 Guizot, 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 Phrenology 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 observation, 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 applicable, 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 interest 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 OF 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 extended tour through Belgium to the Rhine, with several of his relations, in July. But the weather, which had previously been fine, then became so very unfavourable, 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 “Vestiges 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 ‘ Vestigos of Creation' in the Edinburgh Review, and think that it demolishes the theory of transition development, which is that of the author. Many men, long before he was born, advocated the principle of the Creator acting in all his doings on general and unvarying laws, which is quite a different question 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 accomplish."

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 continued 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 November 1845, addressed to Miss A B‑7 on the death of a lady who had long.been one of his patients and friends. Only one portion of it is suitable for publication ; 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 nature abort 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 A:VDEftSON'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 conviction, 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 184, the managers of Anderson's University in Glasgow resolved to establish a lectureship of Phrenology in that Institution, in which " the relations of Phrenology to Physiology, Medicine, and Education," 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 Professors attached to it, in the session 1.844‑5, was 606, and the number of the students of anatomy was 124. In consequence of a memorial from the Glasgow Phrenological Society, the trustees of the late W. R. Henderson, 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 ‘1 Address" to the students, which, as the infirm state of his health prevented 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's firsrt course of Lectures on Phrenology in that lnstitution, 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 revival 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 Medical Review,' and rejoice that you have spoken out openly and honestly what you believe to be truth regarding both homoeopathy and ‘ allopathy.' 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 homoeopathy 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 possession of their stronghold, and merely oppose opinion to alleged stubborn fact. You followed this course with clairvoyance, and there stand on sure ground. With homwopathy, however, you have acted differently. 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 experience 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 homeeopathic 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 HOMEOPATHY, cSrC.

483

self as a mark to be shot at by both parties, and fenced yourself only on one side. I cannot get over the extreme improbability of such visionary doses having palpable effects: but then we are too ignorant to decide what may or may not be in nature ; and you admit that you have men of great talent, skill, learning, experience, and honesty, affirming their actual experience of active results, and can oppose nothing to that affirmation except your opinion. I have often said that if I were in practice, I should hold myself bound to test homoeopathic practice. It has established its claim to a fair hearing, and only useful knowledge can come out of an impartial and adequate trial of its powers.
" I have for years been deeply impressed with all you say regarding ordinary medical practice and science, and have earnestly wished to be able to write a book on the subject before being gathered to my fathers. My letter to our friend Clark on Medical Education in 1838, notices some of the defects and their causes ; and, in the beginning of 1842, after this last attack seemed to indicate the near approach of my exit, I felt doubly anxious to express my views, and wrote a long letter to my brother on the subject, to be made use of if I did not survive to bring them out in a more satisfactory form. Three months ago, also, feeling my mental condition somewhat improved, the desire to discuss the‑subject returned strongly upon me, and I wrote down whatever occurred to me in a note‑book to serve as material, and asked Sir James to point out, and request you to point out, anything that you or he considered deserving of notice in the present state of things. He never found leisure to answer my letter, and I went on without such aid, and have now filled some 80 pages 12mo, to be put together and published when Providence shall give me working power sufficient for the purpose. In these notes, and in my letter of 1842, the leading principle is, that medicine, as it now stands, is to a great extent a fallacy, and often a hurtful fallacy, because not in the least based on the order or laws of nature, and constantly interfering with rather than aiding them. I insist on the prime necessity of first studying the natural history of diseases, and, having done so, endeavouring to follow up the indications of Nature by placing every function under the conditions most favourable for its action, and to remove any obstructions in her way, but never to attempt to supersede her efforts, or substitute another method of cure for hers. As a specimen of what I mean, I subjoin a few extracts from my crude notes exactly as they stand. (Here extracts are given.)
" Having thus scribbled off reflections raised by your article, with the same freedom as you have used in the article itself, and for which, by the way, 1 give you high credit, I remain," &c.

484	ON THE OBSERVATION OF NATURE IN THE

This letter led to the publication by Dr Combe, of a paper " On the Observation of Nature in the Study and Treatment of Disease," in No. xlii. of the British and Foreign Medical Review.* It includes the letter addressed to his brother in 1842 ; and the following brief extract from the article exhibits the leading views which it was the aim of the writer to enforce :

" The one great principle, then, to which a comprehensive review of hommopathy, ‘ allopathy,' bydropathy, and all other systems of medicine, seems irresistibly to lead, is, that in all cases and on all occasions, Nature is truly the agent in the cure of disease; and that, as she acts in accordance with foxed and invariable laws, the aim of the physician ought always to be to facilitate her efforts, by acting in harmony with, and not in opposition to, those laws. Disease, as already remarked, is a mode of action of a living organism, and not an entity apart from it. In accordance with this view, experience shews that when we favour the return to a normal action by simply natural means, recovery will ensue in most cases, without the use of drugs at all. So far from being always necessary to a cure, drugs are required only where the power of Nature to resume her normal action proves inadequate or is impeded by a removable obstruction. Even then it is still Nature acting in accordance with her own laws that brings about the cure. She may be aided, but she ought never to be thwarted; and medicine will advance towards the certainty of other sciences only in proportion as we become saturated with this guiding principle."

His views were controverted in an able manner, but under some misapprehension, by Dr J. A. Symonds of Bristol, in No. xliv.,t to whom he replied in Nos. xlv. and xlvi. t and a rejoinder by Dr S. appeared in No. xlvi.§

** Vol. xxi., p, 505 ; April 1846. fi Vol. xxii., p. 557 ; October 1846. + Vol. xxiii., pp. 257 and 592 ; January and April 1847.

Ibid., p. 596. A pamphlet was subsequently published at Bristol in 1847, under the title of " A Few Remarks on the Expectant PreatTrcent of Disw8es, by AKEITHI," and may be regarded as an appendix to the controversy ; a brief and rather hostile criticism of it will be. found in the British and Foreign Medico‑Charurgical Review, No. i., January 1848, p. 257.

STUDY AND TREATMENT OF DISEASE.		485

These contributions by Dr Combe to the Review, were highly appreciated by its editor, and are among the best specimens of the soundness, depth, and comprehensiveness of the writer's understanding.

George Combe having been consulted by a friend on the plan of a work which he intended to write, applied to Dr Combe for his opinion, and received in answer the following characteristic note, dated 27th January 1846 :

	" When Bonaparte was expounding with great energy to General
Dessolles the plan of operations he wished Moreau to adopt in cross
ing the Rhine, Dessoles told him that his plan was ten times better
than Moreau's, but that it was not adapted to Moreau's genius, and
therefore he would do wisely to let Moreau follow his own, as he
would effect the end better by means of it, than by trying one uncon
genial to his own understanding. The criticism was approved of, and
I feel its applicability to		's plan. He will execute his own
better than yours or mine, even if ours be better in the abstract ; and
therefore I say, ‘ laissez le faire,' although my views differ from
his."

