Chapter II: Part 2

Another circumstance which tends in youth to impede the vigorous growth of the brain and impair its action, and which owes its existence equally to ignorance of the laws of physiology, is error in diet. No fact can be more certain, or, indeed, is more generally admitted, than that the young require wholesome nourishing food, in larger quantities and at shorter intervals than when arrived at maturity. Accordingly, undue abstinence is admitted to be very hurtful in early life. And yet, notwithstanding the abstract acknowledgment of the fact, the practice of society is diametrically opposed to it, to the manifold injury of the young. The proper interval which ought to separate breakfast from dinner, because that at which vigorous appetite usually returns in healthy and active young people, is from four to five hours.[2] Beyond that time, waste goes on without any compensating supply, and exhaustion consequently follows, attended by weariness and a deteriorated state even of the digestive organs. So far are we, however, from conforming to the indications of nature in this respect, that the prevailing plan is, to make young people breakfast early, say at eight o’clock, that they may go to school in time; and, instead of giving them a good dinner, with an hour or two of relaxation, about four or five hours later, their lessons are considered more necessary than food, and while they are pushed on almost without interruption, dinner is postponed till eight or nine hours after breakfast, being at least three, and often five, hours after the time at which it is wanted by nature.

From much observation I am persuaded, not only that the growth and activity of the brain are impaired by this sad conduct, but that a great deal of the delicacy and bad health of the rising generation, and particularly a great deal of the increasing liability to dyspepsia which pervades society, is owing to the same preposterous departure from the laws of the Creator. It is no apology for the evil to say that it cannot be helped—that there is so much to be learned that the whole day must be given to it. When we become wiser, we shall discover that it is easier and pleasanter to learn in accordance with, than in opposition to, nature’s laws; and if we were once convinced of the fact, there would be no difficulty in altering the practice. We all admit that sleep is necessary, and that nature intended the night for repose; and, consequently, neither parent nor teacher thinks of setting his child to school in the night-time, however anxious he may be for its progress. And, in like manner, let society once be convinced that food at proper intervals is essential to the well-being of the young, and both time and opportunity will be found for giving it.

Another cause of failure in invigorating a faculty, and increasing an organ by its active exercise, seems to be an inadequate temperament. What is excitement to the faculties and brain of a person of a quick nervous or sanguine temperament, may prove utterly unexciting to the faculties and brain of one with a low apathetic lymphatic temperament; and, consequently, improvement in the faculty and organ may follow in the former, while no change on either will occur in the latter. The susceptibility will thus vary according to the nature of the original constitution; and hence, in attempting to develope any mental power, we can expect to be successful only when we are certain that we have really the means of exciting and keeping up its activity. A mere passing stimulus will not suffice to increase nutrition and growth.

Perhaps, also, we sometimes fail from applying a wrong stimulant. In seeking to improve a faculty, common sense dictates that it should be exercised upon its most agreeable and perfect productions. Thus, in cultivating a _taste for music_, we ought to present to the faculty the most beautiful and harmonious music, because that is the best calculated to excite it to agreeable and sustained activity. Accordingly, such is the plan by which we cultivate the taste in communities. But when we take an individual who has naturally no great liking for music, but in whom it is desirable that the talent should be developed, we do not stimulate the faculty to healthful exercise by daily accustoming it to the perception and discrimination of fine sounds, but we set him or her to labour for hours every day in producing sounds, remarkable at first only for being so discordant and disagreeable as to make every one keep as far from their source as possible; and thus our aim is defeated, and the taste injured rather than improved. It is true, that by stoical perseverance some arrive ultimately at the power of producing sounds pleasing to their own ears; but it will be found that it is only then that their musical faculty _begins_ to be improved, and that its activity is felt to be delightful. Many never arrive at that point, and, after years of ineffectual labour, give up the attempt in despair.

I do not mean by these remarks, that _playing on an instrument_ should be taught merely by listening to good music. Playing is a mechanical exercise, calling other faculties into activity, and cannot be acquired without practice. Besides, playing is not music, but only the means by which it is produced; and, so far as regards the music alone, the enjoyment is quite as great _whoever_ produces it, as if we ourselves did. Often, however, the mistake is committed of thinking that we are using the most effectual means to develope a taste for music, when we place the young person at an old piano to rattle out discordant sounds for several hours a day; and we are grieved and disappointed at the ultimate failure of an experiment which, in the very nature of things, could not possibly succeed. By assiduous practice on an instrument we exercise the _mechanical_ faculties, and may thus develope _their_ organs to an increased extent. But to produce the same effect on the faculty of Tune, we must stimulate it to sustained activity, by daily accustoming it to the hearing of exquisite music, and by guiding the judgment to the appreciation of beauties. We may then hope to promote increased action and growth in its organ.

I believe that in regard to some of the other faculties we commit a similar mistake, and imagine that education fails to invigorate them and develope their organs, when, in fact, our endeavours have been wrongly directed, and could not be successful; but the present paper has run already to so great a length, that I must postpone any farther remarks on this part of the subject till another opportunity.

Before taking leave, however, I would again enforce the absolute necessity of physiological knowledge for the successful guidance of teachers and parents. If the size of the cerebral organs admits of being increased by judicious exercise, and impaired or retarded by mismanagement, it obviously becomes an indispensable qualification for those who undertake their right direction to possess an accurate acquaintance with the functions and laws of the animal economy; and it is rather strange that we should have gone on to the present day without such an obvious truth having been universally perceived and acted upon.

