Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB
[blocks in formation]

I AM anxious to press this idea earnestly on your consideration, because it appears to me to constitute the grand difference between the old and the new philosophy. The characteristic feature of the old philosophy, founded on the knowledge, not of man's nature, but of his political history, is, that Providence intended different lots for men (a point in which the new philosophy agrees), and that, in the Divine appointment of conditions, the millions, or masses of the people, were destined to act the part only of industrious ministers to the physical wants of society, while a favored few were meant to be the sole recipients of knowledge and refinement. It was long regarded, not only as Utopian, but as actually baneful and injurious to the happiness of the industrious classes themselves, to open up their minds to high and comprehensive views of their own capabilities and those of external nature; because it was said that such ideas might render them discontented with the condition which the arrangements of the Creator have assigned to them. According to the old philosophy, therefore, it is not a duty imposed on every individual to exercise his intellectual powers in extending his acquaintance with nature; on the contrary, according to it, a working man fulfills his destiny when he becomes master of his trade, acquires a knowledge of his moral and religious duties from the Bible, and quietly practices them, rears a family of laborers, and, unmoved by ambition, unenlightened by science, and unrefined by accomplishments, sinks into the grave, in a good old age, to give place to an endless succession of beings like himself. Human nature was viewed as stationary, or at least regarded as depending for its advance on Providence, or on the higher classes, and in no degree on humbler men.

The new philosophy, on the other hand, or that which is founded on a knowledge of man's nature, admits the allotment of distinct conditions to different individuals, because it recognizes differences in their mental and bodily endowinents: but in surveying the human faculties it discovers that all men possess, in a greater or less degree, powers of observation and reflection adapted to the study of nature; the sentiment of Ideality prompting them to desire refinement and perfect institu.tions; the feeling of Benevolence longing for universal happiness; the sentiment of Conscientiousness rejoicing in justice; and emotions of Hope, Veneration, and Wonder causing the glow of religious devotion to spring up in their souls, and their whole being to love, worship, and obey the beneficent Author of their existence. And it proclaims that beings so gifted were not destined to exist as mere animated machinery, liable to be superseded at every stage of their lives by the steam-engine, the pulley, or the lever; but were clearly intended to advance in their mental attainments, and to rise higher and higher in the scale of intelligence, virtue, and happiness.

This conclusion is irresistible, if the general idea of the Divine administration, communicated in the previous Lecture, be sound, viz., that all the evolutions of physical nature proceed under fixed, independent, and harmonious laws. Under such a system, the Creator speaks forth from every element, and proclaims that every human being must acquire knowledge or suffer evil. As it is not probable that the Creator has bestowed capacities and desires on his creatures which their inevitable condition renders it impossible for them to cultivate and gratify, we may reasonably presume that the fulfillment of every necessary duty is compatible with enlarged mental attainments in the race. There are, no doubt, humble minds, incapable of high cultivation, who are adapted to the humble stations of life, but they do not constitute the majority of mankind; they are susceptible of improvement far beyond their present attainments, and in a thoroughly moral and enlightened

community no useful office will be degrading; nor will any be incompatible with the due exercise of the highest faculties of man.

