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Gentlemen of the Phrenological Society, --

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some will say, this was the force of habit; but habit only strengthened an original disposition. But I have another instance; there is, in the Institution under my charge, a man deaf and dumb, and almost entirely blind; there is a blind boy, also, who entered when but four years of age: now there could be no possible pleasure from interchange of thought between these two persons; there could be no advantage to either; and yet the blind child took great delight in being with the deaf and dumb man; the man loved to hold the child in his arms, and to keep near him for hours. The child was remarkable for his loquacity, his continual prattle, his inclination to make a noise in every possible way, in order to exercise his sense of hearing; but I observed that he never would speak to the deaf man, and when with him would be perfectly still. As the man once wandered into the streets, and took the child with him; I was obliged, for fear of harm, to break up the intimacy, but it cost me much labor to effect it.

I have no doubt, that if you ask the convicts at Charlestown whether they should rather hammer granite six hours daily, alone in their cells, or ten hours where they could gratify their feelings by being near to and in sight of their fellows, though without speaking to them, they would choose the latter. If one or two should dissent, then it would indicate a less activity of adhesiveness.

But this innate disposition of man, though in its origin and character like that which makes the animals gregarious, is as far above it as is his nature higher and nobler than theirs. He seeks not only for society, but for communion with his fellows; his soul yearneth for sympathy -- for close intercourse -- for a congenial soul with which to intertwine itself; for

"The heart, like a tendril, accustom'd to cling,
Let it grow where it will, cannot flourish alone;
But will lean to the nearest and loveliest thing
It can twine with itself, and make closely its own."

Philanthropy, friendship, and love, are closely connected with, and dependent upon this disposition of man, which is the foundation of all his social relations.

But this disposition, like every other, is blind, and requires the light of the intellect for its proper guidance and direction: it is the foundation of social union; but the superstructure raised upon it, will vary according to the intellectual and moral condition of the builders: it unites the savage tribe, and the refined nation; but how varied are their ties, and their relations!

Phrenology teaches, that all the institutions and regulations of the society, which is built upon this social principle should be formed with a view to the development of all the propensities, faculties, and sentiments of man in their due proportion, and in their natural order; or, in other words, should cultivate and develop his physical, moral, and intellectual nature. The society which effects this to the greatest possible number of its members, is in accordance with the principles of phrenology, and is good: that which calls into action any of these natures, and stimulates it to such a degree as to repress or prevent the due development of either of the others, is unphrenological, and bad.

The animal nature of man is the strongest; the posterior and inferior region of the brain is most developed; and this is wise. The first care of nature is for the whole race; this must be preserved and continued at all hazards; and hence we see that idiots, and imbeciles, although entirely deficient in the frontal and superior parts of the brain, in the perceptive and moral faculties, have always enough of the propensities to support vegetative and animal existence.

The lowest and most savage nations have the animal region of the brain fully developed, while the other parts are small; and the greater this disparity, the more barbarous and ferocious they are.

The safety and continuance of the race, and the life and interest of the individual being thus provided for by nature, the next in order come the perceptive faculties, which seem to be the lights and guides of the propensities, and, after them, are most developed. They are placed where guides should be, in the front of the head; but they merely guide the propensities to the means of the greatest gratification; hence that tribe of savages, whose intellect by nature or cultivation, has become superior to the neighboring tribes, will be most cunning and successful, but by no means less ferocious and animal; unless indeed the intellect perceives, that by restraint of one propensity, for instance, destructiveness, there may, on the whole, be derived more gratification to the rest. So in individuals; the cunning and calculating rogue may be as purely animal, as he who is so stupid, and at the same time depraved, as to make us call him a brute.

Lastly, and for the government and control of the whole, comes the moral and religious nature of man, with its organs, where the governing ones should naturally be, on the top of the head.

Now, it needs no argument to show that this is the wisest and best arrangement; for it is the only one, by which man, constituted as he now is, could possibly exist: reverse the order, subject the animal to the spiritual nature, and you exterminate the race; dissolve the connexion and the dependence of the spiritual nature upon animal and material organization, and man no longer exists: this connexion, however, must be dissolved -- this dependence must be broken -- the spiritual must have its ascendancy -- aye! but then, thank God! we shall be spirits, and not men.

Let me now consider the influence which social institutions and relations have upon the development of the three natures of man, in their just and due proportion; in keeping up, as it were, the proper balance between the whole. The subject is of vast extent and import; I can of course touch but lightly upon some parts of it; and as it will be more familiar to illustrate the general principle by reflections upon the social institutions of our own country; and; as it is much easier to criticize and find flaws, than to propose or amend, I shall do so.

When we compare our social institutions with those of less favored lands, we may justly feel proud of them; but before we assume to ourselves too much credit, let us compare notes a little with by-gone centuries, or with countries which we vainly suppose are centuries behind us in civilization; let us take, for instance, an example of the method of punishing crime. In the last century but one, over all Europe, and at this day in some parts of it, scenes like the following, were and are common: a conscience-stricken penitent approaches the confessional chair of a priest; he makes a long confession of many slight offences, for each of which the clerical judge fines him so many candles, or dooms him to say so many paternosters, and repeat his prayers so many times: he sees, however; in the hangdog look of his penitent, that there is something untold -- his confession is finished, but, like a lady's letter, the most important part may yet be in the postscript. He urges him to come out with the whole matter, and the fellow at last confesses, that he has been beating and abusing one of his fellow-workmen. Did you hurt him very much, by your beating? Why, not much by beating, but -- I just stuck the end of my knife into him. What! cries the priest, did you murder him? Oh, no! the Virgin be thanked! he did not die, though; I confess, I did stab him badly, several times.

Well, now for the punishment -- it is a heavy offence, it must be heavily mulcted; the priest cogitates, and proceeds; you have grievously offended -- the Virgin is much displeased -- you must pay fifty large candles, to be burnt at her altar, and, sotto voce, the ends will be my perquisites. But, if you cannot produce them in ten days, then in lieu thereof, six additional months shall you pass in purgatory!

Now, doubtless, you will say this is absurdity and imposition: fifty big wax candles, though they cost fifty dollars, cannot atone for having stabbed a man; and if the poor devil cannot raise the money to pay for them, the six months of purgatory cannot help the matter: such things never would be tolerated in our enlightened community.

But, stop a moment; let me read you, not a fancy sketch, but a sentence from the records of a civil court in the City of Boston, state of Massachusetts, April 13th, 1837. -- "Hugh Bailey, for assaulting and stabbing with a knife, was fined fifty dollars; if not paid within ten days -- then, in lieu thereof, six months hard labor in the house of correction."

Now, this sounds very well, because we are accustomed to it, but, substitute fifty candles, for fifty dollars, to be paid to the Virgin Mary, instead of the City Treasurer; the perquisites and parings to go to support priests, instead of paying court salaries; and Purgatory, instead of the House of Correction, and it becomes absurd. But, in the name of the organ of wonder! what had Hugh Bailey's inability to pay fifty dollars to do with his deserving, or not deserving, six months in the House of Correction? and why should his paying fifty dollars, save him from an earthly purgatory, any more than the fifty candles should save our sinner from an infernal one?