Having now shown, 1st, That judicious mental exercise promotes the development of the cerebral organs in youth; 2dly, That there is strong presumptive evidence in proof of the same effect taking place even in mature age; 3dly, That we are still little acquainted with other important physiological conditions which act powerfully in modifying the results of exercise; and 4thly, That the knowledge of these conditions would greatly extend the efficacy of moral and intellectual education, and multiply our means of advancing the moral welfare and happiness of the race; I do not require to add another word to induce phrenologists to collect additional evidence on all the doubtful points, and to prosecute the enquiry with persevering accuracy, and with a constant view to its important practical advantage.

[1] “Principles of Physiology,” &c. 5th edit. p. 292, &c.

[2] See “The Physiology of Digestion considered with Relation
to the Principles of Dietetics.” Second edition, p. 198.

We have selected the above article from the “Edinburgh Phrenological Journal” for the purpose of calling the attention of phrenologists in this country to the important principles which it contains. The article comes from the pen of a gentleman who probably understands the physiology of the brain, and its real functions, better than any other man living. It is unnecessary for us to dwell on the importance of correctly understanding the above principles, as connected with phrenology, and the desirableness of collecting additional evidence, in order to elucidate them, and show their numerous applications to the various duties and pursuits of life. We would therefore solicit for publication in this Journal, facts showing the positive increase, either in _size_ or _activity_, of any particular organ or organs; and also communications tending to illustrate and establish more fully the truth of the enquiries proposed by Dr. Combe, respecting the true physiological laws of the brain.—ED.

ARTICLE V.

PHRENOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENTS AND CHARACTER OF WILLIAM MILLER, WHO WAS EXECUTED AT WILLIAMSPORT, PA., JULY 27TH, 1838, FOR THE MURDER OF SOLOMON HOFFMAN.

MR. EDITOR,—

Being in Williamsport, Pa., in the month of May, I was invited
by James Armstrong, Esq., prosecuting attorney of Lycoming
County, and Mr. Lloyd, high sheriff of said county, to examine
the head of a William Miller, who was then in prison awaiting
his trial for the murder of a German pedlar by the name of
Hoffman. On entering his cell, I found a good looking, not to
say a handsome young man, about twenty years of age, in irons,
exhibiting no peculiar marks of intelligence, yet a vacuity
of expression, a mysterious, reserved appearance, with a
countenance somewhat downcast but rather sullen. On proceeding
with the examination, I found it one of the most painfully
interesting cases that had ever fallen under my observation.
The developments and their combinations struck me at once
as extremely unfavourable; and, upon this account, I took
particular pains to obtain precise and accurate admeasurements.
They were taken in the presence of the above named gentlemen,
before the trial, and in the absence of all knowledge
concerning the prisoner’s _real_ character, except that he was
charged with murder.

It is to _these measurements_, rather than to any statements
of my own, that I wish to call particular attention. They
are as follows, including the integuments. The allowance
generally made for these, is two-eighths of an inch; but, as
his integuments were unusually thick, three-eighths of an inch
should be deducted in the present case. This will give very
accurately the measurements of the skull itself.

_Measurements of the Head_

Inches

Circumference of the head around Philoprogenitiveness,
Secretiveness, and Eventuality, 21⅞
From Occipital Spine to Individuality, over Firmness, 12⅝
” Destructiveness to Destructiveness, 7
” Combativeness to Combativeness, 6½
” Ear to Firmness, 6⅜
” ” Benevolence, 4¾
” ” Individuality, 5

The _general_ configuration of the head was not less
interesting than the particular developments. Whilst the
heads of highly moral and intellectual men generally measure
from one and a half to three inches more from Individuality
to Philoprogenitiveness than from Destructiveness to
Destructiveness, _his_ head was nearly round. The coronal
region was poorly developed. The sides of the head were bulged
out to an extraordinary extent, whilst it was flattened
behind, evidently indicating deficient social feelings. The
cerebral fibres were very short from the ear to the organs in
the anterior lobe of the brain, as well as from the ear to
Adhesiveness and Philoprogenitiveness. His head was somewhat
above the average size. His body was strong and well built,
yet the quality of his organisation was rather gross. His
temperament was principally lymphatic bilious, with some of the
sanguine, but scarcely any traces of the nervous.[3] Such a
temperament is much more favourable to the exercise of physical
than mental power, and to the manifestations of the animal
propensities than of the moral sentiments and the intellectual
faculties.

Having observed the organisation of the body, and of the
_general_ form of the head, I commenced a minute comparison of
the relative size of the respective organs. The result is as
follows:—

Amativeness, full.
Philoprogenitiveness, average.
Adhesiveness, moderate.
Inhabitiveness, full.
Concentrativeness, large.
Combativeness, large.
Destructiveness, very large.+
Alimentiveness, large.
Acquisitiveness, very large.+
Secretiveness, very large.
Cautiousness, large.
Approbativeness, moderate.
Self-esteem, very large.
Firmness, very large.
Conscientiousness, small.
Hope, large.
Marvellousness, moderate.
Veneration, full.
Benevolence, moderate.
Imitation, average.
Ideality, small.
Constructiveness, full.
Mirthfulness, moderate.
Individuality, full.
Form, full.
Size, large.
Weight, full.
Colour, moderate.
Order, average.
Calculation, full.
Locality, large.
Eventuality, average.
Tune, uncertain.
Time, ”
Language, average.
Causality, ”
Comparison, ”