On the 10th of March 1846, he wrote to Mr Richard Cobden, M.P.. the following observations on the injurious influence of excessive mental exertion on health:

" MY DEAR SiR,‑My brother has shewn me your letter of the 7tli, and although personally unknown to you, I cannot refrain from expressing the satisfaction I feel at the improvement of your health, and still more at the determination you have formed to allow nothing to interfere with the means which may be requisite for its entire restoration. To all classes in this country, your life and health are of much importance ; for, morally and rationally, you exercise an influence over your fellow‑men, both at home and abroad, which no one can supply, and which, if you be spared, will do more for the diffusion of sound social feeling, and just and rational views of the real interests of men and nations, than could be effected by any existing ‘ party,' however liberal, in a generation. Believing this, it would be strange if I did not feel deeply interested in the permanent restoration of that health and energy of mind and body on which so much of the future must depend. Convinced as I am not only by your own narrative, but

486	ON THE INJURIOUS INFLUENCE OF EXCESSIVE

by the utter physical impossibility of any corporeal system going through the years of unremitting and anxious toil which you have done, without being severely shaken, and even endangered by it, I cannot too earnestly charge you to adhere unalterably to your resolution, to take a long period of repose amidst new objects and scenes, and in winter to resort to a milder climate. The present sacrifice, great as it must be to yourself and to the public, will count as nothing when the day of reckoning comes, and you find years of active usefulness repay the months spent in laying that foundation for the future, without which your superstructure will rest as upon the treacherous sand which yields at the very moment it seems most firm. When you were still engaged in active and exciting exertion, with new claims arising around you at every instant, it would have been in vain to preach moderation and care. Feeling, as you did, strength for the work, you could not see that it was the nearly‑exhausted strength of an over‑stimulated nervous system. But the interval of illness and repose has fortunately allowed the excitement so far to subside, as to give you a more accurate view of your real condition; and if it shall lead you to act wisely in time, and with that foresight and decision which your character indicates, I for one shall rejoice that ‘ you have been afflicted !' I have no wish, however, to alarm you, and no reason. 1 believe it is yet time to be prudent and reap the permanent reward; but the course followed should be clear, unhesitating, and of sufficient duration to enable Nature to repair thoroughly the ravages already made.
" I am not aware who your medical adviser is; but from what you say of his hints, I am thankful you are in the hands of one who apparently knows what he is about, and is not disposed to trifle when he sees an enemy advancing against his friend.
" I have observed so much of the evil from which I should like to see you saved, that I am perhaps unconsciously going a step too far in writing to you thus freely. But you will, I trust, forgive me. My brother himself suffered severely from long‑continued over‑exertion in an excellent cause, and remained blind to his danger till the excitement subsided, although it was often placed strongly before him for years. Fortunately, however, the collapse came in time to save him; and at the end of two or three years, he made up his lost stamina. Another example was that of Mr Whiteside, the Irish Barrister, who made one of the best speeches in defence of O'Connell. Unremitting over‑exertion had almost undermined his constitution, and his labours during the trial were followed by greatly impaired energies. The excitement and eclat, and the increase of business, kept him up for a time, and blinded him to his real condition. Chance

MENTAL EXERTION ON HEALTH.		487

threw him in my way the autumn before last, when he came to Scotland to relax. I urged him then most earnestly to throw business to the dogs, and to spend the winter in a milder climate, far from courts and excitement. He could not bring his mind to the sacrifice. In vain I urged, that ambition could be gratified only by continuing to live. He would try, he said, and cut and run, if he felt it necessary. He returned to his business, and the consequence was, that after a slight exposure to cold in March last year, inflammation in a small part. of one lung was developed, and, from his deficient stamina, became nearly fatal. I saw him in the beginning of June in Dublin, a confirmed invalid, but thought it still possible for him to escape, if he would be submissive to advice. I joined my entreaties and expostulations as a friend to those of Sir Henry Marsh, and induced him to go to the Continent. In London he saw Sir James Clark, who backed us stoutly, and told him that he must winter in Italy, and not shew face in England for a year, if he wished for either life or promotion. He reluctantly consented, and notwithstanding sundry imprudences arising from a mercurial temperament, he wrote lately from Naples, that he was in more vigorous health than for many years past.*
" Another painful and instructive example was that of the late Dr James Hope of London, a fellow‑student of mine. Ambitious of being the first in his profession, he terribly overtaxed an ‘ iron constitution,' on which he relied for his defence against Nature. When

* Mr Whiteside passed a second winter in Rome, by which his health was completely restored; and while this work is in the press, he has given a public proof of the unimpaired energy of his mental powers in a very able publication, under the title of " The Past and the Present: an Address delivered at a Meeting of the Working Classes' Association (Belfast) on October 22, 1849." In it he pays the following eloquent tribute to the merits of the subject of this memoir:—" Reviewing and comparing the present with the past, we have one important class of labourers in the field of humanity to notice and to bless‑the sanitary reformers‑and, foremost among them, must ever be named, with grateful respect, the late Dr Andrew Combe. Like some of the great men whom I have referred to, he was of weak constitution, yet he preserved his life long enough to teach mankind how to prolong theirs. Gifted with a high order of intellect, a higher moral nature, a rare judgment, and a generous spirit of philanthropy, his thoughts, his writings, and his actions, were all directed to make his fellow‑creatures wiser, healthier, happier, than he found them. His style of composition was lucid and persuasive, the matter abundant, the subject all‑important‑the physiology of life."

488	LETTER TO MR HORACE MANN,

urged to desist and go abroad for a year, he replied, that to do so
would be to forfeit all for which he had laboured, but that he would
spare himself as much as he could. In another year he was in his
grave, at the age of forty; thus cutting off, perhaps, thirty years of
fame and usefulness, which might otherwise have been within his
easy reach. By acting differently, I have reached my forty‑ninth year,
although condemned as consumptive in 1820, and ever since an in
valid. I have not done much, certainly, but have done something in
a small way, which I felt to be worth living for. It is only the other
day, in a letter to a friend, I was expressing my thankfulness to have
been spared another year from last March, when I seemed to be near
my end; and the occasion was the reading the concluding night's
debate, and your admirably‑toned speech on the repeal of the corn
laws, and the adoption of the principle of free trade. On look
ing forward to the probable results of the discussion and vote, upon
generations yet unborn, I felt that now, come my day of departure
when it might, I could rejoice in the consciousness that a gigantic step
had been made in the progress of human happiness and improvement,
and that I owed you and those engaged with you in the great strug
gle a deep debt of gratitude. In the immediate money results of the
measure, many are doomed, I believe, to disappointment, while com
paratively few foresee the most valuable of its probable consequences.
'1 ‘o guide and assist in working out these, by promoting other mea
sures of a kindred nature, your presence and exertions will be of
paramount importance ; and it is to preserve you for a long future
that I venture to urge, so strongly, that timely prudence which seems
in your case to be so much required. Your own mind will draw the
necessary conclusions from the examples I have mentioned, and I need
not inflict any disquisition upon you regarding them. I have already
sufficiently trespassed upon your time, and sball leave my brother to
add any hints from his own experience which he may think likely to
be useful."

On 30th April, Dr Combe wrote to Mr Horace Mann, secretary to the Board of Education in Massachusetts, the following letter on his Ninth Report, printed by the Legislature of that state. As it contains observations on education, of general and permanent interest, it is here presented to the reader:—

" MY DEAR CiR,‑I cannot resist the desire I feel to write you a few lines expressive of the great gratification I have experienced in

ON HIS REPORT ON 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 admiration 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 addresses itself at once to intellect and to feeling, because it is a transcript 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 occupied 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 observing realities, to feel sure that the anticipated results actually follow. You combine 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 comparison 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 applications; and its influence in supplying him with guiding principles is conspicuous in every work that proceeds from his pen.‑G. C.