I need not, however, say much of the nature of our penal or legal code: these are rather sequences than causes in social arrangements; they should be considered in their adaptation or want of adaptation, to its moral and intellectual condition, and not among the causes of the variety of that condition. To return, therefore, from the digression.

I said, in my last lecture, that the organs of the three great cavities of the body, the cranium, the thorax, and the abdomen, should be in harmonious action and reaction, in order to give firm and continuous health, and great capacity for endurance of physical or intellectual labor. Now the tendency of most of our social institutions and regulations, is to destroy the equilibrium between these functions, and to excite the cerebral organs into undue and unhealthy action. There is no country on earth, whence the brain and nervous system of man is kept in such a state of turmoil and excitement, as in ours; no one has ever reaped such an early, abundant, and bitter harvest of pain and suffering as ours has: verily, we have sown the wind, and are already beginning to reap the whirlwind.

There is no country where the importance of the phrenological principle, of the necessity of harmonious action between the great functions, is more exemplified, than it is in ours, by the consequences of their violation or neglect.

The great errors seem to me to be, a neglect of the physical nature of man; the custom of treating boys too early as men, and sending them too early into the world to act for themselves, the existence of too much political excitement, and too extravagant, notions of personal and political liberty; the fact that we are too zealous, devout, and untiring worshippers of mammon; and, that we mingle passion under the name of zeal, with our religions feeling.

The physical nature of man, is sadly neglected and abused in this country, and many of our Institutions tend to increase that neglect and abuse. It is too much in the fashion to talk, and think contemptuously of matter, as though its nature and its laws were not fixed by the same God who created mind. And even when attention to physical health and strength is enjoined, its claims are urged by considerations so low; so purely selfish, that the aspiring contemn them.

I would not have gymnasia for muscular effort -- I would not have exercise for enjoyment, or appetite alone; but I would that the cultivation of physical health, and the rearing of strong and robust children should be favored by all our social institutions; I would that stern conscientiousness should be appealed to; that the abuse of God's gift should be forbidden; that the body should be considered as the instrument by which the soul is not only to influence others, but to operate upon itself, and prepare itself for its future and eternal condition.

People in this country, too often consider and treat their bodies as avaricious men treat their horses, they try to get the most possible work out of them, in the shortest possible time; and, like overworked horses, indeed, they do look.

We may first view the united effects of the causes I have mentioned, by contrasting a physical and moral picture of men in different generations; for, allow me to say that the physical appearance of a race of men is not an unimportant matter.

Picture to yourselves, therefore, the immediate descendants of the Pilgrim Fathers, as history tells us they were; and you see a band of erect, full-chested, robust, and ruddy youth; simple in garb, and modest in mien, but with the quiet dignity, and imposing air, which physical health and strength, backed by mental vigor always imparts; they were calm, but resolute; they were deliberate of decision, but inflexible when decided; their feelings, their efforts, their energies, were divided between their duties to their God, to their country, and their families; their physical, moral, and intellectual natures were all developed, and they stood, nature's true noblemen. And yet, to-day, if they should appear in our crowded marts of commerce, in our gay cities, or among the elite of fashion, they would be jeered at and quizzed! Aye! jeered at and quizzed by the pert merchant's clerk, by the sickly sophomore, by the puny man of fashion.

Or, should we select to place in contrast with them a band to represent the young men of our cities on the eastern coast, what would be their appearance? They would be smooth-faced, flat-chested, slightly made youth; forward, and self-sufficient in air, precocious in intellect, impetuous to act without thinking, impatient of control, and incapable of self-government. Their whole energies are devoted to one darling object, personal aggrandizement and wealth: they think of their country as a glorious one for business; her institutions, as presenting a fine field for personal advancement; and even in love, the unhallowed thought of gain will obtrude; for, in spite of himself, the youth whose morning orisons and whose evening vespers are for wealth, and more wealth, will be swayed by it in the domestic relations which he assumes.

Do not think I am severe; I grant there are many, and noble exceptions, particularly in our favored section; but, as a whole, the class to whom I refer, would not be wronged by the picture I have drawn. Nay! I will venture to say there are thousands of youth in our Atlantic cities, who would be flattered by it; for, how often do you meet with round-shouldered, lank-sided, weak, pale, and puny abortions, who know nothing, and think nothing of the earth, but that it has mines of gold; nothing of the seas, but that they float ships; nothing of the skies, but that they send fair winds; nothing of their fellow-men, but that they are worth so much money: their thoughts, their hopes, their prayers, are centred all in self; "their God is gold, and their religion, pelf."

When I think of them, I cannot repress my indignation at the social or anti-social institutions and regulations, which have converted the sons of the pilgrims into such specimens of human nature, or help contrasting them with some of the first settlers of our forests, as they are described in the glowing lines of a noble bard, who says,

* * * * * * * and there they grew,
A sylvan tribe of children of the chase,
Whose young unwakened world was ever new;
Nor sword, nor sorrow, yet had left a trace
On her unwrinkled brow; nor could you view
A frown on nature's or on human face:
The free-born forest found and kept them free,
And fresh as is a TORRENT or a TREE.

And tall, and strong, and swift of foot were they,
Beyond the dwarfing city's pale abortions;
Because their thoughts had never been the prey
Of care or gain; the green woods were their portions;
No sinking spirits told them they grew grey;
No fashion made them apes of her distortions:
Simple they were, not savage; and their rifles,
Though very true, were never used for trifles.

Motion was in their days, rest in their slumbers,
And cheerfulness, the handmaid of their toil;
Nor yet too many nor too few their numbers:
Corruption could not make their hearts her soil:
The lust which stings, the splendor which encumbers
With the free foresters divide no spoil:
Serene, not sullen, were the solitudes
Of this unsighing people of the woods.

And woman, too, delicate and lovely woman, how has she changed; and how little is left of that erect and noble carriage, that full rounded figure, that dignity and beauty which characterized those of the by-gone century, and does still characterize the daughters of fair Albion; a beauty which arose from a full and perfect development, and healthy action of every organ of the body. Some may say that beauty is of small moment, that it is of little consequence in an individual, and much less in a national point of view is it to be regarded; but I maintain, and will maintain the contrary; and though I cannot, like the chevalier of old, uphold the claims of beauty by the point of a lance, I will use, wield at least, a pen in its defence, and maintain its cause with all the chivalry and zeal which the degeneracy of the age, and of our unchivalric day and country will allow.

Most heartily do I agree with the sage, who said, with a sigh, "well philosophers may argue, and plain men may fret; but beauty will find its way to the human heart." And it should be so, for so hath the Creator kindly and wisely ordained it; he hath vouchsafed to man the faculty of perceiving beauty; he hath made the perception a source of delight to him, and he hath filled the earth, the sea, and the skies, with bright and beautiful objects which he may contemplate and admire. Else, why is the earth, and every thing upon it, so varied in form, so full of beauty of outline? why are not the hills, -- the rocks, -- the trees, all square? why runneth not the river canal like to the ocean? why is not the grass black? why cometh the green bud, -- the white blossom, -- the golden fruit, -- and the yellow leaf? why is not the firmament of a leaden changeless hue? why hang not the clouds like sponges in the sky? why the bright tints of morning, the splendor of noon, the gorgeous hues of sunset? why, in a word, does the great firmament, like an ever-turning kaleidoscope, at every revolving hour present to man a new and beautiful picture in the skies? I care not that I shall be answered that these, and all other beauties, whether of sight and sound, are the results of arrangements for other ends: I care not, for it is enough for me, that a benevolent God hath so constituted us as to enable us to derive pleasure and benefit from them, and by so doing, he hath made it incumbent upon us to draw from so abundant a source.