I shall describe only the _extremes_ of development, and the
general result of their respective combinations in activity.
The organs located in the sides of the head were the first
to arrest my attention. It was the development, not of any
_one_ of these organs (selfish propensities), but the immense
size of the _whole_ of them, acting without the restraints
of either the intellect or the moral sentiments, which would
constitute the leading features of character. Acquisitiveness,
Secretiveness, Destructiveness, Self-esteem, and Firmness, were
all “very large;” Combativeness and Cautiousness were “large,”
with Benevolence, Ideality, and Adhesiveness, “moderate.” Any
well informed phrenologist can easily predicate the effects
resulting from such combination.

His predominating Acquisitiveness and Self-esteem would render
him _supremely_ selfish, and incline him (Conscientiousness
being deficient) to appropriate things to himself, without
regard to the principles of justice or the right of others. His
Secretiveness, Destructiveness, Firmness, and Combativeness,
with average intellect, would enable him to devise and execute
plans with tolerable success for gratifying his selfish
feelings. Still he had not sufficient Causality to plan on
a large scale, nor to adapt means to ends successfully in
the long run. He would deal principally in “little things.”
Conscientiousness and Benevolence would but feebly remonstrate
against any measures, however unjust or cruel, which his other
faculties might devise and carry into effect. Having weak
Adhesiveness and Benevolence, and very large Secretiveness,
he would be unsocial, almost destitute of friendship, spend
most of his time _by himself_, would have few intimates, and
no confidants among his acquaintances or even relatives. Few
persons would know any thing concerning him; a mystery would
hang over all his affairs and conduct.

His “very large” Secretiveness and Acquisitiveness doubtless
held predominant sway in his character. These, unrestrained,
would lay claim to, and appropriate to himself, that which did
not belong to him, by fraud, deception, stealth, cheating,
pilfering, &c. And Destructiveness “very large” would add to
these, robbery and even murder. Having little sympathy or
affection, with this organisation, I should not be surprised to
learn that even his relatives and friends had fallen victims
to his predominating Acquisitiveness and Destructiveness.

There is one faculty in particular which must have entered
very largely into the composition of his character—viz.
Secretiveness. He was doubtless very sly, artful, and full
of plots and stratagems. While he would be cunning, and make
few, if any, confessions or acknowledgments, still he did not
possess great fore-thought or penetration. But in the art of
dissembling, and making false pretensions, he must have been a
perfect adept.

Having “moderate” Approbativeness and “small”
Conscientiousness, he would have little regard for his
character, or for what was thought and said of him, and
experience but little shame or remorse. His “very large”
Firmness would render him persevering in deception and
crime—would carry him through any difficulties, and render him
obstinate, wilful, and blindly set upon gratifying his selfish
propensities. This organisation would render him vindictive
in the highest degree, and whatever he might do or say, he
would always _justify himself_. Another striking fact was the
“small” development of Ideality. I have long observed that this
organ was almost invariably small in criminals, and its marked
deficiency in the present instance struck me with peculiar
force. Numerous facts have led me to believe, that a proper
development and exercise of Ideality is about as favourable to
virtue and morality as even the influence of Conscientiousness.
By refining the feelings, it begets a disgust for vice, because
it is loathsome, and thereby promotes virtue. The organs of
the intellect were not remarkable for either their size or
deficiency. But in their exercise, they would be controlled
principally by the selfish feelings.

During the examination, allusion was made to the fact, (which
he had frequently related before,) that the day previous to the
murder he had become very angry, in consequence of meeting with
some accident in his mechanical labours, and broke in pieces
the object of his resentment. I afterwards was informed, that
he was often subject to turns of anger, and that he conducted
strangely at such times—that he would neither work, talk, nor
eat, but either sit or lie down in silence and sullenness for
hours. In view of these facts, the prisoner’s counsel attempted
to account for the murder by pleading at the trial partial
insanity, but were unsuccessful. I was partly of the opinion,
that Destructiveness was morbidly excited prior to the murder.
But subsequent facts induced me to change it.

I have thus stated the impressions made upon my mind during the
examination, and deduced a few leading features of character,
on strictly phrenological principles, without any knowledge of
the real character or private history of William Miller, aside
from a few immediate facts connected with the murder of Hoffman.

Yours, &c.
O. S. FOWLER,
210 Chesnut street.

Philadelphia, October 20th, 1838.

On the reception of the above letter, wishing to learn farther particulars, we addressed a line to the Hon. Ellis Lewis, presiding judge of the court at the trial of William Miller, to which we received the following reply:—

_To the Editor of the American Phrenological Journal._

Williamsport, December 29th, 1838.

Sir,—

Absence from home on public duties has prevented, until
this time, an answer to yours of the 1st ult., requesting
particulars respecting the trial and execution of WILLIAM
MILLER. I do not know that any paper contains these
particulars, and I will therefore endeavour to comply with your
request by the following brief statement.