" 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 eloquent, 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 rankgrowing 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 finding 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, unfortunately, 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 God'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, professional as well as general, social, and political ; and 1 envy the power of those who, like you, are able to contribute so energetically to its development. You are labouring in a cause which will insure for you the gratitude of generations yet unborn ; and I cannot help expressing 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 follows :—

490	LETTER TO MR HORACE MANN.

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 DUNFERMLINE.		491

means to recommend Mr Mann to send over a good many copies, and if this cannot be done, we think it ought 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 position 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 resembles 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 encouragement for the future, in attempting educational improvement.
" It is very gratifying to me to receive the expression of your Lordship's conviction, that the cause of secular education is decidedly advancing, and that something will be done commensurate with its importance ; and I most heartily agree with you in looking to it as the best security for the property, social order, and happiness of the country. Even Dr Candlish now professes his willingness to receive secular education from the Government without stigmatising it as ‘ godless' 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 visit. The weather was fine, and he had regained

* Dr Hodgson republished " Report of an Educational Tour in Germany, &c. By Horace Mann;" Simpkin, Marshall, and Co., London, 1846. A notice of Mr Mann's personal history is given in the Phrenological Journal, vol. xix., 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 brother, 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 without 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 agitation were acting merely on the dictates of good sense, general information, and acute intellect, sharpened by interest in the subject, and a belief that good to themselves, as well as to the nation, would ensue. 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 whieh their present doctrines were equally applicable, many who are now eloquent in denouncing illiberality in all its shapes, might, I fear, under the influence of prejudice 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 intellectual 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 discussions, and has indirectly helped many to a clearer perception of truths which they believe themselves to have discovered by their own common sense. But I believe the number of those who consciously found on the natural laws is small. Every truth brought out by a knowledge of these laws looks so plain and sensible, that many minds take

REMARKS 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 Combe 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, regarding 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 Liverpool 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 pertinacity 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 advantages as an invalid resort, and also to get a view of the experimental 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 situation to make it worth an invalid's while to give up home for its benefits, 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 enormous 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 Liverpool on Thursday 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 big 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 sandbank, 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 XXVIII.

LETTER FROM DR COMBE TO MISS DUNVILLE, ON THE EVILS OF ISO
	LATING CHILDREN IN THEIR EDUCATION.‑LETTER TO MR JOHN
	SCOTT, ON THE QUALIFICATIONS NECESSARY FOR A SUPERINTENDENT
	OF A LUNATIC ASYLUM.‑LETTER TO GEORGE COMBE ON INTRO
	DUCING RELIGION INTO COMMON SCHOOLS.‑DR COMBE'S EFFORTS
	IN RELATION TO A LAWSUIT IN THE COURTS OF PARIS, AT THE
	INSTANCE OF THE PHRENOLOGICAL SOCIETY AGAINST DR ROBERT
	VERITY.‑STATE OF DR COMBE'S HEALTH IN OCTOBER AND NOVEM‑

BER 1846.

ON the 9th of August 1846 Dr Combe wrote to Miss Dunville the following letter, on the evils of isolating children in their education:—

" I trust that you will have 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 isolating children within their own family circle, however small, as if no other children were good enough to be their companions. It cultivates selfishness and feebleness of character, by destroying the elasticity 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 neighbourhood 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 much good and little harm to their companionship. In morality 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 true to nature at all ages. Hence, fences are much less

496	QUALIFICATIONS FOR THE

needed than is supposed. As we grow 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 advantages 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 superintendent 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 qualifications 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 instrument 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 present, there can be no efficient ministration on the part of the subordinates ; 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 common kindness and common sense, it is not difficult to present the external features of order and comfort ; but it is an order which is constantly 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 individual care and attention might have been roused to healthful hope and activity. It wants the prompt and life‑like aspect which characterises 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 individually 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 number 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 discharge all the duties equally well, aided only by visits from anon‑resident physician. When in Ireland last year, I found that it had even been proposed that Government should sanction such an arrangement 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 constitution, 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 enable 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 qualified 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 1

498 QUALIFICATIONS FOR SUPERINTENDENT OF AN ASYLUM.

we form an opinion of the condition of the patient, and they can become 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 resorted 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 happiness 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 frequent 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 Gillespie 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 Cobden proposed 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

Live on the plan, as beyond Dr Combe's strength; and he passed the remainder of the autumn of 1846 at Dunoon, 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 Forfarshire, on the subject of the

INTRODUCTION OF RELIGION INTO COMMON SCHOOLS.

His remarks were called forth by reading the manuscript of a pamphlet by his brother, on the right and duty of Government to educate the people.

" The most ticklish question concerns the propriety 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 claiming 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 conviction has long been, that it is impossible and unnatural to separate religious from secular instruction, because no such distinction exists in rerum natura, and to attempt to enforce one, is to fight against a shadow. Keep in mind, that we are not entitled to represent religion 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 professors, 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 influenced 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 extremis in February 1845, this truth came so vividly before me in connection with the ‘ Physiology of Digestion,' which I was then revising, that I recollect attempting to tell you, that I considered a proper exposition of science and religion to be inseparable and identical ; and that I wished much to have the power of bringing out their connection in a more palpable way than had ever been done before. Since then, I have often been haunted by the same desire, but without 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, natural 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 religion in our schools ? I say, No. I advocate strongly teaching religion, 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 impressed 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. Each 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 rest 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 alonelet us, therefore, exclude his religion altogether,' B, C, and D will instantly join hands with A, and exclaim against the exclusion, because, 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 t8e points of their agreement."

Dr Combe pursued the subject in the following letter, dated the 24th October, which is perhaps not surpassed in value by any that he ever wrote. It was addressed 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 21 st 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, because 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. Indeed, it was only in February 1850, while preparing the present work for the press, that the copy calve under his notice. The identity of views contained in the following letter and in George's two pamphlets subsequently published under the titles of ~~ The Relation between Religion and Science,"4 and ~° What should Secular Education embrace ?" fi 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 my letter of 22d, nor can I now; but 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.		j' 8vo, pp. 36,

5502	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 separation 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 God 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 remaining two are church dogmas, untrue, dangerous to salvation, and deserving 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 religious 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 SCHOOL.

503

piness, nor are his feelings interested in securing obedience and gratitude to God as a moral and religious duty in return. The arrangements of nature are taught simply as ‘knowledge' coming from nobody, and leading only to worldly advantage, not personal happiness. Religion, 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 teachers and taught, under the present national system, is, that secular knowledge and religion are distinct, and, have no natural connection; 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 religious, and calculated, necessarily, to bring the creature and the Creator into more immediate contact, and to develope feelings of love, admiration, reverence, and submission to the Divine will. Let it be proclaimed and understood that the inevitable tendency of knowledge is to lead the mind to the Creator, and that wherever it is taught without 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 proclaimed to the four corners of the earth, that education, rightly conducted, is religious in the highest degree, although embracing none of the tenets peculiar to sects or parties, and that a ‘ godless education' 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 education, 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 show that the sticklers for exclusive church‑education are the real authors of ‘ a gigantic scheme of godless education,' in attaching such importance to their own peculiar tenets on certain abstract points, that rather, than yield the right of conscience to others, they are willing to consign 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 education. 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 knowledge ; and if they be allowed to maintain longer the wall of separation 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 denounce them as the obstructers and enemies of religious education, because they refuse to allow any exposition of the Divine wisdom, and arrangements, 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 exhibit 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 sentiments might be nourished with the choicest food pari 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 inculcated 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 prepare 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 educational institutions, we are so far from wishing to exclude religion itself, that our chief desire is to see all education rendered much more religious than it has ever been, or ever can be, under the present system. To make religion bear its proper fruit, it must become 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

l

INTO COMMON SCHOOLS.