It will be said I am losing sight of my subject -- the physical beauty of my countrywomen; I am not wont to do so long -- , and hasten back to it.

It is a very general opinion with us, that the standard of female beauty is quite as high here as in most countries; but this is by no means the case; our women fall far, very far below the standard which is attainable by them; for I hold, that with greater advantage of descent, with more of physical comfort and luxuries, with greater intellectual cultivation, than any women on earth, in beauty and grace of person they fall far below those of every civilized nation whom I have ever seen. Exceptions there are, and bright exceptions -- I need not leave this desk to point out some of them; but, alas! in how sad contrast do they stand with thousands whose narrow chests, projecting collarbones, pallid faces, and decaying teeth, show the defective physical organization. This is an interesting and a very important subject; for, as I shall show, the perfection of womanly beauty is dependent upon her original constitution, and her physical health, and I beg you to allow me to enlarge upon it.

I said that it was generally supposed here, that our women are not deficient in beauty, while in reality they are so, and this I explain from the fact, that in the spring of life, and for a number of years, there is a brilliancy of complexion which makes our maidens seem beautiful, and, as it were, dazzles the spectator into blindness to other faults. I confess, I know nothing like it; and, as the gorgeous pomp of our summer sunsets are unmatched by richest skies of Italy or Greece -- as the bright hues of our autumnal foliage are unrivalled by the forest scenery of any country, and inimitable by the boldest pencil so is the clear, glowing complexion of our maidens -- the blended lily and rose of their faces, unequalled by the brightest and most beautiful of earth's daughters. This it is, that renders them so pretty without being beautiful, and for this it is, that when the bloom of cheek is gone, you have but a very plain woman left. As at sunset, you gaze with rapture upon a golden-hued cloud, but while you gaze, the sun ceases to shine upon it, and you have only a leaden colored sombre mass before you -- so, oftentimes, does the lovely American girl of sixteen sink into the plain American woman of twenty.

Now, there is no reason in nature why this should be so; there is nothing in the constitution of woman, that prevents her being at thirty, still fresh, healthy, and beautiful; with well-developed and erect figure, with clear and unwrinkled brow, with a luxuriant profusion of hair, and with every tooth in her head, and clear and sound as the pearl; but there are many and very sufficient reasons in the present constitution, and habits of society, and in our social and domestic arrangements. Depend upon it, the milliner, the hairdresser, and the dentist, are but funguses growing out of a rotten state of society, and that if women were what they should be, one half the doctors would emigrate, in despair; to a less enlightened and favored land.

But the point in which American women fall most below the standard of beauty, is in the figure; and this is attributed, in a great measure, to the very absurd and unnatural attempt to set up a standard of beauty, in the outline of form, exactly the reverse of nature. To man; has nature given the deep chest, the broad shoulders, the form tapering from above downwards: to woman, exactly the reverse; but fashion, tyrant fashion, condemns all this; the waist must be drawn in at all hazards, the internal organs may take care of themselves, and grow if they can; if they cannot -- no matter -- the cord must be drawn; and when the balloon sleeves filled our streets, and monopolized our side-walks, the figure of a lady in outline, looked as unnatural as would a churn set up on its small end.

Should a lady appear in the streets, with her dress arranged so as to show her figure to be in outline like that of Eve, she would be pointed at as a fright; and the Venus de Medicis would be called a dowdy, by our fashionables.

Such is not the case with the famed beauties of the East -- the women of Georgia and Circassia; with them the growth of the figure is never constrained; the dress is never drawn tight the foot is never cramped up in a shoe; the locks are never imprisoned in papers; the dentist -- the coiffeur -- the mantua-maker, are never known there, and yet they grow up erect as the pine, graceful as the gazelle, beautiful as a flower. But that which most distinguishes them, is the graceful and swan-like carriage of the neck -- the erect and easy posture of the body, which is unstayed and unsupported by art -- the perfect roundness of the tapering limbs, and the general fulness and swell of the flesh which hides every projection of bone; there is no elbow -- no collar-bone; they seem as if made of elastic ivory -- as if they had no skeleton, of the existence of which you are so frequently and disagreeably reminded here, by the angular arms, the sharp elbows, and the projecting collar-bones of our ladies.

There is, however, a more important and lamentable effect of the want of attention to the organic laws, a careless defiance of the natural tendency to hereditary transmission of infirmities. Very few consider, that they owe more to society than to their individual selves; that if we are to love our neighbor as ourself, we must of course love all our neighbors collectively, more than the single unit, which each calls, I.

As I said before, there is one great and crying evil, in our system of education, and it is that but part of man's nature is educated; that our colleges and schools doom young men, for years, to an uninterrupted and severe exercise of the intellectual faculties, to the comparative neglect of their moral, and still more of their physical nature. Nay! many students not only neglect their physical nature, but they abuse it; they sin against themselves, and against God; and though they sin in ignorance, they do not escape the penalties of his violated laws. Hence you see them, pale, and wan, and feeble; hence, you often find one acknowledging, when too late, the effects of severe application. But does he acknowledge it humbly and repentingly, as with a consciousness of sin? No; it is often with a secret exultation, with a lurking feeling, that you will say or think, "poor fellow, his mind is too much for his body!" But, in truth; his mind is too weak, his knowledge too limited, he is an imperfect man, for he knows not his own nature.

But, if there is no conscientiousness, no scruple about impairing one's own health, and sowing the seeds of disease, there is less about entailing them upon others; and consumptive men or women, the sons or daughters of consumptive parents, hesitate not to spread the evil in society, to entail a puny frame, weakness, pain, and early death upon several individuals, and punish their children for their own sins. Is this picture too high colored? Alas! no. And if, as I shall show you satisfactorily, sin against the organic laws, causes among us so large a proportion of insanity, how much more readily will you grant, that the same sin gives to many of our population the narrow chest, the hectic flush, the hollow cough, which marks the victim doomed by his parent to consumption and early death.

Do you not see, every Sabbath, at church, the young man, or woman, upon whose fair and delicate countenance the peculiar impress of the early doomed is stamped; and, as a slight but hollow cough comes upon your ear, does it not recall the death knell, which rang in the same sad note before, to the father or the mother? Who of you has not followed some young friend to his long resting-place, and found that the grass had not yet grown over the grave of his brother -- that the row of white marbles, beneath which slept his parents and sisters, were still glistering in freshness; and that the letters which told their names, and their early death, seemed clear, as if cut but yesterday?

They tell us, that physical education is attended to in this country; but where is the teacher, where is the clergyman even, who dares step forth in these cases, and say to those who are thus doomed, the laws of God, and of humanity, forbid your marriage? and where are the young men and women, who would listen to him if he should thus forbid the bann? It is not that they are wanting in conscientiousness; they may be conscientious and disinterested; it may be that they do not know they are doing wrong, because they are not acquainted with all the organic laws of their nature; for all that is done in schools or colleges, towards physical education, is the mere strengthening of the muscular system by muscular exercise, which is not half enough.