William Miller was indicted for the murder of Solomon Hoffman,
an offence committed in Jackson township, in this county
(Lycoming), on the first day of February, 1838. On the first
day of May, 1838, a jury was sworn to try the cause. The first
count charged the offence in the usual manner. The second count
set forth that the crime was committed “by lying in wait in,
upon, and near a public highway.” The evidence on the part of
the commonwealth fully established the facts following:—That
Solomon Hoffman was a traveling pedlar, carrying a pack on his
back; that he sojourned one night at Bastian’s tavern, situate
at the edge of the woods between the Block-House settlement and
Pont Run; that William Miller was a cabinet-maker, boarding
at the same house; that these two individuals slept in the
same room together that night; that Miller, on being urged by
Hoffman in the morning to purchase goods, declined, stating
that he had borrowed money from Bastians, and did not wish them
to know that he had money, but proposed to purchase of Hoffman,
_if the latter would stop at the side of the road, in the
woods_, where Miller stated that _he_ would be engaged cutting
wood, as the other passed along on his way. This was agreed to.
Miller stationed himself by the way side, with his axe, for
the purpose of executing his plan of destruction. The deceased
soon made his appearance; and while he was stooping down to
take some articles out of the pack to exhibit to Miller, the
latter killed him with the axe. Having taken such articles as
he desired at the time, and all the money in the pocket book of
the deceased, Miller buried the dead body and the pack under
the leaves and snow, the latter being upwards of two feet deep
in the woods. The deceased was a stranger—a German—and had but
one relative, a brother, in this country. That brother he had
engaged to meet the next day after the murder in Bloomingrove;
but as he did not fulfil that appointment, the brother was
alarmed, and made a most anxious and scrutinising search for
the deceased, but could find no traces of him whatever after
he left Bastians in the morning. The brother then came to the
public house of George Duitch, in Williamsport, to proceed
on his journey, giving up all hope of ascertaining the cause
of the mysterious disappearance of the deceased. By what
might be regarded as a singular intervention of Providence,
Miller _came_ to _this tavern_, which was twenty or thirty
miles from his residence, _introduced himself_ to the brother
of the deceased, and, by his _voluntary prevarications_ and
_falsehoods_, excited suspicion, which, upon farther scrutiny,
led to the full disclosure of his guilt.

The evidence was so full and satisfactory, that there was no
room to doubt with respect to the agency of the prisoner in
causing the death of Hoffman, in the manner already detailed.
The counsel for the prisoner, in their anxiety to do all in
their power to save his life, endeavoured to show that he was
afflicted with that species of insanity called _monomania_. But
the evidence on this subject consisted chiefly of the proof of
_cases_ where _other_ individuals, whose minds appeared sound
upon subjects in general, were nevertheless deranged upon
particular subjects. The proof did not establish the fact that
the _prisoner_ was afflicted with that species of insanity.

In the course of the trial, the prisoner’s counsel, _without
objection on the part of the commonwealth_, introduced Mr.
O. S. Fowler, the celebrated phrenologist, as a witness. He
described the prisoner as of the lymphatic temperament; and
stated that persons of this temperament are more apt to be
deranged upon the animal passions than upon the intellectual
or moral faculties. He also, among other things, described the
prisoner’s phrenological developments, as they appeared to
him on an examination some days previously in the prisoner’s
cell. The organs of _Destructiveness_, _Secretiveness_, and
_Acquisitiveness_, were stated by Mr. Fowler to be immense, the
head measuring about 7¼ inches in diameter from ear to ear.

In giving the instructions to the jury, I stated to them
that if the evidence for the commonwealth was believed, it
established a case of murder of the first degree, unless
they thought proper to acquit entirely upon the ground of
_insanity_. The species of insanity relied upon by the
prisoner’s counsel, was that denominated _monomania_. This
exists where there is a _delusion_ on _one_ or a _small number_
of subjects, which no course of reasoning or force of evidence
can remove. Every man, of mature age, is _presumed_ to possess
a sound mind until the _contrary_ appears. To establish this
kind of insanity, _delusion_ must be shown to exist on one
subject, or on some small number of subjects. It was stated to
the jury, that the court could perceive no sufficient evidence
of _delusion_ or hallucination on any subject to establish the
existence of _monomania_; still, if the jury believed that
the prisoner was, at the time of committing the act charged,
“incapable of judging between right and wrong, and did not
know that he was committing an offence against the laws of
God and man,” it would be their duty to acquit; and if they
did so, it would be necessary to specify in their verdict the
ground of acquittal, in accordance with the act of assembly
of 13th June, 1836. But (continued the court) if any insanity
exists in this case, it is of that description denominated
MORAL INSANITY. This _arises from the existence of some of the
natural propensities in such violence, that it is impossible
not to yield to them_. It bears a striking resemblance to
_vice_, which is said to consist in “an undue excitement of
the passions and will, and in their irregular or crooked
actions leading to crime.” It is therefore to be received
with the utmost scrutiny. It is not _generally_ admitted in
legal tribunals as a species of insanity which relieves from
responsibility for crime, and it ought _never_ to be admitted
as a defence until it is shown that these propensities exist
in such violence as to subjugate the intellect, control the
will, and render it impossible for the party to do otherwise
than yield. _Where its existence is thus fully established,
this species of insanity, like every other, relieves from
accountability to human laws._ But this state of mind is not to
be presumed without evidence; nor does it usually occur without
some premonitory symptoms indicating its approach. On this
branch of the case the prisoner’s counsel have introduced the
testimony of Mr. O. S. Fowler, one of the most distinguished
phrenologists in the United States. The science of PHRENOLOGY,
or rather CRANIOSCOPY, has not yet been brought to such a
state of perfection and certainty as to be received and relied
upon in courts of justice. Small deviations in the scull from
its perfect form, not absolutely denoting insanity, appear to
be too uncertain to be relied upon in the administration of
justice, without endangering the rights of individuals and
the more important interests of the public. It is the opinion
of the court, that the testimony of Mr. Fowler proves no such
development of the animal propensities as would, of itself,
justify the belief of insanity in any of its forms.