505

effort, but necessarily. God is the creator and arranger of all things; and wherever we point out a use and pre‑arranged design, we necessarily point to Him. If we can then shew that the design has a benevolent 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, calculated to gratify, in the highest degree, our sentiments of wonder, 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 confidingto 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 manifestations 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 sectarian education, as the only one allowable, are the great stumblingblocks in the way of true religion, and that the ignorance which they cherish is the grand source of that apathy and irreligion against which they clamour so lustily. Science is by them reviled and despised as merely human knowledge. The epithet is ludicrously false and illogical. All knowledge is divine. All knowledge refers to God, or to God'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 relate 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 there is none other) is not of human but of Divine origin. If man invents notions and styles them knowledge, 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‑truth either in physics or philosophy, either by accident or by design, he is certain that God is its author, and that if seen in its true relations to himself and to creation, it will be found characterised by the wisdom, power, and goodness of its divine source.

506	ON THE INTRODUCTION OF RELIGION

Nothing can shake him in this belief. Stigmatize him as you will, his faith will remain firm and unhesitating, because he knows the attributes 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 hewishes even to brew or to bakewith profit and success, let him study the laws of fermentation 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 unchangeableness 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

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4i;

INTO COMMON SCHOOLS.

507

watchfulness over us are equalled only by His attributes of benevolence 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 cultivators and teachers refuse to mix up with it certain dogmas of an abstract nature, on which the greatest differences of opinion prevail among the numerous sects which constitute the religious world! The truths on which all agree‑truths proceeding from, and leading directly to God as their author and source, and replete with blessings to man‑are to be deliberately excluded and denounced, and the disputed 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 cultivation ; for the burden of the complaints of all so‑called evangelical 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?
" It may be said that, as now conducted, education, when not accompanied 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 far 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 enforced 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 accordance 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 fulfilling 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‑education 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 external 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 orbits 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 disputed 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 supersede 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 Nature is expounded; the more easily will the true bearings of Christianity 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 doctrines were not in harmony with his nature and constitution. And therefore, even if education were to be confined solely to religious instruction, the most successful way would still be to begin by cultivating 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.

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arithmetic, and the communication of the elements of knowledge without 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 influence 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 teaching the children, let us begin by educating their parents. By perseverance 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. No 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 not their applications to, and bearings on, daily and hourly conduct. Veneration has been hitherto supposed to have its true scope in the adoration of the Deity; but its more important and equally elevated use in prompting to willing submission to His laws and authority as an earnest of our sincerity, has been almost overlooked. The religious and moral feelings have never been made acquainted with their own intimate 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 show 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 conviction 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 is a unit‑a compound unit, no doubt,‑but still a being, all 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

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 devoted 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, public spirit and virtuous indignation were his only inducements 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 newspaper of 11th September 1847, and with a slight correction which has now been made, it is substantially correct.

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 country, 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

LAWSUIT AGAINST DR ROBERT VERITY.		5511

" Dr Roberton, a native of Scotland, resided upwards of twentyfive years in Paris, where he practised his profession, and left a fortune 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 expenses.
" 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 X15,000 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 concerning 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 specific 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 foreigner, the tribunals of France are incompetent to pronounce a sentence of personal condemnation against him, and that the order to consign, with a penalty attached to it, amounted to such a condemnation. As the order of 8th August 1842, ordering Dr Verity to consign the residue of the succession for safe custody, had not been appealed 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 foregoing 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 authority, 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 Générale du Royaume, 1847, Première Partie, p. 345. The judgment as there given is as follows:—" LA Coux ;‑Vu l'art. 14 c. civ. ;‑Attendu qu'il n'est pas contesté que le demandeur en cassation et les défendeurs sont étrangers, et que le procès engagé entre eux est relatif à la succession d'un étranger; ‑Que le débat ne portait que sur des valeurs mobilières ;Attendu que la demande sur laquelle a statué l'arrêt attaqué était une demande à fin de condamnation personnelle de Verity, laquelle pouvait être exécutée sur ses biens propres ;‑Que l'arrêt attaqué ne se borne point, comme celui du 8 août 1842, à ordonner le dépôt provisoire des valeurs litigieuses, mais condamne personnellement Verity, qui avait déclaré ne plus être dépositaire des valeurs inventoriées ou de leur produit réalisé, à verser à la caisse des consignations une somme déterminée et 50 fr. par chaque jour de retard ;‑Attendu qu'une pareille décision n'a plus le caractère d'une simple mesure conservatoire, que des juges incompétents au fond aient pu ordonner ;Attendu que les tribunaux français sont incompétents pour statuer sur une contestation entre étrangers et relative ,à la succession d'un étranger:—‑D'où il suit que l'arrêt attaqué a méconnu les règles de la compétence et expressément violé l'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 consign, 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, ând 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 competent 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 jurisdiction over foreigners who have acquired a domicile within their territories, 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, whir=.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 consequence 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 unfavourable 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 circumstances, 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 Edinburgh, who, it is believed from time to time urged his Lordship to give it consideration ; but, so far as thé

LETTER TO SIR JAMES CLARK.

5515

Society has been able to learn, nothing has been done except 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 railway 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 sufficient 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 circulation 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, however, in no way suffering or unhappy, but merely stupid and flat. My digestion is not so vigorous as usual, and nutrition is also impaired. My diminished mental power is the greatest evil I am labouring under."

Again, on the 4th of November, he wrote from Edinburgh to Sir James on the same subject :—

" Many thanks for yours of lst, 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 difficulty 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 shows 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

5516	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. Professional occupation I dare not resort to, because experience has shown 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 themselves 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 external 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 invalids can do.' My mind, unfortunately, is not a spring always pouring 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 interposing 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 December, and come home by the United States, it would present something 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 otherwise, 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 move somewhere by sea, a proceeding not attended with much risk. Sometimes I think seriously, What does it matter what I do, seeing that I am good for so little as it is? but I am thankful, nevertheless, for the great comfort I enjoy, and the many alleviations I possess. If I could write, it would be something, for I have many ideas floating in my head; but I am incapable of sufficiently‑sustained working to bring them out.
" As to the south of England, I feel as if it would be neither fish nor flesh. If I leave home at all, I would rather seek something good enough to compensate what I leave behind. Be easy about my driving. 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 condition is painfully correct. His friends saw a perceptible decay in his mental vigour, as well as in his bodily strength. His power of attending to new subjects was much limited, and, in consequence, his judgment, 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 exhaustion. In consequence, his later writings were penned chiefly in short portions, at times when by repose 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 11118 VISIT.‑ARRIVES IN LIVERPOOL, AND PROCEEDS TO SCOTLAND.DEATH OF HIS ELDEST SISTER, MRS YOUNG.‑IS ENGAGED IN WRITING 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 William, 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 project. 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 nervous 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. idly, I have a strong wish to see my brother William 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. 4thly, I might stay five or six weeks, and yet leave before intense heat sets in. My grounds of doubt are the kind of bustle that. Jonathan lives in, and

VOYAGE TO NEW YORK.

