usually a stronger feeling in males than in females. There are striking differences in national character on this point. The organ is situated on what is usually the highest point of the head, directly back of a vertical line drawn from the orifice of the ear. The regulating feeling should itself be regulated, or there is great danger to be apprehended from it. It is necessary to great enterprises. No man has distinguished himself for the influence he has had over other minds, unless he has possessed to a high degree the characteristic of firmness. Men, who have the feeling small, will be changeable and vacillating in character, entering upon a pursuit, perhaps with great avidity, and following it for a while with commendable zeal, until near accomplishing their purpose, and then fly away to something else. Such men do not obtain, and long retain, the lead in public affairs. Large firmness, self-esteem, and combativeness, will give great desire for command. Those, who reluctantly yield their plans and opinions to others, will endeavour to make others yield to them. As a quality of perseverance, it is peculiarly necessary in litigation, and its abuse lays the foundation for much of the contention of the law. Obstinacy in error is to be lamented, but in a good cause it becomes a virtue. The martyrs were distinguished for firmness and conscientiousness. A portrait of John Rogers, the martyr, shows these organs to have been very large in him. Both Drs. Gall and Spurzheim were remarkable for their firmness of character, and the organ was very large in the heads of both. Natural language. When firmness is large, its tendency is to make the head and body perfectly erect, and it gives a peculiar hardness to manner, unless the person have been much in society, and have also large reverence, and love of approbation. In speech, the voice will be emphatic. Such persons find it difficult to enter into the feelings of another quick, or to feel new emotions suddenly. Former emotions are not readily changed for others. It uses the emphatic I will, and shuts the mouth closely. It is peremptory. XVI. Analysis. CONSCIENTIOUSNESS. Conscientiousness, like all the sentiments, is blind, and has no power to discriminate between right and wrong; this is the work of the intellect, excited by the feeling in question. And when we are taught to believe, and do in fact believe, that any thing done is right or wrong, the feeling of conscientiousness is active in view of it. When the feeling is strong, it will call the intellect to view actions critically, in reference to the question of justice; and such, as possess the feeling strongly, will be much roused when an injury is received. When the feeling is small, the individual may inquire whether a thing will be popular, whether it will please his friends, whether it will be honorable, or charitable, but will think nothing about the question, Is it right? People, who have but small conscientiousness, may do right from the imperfect moral character of other feelings, but do not because they feel it a conscientious duty so to do. It will be seen from this, that conscientiousness is liable to abuse, even when strong and active, provided the intellect be weak or unenlightened. The Hindoo mother may be as conscientious, when she commits her infant to the Ganges, as is the Christian mother, who carefully rears her child, and instructs it in the principles of Christianity. I intend to give a view of conscience in another place. See definitions. Innateness. - Is there such a distinct elementary principle, with its corresponding organ? This question (whether there is an innate sense of right and wrong) has long been a subject of dispute among philosophers, but has been practically admitted in society, because it is often deeply felt. It is not strange that such difference of opinion should exist among writers, who give themselves no trouble to gather facts, but who judge merely from their own feelings. Those, who have the feeling but in a feeble degree, and the morality of whose actions springs from other principles, such as self-esteem, love of approbation, benevolence, or any form of selfishness, would be likely to deny the innateness of the feeling. Hence Hobbes, who flourished about the middle of the seventeenth century, referred our approval of virtuous actions to self-love, on the ground that what improves society improves ourselves, and that the civil laws are the ultimate standard of morality. Mandeville was also a believer in the selfish system. Hume attributed all judgments of actions to a sense of utility. Cudworth, Hutchinson, Reid, Stewart, and Brown admit the faculty in question. Dr. Gall referred the sentiment to benevolence. But Dr. Spurzheim has demonstrated the feeling and its corresponding organ by so many facts, that the organ is no longer considered doubtful. I have made many observations upon this organ. I have in a few instances seen it exceedingly small, even among the higher classes, and in such cases I have found a deficiency in the sentiment. This was the case of a Mr. G―, who, at the time I saw him, was in the Lunatic Asylum at Hartford. I saw a remarkable depression of that organ in a man of great wealth and high standing. His head was bald, and the depression might be seen by a favorable light at a distance of thirty feet. I have seen it very large in several instances. It is more frequently large in children. Those who have it very large are apt to make conscience of every thing. I saw a case of the morbid activity of it, in connexion with large cautionsness. The individual thought he had committed an unpardonable sin, and that, as a just punishment, he should be eternally miserable. A person may determine whether the principle be a strong one in himself, by the manner in which he can truly answer the following questions: Do I habitually inquire, am I right in relation to my actions? And do I readily discriminate between what is right and what is wrong? Do I discover and notice an act of injustice more readily than an insult? The master spirit of Bonaparte was darkened, when the question of right and wrong was to be examined, and he could never understand the motives of a man, who had any scruples of conscience. A judge, who is deficient in this principle, may understand the force of precedent, and of the policy of law, but will never readily discover the justice of a case. A lawyer, who is deficient in conscientiousness, may be shrewd, cunning, persevering, and popular, and it will be a matter of indifference to him whether he is on the right or wrong side. But he will be an unsafe counsellor, and can seldom anticipate the decisions of a just judge. -- XVII. HOPE. Definition. Hope is that sentiment which excites. the intellectual faculties to contemplate those things, which may be expected to transpire agreeable to our desires. All the feelings have strong desires, but hope is a sentiment added to them, and which leads us to expect the gratification of our desires by the contemplation of those chances, which may happen in our favor. This feeling always has the threefold influence of exciting the intellect, of leading it to contemplate objects and chances which will be favorable to our wishes, and of warping the judgments by inducing us to contemplate the favorable results only. It never leads the mind to the past, except for an argument in favor of the future. It may lead us only to the immediate future, or it may contemplate our destiny throughout eternity. As it regards the future, it is the direct antagonist of cautiousness. As hope is the attendant of the desires of the other feelings, it will act most strongly with those which are strongest. A man, with predominating acquisitiveness, will find his hopes principally active in relation to expected pecuniary success. A man with strong faith and reverence will hope principally in relation to his future destiny. Hope borders on marvellousness, and is kindred in character. Marvellousness leads us to believe that, of which hope only gives us strong expectations. When hope and cautiousness are both strong, a person |