tion of men. There will then, also, be such a beauty and consistency in the manifestation of religious character and conduct as to excite the admiration, and command the respect of the world. It will approximate to that perfect standard which the Deity designed and Revelation requires.

"To learn the will of God from his works, requires the exercise of an acute, discriminating intellect. That he wills the highest possible degree of happiness to his rational creatures, is obvious from the fact, that he has endowed them with capacities for enjoyment, and spread around them a creation to minister to their desires. To the physical wants of every bodily organ he has furnished their appropriate aliment; to the social wants, companions, friends, and relatives; to the ideal wants, all the beauty, sublimity, and grandeur reflected from his creation; to the benevolent wants, objects of misery, and distress every where to be relieved; to the immortal wants, the apprehension of the eternal rules of right and wrong, and the feeble comprehension of his own infinite self. With such a table spread before him, man is bidden to the feast of life. And yet how often does he transform that feast to a revel, or scene of cruel contentions, or of deep debauch! With him lies the choice of directions, that terminate in the issues of life or of death. He may steep the soul in the action of the propensities so deep, that it can hardly wing an aspiration beyond the mere animal nature; or he may lift its action into higher and nobler natures, and ascend, through his own moral and religious elements, to the infinite source of every thing that is.

"To gratify all the propensities, in subjection to the higher sentiments, enlightened by intellect, 'to use the world as not abusing it;' to place the greatest good in the exercise of the highest thought and most ennobling feeling; to mingle with all the bland socialities of life; to revel amid the deep feelings of the ideal; to obey, in all things, the great and eternal rule of right, the golden rule of the gospel; to indulge in the exercise of a high and heaven-born benevolence; above all, to be thoroughly imbued with the deep and all-pervading feeling of dependence, that with the consciousness of having done all, and done all rightly, casts unhesitatingly and unreservedly all results and consequences upon Him with whom are the issues of things; are the dictates of wisdom, and the revelations of God as disclosed in his word, as proclaimed from his works.

"In what, then, does religion essentially consist? Not, certainly, in the mere obedience yielded to creeds, or forms of worship, or special observances. Not in the assumption of undisturbed gravity, great sedateness, or measured regularity of demeanour. Not in the indulgence of an ascetic spirit, condemning every thing bearing the impress of this world, and yet instinctively clinging to every thing earthly. Not in narrowness of mental vision, intolerance of opinion, or severity of judgment upon worldly affairs. Not in such consists the religion revealed in the gospel, or in the books of nature. Far other and different is its spirit and mode of exhibition.

"It inspires a deep felt humility, a strong sense of dependence, an unshaken confidence in the Supreme Power. To the pains and penalties of the physical sanction it brings uncomplaining endurance; to those of the political, a meek submission; to those of the popular, the disposition and effort to merit better things; and to those of the moral, the terrible inflictions of an awkward conscience, it brings, not the forgiveness of itself, but of its author. It applies to that self-created, and self-inflicting

wound, the balm of a pardoning God. It brings to that deadly leprosy of the immortal nature, the only means of relief, the only unction that can heal. Its spirit is mild, merciful, benevolent. To all the varying grades of suffering, it carries but one thought-to relieve. To all the complications of error, it brings but one purpose-tó amend. It seeks to do good to the only end that good may be done, and that irrespective of the agent. In joy it meets the approving smile of its God, and rejoices; in sorrow, the discipline of the same being, and rejoices still. It is purified by affliction, and ennobled by endurance. It finds in every thing around it more of good than of evil. It revenges wrongs committed, by visiting the moral nature of the wrong doer with the vengeance of forgiveness. Meek in its aspect, pretensionless in its claims, charitable in its constructions, it goes forth amid all this world's multiplied activities, and throws around its pains and pleasures, its loves and hatreds, its hopes and fears, its triumphs and defeats, the mild mantle of its own bland spirit. Its merits lay not in profession, but in possession. It is no noisy arguer, nor wordy disputant. It flies from the clash of creeds, and the wrangle of sects, and takes refuge with the lowly in mind. It points to the centre, source, origin, and cause of things, and urges upon every primitive power of man the highest possible motive that can be addressed to it. It invites rather than threatens, and appeals to human fears only as a means of strengthening human hopes. It hallows and sanctifies all within the sphere of its influence, and visits this sleep of the soul during life, with, at least, the dreams of heaven. It is to the spiritual world, what light is to the natural, and in its mild effulgence stand revealed, in their true proportions, all the mighty moral machinery of motive, intention, power, volition, and act. This is the spirit of the gospel, the spirit of nature. It is neither adverse to life, nor to any of its legitimate pursuits. Religion, unfitted and unadapted to this world, never would have been sent here by its author. The language of scorn, derision, contempt, and condemnation of all this world's uses and purposes, is the language of men, not of God. Why scorn the nursery in which the infancy of a limitless being is reared? We do not look back with contempt upon the cradle in which our slumbering infancy was rocked. The cradle is to life what the world is to eternity. All the uses and purposes of which the last is susceptible, may, in some after stage of our being, be viewed by us in the same light that we now look back upon the baubles that decked our infancy. Yet those baubles were real to us then, and so are the uses and purposes of this world now. They were also useful then. They brought into exercise the same powers and faculties that were required in after life. So also are the uses and purposes of this world useful now. They call out our powers and faculties into action, and serve to discipline immortal natures. What! with a physical frame, and mental powers and capacities adapted to the present state of things, to condemn every thing earthly, and to yield to that condemnation the highest possible homage, that of our action; to lay aside all effort and exertion, because every thing here is too mean for attainment, and thus merit heaven by becoming self-destroyers on earth! This would be a doctrine unworthy the reception of man; much more, then, the bestowment of God.