The jury found the prisoner guilty of murder by lying in wait,
as set forth in the second count, and not guilty on the first
count. The verdict was delivered on the 4th of May, 1838,
and, on the same day, after overruling a motion in arrest of
judgment, the court adjudged that _the verdict on the second
count_ was a _finding of murder of the first degree_, and
pronounced the sentence of DEATH. On the 27th of July, 1838,
the prisoner was executed. He made a full confession. Before
and after the trial he was visited by clergymen, and appeared,
after the trial, much affected with his situation in reference
to a future world. Seemed truly penitent. Met death with great
firmness, even assisting the sheriff in some of the last sad
offices of the melancholy scene. His body was delivered to his
parents for burial. They are in low circumstances, but not in
absolute poverty. They have never shown as much attention to
education as people generally do, and their unhappy son was
said to be exceedingly illiterate.

Yours, very truly,

ELLIS LEWIS.

The above letters have been in our possession now for some months, and we had intended ere this, to have presented them in the pages of the Journal. But by this delay we have recently and very opportunely received, by a gentleman from Williamsport, the dying confession of William Miller. Whilst on the one hand we were surprised, in its perusal, to observe the striking coincidences between Mr. Fowler’s statements and the individual’s own confession of his private history, on the other we were shocked to read such a long series of youthful vice and crime. We doubt whether a similar instance can be found recorded in the annals of history. The facts in the case of this unfortunate young man involves many important principles in jurisprudence, education, morals, &c. &c.; but our present object is simply to present the _facts_ in the case.

The general facts connected with the murder are contained in the letter of Judge Lewis. But as his confession relates the particulars more in detail, preceded by a continued series of vicious and criminal conduct for fifteen years, showing the gradual process by which he became so hardened and cruel, we are induced to present the entire confession, notwithstanding its length. It is undoubtedly similar in some respects to that of many others much older than Miller, yet less experienced in crime, who end their days in the prison or on the gallows. Though young in years, he had emphatically grown old in the school of vice. We earnestly request every reader to notice the following facts in his melancholy narrative, which undoubtedly prepared the way for the number and enormity of his crimes.

_His mother died when he was quite young. He was subject to little, if any, parental restraint and government; received, comparatively, no education, nor moral and religious instruction; early gave way to his “evil passions;” was greatly encouraged by bad associates; was not restrained by the ties of family affection, nor influenced much by any relations to friends and acquaintances, either in regard to his business or his character; first commenced stealing little things, then lying; persevered constantly in such offences for nearly fifteen years, till he finally committed robbery and murder._ But it appears that he had planned several murders, and even that of his _own_ brother, before the execution of his last fatal deed.

Let every reader observe, that Miller grew up with his intellectual faculties _uneducated_, his moral sentiments _unenlightened_, his domestic feelings _but little exercised_, and his selfish propensities and sentiments _unrestrained_. We need not say, that these facts involve important principles in the true physiology of the brain and the science of mind.

The facts in the confession should also be compared with the statements of Mr. Fowler’s letter. It is due to state, that Mr. F. has never seen this confession, nor the letter of Judge Lewis—that he knows nothing of the contents of either, and there is no reason to doubt his statement concerning his knowledge of Miller’s _real_ character. A phrenologist will readily perceive that, from the data first taken by Mr. F., even a darker portrait might have been drawn on strict scientific principles, than what Mr. F.’s letter presents. We have italicised some parts of the confession which strikingly accord with the phrenological descriptions.

[3] This case affords an additional confirmation of the truth
of a physiological hypothesis, to which I have been led by
numerous observations, and which, if true, is of considerable
importance: viz. that the _nervous_ and _nervous bilious_
temperaments favour the manifestation of the _moral_ and
_intellectual_ faculties, the _sanguine_ and _lymphatic_, that
of the organs located in the basilar and posterior region of
the brain. I have never found, within the walls of a prison, a
purely _nervous_ or _nervous bilious_ temperament.

THE CONFESSION OF WILLIAM MILLER,

_Who was convicted of the murder of Solomon Hoffman, and executed at Williamsport, Lycoming county, Penn., on the 27th of July, 1838; made in the presence of the sheriff and attending ministers, June 7, 1838._

I was born in York county, in the state of Pennsylvania, A. D. 1815. My mother died when I was eleven years of age. My _natural disposition_, from my _earliest infancy, was grossly depraved. I seemed fatally bent on mischief_, and had a _relish_ for _dark and secret crime_; and never having received any religious education or instruction, (except from occasionally hearing the gospel preached,) my _evil passions_ and _malice_ of my nature grew with my growth, and strengthened with my years. Before my imprisonment, I had not learned any principles of religion or precepts of morality, by which I could discover the full deformity of my character, or the deep wickedness of my conduct. The after survey of my acts and conduct, and the _review of my crimes, were scarcely ever attended, with a feeling of regret. I seemed too spell bound, in my evil to relent_; and _my conduct so accorded with my evil passions that reflection was without remorse._ I was greatly addicted to _theft_. But I stole not through want so much as through the _gratification of my wicked disposition_. _This disposition_ was carried into action first when I was _nine years_ of age. I then stole an half dollar from my father, and gave it to my mother. I told her I had found it. She believed me, and bought a handkerchief for me with it.