It is delightful to perceive that these views are gaining ground, and are daily more and more advocated by the press. I recommend to your perusal a work just published (1835), entitled, "My Old House, or the Doctrine of Changes," in which they are ably and eloquently enforced. Speaking of the purposes of God in the administration of the world, the author observes, that "the great error of mankind, on this subject, has at all times been, that feeling themselves, at least in the vast multitude of cases, to occupy (by the ordination of Providence, or by what they commonly consider as their unfortunate lot in life), but a very obscure and laborious station in the household, they are apt to think that it matters little with what spirit they advance to their toils -that they can not be in a condition to give any appreciable advancement to the plans of the Master-and that, at any rate, if they do not altogether desert their place, and permit it to run into disorder, they have done all that can well be expected from them, or that they are indeed in a condition to do, for the progressive good of the whole. Take, for instance, the condition of a person, who, in the lowest and obscurest lot of life, is intrusted with the bringing up of a family-and how often do we hear from such persons the complaint, that all their cares are insufficient for the moment that is passing over their headsand that, providing they can obtain the mere necessaries of life, they can not be required to look to any higher purposes which may be obtained by their cares! And yet, what situation in life is in reality more capable of being conducted in the most efficient and productive manner, or more deserving the nicest and most conscientious care of those intrusted with it? For are not the hearts and understanding of the young committed to the immediate care of those who chiefly and habitually occupy the important scenes of domestic life-and if they pay a due regard, not only to the temporal, but to the moral and intellectual, interests of their charge-if they make home the seat of all the virtues which are so appropriately suited to it-if they set the example-an example which is almost never forgotten-of laborious worth struggling, it may be, through long years, and yet never disheartened in its toilsand if, by these means, they make their humble dwelling a scene of comfort, of moral training, and of both material and moral beauty, which attracts the eye and warms the hearts of all who witness it-how truly valuable is the part which such servants of the Master have been enabled to perform for the due regulation of all the parts of his household —and when their day of labor is done, and the cry goeth forth, 'Call the laborers to their reward,' with what placid confidence may they advance to receive the recompense of their toils—and be satisfied, as they prepare themselves for the rest that awaits them,' that, though their lot in life has been humble, and their toils obscure, they have yet not been unprofitable servants, and that the results of their labors shall yet be seen after many days.'" "The same style of thought may

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

be applied to all the varied offices which human life, even in its lowest forms, and most unnoticed places, can be found to present-and when these varied conditions and duties of the humble poor' are so considered, it will be found that a new light seems to diffuse itself over the whole plan of the divine kingdom-and that no task which the Master of the household can assign to any of his servants, is left without inducements to its fulfillment, which may prepare the laborer for the most cheerful and delighted attention to his works.” (P. 84.) How important is knowledge to the due fulfillment of the humble, yet respectable duties here so beautifully described!

I conclude this Lecture by observing that the duty of acquiring knowledge implies that of communicating it to others when attained; and there is no form in which the humblest individual may do more good, or assist more effectually in promoting the improvement and happiness of mankind, than in teaching them truth and its applications. I feel that I Jie under a moral obligation to communicate to you (who, by your attendance here, testify your desire of instruction) the knowledge concerning the natural laws of the Creator, which my own mind has been per

[ocr errors]

mitted to discover. I learn that other instructors of the people have considered it to be their duty, to denounce, as dangerous, the knowledge which is here communicated, and to warn you against it. But I am not moved by such declamations. What I teach you, I believe to be truth inscribed by the hand of God in the book of nature; and I have never been able to understand what is meant by a dangerous truth. All natural truth is simply knowledge of what the Creator has instituted; and it savors of impiety, and not of reverence, to stigmatize it as injurious. The very opposite is the fact. Lord Bacon has truly said, that there are, besides the authority of Scripture, two reasons of exceeding great weight and force, why religion should dearly protect all increase of natural knowledge: the one because it leads to the greater exaltation of the glory of God; for, as the Psalms and other Scriptures do often invite us to consider and to magnify the great and wonderful works of God, so if we should rest only in the contemplation of those which first offer themselves to our senses, we should do a like injury to the majesty of God, as if we should judge of the store of some excellent jeweler by that only which is set out to the street in his shop. The other reason is, because it is a singular help, and preservative against unbelief and error; for, says our Saviour, ye do err, not knowing the Scriptures nor the power of God; laying before us two books or volumes to study, if we will be secured from errorfirst, the Scriptures, revealing the will of God; and then the creatures expressing his power." We have seen, however, that not the power of God only, but also his will, is expressed in the constitution of "the creatures;” and hence a double reason becomes manifest why it is our duty to study them.

It would seem, therefore, that the instructors alluded to have assumed that it is not truth, but error, which is inculcated in this place. If they had pronounced such an opinion after inquiry, and for reasons stated, I should have been ready to listen to their objections, and reconsider my views; but they have condemned us unheard and untried -assuming boldly that, because we teach ideas different from their own individual notions, we are necessarily in error. This assumption indicates merely that our accusers have not arrived at the same perceptions of the Divine government with ourselves—a result that will by no means be wondered at by any one who considers that they have not followed the course of inquiry pursued by us. There is, however, some reason for surprise, that their opinions should be advanced as unquestionably superior to, and exclusive of, those of other men, adopted after patient observation and thought, seeing that many of them are the emanations of a dark age, in which the knowledge of nature's laws did not exist, and that they are prohibited, under pain of forfeiting their livings, from changing their tenets, even although they should see them to be erroneous.†

reason.