But to proceed to considerations less closely connected with the physical condition of our countrymen and women; for unfortunately, the nature of our social Institutions is not only to injure the physical nature of man, and to lower the standard of manly beauty, strength, and health, but to encourage and excite the organ of acquisitiveness into such morbid activity, as to cause us to neglect all the others, and to make us both the most money-loving, and money-getting people on earth.

I do not mean indeed by a social institution, any special edict, any established law, or even tangible regulation -- but the spirit of our social relations. The man who rises early, and sits up late, who devotes his whole energies for years to the accumulation of money, who fixes his eye steadily on the distant pole-star of fortune; and follows on untiringly, and unhesitatingly; stumbling over all considerations of health, intellectual improvement, domestic and social enjoyments; such a man is considered as a model, and pointed out for imitation; and when he arrives at the golden goal, when he becomes a millionaire, he is admired, courted, and imitated; but, is he a happy man? far from it. Is he indeed a man, in a moral and intellectual point of view? alas! but a very poor specimen of one.

I would not lessen industry -- I would not damp ardor or enterprise; no! let the spirit of man be strained and spurred to its utmost efforts; but do not let it be distorted by being strained in one direction only; do not let it be broken by weakness, and neglect of any part; do not let the immortal spirit be spurred only by acquisitiveness, and hurried on by self-esteem alone. Phrenology admits the disposition to accumulate property us innate in human nature; it recognises the value and the necessity of this disposition; but it shows that it must be kept subordinate to the higher and human parts of man's nature, or that it will become his tyrant and his curse. Acquisitiveness has been the ruling passion here for many years -- it has become the tyrant -- it is becoming the curse. Its nature is to cry forever, "more and more, give me more:" at first it demanded and received untiring industry, frugality, and the regular offerings of daily and yearly gain; but these were not enough; for the spirit of speculation was abroad; there went a voice through the land, that enterprise and daring should be used; the ploughman left his plough -- the artist his bench -- the merchant his desk -- all disregarded and despised the certain but small returns of regular business, and all followed the ignis fatuus of fortune, which was flitting over the land. They could not, however, follow fast enough, and they borrowed the means; but when all borrow, there must soon be none to lend; property could not be increased in a moment, but its representative; money, could be, and it was: every man obtained what he could; he counted upon that as certain gain, which might or not become so, and strained his credit to the utmost.

The facilities for rapid and profitable conversion of natural productions into real property; the opportunities for increase of the real and tangible capital of society, which this country has presented, have been unprecedented and unparalled in the history of the world. Each generation was doubling and quadrupling its property, but, people could not be content with this; they saw a golden vision ahead, they clutched at the shadow, and fancied they caught the substance: each one calculated upon what he might be worth in ten years; he lived up to this standard; he contracted obligations upon a corresponding scale; he planted, but watered not with the sweat of his brow; for he expected that his seedling would spring up gourd-like to greatness in a day.

But, funguses, not oaks, grow up in a day: the laws of nature cannot be evaded; and a low propensity, once made the master passion, will prove a viper to the bosom that nourishes it. We have thus nourished acquisitiveness, and now, is it not making us feel its sting? How many an aching head lay last night upon a sleepless pillow; how many a man hath this day gazed sadly upon house and furniture, which; e'en his children call theirs, but which he knows may tomorrow be another's, how many a heart is at this moment, agonised with doubts and apprehension, which it dares not whisper to its fellow heart of the wife's bosom? These are the legitimate and inevitable results of allowing one passion, and that a low one, to have full sway over the mind; it destroys the moral equilibrium; it is incompatible with true dignity: for he is not a man -- a man, as nature would have made him, who can be harassed and overwhelmed by the disappointment of so low a propensity as that of gain, or be driven to intemperance, despair, or suicide, because he seems to his neighbors not to have more than enough of the world's dross.

But, should the evil be greater than it is; should the present commercial embarrassment do what it cannot do, materially lessen the intrinsic value of real property; should the pain and distress now felt through the community, be but a tithe of that which succeeding weeks and months must witness; it will be a great blessing to the country, if it sears like a hot iron the foul ulcer which caused it, to the very bottom; if it cures the moral disease which has spread over the whole land.

It may be safely said, that nineteen twentieths of those who are to be prostrated by the coming storm, whose airy castles are to be demolished, and whose extravagant expectations blasted, will be better and happier men ten years hence, than they would have been, had all their dreams been realised, and they put in possession of immense fortunes.

A successful speculation is oftener an evil than a blessing; it upsets all one's notions of the value of time, of industry, and of money; it is a moral evil, because it violates the law of nature, which requires, that a part of every day, and every year of one's life, should be devoted to procuring the means of subsistence for the day and year; and he who, by what he calls a lucky hit, secures to himself what he calls a fortune, sometimes cuts off from the remainder of his days a wholesome and natural source of pleasure. If he have devoted all his powers and energies to Mammon for the best part of his life, he is sold to him, and can no more live tranquilly without his stimuli, than can he who has been excited for years by alcohol, give up the stimulus of drink. Hence you find such men uneasy and fretful in old age; hence often it is, that they are envious and vexed at the sight of happiness in others; and that they seem to think a poor man has no right to enjoy himself more than they can, who have earned a hundred thousand dollars.

But, a word more for the actual state of things: we find that it is not our country alone which is affected; and it is in vain to seek for the origin of the present distress in any partial and particular measures of any government or any institution; the causes lie deeper, they are in the very nature and spirit of the modern method of business. Governments, and Institutions, and particular edicts, may, and doubtless have done much to hasten the crisis: certainly some of them are very like an order that all waters shall run up hill; but though they had been ever so preposterous and absurd, not to say wilful and wicked, they could not have produced the convulsion that is now rocking our firmest houses like an earthquake, if men had conducted business in that spirit which looks only to the natural and certain reward of prudent industry.

It will be answered, that men must act according to the spirit of the time and place; and that they have a right to count upon the permanence of any national law or commercial regulation. Aye! but when such laws and regulations run counter to the course of nature, they must, and will be frustrated; and he who puts more faith in the laws and regulations of man than in those of nature, must take the consequences of his choice.

The fact is, the present generation has been agitated and swayed by passion as much the most remarkable ones in history: veneration and combativeness once stirred up Europe to madness, and sent her raving with the cross in one hand, and the sword in the other, upon benighted Asia: love of approbation, and combativeness caused France to raise the storm of war which shook the world, -- which made the rivers of the south run red with blood, and stained the snows of the north with gore: and now, love of approbation, riding on acquisitiveness is making the world equally mad in the chase for money. America leads in the van -- she mortgages her unexplored lands, and her unborn generations, to raise funds for the present: Europe follows hard after -- she pawns her regalia, she sells her titles, she grubs in the battle-fields, and converts the bones of her heroes into money: Asia starts up to join the chase, and casts away her turban and her robes, that she may follow the faster; even dead Africa is roused to life, and begins to pull down her pyramids to build up factories. (1)

I have said that combined love of approbation and acquisitiveness is the leading characteristic of the age; it is certainly and especially so of our own country. Many a man devotes his hours, his days, and his years, to the accumulation of dross, which he would despise if he did not consider it a mean to an end, a stepping-stone to honor and distinction. We may deny it, we may hide it from ourselves, but we do bow down to and honor wealth; we do give it the precedence of talent. I speak not of this city, nor of a particular class, but of the country generally; and I say, that except where genius blazes like a comet, dazzling the people and forcing admiration, wealth commands more personal regard than intellectual and moral superiority: the wise man, or the good man, is stared at; the rich one is bowed down to: the one excites wonder, the other envy.

