Chapter I

“The form and posture of the human body, and its various
organs of perception, have an obvious reference to man’s
rational nature; and are beautifully fitted to encourage
and facilitate his intellectual improvement.”—DUGALD
STEWART, _Moral Philosophy_.

THE BRAIN THE ORGAN OF MIND.

From the time of Thales and Pythagoras to our own day the opinions of metaphysicians have been divided with respect to the mode in which ideas take their origin. Some, with Descartes and Leibnitz, have contended that the faculties of the mind are innate—that is, that they originate solely from within; while others, with Locke and Condillac, affirm that they are acquired, and in all cases derived, from impressions received through the medium of the senses,—“Nihil est in intellectu quod non prius fuerit in sensu.”

However it may be with respect to this controverted point, whether ideas originate from without or from within, it is at least certain that the manifestations of the mind, far from being independent of, are, on the contrary, closely linked and connected with, the conditions of matter. Hippocrates, when sent for by the Abderites to cure Democritus of his supposed madness, found him busily engaged in dissecting the brains of animals for the purpose of ascertaining the organs and causes of thought. That the brain is the organ through which the manifestations of mind are made known to us, was therefore suspected by Democritus; and the accumulated experience of centuries has rendered that a certainty which with him was but a mere conjecture. In the language of an eloquent modern writer, “Where shall we find proofs of the mind’s independence of the bodily structure,—of that mind which, like the corporeal frame, is infantile in the child, manly in the adult, sick and debilitated in disease, frenzied or melancholy in the madman, enfeebled in the decline of life, doting in decrepitude, and annihilated by death?”

MIND AND OUTWARD FORM IN HARMONY.

Admitting, then, that the brain is the organ of mind—the instrument by which we are rendered cognisant of our own mental operations and conceptions—it must be evident that, for the purpose of making them known to others, of carrying them into effect, certain other parts become necessary, the conception requiring instruments for its execution. This important duty is intrusted to the care of the senses, and for this reason they have been correctly termed the hand-maidens of the intellect, as it is through their agency that the brain receives and transmits impressions. Hence the manifestations of mind are indicated and expressed by the outward form; for the senses can act only through the medium of physical organs, and with these latter the active phenomena of life must necessarily be in strict accordance. Thus, from the external configuration of the body, or of some of its parts, we can legitimately draw conclusions respecting the degree and kind of mental power. Let us examine this proposition a little more in detail. In his _Instauratio Magna_, Bacon relates that “when he was a young man at Poictiers in France, he conversed familiarly with a certain Frenchman, a witty young man, but something talkative, who afterwards grew to be a very eminent man. He was wont to inveigh against the manners of old men, and would say, that if their minds could be seen as their bodies are, they would appear no less deformed; he would also maintain that the vices of old men’s minds have some correspondence and were parallel to the putrefaction of their bodies. For the dryness of their skin, he would bring in impudence; for the hardness of their bowels, unmercifulness; for the lippitude of their eyes, an evil eye and envy; for the casting down of their eyes and bowing their bodies toward the earth, atheism (for, saith he, they look no more up to heaven as they were wont); for the trembling of their members, irresolution of their decrees and light inconstancy; for the bending of their fingers, as it were to catch, rapacity and covetousness; for the buckling of their knees, fearfulness; for their wrinkles, craftiness and obliquity.”

Now, without hoping to attain to the nice discrimination of this ingenious young gentleman, we shall attempt to elucidate a few general facts connected with this part of our subject.

With that spirit of observation for which they were so eminently remarkable, the ancients had long since remarked the constant connexion of certain peculiarities of outward form with particular modes of thinking—a correspondence between the physical and mental condition. It was in accordance with this view that Galen founded his celebrated doctrine of temperaments. His distinction of the sanguine, phlegmatic, choleric, and melancholic temperaments, was based upon the notion of the Greek philosophers, that there were four primary constituents of the human body corresponding to the four supposed elements of nature, and that the presence of the one or the other of these elements in excess occasioned the production of the different temperaments. According to the definition of the able physiologist Müller, the temperaments are peculiar, permanent conditions, or modes of mutual reaction of the mind and organism, and they are chiefly dependent on the relation which subsists between the strivings or emotions of the mind and the excitable structure of the body. Even if we may be disposed to contend that they are not absolutely _dependent_ on any particular constitution of the body, it must still be conceded that they are at least _associated_ with certain peculiarities of outward organisation, by which they may be readily recognised; so that the physical structure, the mental tendency, and the character of ideas, are always intimately connected. Thus persons of a sanguine or sensitive temperament are, for the most part, of moderate stature and _embonpoint_, with a smiling florid countenance, and light or chestnut hair. Their ideas, like their physiognomy, are all _couleur de rose_. Endowed with great excitability, they are easily moved; but impressions are not durable, giving place quickly to other and newer emotions. Hence their life is made up of transitions—now grave, now gay; now happy, now miserable: their feelings are perpetually changing, and impressions made upon their mobile minds become soon obliterated by some fresh object of attention.