I advance here, for your acceptance, no propositions based on the authority of my own discernment alone; but I submit them all to your scrutiny and judgment. I enable you, as far as in me lies, to detect the errors into which I may inadvertently have fallen, and ask you to embrace only the ideas which seem to be supported by evidence and We are told by a great authority, to judge of all things by their fruits; and, by this test, I leave the doctrines of this philosophy to stand or fall. What are the effects of them on your minds? Do you feel your conceptions of the Deity circumscribed and debased by the views which I have presented-or, on the contrary, purified and exalted? In the simplicity, adaptations, and harmony of nature's laws, do you not recognize positive and tangible proof of the omniscience and omnipotence of the Creator-a solemn and impressive lesson, that

These Lectures were reported in one of the newspapers in Edinburgh, and during the delivery of them, more than one of the clergy of the Established Church preached sermons against them. The audience to whom they were addressed belong to that class of society over whom the clergy exercise the most powerful influence, and this appea, appeared to be called for to induce them to continue their attendance. In this respectl it was successful.

+ The Church of Scotland recently deposed from the ministry the author of "My Old House, or the Doctrine of Changes," on account of what they considered to be the heresy of his opinions.

in every moment of our existence, we live, and move, and have our being, supported by his power, rewarded by his goodness, and restrained by his justice? Does not this sublime idea of the continual presence of God now cease to be a vague, and therefore a cold and barren conception; and does it not, through the medium of the natural laws, become a deep-felt, encouraging, and controlling reality? Do your understandings revolt from such a view of creation, as ill adapted to a moral, religious, and intelligent being? or do they ardently embrace it, and leap with joy at light evolving itself from the moral chaos, and exhibiting order and beauty, authority and rule, in a vast domain where previously darkness, perplexity, and doubt prevailed? Do you feel your own nature debased by viewing every faculty as calculated for virtue, yet so extensive in its range, that when it moves blindly and without control it may find a sphere of action even beyond virtue, in the wild regions of vice? or do you perceive in this constitution a glorious liberty-yet the liberty only of moral beings, happy when they follow virtue, and miserable when they offend? In teaching you that every action of your lives has a consequence of good or evil annexed to it, according as it harmonizes with, or is in opposition to, the laws of God, do I promise impunity to vice, and thereby give a loose rein to the impetuosity of passion-or do I set up around the youthful mind a hedge and circumvallation, within which it may expatiate in light, and liberty, and joy; but beyond which lie sin and inevitable suffering, weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth? Let the tree, I say, be known by its fruits. Look to heaven, and see if the doctrines which I teach have circumscribed or darkened the attributes of the Supreme; then turn your contemplation inward, and examine whether they have degraded or exalted, chilled or inspired with humble confidence and hope, the soul which God has given you; and by your verdict, pronounced after this consideration, let the fate of the doctrines be sealed. In teaching them, be it repeated, I consider myself to be discharging a moral duty; and no frown of men will tempt me to shrink from proceeding in such a course. If my exposition of the Divine government be true, it is a noble vocation to proclaim it to the world; for the knowledge of it must be fraught with blessings and enjoyment to man. It would be a cold heart and a coward soul that, with such convictions, should fear the face of clay; and only a demonstration of my being in error, or the hand of the destroyer Death, shall arrest my course in proclaiming any knowledge that I possess which promises to augment the virtue and happiness of mankind. If you participate in these sentiments, let us advance and fear not-encouraged by the assurance, that if this doctrine be of man it will come to naught, but that if it be of God, no human authority can prevail against it!

LECTURE IV.

PRESERVING BODILY AND MENTAL HEALTH, A MORAL DUTY; AMUSE

MENTS.

