KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



295 



it flutters restlessly up and down, up and 

 down, over the same spot, during the whole 

 era of a summer evening. Finally, it dies ; 

 just as the last dying streaks of day are 

 leaving the western horizon. 



Who .shall say that this May-fly has not, 

 in this brief space of time, undergone all the 

 vicissitudes of a long and eventful life ? — 

 that it has not felt all the freshness of 

 youth, all the vigor of maturity, all the weak- 

 ness and satiety of old age, and all the feel- 

 ings peculiar to death ? In a word, how 

 know we that any essential difference exists 

 between its four hours and our fourscore 

 years ? 



We dearly love to reflect upon all these 

 things as we stroll along — more particularly 

 towards evening, or when— 



The Orb of day has set, and dewy Eve 



Hastens to don her vest of sable hue. 

 Before she wanders forth her web to weave 



Of darkness ; while the o'erarching blue 

 Hangs over her with his bright starry eyes, 



Beaming with love all beautiful and true. 

 Over the universe with swift foot she flies, 



And, as she speeds on, through the dreaming 

 earth 

 Sends her sweet breath, which lulls the soul to 



rest. 

 Hush'd is each gentle songster in its nest ; 

 No more with music sweet the grove o'erflows — 



Silence hath ta'en the place of noisy Mirth, 

 And downy slumber drowns the past day's 



woes : — 

 Oblivious of all care, earth's millions now repose ! 



The feelings that creep over us as this 

 " noisy mirth " subsides, and as the last 

 voice of some happy bird becomes hushed, 

 we have no power to describe — nor would 

 we attempt it if it were in our power to do 

 so. Two fond hearts, walking together in 

 the twilight, have many times experienced 

 what we hint at ; and many fond couples 

 are perhaps even now experiencing it, for 

 we are writing by twilight — the sun having 

 gone down to his rest not long since, with a 

 face full of love and glory. 



But we are here imperatively commanded 

 by our printer to halt. It is a hint we 

 stand in need of, or we know not to what an 

 extent our pen might have rambled. Let us 

 however, ere we go, entreat all who would 

 be truly happy to be as natural as possible. 

 To be natural, as we have elsewhere said, is 

 to be innocent. And who would not be 

 innocent — 



At thi9 sweet time, the glory of the Spring, 

 Young verdurous June's delightful opening, 

 When leaves are loveliest, and young fruits and 



flowers 

 Fear not the frosts of May's uncertain hours ? 

 'Tis wise to let the touch of Mature thrill 

 Through the full heart. 'Tis wise to take our fill 

 Of all she brings, and gently to give way 

 To what within our soul she seems to say : — 



" The world grows rich in beauty and in bliss ; 

 " Past Springs were welcome — how much more 



SO THIS !" 



At such a season as the present, innocence 

 must not be regarded as a crime. Let all 

 who think as we think on this matter, join 

 our standard ; and help lovingly to enforce 

 the truth of our argument. Long faces — in 

 June at all events — must never be where ave 

 are. Everything forbids it. 



So let the mask be laid aside until Winter. 

 " Fashion " will then be in all her glory; 

 and any pretension to innocence " impos- 

 sible." 



PHEENOLOGY FOR THE MILLION. 

 No. LV.— PHYSIOLOGY OF THE BRAIN. 



BY F. J. GALL, M.D. 



(Continued from Page 233.) 



The most furious madmen often allow 

 themselves to be turned from their purpose by 

 menaces, by the sight of the superintendant or 

 physician, by mild and reasonable treatment; 

 but what effect will all human efforts produce on 

 a man, whom Heaven and hell command, or who 

 has them under his orders? M. Pinel cites the 

 example of an old monk, whose reason had been 

 impaired by devotion. (!) He thought, one night, 

 that he had seen, in a dream, the Virgin sur- 

 rounded by a choir of happy spirits, and that he 

 had received an express order to put to death a 

 man whom he viewed as incredulous. This mur- 

 derous project would have been executed, had not 

 the madman betrayed his intentions, and been 

 prevented by severe confinement. The same 

 author also speaks of a credulous vine -dresser, 

 whose imagination was so stongly shaken by the 

 sermon of a missionary, that he believed himself 

 condemned to eternal fires ; and that he could only 

 save his family from the same fate, by what is 

 called the baptism of blood, or martyrdom. He 

 first tried to commit murder on his wife, who, 

 with great difficulty, succeeded in escaping his 

 hands. Soon after, his furious hand was turned 

 upon his two young children; and he had the 

 barbarity to murder them in cold blood, in order 

 to obtain immortal life for them. When surren- 

 dered into the hands of justice, he cut the throat 

 of his fellow prisoner — still with the intention of 

 making an expiatory sacrifice. His madness 

 being ascertained, he was condemned to be shut 

 up for the rest of his life in the cells of the 

 Bicetre. 



The solitude of a long imprisonment, always 

 fitted to exalt the imagination, and the idea of 

 having escaped death, notwithstanding the sen- 

 tence which he supposed to have been passed by 

 the judges, still aggravate his delirium, and make 

 him believe that he is clothed with almighty 

 power ; or, to use his expression, that he is the 

 fourth person in the Trinity ; that his special 

 mission is to save the world by the baptism of 

 blood, and that all the potentates of the world 

 united could not touch his life. His madness is, 

 however, partial, and limited to this religious 

 phrensy ; he appeared on every other subject to 

 enjoy the soundest reason. 