But I leave this theme most willingly, and proceed to point out other violations of the phrenological principles, that the brain and all other organs should be developed and stimulated to action at the proper age, and only then.

The precocity of our youth has been remarked by all intelligent foreigners who have ever visited the country, and it is not uncommon for Americans to boast of it. Our fathers thought, and wisely thought, that twenty-one years passed in training the body and mind, under the eye and control of affectionate authority, were not too much; but the present generation has no idea of this; the young Phaeton has leaped into the chariot of the sun -- he is driving furiously on, and risks not only breaking his own neck, but setting the world on fire, as he sinks in the west.

It seems to me that this error is too common in most of the pursuits of life, and that it is becoming still more so with us. Our boys at school must be treated like young gentlemen; their self-esteem must be continually appealed to; and at fourteen or fifteen, they will stand upon their reserved rights, and resolutely rebel, rather than submit to a discipline or a punishment, which the son of an English nobleman would not consider as disgraceful. These unbearded Solomons, these cocksparrow Hotspurs, will tell you they understand the rights of man as well as their masters, and they will rather die in the breech, than yield it up.

I am not disposed to point out or reason from extreme cases; if I were, I need not go out of this city; nay; in this very building you may find, at ten o'clock to-morrow, a grave and solemn assembly of philosophers, whose first suit of jacket and trowsers is not yet worn out -- of four year old matrons, who are brought in four-wheeled baskets; you will hear them addressed as men and women whose reasons are perfected, and questions put to them which would severely tax the causality, comparison, and ideality, of mature minds. Nay! you will hear these mewling-pewling philosophers questioned upon the most abtruse and mystical points of religious belief, and their answers carefully recorded, to be published for the benefit of our stupid old generation which is called on to receive instruction from these babes and sucklings! You will pardon my allusion to this subject, it is too absurd for serious notice; but I could hardly avoid it, for, as the old philosophers have it, the propinquity of time and place forced it upon me.

To return to common education. It is seldom thorough in this generation of ours, either in the mechanical arts, or in the learned professions. The boys of the English, Scotch, and German high schools, are better scholars than the titled graduates of our colleges; the members of all the learned professions in Europe, though they have less of the savoir faire than ours, are better scholars, and more learned men. Our youth, while yet in all their greenness, are dubbed doctors, lawyers, and divines; and they begin to get knowledge by practising upon the people; for, like the barber's apprentice, they must perforce learn to shave on the public chin, having no beards on their own.

The same impatient spirit brings the whole rising generation into action too early; the boys, who should be developing and strengthening their physical system, and storing their minds with useful knowledge, but without anxiety and without excitement, now rush into action, and, under the name of young men, essay to govern society, which they only keep in a turmoil.

I am well aware of what youth is capable; I know well that its impetiosity will carry it fearlessly over obstacles, and through dangers, at which maturity pauses and shudders; but I know, too, that precocious cerebral excitement must be followed by reaction, and that no system is so wise as that of nature.

The stripling conscripts of Napoleon carried his eagles forward to victory, but when the reverse came, they of the vieille moustache alone stood firm: our conscripts, however, would fain always be in the van, and when political dangers threaten, we are told to becalm, and stand aside, for the "Young Men's Committee of Safety" will see that no harm shall come to the common weal.

But, besides that our system of education is calculated to bring boys and girls too rapidly forward, to educate them superficially, and to develop too strongly their self-esteem, it is deficient because their intellectual nature is alone cultivated; knowledge, practical and useful, is imparted, but the moral nature is neglected. Understand me; I do not mean that the teachers are wanting in morality, as it is generally defined, but they do not call into operation the moral organs. Precepts and rules are given, but nothing more: suppose, however, that a master who wished to strengthen the calculating powers of his pupils, should content himself with reading the rules of arithmetic, without requiring them to do the sums or to practise upon those rules, would he not be called an ignoramus? and if he punished a boy for making an error the first time he attempted a practical application of the rule, would he not be called cruel? But he is more of an ignoramus, if he supposes that a boy in whom the feeling of benevolence is not naturally strong, will be kind to his fellow-pupils because he has heard the precept to be so, often repeated; and because it has been read to him, night and morning, from the bible, "thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself."

You will all allow that the moral and religious natures of man are of at least as much importance as the intellectual; but if you take a general view of the School System of the United States, you must grant that they are almost entirely neglected: the perceptive and intellectual faculties are exercised six mortal hours in children who had better be frisking about in the green fields; but the organs of benevolence, conscientiousness, and veneration, are hardly called into action at all.

However, I need not enlarge upon the subject of school education, for it has been treated in a most satisfactory manner by a preceding lecturer.

Another effect of our social relations which violates the phrenological axiom, that too great cerebral excitement is injurious, is the continual and fearful agitation which is kept up about political matters. There is a large part of our community, whose interest and whose daily bread is dependent upon the success of party, and who are obliged to watch with intense anxiety every cloud, every portent, and to make any and every sacrifice, even of country's good, for party ascendancy. Our social political institutions engender an inordinate self-esteem; they tend to create an impatient and restless spirit, that incapacitates the people for self-restraint; they appeal so frequently to the sovereignty of the multitude, that the multitude thinks it may exercise its sovereignty immediately, and without being tramelled by legal forms, and tedious legislative delays.

This spirit, farther excited by the cause I have already mentioned, the undue and early development of self-esteem in our boys, and the thrusting them yet unbearded into the political arena, keeps that arena a scene of excitement, of violence, of tumult and blood: aye! blood; for it is a sad reflection, that the unhallowed and disgraceful scenes of riot, burning, and bloodshed, which have disgraced our land within the last five years, and which portend greater horrors to come, are more numerous and atrocious, than those of any civilised people on earth.

But, I am on a dangerous subject; it may be, that these are necessary evils; it may be that these are the paltry sums of suffering we are paying for the boon of liberty to thirteen millions of people; if so, then welcome! thrice welcome such, and worse! for most feelingly can I say, in view of the situation of less favored lands, in the words of one of their greatest poets, --

Still, still forever
Better, though each man's life-blood were a river,
That it should flow and overflow, than creep
In thousand lazy channels through our veins,
Damm'd like the dull canal with locks and chains,
And moving, as a sick man in his sleep
Three paces, and then faltering: -- better be
Where the extinguished Spartans still are free
In their proud charnel of Thermopylae,
Than stagnate in our marsh; -- or o'er the deep
Fly, and one current to the ocean add,
One spirit to the souls our fathers had,
One freeman more, America, to thee!