The preservation of health is a moral duty - Causes of bad health are to be found in infringement of the organic laws-All the bodily organs must be preserved in proportionate vigor-The pleasures attending high health are refined, and distinguishable from sensual pleasures-The habits of the lower animals are instructive to man in regard to health-Labor is indispensable to health-Fatal consequences of continued, although slight, infractions of the organic laws-Amusements necessary to health, and therefore not sinful-We have received faculties of Time, Tune, Ideality, Imitation, and Wit, calculated to invent and practice amusements-Their uses and abuses stated-Error of religious pers ns who condemn instead of purifying and improving public amusements.

THE next duty of man, as an individual, is to apply his knowledge in preserving himself in health, bodily and mental. Without health he is unfit for the successful discharge of his duties. It is so advantageous and agreeable to enjoy sound health, that many persons will exclaim, "No prophet is needed to inform us that it is our duty and our interest sedulously to guard it;" but many who treat thus lightly the general injunction, are grievously deficient in practical knowledge how to carry it into effect. It is true that every man in his senses takes care not to fall into the fire or walk into a pool of water; but how many valuable lives are put in jeopardy by sitting in wet clothes, by overtasking the

brain in study or in the cares of business, by too frequently repeated convivialities, or other habits that sap the foundations of health!

In tracing to their source the calamities which arise to families and individuals from bad health and untimely death, attended by deep laceration of their feelings and numerous privations, it is surprising how many of them may be discovered to arise from slight but long-continued deviations from the dictates of the organic laws; apparently so trivial at first that scarcely any injurious or even disagreeable result was observed, but which, nevertheless, were from the beginning importatn errors, whose injurious consequences constantly increased. Perhaps the victim had an ardent mind, and, under the impulse of a laudable ambition to excel in his profession, studied with so much intensity, and for such long periods in succession, that he overtasked his brain and ruined his health. His parents and relations, equally ignorant with himself of the organic laws, were rejoicing in his diligence, and forming fond expectations of the brilliant future that must, in their estimation, await one so gifted in virtuous feeling, in intellect, and in industry; when suddenly he was seized with fever, with inflammation, or with consumption, and in a few days or weeks was carried to the tomb. The heart bleeds at the sight; and the ways of Providence appear hard to be reconciled with our natural feelings and expectations; yet when we trace the catastrophe to its first cause, it is discovered to have had no mysterious or vindictive origin. The habits which appeared to the spectators so praiseworthy, and calculated to lead to such excellent attainments, were practically erroneous, and there was not one link wanting to complete the connection between them and the evil which they induced.

Another cause by which health and life are frequently destroyed, is occasional reckless conduct, pursued in ignorance of the laws of the human constitution. Take as an example the following case, which I have elsewhere given: A young man in a public office, after many months of sedentary occupations, went to the country on a shooting excursion, where he exhausted himself by muscular exertion, of which his previous habits had rendered him little capable; he went to bed feverish, and perspired much during the night: next day he came to Edinburgh, unprotected by a great-coat, on the outside of an early coach; his skin was chilled, the perspiration was checked, the blood received an undue determination to the interior vital organs, disease was excited in the lungs, and within a few weeks he was consigned to the grave.

I received an interesting communication in illustration of the topic which I am now discussing, from a medical gentleman well known in the literary world by his instructive publications. His letter was suggested by a perusal of the "Constitution of Man." On four several occasions," says he, "I have nearly lost my life from infringing the organic laws. When a lad of fifteen, I brought on a brain fever (from excessive study) which nearly killed me; at the age of nineteen I had an attack of peritonitis (inflammation of the lining membrane of the abdomen) occasioned by violent efforts in wrestling and leaping; and while in France, nine years ago, I was laid up with pneumonia (inflammation of the lungs) brought on by dissecting in the great galleries of La Pitié with my coat and hat off in the month of December, the windows next to me being constantly open; and in 1829 I had a dreadful fever, occasioned by walking home from a party, at which I had been dancing, in an exceeding cold morning, without a cloak or great-coat. I was for four months on my back, and did not recover perfectly for more than eighteen months. All these evils were entirely of my own creating, and arose from a foolish violation of laws which every sensible man ought to observe and regulate himself by. Indeed, I have always thought and your book confirms me more fully in the sentimentthat, by proper attention, crime and disease and misery of every sort, could, in a much greater measure than is generally believed, be banished from the earth, and that the true method of doing so is to instruct people in the laws which govern their own frame."*

*The author of this letter was Dr. Robert Macnish, and I regret to say, that since it was written he bas fallen a victim to another attack of fever.

