6 APRIL 1850, Page 15

BOOKS.

LLFE AND CORRESPONDENCE •OF DR. ANDREW COMBE..

Tun distinguishing characteristic of the late Andrew Combe was the power of popularly expounding scientific principles, and ap- plying them to a broad, distinot, and useful purpose. Original in the sense of discovery he was not : he made no great discovery like Harvey's on the blood, or Bet's on the nerves. We believe'e was the first in the order of date who called attention to hygiene in a large sense,—that is.to say, the preservation of health, the pre- vention of disease, and the encouragement of cure, by attending to the due performance of the general functions of the body, and to ventilation, exercise, and r4men. Strictly speaking, these prin- ciples had never been altogether lost sight of. There were always men who practised cleanliness and temperance, and took the " constitutional " walk ; as there have always been writers both lay and professional, both -in prose and verse, to enforce the canon that " cleanliness is next to godliness," and to inculcate the truth that "health consists with temperance alone." The excellence of Andrew Combe consisted not in the discovery of these rules, but in the systematic manner in which he enforced and illustrated them, by a popular exposition of the physiological why and wherefore. The public attention, however, since •the time of Cook and Howard, had been so directed to this subject, that it was growing in many minds, and would perhaps have reached its present importance without Andrew Combe. Within twelve months of the appear- ance of Physiology applied to Health and Education, Southwood Smith published his Philosophy of Health. Chadwick was already labouring in the same field, though the results were not promulgated till two or three years afterwards ; and the numerous lectures, &c. that almost immediately appeared both in England and America, show how extensively the subject had been working ; for they were too sound and able for mere trading imitators. But if An- drew Combo might have had competitors in priority, he had none in popular attractiveness ; and his three principal publica- tions on Physiology, Digestion, and the Management of Infancy, stand alone, though in different degrees, for their popular exposition of medical, physiological, and hygienic science. To have aided in popularizing the laws of health and advancIng the science of hygie–ne, is a ivery_great merit ; and the individual is entitled to greater praise when he had himself to pertinaciously struggle with ill health. The merit is not, however, of the rarest order : nor does it inspire so much biographical interest as is felt in some cases. The great poet, the great hero, the great philosopher, excite so much interest that trifles unimport- ant in themselves become attractive from their -connexion -with the person; though if these details are numerous there would be a limit -to their biographical use, even in the case of Shakspere. With the great majority of lives, everything that is not of some •bio- graphical consequence, or of some strong character in itself, is out of place, fatiguing the attention and flattening the effect. From not attending to this rule, Mr. George Combe has somewhat over- laid the biography ; very naturally, indeed, for a brother, and a brother -whose steady kindness to Andrew, while he needed it, took a paternal character; but this reason for the error does not produce much countervailing effect upon the reader. In an anxiety-to do full justice to his subject, which from the preface seems to have almost reached a morbid feeling, Mr. Combe has crowded his volume with passages from printed or published productions of Andrew, or with letters of the nature of essays and disquisitions, and -some- 4imes on topics where he had already given the -world the -pith Of his opinion in a more matured form. The annual accounts of his brother's health and t,opios connected therewith, to which -some of his friends to whom he submitted a portion of the -volume objected, are certainly too detailed ; and the distinction between what is es- sential to the life andllie case, and -what is insignificant or acci- dental, is not sufficiently observed. But the ill-health of Dr. Combe, the manner in which he wrestled with it, -the effect it doubtless had in directing his attention to the hygidnic'prinoiples on which his celebrity was founded, and the miens manner-in -which he managed to .prolong his life, were so strikingly bio- graphical, that .fulness here was necessary ; though more care in the selection of information might have been -desirable. The phre- nological matter is the greatest drawback to general pleasure. Phrenology does not seem to us to have done so-much for the-for- mation of Andrew Combe's intellectual and medical character as he and his brother George -suppose -; but his zeal in the cause intro- duced him to the public, by inducing him to -write more than he -otherwise might have done ; while by connecting him with -a busy, jealous, energetic sect, his name was more noised abroad than it would have been had lie continued in - the quiet catholicism of science. The objection, however, is not to phrenology, hut to the mode in which it is managed. Lucan " stops his narrative for a wise remark" : George -Combe suspends his biography for a dis- quisition or application of phrenology ; and he does it in that strange tongue which.has allalong exposed the new science to the .ridicule of .sooffers.

Andrew Combe was born in 1797, at Edinburgh, where his father carried on the business of a brewer. He first 'went to -a private school, then to the High School, and lastly to the College of his own romantic town ; without learning much eitherin English, The Life and Correspondence of Andrew Combe, M.D., 'Fellow .of the Royal College of Physicians of-Edinburgh; one of the Physicians in Ordinary,in.+catland. to the Queen, &e. &c. By George Combe. Published by Longman and Co.; and by Itlaelactelan and Stewart, 'Edinburgh.

Latin, Greek, or the mathematics; all which is duly accounted for by his biographer on phrenological principles. in his fifteenth year, it was deemed proper that Andrew should choose a vocation. The choice was left to himself; but he preferred illustrating the gram- matical paradox that two negatives make an affirmative; replying