Let me turn to another theme, and point out some of our social religious institutions, which, it appears to me, engender and keep up too great cerebral excitement, and violate the great phrenological principle, which cannot be too often repeated, that the functions of all the great organs should be performed in their season and degree, and only so. And, if I would most cautiously and respectfully approach the palladium of our civil liberty, and hesitate to pronounce an opinion respecting any change in its institutions, how much more reverentially and solemnly should I approach the ark of our religion, our sheet anchor in the storms of this world, our pole-star and only guide to the world to come. Nor, indeed, need I go farther than to point out some of the abuses, which a diffused knowledge of the general principles of phrenology would speedily and effectually remedy.

It would be useless here to allude, to the oft-refuted and stale charge of materialism which is brought against phrenology; or to dwell upon the support which the science really brings to revelation: suffice it, that Phrenology is a system of moral philosophy which distinctly recognises the innate religions sentiments of man; that it shows satisfactorily how he is by nature prepared to receive a revelation, and that without such preparation, -- such natural adaptation and fitness, a revelation might as well be made to horses and cows, as to him.

But, while the true phrenologist is, and must be religious, he perceives that many of the religious institutions of the day are of such a nature as obviously to induce men to run counter to the principles of his science, and he would fain see Christianity purified from fanaticism, and all forms of its observance which are injurious to the physical health, or which tend to undue excitement of the cerebral functions, speedily abolished. Nor should he hesitate, through excessive veneration, to touch what seems aged and venerable, but which is really rotten; for, had the reformers of past days hesitated, where should we now be?

Every one allows that Christianity was corrupted, and that its original simplicity and purity were lost sight of in the dark ages; nor must we suppose that we have arrived at the height of perfection, and that the forms of our day are free from all fault. We are too apt to consider our own period, not exactly as the end of time, but as its culminating point, and that to which we refer every thing else; we should, however, view the scroll of history as it were from a distance, and, glancing our eye along it, see the year 1837, midway between anno domini 1, and anno domini 3674; we should then, perhaps, fear that while rejecting some of the superstitions and follies of our fathers, we may hold fast to so many of them that our children will smile in pity as they throw aside part of our follies, but still themselves cling to enough to afford mirth to our grandchildren at their expense.

It is still common, in our generation, for men and women to cling to principles, or notions which they dignify with the name of principles, in an inverse ratio to the degree of reason and judgment exercised in forming them. The man who has arrived at the conclusion from philosophical and mathematical reasons, that the earth is spherical, will listen patiently to any one who shall broach the theory that it varies much from a sphere; but those people who have always known from their very infancy, that the world is flat as a plate, will stop their ears to all reason on the subject; or, if he who dares try to convince them, brings some puzzling questions, they will rise up in a rage and stone him, or burn him for a heretic.

So in morals, those two magic lines of the primer, --

"In Adam's fall.
We sinned all,"

will weigh more with many people, than most logical and philosophical arguments that can be brought forth, for, not all the shrewdness of Locke -- not all the force of Bacon, can equal the sway exercised over their minds, by that self-sufficient sage, the nursery maid. If you ask what man could have fallen from, since he never yet reached his high estate; or how that fall could impose any moral responsibility upon us, who are brought into being four thousand years after; or how another person, suffering for us by proxy, could make us merit more than we otherwise should, -- people stop their ears, and though they dare not throw stones at you, they throw at you the hard words of unredeemed sinner, stiff-necked unbeliever! and though they cannot burn you in this world, they most heartily and unhesitatingly condemn you to be burned in the next.

It does appear to me, that if Phrenology were generally understood, it would do much to soften religious acerbity; to make us more truly Christian and charitable; to make us less exclusive and sectarian. It shows us the accordance between natural and revealed religion; it explains enough of the scheme of Divine Benevolence to make us adore and love its Author. Phrenology teaches us that religion is a sentiment, and not a dogma or a creed; that he who religiously feels and acts, and not he who religiously thinks and believes, is a true Christian.

To speak unphrenologically, religion is of the heart, and not of the head; it is of the feelings, and not of the reason; it teaches us that the Samoide, who anoints and worships a stone, or the poor African who bows to and adores a tree, can each of them offer to God that homage of the heart, which may find more favor, than the most eloquent prayer of the most learned divine.

But would Phrenology discourage the application of the intellect to religion? Oh no! it inculcates it -- it calls for it -- it is fearless of the result, -- it lays the foundation of religion so deep in the human heart that they cannot be overthrown; for, as reasoning and argument cannot create religious feeling, neither can they destroy it -- naturam frustra expelles, tamen usque recurret.

Phrenology, however, shows the necessity of making the rites and observances of religion conform to the condition of the intellect; it shows how absurd are all the arguments brought against Christianity from the contents of the Old Testament, since it was good for the purposes it had to effect; it shows too, that as the Jewish rites and ceremonies were unfit for the early Christians, so are many of the rites and observances of the early Christians unfit for us, and so may ours be for our children.

The sentiment of religion remains eternal and immutable in the human heart; but its outward observances should advance toward simplicity, or rise in grandeur, as the intellect is adapted to one or the other. If it is not so, men will sink into superstition, and can be roused only by strong excitement; or, if their reasons are enlightened, and the forms and ceremonies of religion are considered inseparable from the spirit, they will reject the whole, and be considered as infidels, though they will retain their religious impulses. (2)

I have not time, however, to discuss the phrenological views of religious rites; I shall merely show how some of those rites in this country, by causing an undue excitement to the cerebral organs, violate the natural laws, and are contrary to the first principles of the science; but first, as I have cited one case of modern legislation to contrast with the method of procedure by priestly trial in past ages, let me notice an instance of theological absurdity in ancient days, and seek for a counterpart to it in our own. During the dark ages, there arose a thousand ardent and bitter disputes about absurd and trifling things; among others, whether the Saviour ascended from earth to heaven with his clothes on, or not; and many and learned were the arguments for and against. But I have lately read of a dispute among churches in the neighboring state of Connecticut, quite as absurd: you are aware that many of them have, after much discussion, decided that wine should not be used at the sacrament; well, the question arose what should be substituted? and the dispute to which I allude, is between some who warmly advocate cold water, and others who strenuously stick for buttermilk!

Bye the bye, this question of the propriety of the use of wine at the sacrament, which some suppose to be mooted for the first time, is but a renewal of that raised by Tatian and his followers, one hundred and fifty years after Christ; and they decided that wine should not be used. So much for antiquity of temperance societies: old Tatian was probably the first president.

But I proceed to notice some of the social religious ceremonies of this country, which are positively injurious to physical health, which are contrary to the true spirit of Christianity, and which would soon be abandoned if the principles of phrenology were generally admitted. And, first, religious revivals, with their attendant machinery of protracted meetings, prayer meetings, &c. which, though not frequent in our city, are very much so through our country. You know that the common idea of revivals, is, that they are special and local outpourings of the Holy Spirit; that this outpouring is sometimes copious, and over much space, sometimes scanty, sometimes entirely withheld; but, that unless each one receives a part of it, and is thereby regenerated, he is surely damned to all eternity: in this view of the subject, a late writer says, --

"When we consider the immense number of mankind on the globe, and the myriads of human beings who have lived, to whom this spirit has not been imparted, and notice to how few it is now given, even in countries where we hear most of it, we are lost in a maze of sorrow, wonder, and doubt. A feeling of sorrow naturally arises at the thought of the unutterable misery of innumerable beings, created in the image of God himself; of wonder, how it can be reconciled with the plan of infinite benevolence, with the plans of that omnipotent Being, who created for his good pleasure these suffering mortals; and a feeling of doubt, if not of hope will arise, whether the statements of these men may not be erroneous."