The great requisite of health is the preservation of all the leading organs of the body in a condition of regular and proportionate activity; to allow none to become too languid, and none too active. The result of this harmonious activity is a pleasing consciousness of existence, experienced when the mind is withdrawn from all exciting objects and turned inward on its own feelings. A philosophical friend once remarked to me, that he never considered himself to be in complete health, except when he was able to place his feet firmly on the turf, his hands hanging carelessly by his sides, his eyes wandering over space, and thus circumstanced, to feel such agreeable sensations arising in his mere bodily frame, that he could raise his mind to heaven, and thank God that he was a living man. This description of the quiet, pleasing enjoyment which accompanies complete health appears to me to be admirable. It can hardly be doubted that the Creator intended that the mere play of our bodily organs should yield us pleasure. It is probable that this is the chief gratification enjoyed by the inferior animals; and although we have received the high gift of reason, it does not necessarily follow that we should be deprived of the delights which our organic nature is fairly calculated to afford. How different is the enjoyment which I have described, arising from the temperate, active, harmonious play of every bodily function-from sensual pleasure, which results from the abuse of a few of our bodily appetites, and is followed by lasting pain; and yet so perverted are human notions, in consequence of ignorance and vicious habits, that thousands attach no idea to the phrase bodily pleasure but that of sensual indulgence. The pleasurable feelings springing from health are delicate and refined; they are the supports and rewards of virtue, and altogether incompatible with vicious gratification of the appetites. So widely do the habits of civilized life depart from the standards of nature, that I fear this enjoyment is known, in its full exquisiteness, to comparatively few. Too many of us, when we direct our attention to our bodily sensations, experience only feelings of discomfort, anxiety, and discontent, which make us fly to an external pursuit, that we may escape from ourselves. This undefined uneasiness is the result of slight, but extensive derangement of the vital functions, and is the prelude of future disease. The causes of these uneasy feelings may be traced in our erroneous habits, occupations, and physical condition; and until society shall become so enlightened as to adopt extensive improvements in all these particulars, there is no prospect of their termination.

It is instructive to compare with our own the modes of life of the lower animals, whose actions and habits are directly prompted and regulated by the Creator, by means of their instincts; because, in all circumstances in which our constitution closely resembles theirs, their conduct is really a lesson read to us by the Allwise himself. If, then, we survey them attentively, we observe that they are incited to a course of action calculated to produce harmonious activity in all their vital organs, and thus insure their possession of health. Animals in a state of nature are remarkably cleanly in their habits. You must have observed the feathered tribes dressing their plumage and washing themselves in the brooks. The domestic cat is most careful to preserve a clean, sleek, glossy skin; the dog rolls himself on grass or straw; and the horse, when grazing, does the same, if he has not enjoyed the luxury of being well curried. The sow, although our standard of comparison for dirt, is not deserving of this character. It is invariably clean, wherever it is possible for it to be so; and its bad reputation arises from its masters, too frequently, leaving it no sphere of existence except dunghills and other receptacles of filth. In a stable-yard, where there is abundance of clean straw, the sleeping-place of the sow is unsoiled, and the creature makes great efforts to preserve it in this condition.

Again In a state of nature there has been imposed on the inferior animals, in acquiring their food, an extent of labor which amounts to regular exercise of their corporeal organs. And lastly, their food has been so adjusted to their constitutions, that without cookery they are well nourished, but very rarely rendered sick through surfeit, or the bad quality of what they eat. I speak always of animals in a state of nature. The domestic cow, which has stood in a house for many months, when first turned into a clover-field in summer, occasionally commits a surfeit; but she would not do so if left on the hill-side, and allowed to pick up her food by assiduous exertion. The animals, I repeat, are impelled directly by the Creator to act in the manner now described; and when we study their organization, and see its close resemblance to the human frame, we can not fail, while we admire the wisdom and benevolence displayed in their habits and constitution, hence to draw lessons for the regulation of our own.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

PORTRAIT OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH,

ONE OF THE BRITISH POETS.