Some time after the death of my mother, my father and family removed from York county to Lycoming county, and resided in the Block-house settlement. I lived with the family there till I attained the age of nineteen years.

During my stay at the Block-house settlement, previously to learning a trade, I _stole a pocket knife_ while at a religious meeting, held at the house of Mr. Knodle. I then became more bold, and having discovered where Samuel Hartman kept his money, I _attempted to rob_ him, by breaking into his drawer; but in that I did not succeed. Soon after this, I was living a short time in the family of Mrs. Bastian, who then, and always, treated me with great kindness. I _stole_ from her twenty-five cents.

I next went to the borough of York, for the purpose of acquiring a trade, and became an apprentice to Joseph Spangler, a cabinet maker of that place, with whom I continued two years. At York I fell into very bad company. I found there were others in the world, nearly, if not quite as bad as myself; and wickedness is greatly encouraged with countenance and company. _We were frequently engaged in robbing orchards, stealing apples, peaches_, &c.

The first winter I lived at York, I _stole_ between four and five dollars from Mr. Spangler. I took it out of a small chest I found in his bed room. One of my shop-mates was blamed for it, but I now declare him innocent of the crime.

I _frequently stole segars and tobacco_ from the store of George Small, in York, and gave them to my associates, who had previously requested me to do so.

After my apprenticeship was ended, I was employed as cabinet maker for a short time, by John Beck, in York. I _stole_ from him, at different times, such articles as I needed to finish some furniture I was making for myself, such as paints, varnish, &c. I was strongly suspected for this; _but I lied them out of it_, and contended most strenuously that I had _bought_ all the articles I used.

Shortly after this, I lived a short time with Jacob Lehr, in Freystown, near York. While there, a harvest frolic was held at Mrs. Smithmoyer’s. I knew that all of Daniel Louck’s family would be at the frolic; consequently, I went to his house, broke in through one of the windows, opened a desk with a key of my own, and _took out a pocket book_, as I then supposed, full of money. I then left the house as I entered it; and on my way home through the fields, I examined the pocket book, and found that it contained nothing but papers which I could not read. I threw the pocket book and papers into some bushes that grew in a field belonging to Mr. Diehl. All the money I got on that occasion was about one dollar and fifty cents in silver. I never heard that I was suspected of this theft.

About the same time of the above occurrence, I was working in harvest at Mr. Diehl’s, and I then _stole two five dollar bank notes_, which I saw lying on the porch of their house; I was never suspected for this, and never heard any enquiry made about it.

Shortly after this happened, I went again to Daniel Louck’s, and found that all the family were from home except three of the women. After staying a short time, I lay down in the hall of the house, as it were, for the purpose of resting. After lying a short time, I discovered that the ladies had all gone out to take a walk in the garden. I then arose, and went to the same desk I had opened before. I also applied the key I had formerly used, opened the desk, and _took out a pocket book containing fifty dollars in bank notes_. Even this created no suspicion against me, that I know of. I also frequented the house of Mrs. Smithmoyer, in that neighbourhood, and _stole from her cakes, confectionaries_, and occasionally some _small sums of money_.

I returned in 183- to the Block-house settlement; _my evil propensities_ increasing by former successful indulgence, and by being able to avoid suspicion, I commenced the cabinet making business for myself, at the house of Mrs. Bastian, with whom I had lived a short time before I went to York to acquire a trade. Mrs. Bastian’s residence is situated in the northern part of Lycoming county, at the foot of Laurel Hill, on the post road from Williamsport to Wellsborough. The country immediately around is composed of high and broken mountains, covered with thick and dark forests. The road often for great lengths without a house, and not very frequently traveled—generally as lonely as the pathway of a wilderness. I did not at first settle there for the purposes for which I afterwards saw it possessed so many advantages. But it very soon occurred to me, that I had chosen an excellent situation for _robbery_, _theft_, and _murder_, _on which my mind was now fully bent_.

I re-commenced my unfortunate career at the Block-house, by _first stealing_ from Mrs. Bastian fifteen dollars, and frequently afterwards, such sums as I needed, to the amount of about five dollars more. I had the confidence of the family, and free access to every part of the house, which greatly facilitated my thefts. I was not suspected of these crimes until just before my last arrest, when some money was accidentally found in my pocket which was identified as a part of the money that had been taken. This induced them to suspect me strongly, but _I denied it with great firmness and constancy to the last_.

Some time in the fall of 1837, a drover (whose name I do not know) passing through the settlement, stopped for a short time at Mrs. Bastian’s house. At first sight, I supposed him to have _a large amount of money, and immediately determined to murder him_. For this purpose, before he could have time to pursue his journey, I hastened to the woods with an axe, and cut a large club, which I thought more suitable for the purpose, it being longer and more easily handled than the axe, and yet sufficiently large for the fatal execution. I then concealed myself close by the road he would pass, and not far from the scene of my last dread crime. I then waited, planning the manner of my attack. I expected he would be riding slowly and listlessly along, that I could spring upon him by surprise, knock him from his horse, and despatch him before he could make resistance. The drover was a large man and had an excellent horse. When I saw him coming, contrary to my expectation, he was riding rapidly, and consequently I could not have a good opportunity to aim a fatal blow. I then reflected that if I should miss him, or wound him slightly, he would be too strong for me, and I should be detected, and so I let him pass. But _I felt disappointed, and wished very much to kill him_, and if I thought I could have succeeded, would certainly have murdered him. I saw him afterwards pass through the settlement again, but I made no further attempt upon his life.

