XI. PERFECTIVENESS, OR IDEALITY.

Beautiful! How beautiful is all this visible world!
How glorious in its action and itself!-Byron.

When this organ was first discovered, it was called the organ of Poetry, because it was found large on distinguished poets. It was afterwards observed to be equally large on celebrated sculptors, musicians, orators, and all those who were uncommonly devoted to the fine arts, and manifested a quick perception of the beautiful. Dr. Spurzheim, perceiving the necessity of changing the name, adopted that of Ideality, which signifies ideal beauty, or a kind of beauty which is superior to reality, and which exists only in imagination. Mr. Combe considers Ideality as "an elegant and appropriate name." It is certainly elegant and euphonious, but I cannot admit that it is appropriate; I have therefore adopted that of Perfectiveness, by which I mean the propensity to improve and perfect. So far is it from being related to a kind of beauty which is superior to nature that I consider it as directly related to the works of nature, particularly those which are perfect of their kind. One of the traits of character which distinguishes man from other animals, as much, and perhaps more, than any other, is the propensity to improve. He not only continues to accumulate knowledge, and to improve in the skill and beauty of his performances from infancy to manhood, but from age to age he is capable of progressive improvement. There are different degrees of perfection, in all organized beings; every kind of vegetable, and even the most unsightly animals, may be more or less perfect of their kind, and are

therefore appropriate objects for the gratification of Perfectiveness. I have seen gardeners with this organ large, pluck up valuable trees and shrubs and plants, and supply their places at great expense with others of a more perfect kind. The same is true of the productions of nature in a collective or grouped state, when a variety of lovely and noble objects are brought into juxtaposition, so as to constitute a magnificent and perfect scene. It is easy to conceive that such a mind as Byron's, would feel inspired with this propensity, when from some lofty eminence he looked around upon one of the most enchanting scenes in Italy, and exclaimed with rapture,

"Beautiful! How beautiful is all this visible world!"

Some might have gazed upon the same scene, without thinking of any thing but the value of timber, or the number of cattle that could feed there to advantage.

The lower animals give no evidence whatever of their admiration of the beautiful.

"Brutes graze the mountain top, with faces prone,

And eyes intent upon the scanty herb

It yields them; or recumbent on its brow,
Ruminate heedless of the scene outspread
Beneath, beyond, and stretching far away
From inland regions to the distant main.
Man views it and admires."

This propensity seems to modify and exalt the aim of all the powers with which it combines. It disposes them to rise above mere utility, or rather, it crowns the productions of utility with ornament. Does Alimentiveness require a repast? this propensity insists upon its being served up with elegance, and is disgusted with the idea of feeding like a mere animal. Does Constructiveness inspire the mind with a desire to build a house? Perfectiveness wishes to have it in the best style; not merely warm, convenient, and comforta

ble, but splendid and perfect in every respect. Does Ac quisitiveness desire to accumulate property? it inclines him to do so in the most noble and refined manner; it soon becomes wearied with the dull monotony of mere business, however profitable. In this manner it very much modifies Acquisitiveness, rouses it from the mean and grovelling pursuits to which it is prone, when this propensity is small, and demands time for improvement. The majority of thieves have this organ deficient, particularly those which commit petit larceny. It frequently deters men from little crimes, not because they are wrong, but because they are mean. I once saw a highway robber with large Perfectiveness, and speaking of himself, he said, "I do not skulk around for my prey like a thieving owl, but I pounce upon it like an eagle." The artist who has it large, is continually searching for the finest forms in nature, for his models. The proudest achievements of genius, are but imperfect copies of natural beauty. In almost all the complicated productions of nature, certain parts are much more perfect than others; and the artist, by selecting from a great number of specimens, the parts which happen to be most perfect, and grouping them artificially together, is able to produce a combination superior to any that can be found in reality. The florist, can select the most beautiful flowers of the season, and with them form a boquet more exquisitely beautiful, and better adapted to please the human mind, than any that can be found in nature. The sculptor, or painter, proceeds upon the same principle, when he produces a Venus, an Adonis, or an Apollo. He finds upon one individual a beautiful forehead, upon another a nose, or an arm, and by combining all the individual instances of perfection in one statue, he seems to excel nature, when he has only grouped together a number of imperfect copies of her most perfect productions.

Poetry is the perfection of language. We may combine words in such a manner as merely to be understood; but if this organ is very large, its possessor will choose a noble subject, use the most elegant and refined words, and combine them in the most graceful style; the illustrations also, will be chosen, not for their propriety only, but for their beauty, gorgeousness, and splendor. Every thing low, vulgar, mean, or common, will as far as possible be avoided. The images which spontaneously rise in such a mind, and which will be entertained with the greatest delight, will be of the highest order. In looking around upon the face of nature, the attention will be particularly directed to such objects as are adapted to this propensity--so that afterwards, when writing upon any subject, the images of the objects thus noticed will be involuntarily presented to the imagination, and described in the glowing language of poetry.

"The poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling,

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven" to find ideas fitted to illustrate, amplify and adorn his subject: and if his inspired vision cannot light upon any known objects "that suit his large desires," he resorts to invention, and his prolific

"Imagination bodies forth,

The forms of things unknown."

Like an aspiring æronaut, he cuts himself loose from the dull and prosing circumstances that confine him to the atmosphere of ordinary life-soars above the clouds-takes his station among the stars, and looks down through “the dizziness of distance" upon this lower world, where all common objects are lost in obscurity, and only the grandest and brightest can be distinguished. Such were the aspirations of Shakespeare, when he exclaimed,

"O for a muse of fire, that would ascend

The brightest heaven of invention:

A kingdom for a stage, princes to act,

And monarchs to behold the swelling scene."

And such also must have been the feelings of Milton, when he invoked the inspiration of Him

"Who touched Isaiah's lips with hallowed fire."

Any one, in order fully to appreciate the productions of such authors, must approximate to them in organization; and it is very easy to understand, upon Phrenological principles, why some persons take no pleasure in reading the works of the immortal poets. Shakespeare, aware of the necessity of this mutual understanding, introduces Chorus in Henry the Fifth, to request the audience to

"Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them,
Printing their proud hoofs i'the receiving earth:

For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
Carry them here and there: jumping o'er times:
Turning the accomplishment of many years

Into an hour glass."

This propensity is very dependent upon the highest organs of intellect. Perfectiveness gives the desire to improve, but Reflection gives the ability-the talent-the necessary invention. Sometimes a very large organ of Perfectiveness is found combined with a very small intellect. The forehead may be high and wide, but shallow. In such cases the manifestations will frequently be in the highest degree eccentric and ridiculous, especially if combined with very large Approbativeness and Hopefulness. They are continually attempting more than they can perform. They lay out all their undertakings on such a large and splendid scale, that they can seldom be realized-their ideas are like monstrous and brilliant bubbles, which burst while they are coming into existence. If we read their compositions, we are entertained with a pompous array of splendid and beautiful nothings-their public discourses are mere

"Sound and fury signifying nothing.”