THE BRITISH POETS:

THEIR LEADING PHRENOLOGICAL ORGANS.

[CONTINUED.]

[THE head of the poet Wordsworth is really an interesting study. Behold what a large, broad forehead and tophead is his! He was eminently the poet of logic and metaphysics. He had also very great imagination, and one reason why much of his poetry seems dry to people is, that he becomes to their minds obscure and metaphysical. His mind took a sweep above and beyond the range of others.

The organ of Time appears large, as well as Tune, and one quality of his poetry, it will be remembered, is the harmonious rhythm of it-the jingle, which sometimes is almost carried to excess.

His Benevolence was large, evincing kindness, affection, and a desire to do good. What a remarkable face! Such a countenance is indicative of a great predominance of the moral and intellectual over the animal. His Cautiousness was large, his Ideality and Sublimity immense, his Mirthfulness large, and nearly all the perceptive organs strongly marked. His Veneration being large, gave him a religious spirit.

He would have been a philosopher had he used his intellect merely, but his Imagination warmed the intellect of the philosopher and made him a poet.

The poet Thomson is known for the smooth flow of his poetry, and for the redundancy of his words, and we know of no portrait in which the organ of Language is more amply developed. He had, also, the vital temperament in considerable degree, which is favorable to a conversational, talkative, wordy spirit. Dickens has a similar temperament, and he, of all prose writers of his time, is the most wordy.

The face of Thomson presents a very childlike smoothness and roundness, indicative of a full degree of the vital temperament, and also of harmoniousness of organization. By the excessive fullness of the eye, especially the downward pressure of it toward the cheek, a remarkable copiousness of expression is indicated, for which his writings are noted. He had also a rather strong development of the mental or nervous temperament, but not enough of it to overcome the smoothness induced by the vital temperament, or to give him a sharpness or crispness of style.]

All the likenesses of the poet Thomson indicate, besides large Ideality and Perception, an unusual endowment of the organ of Language; and his great prodigality in the use of the latter faculty has been the chief target for the arrows of criticism. Dr. Johnson was accustomed, when any one was growing enthusiastic about the author of the "Seasons," to seize the poet's great work, read a favorite passage, and, after it had been warmly eulogized, inform the company that he had omitted every other line. Though this smacks somewhat of the occasional injustice of the great lexicographer, it is not the less true that many passages may be found in the "Seasons" so exceedingly amplified that entire lines can be expunged, with little injury to the sense or beauty of the paragraph.

The following lines may be cited, rather, however, to show how unjust Johnson's criticism might sometimes have been, though in the main correct. Upon the subject of disinterested goodness the poet sings

"But to the generous, still improving mind,
[That gives the hopeless heart to sing for joy,]
Diffusing kind beneficence around,
[Boastless as now descends the silent dew,]
To him, the long review of ordered life
Is inward rapture only to be felt."

The lines inclosed may be removed, certainly, without much affecting the mere sense of the passage; but who, for the sake of condensation, would wish away

"Boastless as now descends the silent dew," that truly poetical image of unostentatious benevolence. Many passages could be selected from the "Seasons" to which Johnson's criticism would much more justly apply, but the task is ungracious, and it is left for those who find equal pleasure in detecting faults as in discovering beautiesfor those who will wander through whole gardens, amid flowers of every hue and fragrance, to pluck an ugly weed, almost smothered in their sweets.