f

519

the heat. The latter, with quiet, I would not fear much; but were it and bustle conjoined, I should not like it. My 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 bolt at once if I find any probability of the change being attended with risk. I have 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 bold 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 accommodation 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 unwholesome 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 consider, 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 Air 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 favourable 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 accordingly, along with his brother and niece, sailed up the river to West Point. The uncommon heat of the season, however, and the unavoidable fatigue and exposure 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 New England; and on 8th June he commenced his homeward voyage, on board the “Marmion," 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 you, 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 rejoiced 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 remaining, 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 remain 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 excursion, I shall in no way regret having made it. I undertook it 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 returning 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 convenience sacrificed to splendour ; and the beauty of the thing is, that, all the sailing being in smooth water, one can enjoy the splendour along with the convenience, which is not’ the case in our seagoing 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 generally, 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 twelvemonth 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 individuality of character displayed by the latter, struck me most forcibly from the first, and remain prominently in my mind still. This characteristic 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 independence. 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 therefore abhor the one in common with the other, the radical civility is there in greater force than one would be led to anticipate. This proceeds 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 employés ; 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 showing 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 fatiguing 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 explain 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 TN 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 effuvia 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 newspapers. There were other unseen crevices through which it penetrated 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 Sunday 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 recognising 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 paying visits to relations in the neighbourhood of Edin

NATURE AND CAUSES OF SHIP‑FEVER.		52 5

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'Culloch the political economist, and continued to carry on business at Gorgie Mill. Dr Combe was ever welcomed by them as their guest, with the same warmth of affection and attention to his wants and comforts, 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 preparing, at such intervals as his health allowed, a communication on the nature and causes of the ship‑fever which, in the spring and summer of 184'7, 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 : “ 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 last he ever

* According to a Report published by Mr Buchanan, chief emigrant‑agent at Quebec, there arrived at that port and Montreal, in 1847, up to the 10th of November, 3752 emigrants from Scotland, 32,338 from England, 54,329 from Ireland, and 7697 from Germany;

total, 98,106. Of these there died on the passage,		5,293
Admitted into Grosse Isle Quarantine Hospital, 8563, of
	whom died,
Died in Quebec up to 9th October,
Died in Montreal up

Total deaths, 		13,365

The subsequent mortality on the inland route is considered to have raised the proportion of deaths to at least 1 in 5 before the end of the year.

to 1st November,

3,452
1,041
3,579

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 possible, 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 before 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 immediately establishing a Board of Health, and adopting such preventive measures as might render impossible a recurrence of such miseries as had lately been endured. It seemed as if he felt that his recent opportunity of witnessing the condition of the Irish emigrants on board the vessel in which he sailed from Liverpool to New York laid him under a kind of obligation to record his experience for the public benefitand 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, notwithstanding 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 appeal.'

* 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 operation 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 diarrhoea under which Dr Combe suffered, baffled all applications which the skill and experience of Drs Scott and Farquharson could suggest. By these valued friends he was attended with assiduous care; but towards midnight, on the 9th of August 1847, he tranquilly 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 our 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. Your absence, and that of my brother James, have been perhaps the only causes of regret in the circumstances, 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 circumstances, and there never was the least ,jarring 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 formidable, and its features were all along different from those of the previous 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, mentioning 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 showed 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 showed formerly‑tbat is to say, he perceived clearly that now there was an intelligible and adequate cause for death ; and he was perfectly resigned. His whole being, so to speak, was imbued with the conviction 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 approve of," &c.

It may perhaps lend an additional interest to his Letter on Ship‑Fever, to mention, that the noxious influence of the effluvia on board the “Montezuma" in all probability hastened his death. The miasma of the crowded hold, penetrating into the cabin, is supposed to have 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 terminated 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.

HIS CHARACTER.			529

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.
BORN 27TH OCTOBER 1797.

DIED 9Ta 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.	His CHARACTER.	531

Dr Combe was of a tall stature, his height being upwards 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 nervousbilious, 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 suitable acknowledgments to such as he felt himself indebted to for special services. He also made the following bequests, which are published for the purpose of letting it be seen what institutions he thought most deserving or requiring his support. " I leave X100 sterling to the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, an eminently useful institution; £50 to the Royal Edinburgh Lunatic Asylum; £50 to the Destitute Sick Society of

4' 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.

Edinburgh; £50 to the Deaf and Dumb Institution; £50 to the Asylum for the Blind; 150 to the Phrenological Society of Edinburgh; and £20 to the Model Infant School in the Vennel. I select these as institutions 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 therefore obliged to lay out less money for charitable purposes than I ought to have done, and the only compensation 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 less 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 those 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 love of independence, and uncertainty about the future, his high feelings of honour, and his strict sense of justice, in regard to his pecuniary remuneration as a medical man, never deserted him. While this work was in the press, one of his patients informed me, that having sent him what he considered as only an adequate honorarium 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 circumstances by no means called 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 Phrenological Journal, vol. xx., p. 373, he introduces the following remarks on Dr Combe's character, which are in themselves so just, and at the same time so modestly stated, that his present biographer (precluded as he is, by relationship and circumstances, from offering any commentaries of his own) considers himself justified in presenting them to the reader:

" As a friend, Dr Combe was eminently distinguished by steadfastness, 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 benevolence, 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 impose 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 respect, 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 stomach. 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 character, 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 rights, 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 armed of the members of his profession generally‑That ‘the medical observer, 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 adapting 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 mans of them, the comforts and solid enjoyments of life; and in proportion as they increased he enlarged his expenditure, but never at the dictates of mere ostentation.

" He was fond of harmless mirth, and possessed no inconsiderable talent for humour. In the domestic circle this quality displayed itself in streams of good‑natured jocularity, and in his familiar correspondence 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 somntilent burden, celebrating their achievement by dancing and shouting around it.

1° 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 ‘ sweet sounds' as are expressive of tender, plaintive, or sprightly emotions. With respect to the fine arts generally, a similar statement 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 discriminating 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 portion of his leisure to their study. Of their high dignity and importance 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 effect is most amply displayed, and which have the directest bearing upon human welfare. Such are physiology, mental philosophy, chemistry, physics, and political economy. To him the attraction of these sciences was not a little increased 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 I only strong for disputations 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 intermixed. 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 prevention 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.'t 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‑

I British and Foreign Medical Review, vol. vii., p. 117. t 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 difficulty. 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 admiration 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 belonged to that rare class of physicians who present professional knowledge 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 earnestness, lucidity, and simplicity, characteristic of the author ; they present hygienic principles with a clearness for which we know no parallel in medical literature. To this must be ascribed much of the extraordinary 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 natural 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 CHARACTER.

certainly few have stood in his grade, fewer still become his superiors.
" 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. Whatever, 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 expression 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 threatened 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 irritability attended his infirm health; no jealousy did he feel regarding those whom superior strength enabled to outstrip him in the professional 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 unobtrusive‑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 and more angelic being seemed already to be shed."

The article here quoted, is reprinted in the concluding number of 7'he 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.t 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, No. IV., p. 560.
t Only the two paragraphs descriptive of Dr Combe's character, and which are extracted above, were written by Mr Chambers.

538	REPORT OF POST‑MORTEM EXAMINATION,

CHAPTER XXX.