The phlegmatic, or elementary temperament, is characterised by a persistence during adult existence of the physical structure proper to early life. The body is loaded with cellular tissue and fat; the muscles are large, but soft, and with indistinct outlines; the countenance is pale; the physiognomy but little marked, and the features not sharply defined. Such persons are unexcitable, their sensations are dull, and the modes of reaction which they determine slow and apathetic; their ideas are clear, but they possess neither the quickness of conception and imagination of persons of the sanguine, nor the energy of action and strong passions of those of the choleric temperament. They love repose, and excel in occupations which demand patience and attention, of which they are possessed in a remarkable degree.

In individuals of the choleric, or motive temperament, the bony frame-work of the body is strong and much developed; the articulations are large and prominent; the muscles firm, with but little cellular tissue and fat; the physiognomy decided, with sharply-chiselled features. Such individuals are remarkable for promptitude and energy of action; impetuous, passionate, and endowed with great determination, opposition only increases their endurance, and excites a proportionate effort to conquer it. In nature these temperaments are not frequently encountered pure and free from admixture, but mostly more or less mixed the one with the other. That must be held to be the most perfect temperament in which they are all blended in such proportions that neither is in excess; “in which moderate excitability is combined with a due amount of energy of action; in which imagination is tempered by reason, and the ideas and conceptions are regulated by judgment, and rectified by reflection.” Impressions thus do not react upon all in the same manner. In some they are like figures traced upon the sand of the sea-shore, which are obliterated by the first advancing wave; they pass away together with the ideas to which they give rise, without leaving any, even the slightest evidence, of their existence. In others they are as characters deeply graven upon metal; arousing the attention with an irresistible force, they enchain and captivate the faculties, ceasing but to leave behind them a powerful and lasting impression upon the mind.

EFFECTS OF AGE, SEX, CLIMATE, ETC. UPON MIND.

By age, sex, locality, climate, and regimen the mental operations are likewise powerfully influenced. By locality and climate we do not mean air and temperature merely, but the sum total of all influences, whether physical or moral, by which in every place we are surrounded. The bodily structure is undoubtedly and materially influenced by climate. Of this the modern Hungarians afford a most convincing proof—a race of people of a fine physical conformation, and yet, as their language and traditions attest, derived from the same stock as the barbarous, deformed Ostiaks inhabiting the Uralian Chain, to whom, as we learn from history, they bore no slight resemblance, on their arrival in the countries in which they are at present located. Climate may thus affect the mind in two ways, by modifying the structure of the body, and by the more direct action which it exerts upon the mind itself; and it is to these two causes that we must ascribe the differences in the form and habits, the government and laws, the superstitions and literature, of northern and southern nations.

To differences and modifications of structure constantly correspond differences and modifications in ideas and passions. The physical form and intellectual qualities are closely and mutually connected. Thus, one individual may excel another in a given pursuit, this excellence resulting rather from a peculiar aptitude for, than from a particular devotion to, its cultivation.

This aptitude, in many cases at least, is to be mainly referred to some peculiarity of structure in one or more of the organs of the senses; it is original, and without the particular organic conformation could never have been acquired by centuries of practice and experience.

BODILY SUFFERING DEPENDENT UPON ORGANISATION OF NERVOUS SYSTEM.

To differences in the degree of sensibility of the nervous system, together with the varying amount of the peripheral ramifications distributed to the external surface, must be ascribed the different amount of suffering experienced upon the application of inordinate stimuli to the nerves. The will is undoubtedly capable of exerting very great control over the manifestations of feeling called forth by such painful impressions upon sentient nerves. Of this Roman history affords us many notable examples. But it seems probable that the Romans were not endowed with a nervous system so delicately organised as that of the more highly civilised Greeks; witness the general structure of their language and their comparative inferiority in the fine arts. Neither heroism, nor philosophy, nor even religion, can prevent some organisations from exhibiting manifestations of great pain from impressions upon nerves, which in others would occasion but a moderate amount of suffering; a physical necessity compels them to manifest evidences of intense feeling; and thus, by a rude shock inflicted upon the nervous system, a mathematician may be at once recalled from the contemplation of other spheres, or a metaphysician from the most sublime speculations on the nature and essence of the Deity.

In the lowest grades of society the general nervous sensibility is mostly obtuse; in the highest, on the contrary, it is frequently morbidly acute: in the one case the mental manifestations are dull and obscure; in the other they may be brilliant, but are frequently wanting in strength and energy.

In his treatise on tropical diseases, Dr. Mosely observes, that “Negroes are void of sensibility to a surprising degree. They are not subject to nervous diseases. They sleep soundly in every disease, nor does any mental disturbance ever keep them awake. They bear chirurgical operations much better than white people; and what would be the cause of insupportable pain to a white man, a Negro would almost disregard. I have amputated the legs of many Negroes, who have held the upper part of the limb themselves.”