In the works of Oliver Goldsmith, edited by Washington Irving, is a fair engraving of the author, by J. B. Longacre, from a painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds, whose accuracy in likenesses, added to his own intimacy with the poet, induces an entire reliance upon its faithfulness. In this engraving the os frontis is finely developed. But the attention is chiefly arrested by the extraordinary protrusion of the organ of Locality, whose function, Phrenology supposes, imparts the love and desire for travel. Now, if there be any one trait more strongly marked than another, in the author of the "Traveller"-if there be a fact of his personal history more strongly impressed upon the memory of his admirers than another-it is that well-authenticated one of his having actually accomplished the tour of Europe on foot!-of having, in spite of innumerable obstacles, of want of friends, influence, and money, and, as he himself terms it," want of impudence," gratified the imperious demands of this organ by strolling from one end of Europe to the other, even when a smattering skill upon a flute constituted his principal means of support. That the inconveniences, the countless deprivations, and innumerable mor. tifications, attendant upon such a vagabond life, should have been incurred, and voluntarily incrrred, by a man of education and refined taste, by one of his peculiar sensitiveness, is by no means a common occurrence, even among the eccentric class of men to which, as a poet and man of genius, he belongs. So unconquerable was this propensity for wandering, that even after he had attained an enviable rank among the greatest writers of his age, his restlessness, and great anxiety for further travel, formed a prominent feature in his character. The well-known vanity of the poet may be ascribed to morbid Approbativeness. His selfish faculties, as a class, were rather small, and his utter want of common prudence is in harmony with the fact. But he also possessed, according to this engraving, strong social feelings; he had much of that organization which Phrenology says creates a love of home and its kindred pleasures. How, then, it may be inquired, does this agree with the predominance of an opposing faculty? Let the poet himself reconcile the apparent contradiction in the following lines:

"In all my wanderings round this world of care,
In all my griefs, and God has given my share,
I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown,
Amid these humble bowers to lay me down;
To husband out life's taper to its close,
And keep the flame from wasting, by repose;

I still had hopes, for pride attends us still,
Among the swains to show my book-learn'd skill-
Around the fire, an evening group to draw,
And tell of all I felt, and all I saw ;
And as a hare, whom horns and hounds pursue,
Pants to the place from whence at first she flew,
I still had hope, my long vexations past,
Here to return, and die at home at last."

The head of the poet Gray, in an engraving now before me, was full in size, of delicate temperament, and well developed in the perceptive region; Ideality is not large. The poetry of this author is essentially that of the man of talent and refined taste, as contrasted with the man of genius; his imagery is generally referable to the cullings of the scholar who had wandered over every field of past literature, selecting with ingenuity, and afterwards combining with fancy and feeling.

[graphic]
[graphic]

A Repository of Science, Literature, General Intelligence.

VOL. XXXI. NO. 6.]

ABOUT BOOKS.

Of books in general, we can only stop to say that they are the tongues of time, the evangels of science, the preachers of theology and religion, the counselors of youth, the solace of age, the lamps to light up the dark and dreary passages of man's journey through the wilderness of life, the mirrors to reflect the glories of the invisible world, and the guide-boards through the valley of the shadow of death. Or, on the other hand, they may be the abettors of every vice, the panderers to every lust, the seminaries of every species of folly and wickedness. Every one who can read, and who has the least desire for useful or entertaining knowledge, must have books; and, to the extent of his conscious wants, he should as freely spend his money for them as he would spend it in procuring food for the body; and in the selection of his books every one should be as careful as he would be in discriminating between wholesome food, trash, dirt and poison, while selecting nourishment for the body.

Books that deserve to be patronized at all, may be embraced under the following general classifi

cations:

1. Those that are indispensable.

2. Those that are convenient.

3 Those that are merely literary luxuries Under the first head are embraced all those books which convey knowledge indispensable to a proper development and right use of one's physical, mental, and moral powers. Under the second head are included all those that tend to facilitate the application of the knowledge acquired from those of the first class, and that aid man in attaining to excellence and eminence in such knowledge and its employment in the uses of life. And in the third classification are comprised all those that relate and minister to the full fruition, moral pleasures, and enjoyments of that which is rudimentally acquired by the aid of those of the first two classes.

Reader, that you may be aided in making a judicious selection of the books which are in some good degree to form your character, to guide you through life, and perhaps in no small measure to determine your state in the life to come, we send you a CATALOGUE, which you will find on the opposite side of this sheet. The general subject treated in each of the books mentioned in this list is indicated in the title with sufficient clearness to enable each one to judge of its probable adaptation to his wants. It is not presumed that all the books here mentioned will be needed by each person who receives this paper, yet we can hardly believe that any one can fail to find in the list something which he absolutely needs. Any one or

EXTRA.

more of these books will be forwarded by mail, post paid, on receipt of the prices named.

