Part 6

By the contrary reasoning, neither the will, nor the reason, nor the understanding, are possessed of any organs, for they are nothing but forces; they are nothing but nouns collective—words.

“These observations may suffice,” says Gall, “to convince the reader that there cannot exist any special organ of the will, or the freewill.” He adds: “It is equally impossible that there should be any peculiar organ of the reason.”

Finally he says: “From all that I have now said it follows, that the idea of an organ of the intellect or understanding is quite as inadmissible as the idea of an organ of the instinct.”

Hence there can be nought but the faculties; and, according to Gall, these faculties are so distinct, that he attributes to each particular one a separate organ. He divides the understanding into little understandings.

Descartes expressed himself in the following words: “We do not conceive of any body, except as divisible; whereas the human mind cannot conceive of itself except as indivisible; for in fact we are incapable of conceiving of half a soul.” Gall, however, settles that point. He makes half souls. He retrenches or adds as many faculties as suits his plan. These faculties are separated by material limits. He goes so far as to say that such or such a faculty acts with greater or less facility upon such or such another faculty, according as one happens to be situated nearer to or farther off from the other.

“As the organ of the arts,” says he, “is located far from that of the sense of colour, the circumstance explains why historical painters have rarely been colourists.”

Thus, we find that the faculties alone are possessed of forces. These forces alone are endowed with organs; and these organs, by which they are kept separate from each other, separate them to distances sufficiently great to hinder, in certain cases, one given faculty from exercising any influence over another. Therefore, there is no such thing as unity; there is no unit faculty, no unit understanding; there is no me; and if there be no me, there can be no soul.

In the same way he abolishes the freewill. Will, liberty, reason, in his view, are nothing but results, as I have already stated.

“To the end,” says he, “that man may not be confined merely to the ability to wish—in order that he may actually will—the concurrence of several superior faculties is requisite. The motives must be weighed, compared, and judged; the decision resulting from this operation is denominated will.”

“Reason,” he further adds, “supposes a concerted action of the superior faculties. It is the judgment pronounced by the superior intellectual faculties.”

Hence, the will is nothing but a decision; reason is nothing but a judgment. The faculties concert together. What a singular philosophy, which always substitutes the fictions of language for the facts of the conscious sense, and which is satisfied with those fictions!

Freewill is either a power, a force, or it is nothing. He resolves that it is merely a result. Gall therefore abolishes the freewill.

Indeed, he makes of the idea of God nothing but a relative and conditional idea, for he supposes that this idea comes from a particular organ; and he supposes that that organ may possibly, in some case, be wanting.

“It cannot be doubted,” says Gall, “that the human race are endowed with an organ by means of which it recognises and admires the Author of the universe.”

“God exists,” adds he, “for there is an organ to know and adore him.”

But he continues: “Climate and other circumstances may obstruct the development of the cerebral part, by means of which the Creator designed to reveal himself to his creature man.”

Again: “If there were a people whose organization should be altogether defective in this respect, they would be as little susceptible as any other kinds of animal, of the religious idea or sentiment.”

Further: “There is no God for beings whose organization does not bear the original stamp of determinate faculties.”

What! If I happen not to possess a little peculiar organ, (for it may be wanting,) can I not feel that God exists! And how can I be an intelligence, knowing myself, and yet not knowing that God is? I do not more strongly feel that I am, than that God is. “This idea,” (the idea of God) says Descartes, “is born and produced along with me, just as is the idea of myself.”

My understanding, which perceives itself and feels itself to be an effect, necessarily perceives the intelligent Cause which produced it. “It is a very evident thing,” says Descartes again, “that there must be at least as much reality in a cause as in the effect it produces; and since I am a thing that thinks, whatsoever be in fact the cause of my being, I am compelled to confess, that it also is something that thinks.”

Hitherto I have considered Gall’s philosophy only under its speculative points of view; what would it be, if considered in a practical relation?

In one of his happy moments, Diderot wrote the following very remarkable phrase: “The ruin of liberty overthrows all order and all government, confounds vice and virtue together, sanctions every monstrous infamy, extinguishes all shame and all remorse, and degrades and deforms without recovery the whole human race.”

Nothing astonishes a phrenologist.

“Let us imagine,” says Gall, “a woman in whom the love of offspring is but little developed, ... if, unfortunately, the organ of murder be very much developed in her, need we be surprised if her hand....” &c.

Organization explains every thing.

“These last named facts show us,” says Gall, “that this detestable inclination (the inclination to commit murder) has its source in a vice of the organization.”

“Let those haughty men,” says he again, “who cause nations to be slaughtered by thousands, know that they do not act of their own accord, but that Nature herself has filled their hearts with rage and destructiveness.”

No, indeed! This is not what they must know; for, thanks be to God, it is not true. What they ought to know, what they ought to be told, is, that although Providence has left to man the power to do evil, he has also endowed him with the power to do good. That which man ought to know, that which should be instilled into his mind and heart is, that he has a free power, and that this power ought not to be misdirected; and that he who in his own nature misdirects it, no matter under what form of philosophy he takes refuge, is a being who degrades his nature.