Not long after the failure of my design against the drover, Michael Knipe, a blacksmith, was traveling from the Block-house towards Lycoming creek, and called at Mrs. Bastian’s. He had previously _incurred my ill-will_, and I felt some _revengeful feelings towards him_. I learned also that he had _some money_. I then _determined to murder him, with the double motive of wreaking my vengeance and getting his money_. For this purpose I proposed accompanying him on his way. We traveled amicably together until we came to the Six Mile Spring. There _pretending_ that I was tired, and needed a staff to walk with, I went into the woods and cut a club, with which, at a proper place, I intended to despatch my fellow-traveler. But as we traveled on, still conversing amicably together, my murderous feelings began to subside a little, and I became more irresolute, until having passed the most appropriate places for so dark a deed, I finally gave over murdering him; and so we traveled, as far as I went with him, without any thing actually occurring to show that we were not the best friends.

The awful murder for which I am shortly to suffer the just penalty of the law, occurred on Thursday, the first day of February, 1838. Solomon Hoffman, a foot pedler, called at Mrs. Bastian’s the day previous to the murder, on his way to Lycoming creek. At that time I was particularly ill-tempered, on account of spoiling some furniture I was making. My shop stood near Mrs. Bastian’s house. The same afternoon that Hoffman arrived, I had occasion to go into the house, and saw him with his pack open, offering his goods for sale to the family. He asked me if I would buy any thing. I told him I could not. I then returned to my shop, and continued to work till supper time. I took my supper in company with Hoffman; and during supper it occurred to me _to rob him_, and I resolved to do so the next day. After supper we conversed a while in the bar-room, and then he accompanied me to my shop.

Hoffman continued at my shop for some time, and we conversed principally about my trade; I told him I could make sales enough, but could get no cash. He returned to the house again; I continued to work till late, and then went to the house also. We then soon retired; Hoffman and I slept in the same room. As I lay in bed, I thought of the difficulty of highway robbery escaping detection, and came to the conclusion that I had better attempt _to kill him_, although I had failed in two previous attempts. I did not sleep well, thinking about it; _I felt no fear or horror of the crime_, but I did not know how I could accomplish it. _I woke up frequently during the night and thought on the subject, and my disposition to murder him still grew stronger_, and in the morning I was fully resolved, if I could get an opportunity at all, I would kill him. I got up early in the morning, and Hoffman rose shortly after. I then got my axe and whet it. He asked me what I would do with the axe. I told him I was going to the woods to chop. He then asked me again if I would not buy some goods from him. On asking me this question, a plan instantly occurred to me of luring him into the woods and executing my fell purpose. So I told him I would not buy any goods at Bastian’s house, and gave him as a reason for not buying there, that I had borrowed some money from Bastian’s, that I had not repaid, and therefore did not wish them to know that I had any; but I told him, if it was not too cold for him to come to me in the woods where I would be chopping, I would buy from him there. Hoffman replied to this, that he would go on in the stage that day. I answered he might if he pleased. He then changed his determination, and he was only going to Blooming-grove, and would walk and stop with me where I was chopping.

Upon his saying this, I designated where on the road he would find me, and told him he could hear me chopping from that place, and so find precisely where I was; and having said this, I went off immediately towards the woods. After proceeding a short distance, I overtook William Folkerson, of the Block-house settlement, driving a sled. He had started from Bastian’s a short time before I did. He asked me what I was going to do. I told him I was going to cut back-logs. We had no other conversation. This was the man whom I at first blamed with the murder, but who, I now solemnly declare, as I shall answer to God, is entirely innocent of it. And I sincerely hope he will forgive me for making this most false and dreadful charge. After Mr. Folkerson passed on, I went into the woods at the appointed place, and hunted round, but could find no trees to suit me. I then went down into the road expecting Hoffman. Then went back into the woods again, and found trees to suit. I cut one down, and was going to the second, when Hoffman came to me. He first addressed me, saying it is cold. I replied, tolerable. He then placed his pack on the log I had cut, opened his goods and handed them out. I walked up to him with my axe in my hand, and placed it down by the stump of the tree. I then selected from his goods a pair of gloves and a handkerchief, and told him I would take these. Then I suddenly became a little irresolute, and had almost told him I had no money; but in an instant _I again resolved_ “_kill him I will_.” He then stood bending down looking at his goods. I stood partly behind him, and taking up the axe, gave him a hard blow with the pole on the back part of the head. He fell dead on his side the first blow. _I stood and looked at him for a moment, and then gave him three or four more blows on the back and side of the head._

Then for a moment I looked up to heaven, and cried three times tolerably loud, Lord Jesus! what have I done!! I then took up Hoffman, and carried him a short distance and threw him behind a hemlock log. I was not satisfied with this, and took him up again and carried him further, and then removed him, and covered him in the place at which he was found. I tried to bury him, but could not succeed well, the ground was too hard. I intended, as soon as I could, to remove him from that and bury him securely. On the same day I hid his pack, only taking out a few articles for the present. I found on his person about one hundred dollars in money, and some other small articles, which I took then. The week after the murder, I went to Williamsport and bought some goods from Mr. Updegraff, which I paid for, or nearly all, with Hoffman’s money. I also, at the same time, bought some articles from Dr. Power, and paid him in the same way, and at the same time _stole from him one dollar in money, and several chisels of different kinds_. When I returned, Bastians asked me where I got the goods. _I told them my father had given me money, and I also had bought goods on trust. In short, I stole and robbed every chance I could get, from my cradle to the day of my imprisonment._

I wish now further to declare, that no false evidence was delivered against me at my trial.