REPORT OF THE POST‑MORTEM 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 depressed 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 adherent to the pleura costalis by scattered and firm adhesions. 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 removed. 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 cretaceous matter. The surface was black, and this colour was found to pervade the pulmonary texture generally; the cellular appearance was, however, still visible. The upper lobe was dense in structure and hollowed out into numerous caverns opening into each other in some instances, in others single and of smaller size. These extended from the summit of the lung, and chiefly occupied the anterior part, and opposite the first and second 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 bronchial tubes were particularly strong, and the circular ones in the smaller. The caverns themselves were remarkably 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 emphysema.
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 greyishcoloured thick fluid. The colon and rectum were thickened throughout, and covered with minute ulcerations, 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. HANDYSIDE, F.R.S.E.

A. THE CRANIUM.‑I. Texture thin, the tables having closely coalesced; excepting, 1st, at the frontal sinuses, which are large and well developed; and, My, 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, lst, on the left side of the vertex, the cranium is quite diaphanous; 2ddy, the area of the cranium to the left of the mesial line is greater than on the right side; and, idly, the internal occipital protuberance and the crucial and lateral grooves on the two sides, are unequal 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 fissures in the latter than is usual: depth of longitudinal fissure at splenium of corpus callosum, 24 inches; depth at genu of corpus callosum, 18 inch ; 2dly, the sulci (anfractuosities) deeper than usual ; greatest depth in left hemisphere, 5/8 inch; depth in right hemisphere,

inch ; 3dly, the lobes and lobules, and other anatomical features of the encephalon, very strongly marked.

II. Proportion. 1st, the left side of the encephalon 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 cranium and its contents, were interred in the family burial‑ground in St Cuthbert's churchyard, immediately behind the manse.

REMARKS ON THE PREPARED SKULL OF DR COMBE. 541

tions) of the opposite sides approach more to symmetry then usual.

III. Bulk.‑Greatest Length, 7 inches. Greatest Breadth, 5‑6 inches. Greatest depth, vertically to base of inferior lobe, 4a inches‑vertically to base of cerebellum, 48 inches.

IV. Weight (including pia mater, 57 oz. avoirdupois, [being about 7 oz. above the average; in Dr Chalmers 53 oz., Dr Abercrombie and Baron Cuvier, each 63 oz., and Baron Dupuytren, 64 oz.]

V. Structure, perfectly normal, including the membranes 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 ON THE PREPARED SKULL, BY DR JAMES COX.

The dry skull, on careful examination, presents the following characters:—The texture of the bone is remarkably 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 remarkably thin, except in the frontal region, where they have acquired a thickness more than double that of the parietal and occipital bones. This increased thickness extends throughout the frontal bones, but is greatest over the frontal tuberosities, and is owing to an apparently abnormal deposit of osseous matter between 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 attention but for the decided thickening of the frontal bones. It is sufficient, however, completely to remove the diaphaneity 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 longitudinal 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 appears, but in diminished quantities, along the course of the transver se 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.

Greatest circumference, . From occipital spine to top of nasal bone, over the vertex,
	......	ear to ear over the vertex,

Calliper Measurements. From Philoprogenitiveness to Individuality,
	......	Concentrativenèss to Comparison,
	......	Ear to Philoprogenitiveness,
. . . . . .. . . . . .. . . Individuality,
	...............	Benevolence,
	...............	Firmness,
	......	Destructiveness to Destructiveness,
	......	Secretiveness to Secretiveness,
	......	Cautiousness to Cautiousness,
	......	Ideality to Ideality,
	......	Constructiveness to Constructiveness,
	......	Mastoid process to mastoid process,

Inches.
21,1,
138
128

41,

51

51 5
58 5j 41 44

418

DEVELOPMENT OF DR COMBE'S BRAIN.		543

ESTIMATE OF THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE BRAIN OF DR COMBE.

The terms indicating size, increase, small, 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 anterior lobe, or region of the intellect, large.

THE ORGANS OF THE PROPENSITIES COMMON TO MAN AND ANIMALS,
COMPARED WITH EACH OTHER.

1. Amativeness, rather large.
2. Philoprogenitiveness, large.
3. Coneentrativeness, rather large.
a. Inhabitiveness, rather large.
4. Adhesiveness, large.
5. Combativeness, large.
6. Destructiveness, full.
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 Mon,&		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.

THE ORGANS OF THE INTEL

22. Individuality, rather full.
23. Form, rather large.
24. Size, rather large.
25. Weight,full.
26. Colouring, full.
27. Locality, rather large.
28. Number, full.

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.

LECTUAL FACULTIES COMPARED WITH

EACH OTHER.

29. Order, rather large.
30. Eventuality, rather full.
31. Time, rather full.
32. Tune, full.
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 dispositions of Dr Combe, and the development of his brain.
The size (above an average) corresponds to his general 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 important, 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 different 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 respect his brain was anomalous; for in it the convolutions forming the organs of the moral sentiments were rounder and larger, more plump and fully‑developed, than the convolutions constituting the organs of the animal propensities‑the reverse of the ordinary rule.
The middle fossw in which the organs of Alimentiveness and Destructiveness are situated are smaller than usual, in proportion to the dimensions of the occipital fôssoe and the super‑orbitar plate, and the external opening of the ear is high. This structure indicates a very moderate development of these two organs, and corresponds to his constitutional and habitual temperance, and his extreme dislike to war, and even to being present at surgical operations, mentioned by himself on

‘1’ See System of Plirenology, by G. Combe, vol. ii., p. 234.

PHRENOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS BY GEORGE 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 fossx, and in Dr Combe's brain was more largely developed than the organs of Alimentiveness and Destructiveness; 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 disposition from being rendered. too soft for active life by the smaller development of Destructiveness; which would have been the result, had either Combativeness or Firmness been deficient.
The large development of the organs of the domestic affections‑Amativeness, Philoprogenitiveness, and Adhesiveness‑enables the phrenologist to appreciate the extent of the sacrifice which he must have made in abstaining, 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 emotions which pervaded his whole being; while the addition 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 corresponds with his vigorous intellectual manifestations; 2 M

546 PHRENOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS BY GEORGE COMBE,

while the peculiar character of his intellect is in striking accordance with the preponderance of the organs of Concentrativeness, Causality, and Comparison, over those of Individuality and Eventuality. When he introduces 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 portions of the skull, of the cineritious matter of the convolutions 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 strongly 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.‑‑ This physiological fact is interesting and remarkable: “had the brain been as liable to absorption as the other tissues of the body, one day's abstinence would have been followed by fatuity." tt

* 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.

tt Chossat found that, on an average, a warm‑blooded animal loses about two‑fifths of its weight before it dies of hunger; and he calculated that, while the fat lost 0933 of its total amount, the blood lost 0750, the muscular system 0423, the organs of respiration 0222, the bones 0167, and the brain and spinal cord only 0019, 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 l'Inanition, p. 92. Paris, 1843.

+ 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 OUTLINE OF THE PHRENOLOGICAL FACULTIES, WITH 
THEIR USES
AND ABUSES.

Order I. FEELINGS.

Genus I. PROPENSITIES‑ Common to man with the Lower Animals.

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. AMATIVENESS.‑Uses : It produces love between the sexes: Marriage 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. PHILOPROGENITIVENESS.‑Uses : Affection for young and tender beings.‑Abuses: Pampering and spoiling children.

3. CONCENTRATIVENESS.‑Uses: It concentrates and renders permanent emotions and ideas in the mind.‑Abuses: Morbid dwelling on internal emotions and ideas, to the neglect of external impressions.

3a. INHABITIVENESS.‑Uses: It produces the desire of permanence in place.‑Abuses: Aversion to move abroad.