Any person ordering three dollars' worth at the prices named, shall be entitled to the Phrenological or Water-Cure Journal, as he may designate, for one year. Those sending $5, shall be entitled to a year's subscription to both these journals, or to LIFE ILLUSTRATED. For $10, we will send ten dollars' worth of books, and all three of these publications, for one year. Liberal discounts made to those who buy to sell again. Address FOWLER AND WELLS. 308 Broadway, NY.

THE ANGLO-SAXON RACE. In 1620 the Anglo-Saxon race numbered about 6,000,000, and was confined to England, Wales, and Scotland; and the combination of which it is the result was not then more than half perfected, for neither Wales nor Scotland was half Saxonized at the time. Now it numbers 60,000,000 of human beings planted upon all the islands and continents of the earth, and increasing everywhere by an intense ratio of progression. It is fast absorbing or displacing all the sluggish races or barbarous tribes of men that have occupied the continents of America, Africa, Asia, and the islands of the ocean. If no great physical revolution intervene to check its propagation, it will number 800,000,000 of human beings in less than one hundred and fifty years from the present timeall speaking the same language, centered to the same literature and religion, and exhibiting all its inherent and inalienable characteristics.

Thus the population of the earth is fast becoming Anglo-Saxonized by blood. But the English language is more self-expansive and aggressive than the blood of that race. When a community begin to speak the English language it is half Saxonized, even if not a drop of Anglo-Saxon blood runs in its veins. Ireland was never colonized from England like North America or Australia, but nearly the whole of its 7,000,000 or 8,000,000 already speak the English language, which is the preparatory state to being entirely absorbed into the Anglo-Saxon race as one of its most vigorous and useful elements. Everywhere the English language is gaining upon the languages of the earth, and preparing those who speak it for this absorption.

The young generation of the East Indies is learning it, and it is probable that within fifty years 65,000,000 of human beings of the Asiatic race will speak the language on that continent. So it is in the United States. About 50,000 emigrants from Germany and other countries of con

[WHOLE NUMBER, 258.

tinental Europe are arriving in this country every year, Perhaps they can not speak a word of English when they first land on our shores, but in the course of a few years they master the language to some extent. Their children sit upon the same seats, in our common schools, with those of native Americans, and become, as they grow up and diffuse themselves among the rest of the population, completely Anglo-Saxonized. Thus the race is fast occupying and subduing to its genius all the continents and islands of the earth.

The grandson of many a young man who reads these lines will probably live to see the day when the race will number its 800,000,000 human beings. Their unity, harmony, and brotherhood must be determined by the relations between Great Britain and the United States. Their union will be the union of the two worlds. If they discharge their duty to each other and to mankind, they must become the united heart of the mighty race they represent, feeding its myriad veins with the blood of moral and political life. Upon the state of their fellowship, then, more than upon the union of any two nations on earth, depends the wellbeing of humanity and the peace and progress of the world.

TEACH THE WOMEN TO SAVE. There's the secret. A saving woman at the head of a family is the very best savings' bank yet established-one that receives deposits daily and hourly, with no costly machinery to manage it. The idea of saving is a pleasant one, and if "the women" would imbibe it at once they would cultivate and adhere to it, and thus, when they were not aware of it, would be laying the foundation of a competent security in a stormy time, and shelter in a rainy day. The woman who sees to her own house has a large field to save in; the best way to make her comprehend it is for her to keep an account of current expenses. Probably not one wife in ten has an idea how much are the expenditures of herself and family. Where from one to two thousand dollars are expended annually, there is a chance to save something if the attempt is only made. Let the housewife take the idea--act upon it, and strive over it, and she will save many dollars-perhaps hundreds-where before she thought it impossible. This is a duty -not a prompting of avarice-a moral obligation that rests upon "the woman" as well as the man; but it is a duty, we are sorry to say, that is cultivated very little, even among those who preach the most, and regard themselves as examples in most matters. "Teach the women to save," is a good enough maxim to be inserted in the next edition of "Poor Richard's Almanac."

« AnteriorContinuar »