"It is not against the uses, but the abuses of this world, that the mild spirit of religion raises its voice of protestation and warning. Against the unregulated action of the propensities it brings to bear all the machinery of man's higher nature. But their modified, regulated action it invites, encourages, enforces. Its great, leading, and all-controlling object is, to make man fitter for heaven, by rendering him a better tenant of

earth; not a more earthly tenant, but a more heavenly occupant of an earthly dwelling-place.

"Religion is emphatically a thing of life, and dwells with living sympathies, and kindles and glows with living emotions. It is caculated not merely for a Sabbath day garment, but for an every day familiar. It is designed to accompany the merchant to his counting-house; the mechanic to his work-shop; the student to his study; and the farmer to his field of labour. It forms the golden dream of youth; the firmer strength of manhood; the supporting staff of age. Without it, fear subsides into dismay, and hope dies in despair; all things contingent are regarded as necessary, and all means transformed into ends; the great mistake is discovered too late to be rectified, and the death that was expected to fold in eternal slumber, on its approach seems rather to awaken to eternal vigilance."

MISCELLANY.

Examination of a Skull.-After a public lecture on phrenology at the Temperance Hall, in this city, on the evening of March 6th, 1840, two skulls were presented to Mr. L. N. Fowler for examination. Mr. Fowler had no knowledge whatever of the character of the individuals to whom the skulls belonged, and was governed in his examination solely by their cranial developements. We can now give only the results of one examination, though the other was by no means less striking and correct, and may be presented in some future number of the Journal. Mr. Fowler's remarks on the first skull, were as follows:

1st, I should think this was the skull of a male, who had a large brain, and considerable mind, yet was more distinguished for his physical strength and powers of endurance.

2d, His moral sentiments were decidedly weak, particularly Conscien tiousness and Hope; and his actions were without reference to the future, or regard for principles of justice.

3d, He had very strong animal feelings and propensities. The strongest of these were Combativeness, Destructiveness, Alimentiveness, and Firmness, which, if perverted, would make him quarrelsome, cruel, desperate, and stubborn in the extreme. He would be disposed to boast, be proud of his strength, and when angry, would be reckless and desperate; was naturally ambitious, yet low-minded, witty, and fond of sport and sensual indulgence; was very self-willed, and had uncommon self-possession and presence of mind; never gave up the object of his pursuit, and would always have his own way, right or wrong. To sum up his character, I should say that Destructiveness and Firmness had a controlling influence, making him cruel, desperate, and possessed of a murderous disposition, and a stubborn, ungovernable will.

Such was Mr. Fowler's examination, after which the gentleman who had obtained the skull from Georgetown, Del., stated to the audience some facts in the character of the person to whom it belonged. It appeared that the individual, whose skull was examined, was Robert Morris, who had been executed for murder. The following document contains briefly the facts in the case:

vs.

Court of Oyer and Terininer, Oct. Term, 1831. Indictment for Murder.

This indictment was found at the October term, State of Delaware, 1831, of the court in Sussex County, Delaware, upon the oath of the grand inquest, charging the said Robert Morris with the murder, on board of a brig lying in the Delaware Bay, of the captain by the name of Hilburn; he was convicted at the court above-named, and executed on Tuesday, the eighth J day of November, 1831.

Robert Morris. Witnesses: Samuel Allen, John O'Berry.