You are aware, that there are millions of our fellow-citizens who believe in the efficacy of these revivals, who pray for these outpourings, and who long to see the whole land drunk with excitement; under this point of view, it becomes important. Those of you who have attended revivals, where there has been much excitement, will recollect the intense and agonizing feeling, which spreads like contagion in a crowd; and those who have not, may form some idea of it, from the following description, which I extract from the writings of a celebrated divine, and which my own recollections of Camp Meeting scenes, tells me is a faithful picture of what is often passing in this country.

"Sunday, May 20, being with Mr. B--ll, at Everton, I was much fatigued, and did not preach; but Mr. B. did, and I observed several fainting and crying out, while he was speaking; afterwards at church, I heard many cry out, especially children, whose agonies were amazing; one of the eldest, a girl of ten or twelve years old, was full in my view, in violent contortions of body, and weeping aloud, I think incessantly, during the whole service; and several much younger children were in Mr. B--ll's view, agonizing as they did. The church was equally crowded in the afternoon, the windows being filled within and without, and even the outside of the pulpit to the very top , so that Mr. B. seemed almost stifled with their breath; yet feeble and sickly as he is, he was continually strengthened, and his voice for the most part, distinguishable, in the midst of all the outcries. When the power of religion began to be spoken of, the presence of God really filled the place; and while poor sinners felt the sentence of death in their souls, what sounds of distress did I hear? The greatest number of them who cried or fell, were men; but some women, and several children, felt the power of the same Almighty Spirit, and seemed just sinking into hell.

"This occasioned a mixture of various sounds; some shrieking, some roaring aloud. The most general, was a loud breathing, like that of a people half strangled, and gasping for life, and indeed almost all the cries were like those of human creatures, dying in bitter anguish. Great numbers wept without any noise, others fell down as dead; some sinking in silence, some with extreme noise and violent agitation.

"I stood on the pew-seat, as did a young man in the opposite pew, an able-bodied, fresh, healthy countryman; but in a moment, while he seemed to think of nothing less, down he dropped with a violence inconceivable. The adjoining pews seemed to shake with his fall; I heard afterwards, the stamping of his feet, ready to break the boards, as he lay in strong convulsions, at the bottom of the pew. Among several that were struck down in the next pew, was a girl, who was as violently seized as he. When he fell, Mr. B--ll and I felt our souls thrilled with a momentary dread; as when one man is killed with a cannon-ball, another after feels the wind of it. Among the children who felt the arrows of the Almighty, I saw a sturdy boy, about eight years old, who roared above his fellows, and seemed in his agony to struggle with the strength of a grown man. His face was red as scarlet, and almost all on whom God laid his hand, turned either very red, or almost black. When I returned, after a little walk, to Mr. Berridge's house, I found it full of people. He was fatigued, but said he would, nevertheless, give them a word of exhortation.

"I staid in the next room, and saw the girl whom I had observed peculiarly distressed in the church, lying on the floor as one dead, but without any ghastliness in her face. In a few minutes, we were informed of a woman filled with peace and joy, who was crying out just before. Immediately after, a stranger, well dressed, who stood facing me, fell backward to the wall, then forward on his knees, wringing his hands, and raving like a bull. His face at first turned quite red, then almost black. He rose, and ran against the wall, till Mr. Keeling and another held him. He screamed out, 'O what shall I do, what shall I do? O for one drop of the blood of Christ!' As he spoke, God set his soul at liberty, he knew his sins were blotted out; and the rapture he was in, seemed too great for human nature to bear.

"On another occasion he writes thus: While he was preaching, fifteen or sixteen persons felt the arrows of the Lord, and dropped down. A few of these cried out with the utmost violence, and little intercession, for some hours; while the rest made no great noise, but continued struggling, as in the pangs of death. I observed, besides these, one little girl deeply convulsed, and a boy, nine or ten years old; both of these, and several others, when carried into the parsonage-house, either lay as dead, or struggling with all their might; but in a short time, their cries increased beyond measure, so that the loudest singing could scarcely be heard. Some at last called on me to pray, which I did; and, for a time, all were calm; but the storm soon began again. Mr. Hicks then prayed, and afterwards Mr. B--ll; but, still though some received consolation, others remained in deep sorrow of heart."

But lest you should suppose such scenes are confined to the ignorant and uncultivated among us, I will trouble you with a few words extracted from a letter of the President of Amherst College, of a recent date.

"God has poured out his Spirit a second time on Amherst College; for several weeks there was a manifest increase of concern for those who were ready to perish, till there came to be mighty wrestlings with the angel of the covenant, such as I believe always prevail. The noise and shaking among the dry bones, was sudden, and the work rapid in its progress. The word of God was quick and powerful! In many cases, conviction of sins were extremely pungent. In some they may be said to have been overwhelming; but in most instances they were short. When the student became convinced that the wrath of God was abiding on him, he shut himself up with his bible, and his stricken heart, under the full persuasion, that the crisis of his eternal destiny had come."

Now, this jargon, this false application of scriptural expressions, is from a reverend Divine, -- a D. D. -- a President of an American College; and the fanatical excitement, the terror, the agony, the intense cerebral action which he was exciting in youths committed to his care, is a fair specimen of what is going on, probably at this moment, in several parts of our country, under the name of religious revivals. You are probably aware that a regularly organised system of measures is often put in action to get up a revival; that almost any one may, if he has the recipe, and a knowledge of human nature, succeed in doing so. One of these measures is the protracted meetings; which are continued for days and weeks together; which call women from their domestic duties, children from their schools, and men from their workshops, to play a part in an assembly, little if any more reasonable, than a set of dancing dervishes. A late writer says on this subject, --

"It appears to me, there is not a candid and intelligent person in the community, but will acknowledge, that thus assembling men, women, and children, and talking to them, exciting them, and making them anxious and disturbed for days and weeks, on any other subject than religion would prove injurious to their health. How then can any one doubt, that continued mental agony on the subject of religion, is not as dangerous as similar excitements upon any other subject; or suppose that people are more likely to escape disease, if exposed to its causes when attending religious meetings, than they would be, if similarly exposed, by attending theatres, balls, or assemblies of any other kind?"

No one who has attended the religious meetings under consideration, or who has read accounts of them in religious periodicals, will say they are not powerfully exciting, and productive of great mental distress. Indeed, this is what the conductors of these meetings seek to produce, and what is published as evidence of their utility, and of the operation of the Holy Spirit. The most careful narrators of the proceedings at these meetings, and of the effects which they produce, mention the "unusual excitement," the "great solemnity," the "tears and groans," the "audible sighing and sobbing," "weeping aloud in the sanctuary," "trembling and turning pale," of "despair," &c. And then of "relief from suffering," of "joy and rejoicing," of "glowing and burning with holy love," &c. &c. Those who become excited and agitated, are called "the mourners," "the anxious," "the alarmed," or by other names, significant of their disturbed minds.

Now, I shall say nothing of the demoralizing effects which often arise from these excitements, nothing of the humiliating exhibitions of fanaticism and folly, which accompany them; my business is with their physical effects; and if there is any virtue in human reason, any dependence upon human science, these are injurious, dangerous, and often eventually fatal.

