of the hemispheres of the brain; so that this statement may still be verified. In a pretty numerous assemblage, Dr. Gall was asked what he thought of a little man, who sat at a considerable distance from him? As it was rather dark, he said, that, in truth, he could not see him very distinctly, but that he observed, nevertheless, the organ of poetry extremely developed. He was then informed that this was the famous poet François, generally named Cordonnier, from his having been bred a shoemaker. "If we pass in review," says Dr. Gall, "the portraits and busts of the poets of all ages, we shall find this configuration of head common to them all; as in Pindar, Euripides, Sophocles, Heraclides, Plautus, Terence, Virgil, Tibullus, Ovid, Horace, Juvenal, Boccacio, Ariosto, Aretin, Tasso, Milton, Boileau, J. B. Rousseau, Pope, Young, Grosset, Voltaire, Gesner, Klopstock, Wieland," &c. Dr. Bailly, in a letter, dated Rome, 30th May, 1822, addressed to Dr. Brayer, says: "You may tell Dr. Gall that I have a mask of Tasso, taken from nature, and that, although part of the organ of poetry be cut off, nevertheless the lateral breadth of the cranium in this direction is enormous."

The bust of Homer presents an extraordinary developement at this part of the head. It is doubted whether it be authentic ; but, be it real or ideal, the existence of the prominence is remarkable. If it be ideal, why was the artist led to give this particular form, which is the only one in accordance with nature? If he modelled the head of the most distinguished poet of his day, as the best representative of Homer, the existence of this developement is still a fact in favor of the organ.

We owe to Dr. Spurzheim the correct analysis of this faculty, and the very elegant and appropriate name by which it is designated. "It is impossible," says he, "that poetry in general should be confined to one single organ; and I therefore think that the name "Organ of Poetry, (used by Dr. Gall,) does not indicate the essential faculty."—"In every kind of poetry, the sentiments are:

* A cast of the head of this individual is in the Phrenological Society's collection, Edinburgh, and in De Ville's, London. The organ in question is uncom— monly large.

exalted, the expressions warm; and there must be rapture, inspiration, what is commonly called Imagination or Fancy."

This faculty produces the desire for exquisiteness, or perfection, and is delighted with what the French call "Le beau idéal.” It is this faculty which gives inspiration to the poet. The knowing and reflecting faculties perceive qualities as they exist in nature; but this faculty desires, for its gratification, something more exquisitely perfect than the scenes of reality. It desires to elevate and to endow with a splendid excellence every object presented to the mind. It stimulates the faculties which form ideas to create scenes, in which every object is invested with the qualities which it delights to contemplate. It is particularly valuable to man as a progressive being. It inspires him with a ceaseless love of improvement, and prompts him to form and realize splendid conceptions. It gives a manner of feeling and of thinking, befitting the regions of fancy, rather than the abodes of men. Hence those only on whom it is powerfully bestowed can possibly be poets, and hence the proverb, "poëta nascitur, non fit."

Those who experience a difficulty in conceiving what the faculty is, may compare the character of Blount with that of Raleigh in Kenilworth "But what manner of animal art thou thyself, Raleigh," said Tressilian, "that thou holdest us all so lightly?"— "Who I?" replied Raleigh, "An eagle am I, that never will think of dull earth, while there is a heaven to soar in, and a sun to gaze upon; "—Or they may compare the poetry of Swift with that of Milton; the metaphysical writings of Dr. Reid with those of Dr. Thomas Brown; the poetry of Crabbe with that of Byron; or Dean Swift's prose with that of Dr. Chalmers.

It was this faculty, "by whose aid" Shakspeare imagined the characters of Ariel and Prospero. Prospero's concluding speech in the Tempest, is a beautiful specimen of the style of writing which it produces.

"I have bedimmed

The noon-tide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds,
And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault
Set roaring war; to the dread rattling thunder
Have I giv'n fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak

With his own bolt; the strong bas'd promontory
Have I made shake, and by the spurs plucked up
The pine and cedar; graves at my command
Have waked their sleepers; open'd and let them forth
By my so potent art. But this rough magic
I here abjure; and when I have required
Some heavenly music, which even now I do,
To work mine end upon their senses, that
This airy charm is for; I'll break my staff;
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth;

And, deeper than did ever plummet sound,
I'll drown my book."

Individuals differ exceedingly in regard to the endowment of this faculty which they possess. According to the energy and activity of it, poetry is prized or relished. I have met individuals who declared that they could perceive no excellence in poetical compositions, and could derive no gratification from them; and yet such individuals were endowed with every degree of understanding and penetration, according as they possessed the other faculties strongly or weakly, and were not uniformly deficient, either in moral sentiments or judgment, in proportion to their want of poetic fire.

This faculty gives a peculiar tinge to all the other faculties. It makes them, in every thing, aspire to Ideality. A cast of the human head is a plain transcript of nature; a bust is nature, elevated and adorned by the ideality of a Chantry, a Joseph, or a Macdonald. Add a large developement of this organ to the other propensities, sentiments and reflecting powers, and it expands the field of their interest; carries them outwards, and forwards, and upwards and causes them to delight in schemes of improvement. In common life, we easily distinguish those who have, from those who have not, a considerable endowment of it. The former speak, in general, in an elevated strain of language, and, when animated, show a splendor of eloquence and of poetical feeling, which the latter are never able to command. It gives to conversation a fascinating sprightliness and buoyancy, the very opposite of the qualities expressed by the epithets, dryness and dulness.

Some sects in religion, and, among others, that most respectable