Remarks.-Robert Morris was an Englishman by birth, was shipped at Philadelphia whilst in a state of intoxication, and on being ordered from his berth whilst opposite Lewistown, in the Delaware Bay, was pulled by the captain from the berth in which he was lying, and then stabbed the captain with a long Spanish knife. He was a man of remarkable muscle, and of great firmness. He walked to the gallows, and adjusted the cord about his neck, telling the sheriff where the best place was to fix the knot. The rope broke, in consequence of his request that the sheriff would make the drop long, to kill him instantly. On being taken up again, he offered to place the rope over the hook, remarking, that he would die like a man, and without a struggle. Such was indeed the fact; he never exhibited the least appearance of fear, nor moved a muscle, that could be discovered.

He stated, after his conviction for murder, that he had no intention to kill Captain Hilburn, but that he shipped on board the brig whilst intoxicated, and when he become more sober, he wanted to be set on shore, as he was not pleased with being on board so small a vessel and weak manned, having been accustomed to being on board of men-of-war, having been on a four years' cruise with Commodore Hull, of the United States service, who could, if present, testify to his good behaviour and undoubted bravery.

I certify the above statements to be truths taken from the record, and personal conversation myself with Robert Morris. In testimony of which, I have hereunto set my hand, this 27th February, 1840, at Georgetown, Del.

JOSHUA S. LAYTON.

Character inferred from an Examination of the Skull, by Mr. Deville, of London.-The numerous readers of "Jack Sheppard," have doubtless become familiar with the stern, hardened, infamous, and vindictive character of Jonathan Wild, whose skeleton is now in the possession of Mr. Fowler, a surgeon of Windsor, England. The friends of phrenology, and, indeed, the curious portions of society in general, will doubtless be interested in some account of the craniological developements of so extraordinary a villain. We learn, then, that the skeleton, as it stands in case, is five feet five inches; and several medical men who have seen it, have pronounced that Wild, when living, must have stood about five feet eight or nine inches. The skeleton is in a perfect state, with the exception of the thumb of the left hand, and part of the forefinger of the right hand, which are missing. There are three teeth in the head, which are quite sound. Mr. Fowler, anxious to ascertain if the general character of Wild, while living, was borne out by the phrenological developements of the head, sent the skull, some time since, to Mr. Deville, the well-known phrenologist in the Strand; but without

giving the most remote hint as to the name and character of the party whose shoulders it once fitted." It was returned to Mr. Fowler, with a "certificate" from Mr. Deville, of which the following is a copy :

This is the skull of an individual possessing some useful faculties for mechanical operations, going about and comprehending things readily; but he is a singular character, with a large portion of brain in the region of the propensities. And under disappointment of his own importance, pecuniary difficulties, or intoxication, he would be very likely to commit crime. He would be fond of offspring or children, but not a kind parent, as the mandate must be obeyed. He would be the associate of a female, and probably be a married man, but liable to jealousy, being a doubter of the integrity of others towards himself; and while in this state of feeling, if aroused, he would be liable to do injury to those so offending him, and, if opposed, murder might be the result from such an organisation. He would be conceited, self-willed, and obstinate, and, if opposed in his own views, his passions would run very high. He would, without much hesitation, appropriate to his own use the property of others; but, in so doing, show some ingenuity and cunning, it being difficult of detection. He would, at times, manifest some feeling for religion, and might follow some sect, and at times hold forth upon the subject; but I doubt much the integrity upon it, being more to cover and screen the animal propensities. He would be a talker in his own society-a knowing and conceited individual. He has had some notions of music, and having some command of words, would be likely to become the songster of his society-such an organisation preferring society where he could become the hero of a public-house party. From the character of the bones, it appears to be the skull of an elderly man, whom I consider as having had the power of becoming useful, but from the predominance of the animal, I consider him an aged sinner.

It will be perceived by all those who have read the life of Wild, that the above delineation of his character, according to phrenology, is remarkably correct.

Noble Sentiment.-Dr. Spurzheim was emphatically the friend of woman. In conversation with a lady at Boston, on the subject of female education, he remarked that woman would have but little influence on society, till the systems of instruction were improved. "And how can they be improved?" inquired the lady. "By the efforts of yourself, madam, and others of your own sex who take an interest in the subject," he promptly replied. "Men do not, except in very rare instances, feel inclined to promote the mental improvement of females; they fear that they shall lose their empire over you, if you become as wise as men; therefore, you must in the first place educate yourselves-lead the way, and show us, by example, the benefits that result from a good and tho rough system of instruction. I know that reason must be cultivated, in order that persons may understand their moral duties, and the best manner of discharging them; but my sex do not, as yet, care to have women reason; they think it enough if you can only feel. This is wrong; for till women are taught to reason, they cannot cultivate the reasoning powers of their children; and hence it is, that the passions and selfish feelings are made so predominant in the greater part of our race. But women must themselves take the lead in correcting these errors."