Excessive cerebral action, strong and continued nervous excitement is always injurious; nature knows no exception to her laws; and it is absurd, to suppose the Holy Spirit arrests their operation in these particular cases. Besides, it is certain that those particular states of extacy -- of trance -- of inspiration, "which the zealous point out with such triumph, are sometimes brought on by various nervous diseases; are seen in catalepsy; and may be produced by animal magnetism; and if they are the result of the operations of the Holy Spirit in the one case, why are they not in the others?

But I need not dwell on this subject; it will be conceded, I trust, that religious excitement in the extent to which it is often carried in this country; violates the laws of nature, by causing excessive cerebral action, that it must be prejudicial to physical health, and that whatever is so, cannot be of God.

The effect of all these various causes of too great cerebral excitement which I have mentioned, may be classed in two divisions; such as arise from an undue expenditure of the cerebral influence as a whole; or such as arise from over stimulus of particular organs.

Under the first head may be noticed many forms of disease, peculiarly prevalent in the United States, which evidently arise from excessive cerebral action; but of which I shall only notice dyspepsia and insanity.

Dyspepsia, that canker-worm which gnaws at and slowly undermines the soundest constitution, prevails in this country to an extent unknown elsewhere in the world: of this there is no manner of question; nor is there a doubt, that it prevails much more in the present, than in past generations. The causes are obvious: there must be a communication between the stomach and brain, by means of the nerves, in order that the digestive process may go on well; interrupt this communication, and you stop digestion; restore it, and it goes on again. Now, if the brain is exhausted, if its influence is carried to another part, and not to the stomach; or, if it be so impaired that it cannot afford nervous stimulus to the stomach, digestion is impaired, precisely as the muscles of the body cannot contract without the necessary cerebral stimulus is sent to them, and as the strength of the contraction is mainly dependent upon this stimulus. Now, give to two dogs a full meal, let one lie down and rest, so that the whole cerebral influence may be exercised over the stomach; and set the other to hunting, let the cerebral influence be expended upon the muscles, and withdrawn from the stomach, and in four hours, examine the two; the stomach of the first will be found almost empty, and the food converted into chyle; the other will contain what the dog had eaten, and but half digested. But I will spend no words on what is now admitted as an axiom by all physiologists, phrenological, and anti-phrenological; there is no doubt but the great majority of cases of dyspepsia in this country, arise from an abuse and over excitement of the cerebral organ; and those few which form the exception to this, arise from some violation of the organic laws; from eating too much, or too fast, or too hot, all of which may be claimed as American, and errors of our social system. And, we may add, that we take not sleep enough for digestion; Caesar would have found few here to answer his purpose, when he said, "Let me have fat, sleek-headed men about me, such as sleep o'nights." But he would have said of us as he did of Cassius, "Yon Yankee has a lean and hungry look; he thinks too much; such men are dangerous."

The extent of insanity in this country has already become alarming; but all nervous diseases are on the increase, and, with insanity, will doubtless continue to be so. The entire number of insane is computed to be already fifty thousand! In some of the New England States the proportion is as one to every two hundred and fifty inhabitants, while in Old England, where insanity is more prevalent than in any country of Europe, the proportion is only as one to eight hundred and twenty! This is a serious, an awful consideration; it is one of the penalties which outraged nature inflicts upon society; and upon our social institutions must fall the moral guilt, and the moral responsibility for such an amount of suffering for such an abuse and destruction of the highest prerogative of man, the noblest trust reposed in us by God, -- the human reason!

But the subject of insanity has already been treated of, before you, by one abler than myself to pourtray its horrors. Among the consequences of a secondary nature, and arising, not from general cerebral excitement, but from the excessive development given to special organs of the brain by our Social Institutions, may be noticed, first, the mammon worship to which I have already alluded, and which makes us the most money-seeking race on earth; and, second, the excessive love of approbation, which makes us the most praise-seeking and ridiculously sensitive of men.

As a people, the Americans think more, and care more, for what is said about them, or what other people think of them, than any nation on earth. It is not to merit, but to get praise; and all sensible foreigners ridicule us for our sensitiveness to their opinions. We are continually striving to put the best foot forward before them, to show them how well we deserve to be called the freest, the most enlightened, the most prosperous, the most moral people that ever existed. We can bear no criticism, no censure, and least of all, no ridicule.

And, among ourselves, in our social circles, what an anxiety about appearances, about the estimate we are held in by others; how seldom is the question asked, Is such an action right? in comparison to -- "Why! what will people think, what will the world say?" How many make themselves uncomfortable and unhappy, in order to do, or keep up a show of doing, not what they really take any pleasure in, but what they think will please others, or cause their envy.

And then, our love of distinction! our love of titles! our eager scrambles to get on any stone, that will raise us a head above our neighbors, that they may gaze at and admire us. Our luxury, to be enjoyed, must be visible , our cup of prosperity is never full enough, unless we can hold it brimming up to public view"; and even in our griefs, we find food for the love of notice, and the bereaved mourner must have his name, and the kind of his loss read aloud from the pulpit, as though the Deity would not know from whom the prayer was intended.

With all our boasted republican simplicity, we are more covetous of distinction, and have more titled men than aristocratic Britain; we have more generals, colonels, and captains, than warlike France; we have more A.M's., A.B's., D.D'S., LL.D's., &c., than learned Germany: every man assumes some title; any one, above a boot-black, is an esquire: even the ladies come in for their share, and it must be, Mrs. General A., Mrs. Colonel B., Mrs. Secretary C., Mrs. President D., and so on.

But my hour has already elapsed, and it is perhaps necessary that I should devote a few moments to shield myself from your displeasure, which my severity toward our social institutions may have brought on me: I can do so, for I have in this respect a feeling like that of Alfieri, who thanked God that he was born in the highest rank of the nobility of Italy, that he might expose its depravity and wickedness without the suspicion of being influenced by envy; so I, being a genuine American, and feeling that, on the whole, our social institutions are the best in the world, I presume upon my citizenship to criticize them.

Our country is far advanced in civilization; but, how far is man, here and every where, from the bright goal to which he may one day attain! and how much may he advance toward it, by due attention to his physical, moral, and intellectual nature, and the laws of animal organization by which they are modified and influenced. These have hitherto been unknown and neglected, or imperfectly perceived, and vaguely followed. Phrenology points them out clearly; it presents a plain chart of the mind -- a simple and beautiful system of moral philosophy; and though not a single organ could be pointed out on the head, it would still be invaluable. Let us follow then its precepts; let the body, the instrument of the soul, be a fit one for it to operate with; let our social institutions be such as to improve, as far as may be, its original structure; let every individual preserve it in healthy tone; for as well may he hope for the sweetest sounds from an inferior or discordant instrument, as the finer manifestations of spirit, from an inferior or deranged organization: the harp must be well formed; its strings must all be in the nicest tune, or the fingers that play upon it, the wind that sighs through it, will produce but discord: the body is a harp of thousand strings -- the breath of the spirit moves among them -- may it be so attuned, that the spirit can give forth those sweet sounds which proclaim its heavenly origin, and indicate its heavenly destiny!