I am sincerely thankful to the officers of justice, ministers, and counsel, for their uniform kindness to me.

I now pray the world to forgive me the many injuries I have done, as I hope I will freely forgive all who have injured me.

APPENDIX.

TAKEN JUNE 30, 1838.

Before my emigration to York, when the family were all on the farm together, at a certain time which I cannot now recollect, I was then about fourteen years old, and for the _first time was tempted to murder_. In the absence of my father, my brother Michael had the management of his father’s affairs, and the government of us children given to him. My brother was very strict with us and tried to make us do what was right, and on failing to do so, he would chastise us, _which created a hatred in my breast towards him, and I determined in my own mind to destroy him. To carry out this determination, I gathered vegetable poison from trees, mixed it in soup, and intended fully to give it to him, and did so._ My brother saw something in his soup that did not please him, took up his plate, went to the door, and threw it out, which saved him. I do now sincerely pray Almighty God to forgive me, and I humbly pray my brother to forgive me for attempting to make him suffer so awful a death. After my return from York, while living at Bastian’s, I went into the Block-house settlement on some business which I do not now recollect; on my way home, after doing my business, I stopped a while at John Howard’s barn, looking at some hands engaged in threshing with a machine. There came a stranger riding by—_it immediately occurred to me that I might follow and murder him, if he was not a methodist preacher_. I did follow him, and cut a good club to put my designs into execution. He took the new road, I took the old one, and intended to overtake him at the place where the two roads met; but when I came to the place where I expected to meet him, luckily for himself, he got past before I reached the place, and I never saw him more. The reason why I intended not to kill him if he was a preacher, was, _that clergymen never have money, and are considered poor game_. This was in the fall of the year.

After this, in the winter, I was in at Messrs. Benners’ store, in the Block-house settlement, and introduced some conversation with respect to some mahogany that I wanted to make some bureaus, and asked Elias Benner when he expected to go to Philadelphia. He told me he could not say to a certainty, but thought some time in the spring. I then asked him if he would let me know when he did go, that I would go as far as Williamsport, and there make arrangements with him to buy mahogany and other materials I wanted. _This plan was laid by me to murder him on the way, as I knew he would have money_; but, fortunately for himself, ere the time arrived, I committed the awful deed for which I must soon suffer, and the prison became my home, or he too might now be in eternity.

Not long after this, _I had also intended to murder David Raker, for this reason_; in a conversation with him at his house, he told me he was _going to collect money_; he did go, called at my shop—we had some conversation, which I do not now recollect; but while there, _I forgot this determination, why or wherefore I cannot say, but sure I am it was no goodness in me_. I also _stole_ from Jacob Bastian, in the Block-house settlement, screws and nails, as I had opportunity when at work there. I also _intended robbing my brother Daniel’s chest_ in Blooming-grove, cannot say whether I did or did not. The last winter I worked at York, _I intended robbing_ Dr. Ness, went up stairs, rummaged his bureau, &c. but found no money.

I also _went to rob my cousin, Daniel Seib_, in York; he told me he had $400 in his chest; I went to the chest, opened and searched for the money, but found none, and was much disappointed.

I also _intended robbing_ James Dinkle’s chest, but could not get it open. James Dinkle is a mulatto, and then lived with Daniel Louck, at Diehl’s mill, near York. About a month before I left my master, Mr. Spangler, I _stole_ from him a hammer and a two foot rule, which I brought to the Block-house with me. I also _robbed_ my shop-mate, John Smith, of about fifty cents, which he left in the garden house and forgot. Soon as he came out I went in, found it, put it in my pocket. He missed it, soon went back, and it was gone. Soon as he returned he charged me with it; _I lied him out of it_; he then gave me clear, and blamed a black boy belonging to Mr. Kelly.

The first harvest, whilst reaping for Jacob Kindig, on Mr. Longenecker’s farm, in the evening _I stole_ a sickle out of the field, whom it belonged to I do not know. I also _stole_ a board from Daniel Wiser, in York, to make myself a chest.

I also _stole_ from William Stine’s store, mint-sticks, and attempted to rob his money drawer, but found it locked.

Taken June 30, 1838, before Jacob Grafius, Reverends J. F. Abele and G. Schulze, as substantially correct, and whereunto I have subscribed my name or mark in their presence.

Witnesses present:

JACOB GRAFIUS,
G. SCHULZE,
JOHN F. ABELE.

X
WILLIAM MILLER.
his mark.

ARTICLE VI.

THE HEADS OF OUR GREAT MEN.[4]

—— —— ——“And his pure brain,
Which some suppose the soul’s frail dwelling-house.”

_Shakspeare._