4. ADHESIVENESS.‑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.	APPENDIX, NO. I.	_551

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, animate and inanimate, and to use for food animals in which life has been destroyed. Abuses : Cruelty, murder, desire to torment, 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 sublunary 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 themselves, until the judgment has approved of giving them utterance ; it is simply the propensity to conceal, and is an ingredient in prudence. Abuses : Cunning, deceit, duplicity, and lying.

8. ACQUISITIVENESS.‑Uses: Desire to possess, and tendency to accumulate; the sense of property springs from it.‑Abuses: Inordinate 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 independence, 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, ambition, thirst for praise independently of praiseworthiness.

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, unfounded apprehensions, despondency, melancholy.

13. BENEVOLENCE.‑UseS : Desire of the happiness of others, com

passion for the distressed, universal charity, mildness of disposition, and a lively sympathy with the enjoyment of all animated beings.‑Abuses: Profusion, injurious indulgence of the appetites and fancies of others, prodigality, facility of temper.

2. Sentiments proper to Man.

14. VENERATION.‑ Uses : Tendency to venerate or respect whatever is great and good; it gives origin to religious emotion.Abuses: Senseless respect for unworthy objects consecrated by time or situation, love of antiquated customs, abject subserviency to persons in authority, superstitious awe. To these Mr Scott adds, " undue deference to the opinions and reasonings of men who are fallible like ourselves; the worship of false gods, polytheism, paganism, idolatry."

15. FIRMNESS.‑Uses : Determination, perseverance, steadiness of purpose.‑Abuses: Stubbornness, infatuation, tenacity in evil.

16. CONSCIENTIOUSNESS.‑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. WONDER.‑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 astonishment ; belief in false miracles, in prodigies, magic, ghosts, and other supernatural absurdities. Note. Veneration, Hope, and Wonder, combined, give origin to religion ; their abuses produce superstition.

19. IDEALITY.‑‑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. WIT‑Gives the feeling of the ludicrous, and disposes to mirth.

21. IMITATION‑Copies the manners, gestures, and actions of others, and appearances in nature generally.

552

FEELING or TOUCH. TASTE. SMELL. HEARING. SIGHT.

APPENDIX, N0. I.

Order II. INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES.

Genus I. EXTERNAL SENSES.

Uses: To bring man into communication with external objects, and to enable him to enjoy them.‑Abuses : Excessive indulgence in the pleasures arising from the senses, to the extent of impairing 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 dimension and distance.

25. WEIGHT‑Communicates the perception of momentum, weight, and resistance ; and aids equilibrium.

26. COLOURING‑Gives perception of colours, their harmonies and discords.

Genus III. KNOWING FACULTIES WHICH PERCEIVE THE

RELATIONS OF EXTERNAL OBJECTS.

27. LOCALITY‑Gives 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‑Gives 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 arbitrary 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, resemblances, and differences.

35. CAUSALITY‑Traces the dependences of phenomena, and the relation of cause and effect.

APPENDIX, NO. II.

No. II.

Referred to on n. 130.

553

LIST OF DR COMBE'S CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE PHRENOLOGICAL JOURNAL (SOME OF WHICH WERE REPRINTED IN A VOLUME OF SELECTIONS

PUBLISHED IN 1836).

VOL. L‑1823‑4.

1. Bell on 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 Selection p. 276.

7. Observations on Secretiveness.‑No. 4, p. 611.

VOL. 11‑1824‑5.

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. 111‑1825‑6.

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, Feldtmann, 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.

s,

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, particularly 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 Temperaments.‑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 Phrenological 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‑Fisiologica‑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 embodied in Dr Combe's work on Mental Derangement.

APPENDIX, N0. II.

555

34. Notice of Blumenbach's " Decades Collectionis sure Craniorum Diversarum (pentium."‑No. 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.‑No. 26, p. 569.

37. Review of Macnish's " Philosophy of Sleep."‑No. 26, p. 576.

VOL. VIL‑1831‑2.

38. Review of Dr Abercrombie's " Inquiries concerning the Intellectual 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 embodied 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 Phrenological 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, Prevention, and Treatment of Intemperance, as a Form of Mental Derangement."‑No. 40, p. 624‑7.

49. Injuries of the Brain not always attended by manifest Disorders of Mind: Analogy between such Injuries and those of other Organs.‑No. 40, p. 636.

50. Dr Prichard and Phrenology: Cyclopaedia of Practical Medicine, article " Temperament."‑No. 40, p. 649.

APPENDIX, NO. II.	APPENDIX, NO. III.		5555%

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 l'Homme Aliéné appliqu6e à l'Analyse de l'Homme Social."‑No. 43, p. 259.
56. A Singular Dream.‑No. 43, p. 278.
57.
58.

Remarks on the Study of Insanity, &c.‑No. 44, p. 315‑17. 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 Tiedemann on a Comparison of Negro and European Skulls.‑No. 52, p. 627.

VOL. XL‑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. XIL‑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.

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. XVL‑1843.
75. Notice of Medical Journals.‑No. 77, p. 385.
76. Notice of Brigham on the Brain; Stark on the Responsibility of Monomaniacs; The Zoist, No. II. ; The People's Phrenological Journal; and The Phreno‑Magnet.‑No. 77, p. 396‑406.

VOL. XVIIL‑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 Students of Anderson's University.‑No. 87, p. 97.

LIST OF DR COMBE'S CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE TRANSACTIONS OP 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 Barclays Objections to Phrenology.‑P. 393.

No. III.

Referred to on p. 439.

SENSATION OF COLD IN DIFFERENT CLI'JIATES.

In an able article, entitled " Observations on the e, fects of Climate in the Production of Diseases of the Lungs, cEc., by Robert Lawson, AssistantSurgeon 47th Regiment," published in the Edin. Ned. and Surg. 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 feeling 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, N0. Ill.	APPENDIX, NO. 111.	559

" 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 absorbed 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 elasticity by the column of mercury it could support; and as the absolute weight of vapour that could exist in a given space is always proportional to its elasticity, the quantity which could exist in the same space, at diferent temperatures, is usually indicated by the corresponding 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 temperature 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 194. 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 proportional to the difference between the elasticity of vapour at the dew‑point, and at the temperature of the air: thus, were the temperature of the air 304, 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 734, 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

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 abstraction of heat from the body; they are variously combined in different climates, cold air being the chief refrigerating agent in cold climates, and in warm climates and seasons, evaporation. The injurious action of the latter is very much facilitated by the high temperature increasing the exhaling function of the skin, and thus, by rendering the surface moist, bringing it into the most favourable condition for evaporation to produce its greatest effect. The light clothing, too, employed in warm climates, is readily saturated with perspiration, and then, while it favours the increase of evaporation, affords a very insufficient protection to the body from its immediate effects.
" The refrigerating influence of evaporation is not altogether inoperative, even in the coldest weather. We often hear of a cold piercing wind, the effect of which on the sensations cannot be estimated by the indications of a thermometer; such a wind has universally a low dew‑point" (i. e., contains little moisture), " and that portion of air which passes through the dress, having its temperature raised, has its capacity for moisture at the same time vastly increased, its power of abstracting it from the surface is correspondingly great, and the heat removed by the evaporation being in addition to that removed by a current of air of a low temperature, the sensation of cold experienced is proportionally acute."
These principles explain some interesting facts commented on by Mr Lawson. The Statistical Reports on the Sickness, Mortality, and Invaliding in the Army, for example, " exhibit a prevalence of pulmonary disease in the West Indies, nearly as great, and a mortality far greater than is observed either in this country or Canada; and according to a subsequent one, this class of diseases is much more common and fatal in the Mediterranean than was previously supposed."
Mr Lawson's‑ principles may be applied in explanation of these facts as follows:—In Montreal, for example, the mean temperature of the winter months is 16’3 Fahr., but the dew‑point is low, the air is dry, the clothing is thick, and the food generally nourishing. The cold dry air supplies the lungs largely with oxygen, and the food with carbon. The combination of these produces heat largely. The thick clothing excludes, to a considerable extent, the contact of the air with the skin. The supply of heat, therefore, is pretty nearly equal to the abstraction, and chills are less liable to occur. In Kingston, Jamaica, again, the mean winter temperature is 78°‑5. " An

