the brain. If, moreover, each mode of action, in which a faculty is capable of manifesting itself-such for instance as perception, memory, or desire-were an inherent quality of the mind, and belonged essentially to a particular organ, the same as the faculty of individuality, benevolence, and colour, it is quite certain we should have as many different kinds of perception, memory, and desire, as there are things to be perceived, remembered, and desired. Some of the early philosophers, not having had any idea of special faculties, classed under two heads, understanding and will, such faculties as they thought belonged to mind. To these faculties, which they erroneously deemed essential, they assigned the power of acting under such various modifications as to include the several kinds of manifestations which the special or innate faculties are alone capable of producing. The common qualities of understanding, will, imagination, and judgment, as viewed by them, are wrong. The meaning of the terms, which are in general use, the world fully comprehends, and every useful purpose is served; but to the mentalist it is necessary to know what is primary and what is secondary, which is cause and which is effect: and this end the science of phrenology is particularly well calculated to answer. The different opinions entertained by different persons of the same thing, are attributable to the minds of those persons being differently modified. There would not, however, be any modifications if the brains of those persons were constituted alike, and every circumstance operating on these minds was the same. The different modifications result from different combinations; and the various modifications of the same faculty in different persons, is owing to difference of temperament, constitution of the organ, and other causes too numerous to

mention. Allowing the mind to be influenced by the organization, and these several other causes, we cannot wonder at the great diversities of talent, or at the different modifications of the mental faculties which are exhibited in the world.

COLLOQUY V.

SINCE my last interview with the Professor, I had taken several rambles in the hope of meeting him by the way. These were in the most secluded spots; but he deigned not to discover himself to me. Often, I feared, he had resolved no longer to hold any converse with one so little calculated to enter into the workings of his exalted understanding-one so far estranged from that heavenly temperament of mind which he was accustomed to enjoy. I trembled to think of this as a cause of his neglect; for where, if so, was my hope of his renewing our acquaintance? I could not but think his object laudable, and that his intentions were to lead my thoughts and desires into an undefiled channel, where virtue and philosophy flow in uninterrupted purity. But why he had withheld his presence from me so long I could ill define. It was, perhaps, that my mind had not been in a proper mood to receive him. As he had a near connexion with Heaven, he was of course prompted by holy desires, and under the guidance of a holy Being. Thus reflecting, it was a natural question what had been the frame of my mind lately? I taxed my thoughts, and reviewed the tone of my affections; this self-examination shewed me they had been unusually lax, vain, and idle. Whence, then, was to be expected so high a boon as the

conversation, in personâ, of an inhabitant of the invisible world-one of such superior mental acquisitions and endowments as my visitor had evidenced during his occasional short abodes on this earth?

This retrospect satisfied me that I had not deserved so great a privilege, and it required but little philosophy to persuade myself that this was the chief reason iny superhuman, or supernatural friend had been so sparing of his visits. Worldly events often occur, as blessings in disguise, to give the mind fresh and more virtuous inclinations: previously to this effect, they so assail man as to disturb his repose; watchful and anxious nights succeed days of perturbation and excitement. He knows not what it is to be at ease. There is an evil tormentor constantly haunting him; and whence does it come?— from the world with its subtile and engrossing vanities. It is from external causes that his peace is broken, from pride, and envy, and covetousness. These raise him enemies who use every scheme and every art to convey to his neighbours and friends unfavourable and unfair impressions of his character. The fawning of the lamb, the obsequiousness of the hypocrite, are too often exchanged for backbitings and revilings. How prominently do such ignoble assailants stand forward to cut short the comforts, and taint the best affections of man! To be unmoved by them is wisdom; but where is stoicism enough in any philosopher to check their growth, and feel not, physically or morally, the bitter effects they infuse? Whence proceeds the unhappiness of man more directly than from qualities of this kind, which exercise unbounded sway over the whole economy of human nature, blighting its prosperity, chilling the glow of amity, and separating man from man? Fearful and destructive is their authority. Draw them forth in all their nakedness

as they exist in each man, and in what hideous deformity would they not appear !-monsters without a redeeming attribute. Walk whithersoever one may, one cannot escape their evil consequences-tread wheresoever one will, they are sure to be encountered. They are like evil spirits, against the access of which there is no bar. Religion, modesty, and the whole host of virtuous inclinations are no safeguards: they will surmount every rampart, and accost every sentinel, every stranger, and every friend. Whoever ceases to feel the venom which their sting carries with them, is more than a philosopher-he is a Christian, who lives above the world, and is alone able to resist it. There are, however, seasons of rest to all men. In one of these seasons I took my usual walk. Now I found some relief, from the idea of prescience, of an Almighty Being ready to bend his eye towards every one whose heart is inclined towards him, and refuses to drink any longer the poisonous dregs of that bitter cup offered by the world. Seriously bent, I looked to the victory which the grave is destined to achieve, persuaded that it would one day bury in oblivion the violence of the human heart in its social and moral relations, and that the wound, which had been rankling with the poisonous influences of a vain, a deceitful, and a dishonest world, would be healed by a balm of everlasting efficacy. As was common with me, I wandered forth somewhat excited by thoughts of an imaginative cast, yet not divested of a due portion of reason, into the grounds of C. Herries, Esq., than which, to my eye, there are none more beautiful and picturesque in Lynmouth or its suburbs. They are a combination of nature and art. To do them justice by any description is impossible; they must be seen to be duly appreciated. The house is situated at the foot of a precipitous hill, or, more properly,