A PHRENOLOGICAL EVENING.
The experience I am about to chronicle occurred when the Beecher-Tilton
scandal was at its height; and I was attracted by the somewhat ambiguous
title "Burns upon Beecher."
Mr. James Burns, the spirited proprietor of the Progressive Library,
Southampton Row, having devoted himself to the study of phrenology, has
for some time past held a series of craniological séances on Tuesday
evenings, at which he "takes off" the head of some well-known person, or
your own, if you like, whether you are well-known or born to blush
unseen, not in the way of physical decapitation, but by the method of
phrenological diagnosis. I greatly regretted having, on a previous
occasion, missed the analysis of Dr. Kenealy's cerebral developments. I
believe the Claimant himself was once the object of Mr. Burns' remarks;
but when Mr. Beecher's cranium was laid down for dissection at the
height of the Beecher-Tilton sensation, I could resist no longer, but,
despite all obstacles, repaired to the Institute of Progress.
About a score of people were gathered in that first-floor front where I
had seen so many strange things. Of these persons some formed the
regular phrenological class conducted there weekly by Mr. Burns. The
others were, generally speaking, of the ordinary lecture-audience type.
One stout lady occupied an easy-chair in a corner, and slept from first
to last.
The first part of the lecture was a little discursive, I fancy for my
especial benefit, and summarized Mr. Burns' system, which is to a great
extent original. Beginning by a disavowal of all dogmas, he began by
advancing what was to me the entirely novel doctrine, that the brain was
not the sole organ of the mind, but that the whole organism of man had
to be taken into account in the diagnosis of character, since the entire
body was permeated with the mind. The bones, fluids, and viscera were
all related to mental phenomena. The lecturer even questioned whether
the science he promulgated was properly termed phrenology. It certainly
did not answer to the conventional idea of that craft. Referring to a
calico diagram which was pinned to the curtains of the first-floor
front, and at which he pointed with a walking-stick, Mr. Burns notified
four divisions of the animal frame--1, the vital organs; 2, the
mechanical; 3, the nervous (which in the lower orders were ganglionic
only); 4, the cerebral apparatus. He defended the animal powers from the
debased idea usually attached to them, and pointed out their close
connexion with the spirit, nearer to which they were placed than any
portion of the economy.
He then proceeded to apply his preliminary remarks to preachers in
general. Theodore Parker, for instance, was a man of spare body and
large brain. He was surrounded by intellectual people, and his disciples
were quite sui generis. On the other hand, Spurgeon was a man of strong
animal and perceptive powers, and so able to send the Walworth
shopkeepers into ecstasies. His ganglions were big, as was the case in
all great preachers. Emotion, he said, was more a matter of bowels than
of brain. The ganglionic power carried the brain; but there were, of
course, combinations of all grades.
In the case of Henry Ward Beecher, two of whose photographs he held in
his hand, he dwelt on the disadvantage of having only the shadow instead
of the substance of his head to deal with. Here, he said, we had all the
elements on a large scale. The brain, thoracic system, osseous
structure, and abdominal development were all in excess. The face was,
as it were, the picture of all. Henry Ward Beecher was emphatically a
large man. The blood was positive; the circulation good. The digestion
was perfect, and the man enjoyed good food. Especially the length from
the ear to the front of the eyebrows denoted intellectual grasp. There
was not much will power. Whatever he had done (and Mr. Burns
emphatically disclaimed passing any judgment on the "scandal") he had
not done of determination, but had rather "slid into it." He was no
planner. He gathered people round him by the "solar" force of his mind.
If he had been a designing man--if largely developed behind the ears--he
would have gone to work in a different way. There was good development
in the intellectual, sympathetic, and emotional part of his nature; and
this combination made him a popular preacher. There was more than mere
animal magnetism needed to account for this; there was intellectual
power, but not much firmness or conscientiousness. If he were present,
he would probably acknowledge that something had led him on to do
whatever he had done in spite of himself. What was very peculiar in the
man was his youthfulness. He had been before the world for forty years.
Mr. Fowler, the phrenologist, of Ludgate Circus, had been a fellow
student of Beecher, and had measured his head, which he ascertained to
have grown an inch in ten years. Beecher was essentially a growing
man--growing like a boy. The ganglionic power was that which kept people
always growing, and was the great means of their getting a hold over
other people.
Mr. Burns then passed in review the three portraits of Beecher, Tilton,
and Mrs. Tilton respectively, in the _Pictorial World_. Mrs. Tilton he
described as a negative person, inclined to be hysterical and
"clinging." There was in her a high type of brain, morally,
intellectually, and spiritually. Still the brain, he said, did not make
us good or bad. Again repudiating all judgment as to the scandal, he
dwelt upon the close social relationships between Beecher and Mrs.
Tilton, and recurred to the strong vital influence of the former,
comparing it to that of Brigham Young upon his "spiritual affinities."
In all probability, taking into account the different natures of Beecher
and Mrs. Tilton, whatever had occurred "the people couldn't help
themselves."
Then as to Theodore Tilton. Mr. Burns had read the _Golden Age_, and
pronounced it a smart publication. There was, however, in Tilton a want
of ganglionic power; he was all brain. He was a man who might be read,
but he could not lecture or preach. His was a higher mind than
Beecher's, but not one that would command much human sympathy.
Suppose Mrs. Tilton were not the wife of either, her relations to each
might be conscientious, but still violate the laws of monogamic life.
The influence of Beecher over her would be ganglionic as well as
intellectual; that of Tilton purely intellectual: when lo, a gust of
ganglionic power would supervene on the latter, and carry all before it.
Concluding his analysis of Mr. Beecher thus, Mr. Burns discovered that
he had two clerics among his audience, and asked us--for I was one of
them--if we would be examined. I readily consented, and handed my notes
to Miss Chandos (the young lady mesmerist, whose séance I reported a
few pages back) to report progress. She, therefore, is responsible for
the diagnosis that follows.
Handling me from head to foot, much as a fancier does a prize ox at
Smithfield, Mr. Burns found the life power good, and the muscles well
nourished, the working faculties being in a high state of activity. The
head--I blushed to hear--measured one inch beyond the average of a man
of my size, and the cerebral faculties were harmoniously organized. I
had large perceptive powers; and my human nature (wherever that may be
located) was full, as was also firmness. The thinking sphere was good. I
should have made, Mr. Burns informed me, a good sculptor or artist.
Omitting one or two complimentary remarks which Miss Chandos has
faithfully, if not flatteringly, reported, and the enunciation of which
quite confused me as I sat the centre and cynosure of that wondering
group, I was glad to learn that I was an open man, though possessed of
sufficient caution and not defective in moral courage. In fact "pluck"
was large. I really wished Mr. Burns would relieve me by finding some
bad bumps; but no--the worst he could say of me was that I was restless.
What chiefly seemed to strike him, though, were my vital powers, and he
really covered me with confusion when he began to calculate my Beecher
powers on a possible Mrs. Tilton. However, he toned down this remark by
noticing that my domestic faculties were well developed. My faith and
hope were small. I was a "doubting" man. The positive and negative were
well blent in me, and I was also "mediumistic."
The diagnosis of two ladies concluded the evening's exercises, but
neither of these personages displayed any very remarkable traits; Mr.
Burns declaring he felt some difficulty in discovering the bumps under
the "back hair."