560

APPENDIX, NO. IV.

individual may be in such a state of health, that, with the dress usaTally employed in the West Indies, the heat produced in the system may be sufficient to replace that removed from the surface when he remains at rest; but should he simply move outside of his room into the wind, he would immediately be exposed to a loss of heat, in a given time, three or four times as great as what the powers of the system were capable of restoring, the inevitable consequence of which would be the reduction of the temperature of the surface (98°) nearly to that of the atmosphere (78°‑5), or, in other words, he would experience a decided chill. Such an occurrence is by no means uncommon in the West Indies, among‑persons debilitated by previous disease."
Mr Lawson concludes as follows:—‑" I trust I have shewn, that the causes of pulmonary diseases are sufficiently common in many warm climates, to render medical men cautious in their recommendation of certain localities, and particular in their injunctions to their patients to avoid all unnecessary exposure on their arrival in the place ultimately selected."

No. IV.

Referred to on p. 537.

LIST OF DR COMBE'S CONTRIBUTIONS TO " THE BRITISH AND FOREIGN

MEDICAL REVIEW," EDITED BY DR FORBES.

1. Review of Sir James Clark's " Treatise on Pulmonary Consumption."‑No. I., p. 70 ; Jan. 1836.
2. Review of "Parker on the Stomach in its Morbid States."No. XIII., p. 115 ; Jan. 1839.
3. Article on Phrenology.‑No. XVII., p. 190 ; Jan. 1840.#
4. Letter to the Editor, " On the Observation of Nature in the Treatment of Disease."‑No. XLIL, p. 505, April 1846.
5. Second Letter to the Editor, " On the Observation of Nature in the Study and Treatment of Disease," (in answer to a Letter by Dr Symonds in No. XLIV.)‑No. XLV., p. 257; Jan. 1847.
6. Third Letter to the Editor, " On the Observation of Nature in the Treatment of Disease."‑No. XLVI., p. 592; April 1847.

* This article was separately issued as a pamphlet, with the following title: " Phrenology Physiologically and Philosophically considered; with Reasons for its Study, and Directions for its Successful Prosecution. Reprinted from The British and Foreign Medical Review. London: John Churchill, 1840."

INDEX.

Abercrombie, Dr John, on " The Intellectual Powers," reviewed, 195, 199.
Academy, New of Edinburgh, 324.
Address to the Students of Anderson's University, 481.
Albert, Prince, 339.
America, North, voyage to United States of, 518.
Americans, remarks on, 521.
Anderson's University, Glasgow, Address on Phrenology to Students of, 481.
Andrieu8, Professor, 74, 223.
Approbation, effects of inordinate Love 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, 274, 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, 209 ; into German, 211.
Convalescence, letter to a patient in a state of, 288.
Cork, remarks on, 493.
Corn‑law, repeal of, remarks on 492.
Cog, Mrs, letters on the death of, 388, 390.
Cog, Miss, letters to, 253, 269 274. Letter from, on Dr Combe's death, 527.
Creation 1’ Vestiges of," 479.
Cyclopeadia 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 feelings, 165, 408. Prevention of, 239 430. Insidious inroads of, 297. A state not suitable for repentance, 406.

2N

5562	INDEX.	INDEX.	563

D'Orsey, A. J. D., letter to, 361.
Dumont, Prosper, 209.
Dunfermline Lord, letter to, on education, 490.
Dunville, William and Miss, 437, 495.
Dunville, Mrs, 471.
Dupuytren, Professor, remarks on, 56, 57,58.

Edinburgh, remarks on the Universisity, High School, and New Academy of, 324.
Edinburgh Review attacks Phrenology, 44, 46, 149.
Education, 169,176, 220, 282, 290. Medical, 311, 324, 341, 400, 483, 488.
Eminent men, cerebral development of, 113.
Esquirol, Professor, 68 72. His collection of skulls, 225. His health, 227.
Evils, mode of acting under unavoidable, 293.
Exercise, mental, as a means of preserving 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 becoming censors of each other, 300.
Fry, Mrs, remarks on, 436.

Gall, Dr, 82.
Goodness, active and passive, difference 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,
Homaeopathy, 297, 456 482.
Hope, Dr James of London, case of, 487.
Howard, Life of, remarks on, 436.
Hygiène, 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 Asylums.

Invalids, climates for, 279; in Madeira, 438 ; condition of, in voyage to Madeira, 464,
Italians, remarks on the, 105, 461.
Italy, travelling in, 461.

Jardin du Roi, lectures at, 61.
Jeffrey, Lord, his attack on Phrenology, 149.
Jones, Colonel, 118.

Kalley, Dr, imprisonment of, in Madeira, 466.

Leghorn, voyage to, 100, 702.
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. Description 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 institutions, remarks on, 363.
Montrose, Lunatic Asylum at, 229.

Napier, Macvey, declines Dr Combe's contributions to the Edinburgh Review, 184 ; also to the Encyclopxdia Britannica, 191.
Naples, Dr Combe's visit to, 208.
Negro and European brains compared by Tiedemann, 303.

Nervous system, necessity for exercise of, 369.
Newtons of Curriehill 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, 222 ; 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. Defends it against Dr Barclay,127. Size a measure ofpower, 150. Article on, in the British and Foreign Medical Review, 371. Influence of, on his religious 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 Roberton's legacy to, 511.
Physiology applied to Health and Education, work on, 235. On teaching it to children, 290.
Pisa, climate of, 460.
Plan of a work, remarks on, 485.
Post‑mortem 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 suitable 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. Advantages 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 postmortem examination of Dr Combe, 538.
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.
Spectral illusions, remarks on, 228.
Speirs, Graham, letter to, on 1° Private Lunatic Asylums," 378.
Spurzheim, Dr, 41, 44, 50, 206, 216, 223.
Steinhauer, sculptor, 362.
Stewart, Dugald, 41. Dr Combe's opinion of, 47.
Sunday in the house of Dr Combe's father, 9.
Superintendent of a lunatic asylum, on the qualifications of, 496.

Tait, William, letter to, 427.
Theatre, 401. Conduct of a patient in relation to, 480.
Tiedemann, commentary on his " Comparison of the Negro and European Brain," 303.

University of Edinburgh, 324.

Verity, Dr Robert, case of, 510.
‘° Vestiges of Creation," 479.

Welsb, Rev. Dr David, 476.
Whiteside, James, Queen's Counsel, case of, 487.
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 Contributions to the Phrenological Journal, &c., 553.
III. Sensation of cold, 557.
IV. List of his Contributions to the British and Foreign Medical Review, 560.

________________________________________
Printed by NEILL & CO., Edinburgh.

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