to all questions, " no be naething." The ears of the family, unaccustomed to such refinements of speech, dropped the first negative and were pnzzled. His lather interpreted it into an approval of his own choice -of the medical profession, and -pro- ceeded to make an arrangement with Mr. Johnston, then an emi- nent general practitioner in Edinburgh. "'The 9th day of April 1812 was fixed .for his entry to Air. Johnston's establishment, and he was desired to dress himself for the occasion. His father was prepared to accompany him and introduce him. Andrew was sullen, dirinotg, and said nothing. His brother Georges who was nine years older than himsplf and had readied to manhood, still lived in his lather's house. He saw ■Bithregret thisnupleasant state of affairs, and took an earnest and active part in endeavouring to induce Andrew to enter on his profession. His father assured Andrew, that if he would name any .other vocation which he preferred, he shouldnot he asked to move one atop an the intended career : but no answer was returned. George solicited and obtained his father's solemn promise, which was never known to be broken, that if Andrew would make trial of Mr. Johnston's establishment kir one day, he should not be desired to return if ho disliked it. Still no answer was gram As an appointment for ten o'clock had been made with Mr. Johnston, and his time was valuable, it became necessary either to resort to compulsion, or to abandon the arrangement altogether. It was, however, against all rulein

the family to permit evasion of what was re as a duty, merely because the thing to be done was disagreeable ; as the kindest assurances had

been given and no:reason assignedfor opposition, force -wriest Last resorted.to. An attempt was made to substitute Andrew's best coat and vest for the house- garments in 'which he was dressed, and he resisted; but his resistance was overcome. A new consultation was now held as to what was to be done; and again it 'was resolved that Andrew should not he allowed to conquer, seeing that he stillassigned no reason for his resistance. Ile was therefore lifted from the ground ; he refused to stand; but his father supported one shoulder, George carried the other, and his younger brother James pushed him on behind; and in this fashion he was carried from the house, through the brewery, and several hundred yards:along the high-road, baforeheplaced afoot an the ground. His elder brother John, observing what was passing, anxiously-inquired, `'What's-the-matter?' James replied, We are taking Andrew to -the Doctor.' 'To the Doctor !—what's the matter with him ? is he ill?' 'Jaines—' Oh, not at all; we are-taking him to snake him a doctor: At last Andrew's sense of shame prevailed, and he walked .quietty. His father and George -accompanied him to Mr. Johnston's house. Andrew was introduced and received, and his fatherleft -him. George in. aired what had passed in 'Mr. Johnston's presence. "Nothing particular,' re 'ed his father; 4 only- my conscience smote me when Mr. Johnston 'ho e -a t Andrew had comequite willingly !' I-replied, that I had given ' a solemn promise that if he did not like the profession after atrial, he should be at liberty to leave it.' "Quite right,' said Mr. 'Johnston; and Andrew was conducted to the laboratory.

"Andrew returned to Hr. johnstcails next momlng without being asked to do -so ; and to thellayof his death he was fond of his profession.

He subsequently stated as a reason for this conduct, that he wanted a holyday before beinning to dispense the medicines for Mr. Johnston's patients : to acquire which aneelinnieni &neck, was nearly all he picked up under that gentleman, except -a little workhouse practice towards the close of his time.

The medical education of Andrew .Combe was really begun is the hospital and at the lectures of Edinburgh, and finally com- pleted. at Paris ; whither he went.in. 1817, and remained till 1619. During the period of student life, he became a convert to Irene- logy-; improved his •neglected education; and made a tour ugh Switzerland. Symptoms of consumption in his constitution now became manifest. On his return to Scotland, he remained with his friends long enough to assist in founding the Phrenological Society; but his health-was too precarious to justify his entering into practice. For two years he was .a confirmed invalid; travel- ling about with the seasons in search of a climate that -suited him, wintering once at. Leghorn and once at Marseilles. In 1823.his health was so much improved that he Ivan practice in Edinburgh. From this period to his death in 1847, the life :of Dr. Combe was a long struggle with disease, relieved by a few years' in- terval of health. His shrewdness, his sense, his conscientious at- tention, coupled perhaps with a local literary celebrity as a medico- phrenological writer in the Journal, gradually introduced him into practice. But in 1831 severe pulmonary affection again manifested itself. He had again to winter in Italy ; and it was some years before he resumed the practice of his profession, if indeed he eon be said ever to have renewed it. He was tolerably well as long as he avoided exposure ; but cold, exertion, or indeed any unfavourable circumstances, -threw him back. The re .;on he acquired bff

his medical works 'brought-patients about , who subniitted 'to

such conditions as his complaint rendered necessary; andperhaps his appointment in 1836 as Physician to the King of the Belgians was not without influence in this respect.. The appointment, how- ever, was rather hygienic than medical ; for Dr. Combe.fearedla -live in Brussels when he gotthere, and only occasionally visited it to inspect and advise with the Itoi-al Emily tonehing-their health and the site and condition of their *daces. In 1-838, he was .pointed toto the honorary office of _Physician Extraordinary to the -IQueen in :Scotland:; and by --clintoof management, -contrived te .mom on 'till 1842, -when his 'health finally gave way. The two -next -winters he spent in Madeira, passing the summers in gentle ex- cursions ; butafter 1844 it was deemed better that he should winter in Edinburgh, withan artificial atmosphere and. all the- plismees of modern skill, and among his friende,rather.than be jested to the discomfort of travelling and the absence of home comforts, -when convalescence was out of the question and death.liliely to oc- cur at any time. He held on -till the autumn .of 1847, 'when .diarrhcea setin .and tarried limaff.rapidly. .Duringtheee sixteen yeas ,of some Alitessaanclieuninentidaeib,

Dr. Combo produced his best works; perhaps, indeed, his illness was a cause of them. He accumulated his materials by slow ob- servation, and slowly wrought them up : in full health and full ice he might have continued to throw off an article for the

nological Journal or some friend's Review, but ho could hardly have found time to produce volumes upon the following mode of composition, as he describes it ina letter to hisfriend Sir James Clark.

" You need not fear my hurting myself with writing : and, by the way, you amuse me by envying my facility in writing. Know, then, that many a time and oft I have envied you in this respect. I have no such facility in composing, especially since my infirm health. Witness the fact that my re- view of your book took me upwards of three weeks, laying aside all other composition; and such is the proportion of time to all other subjects, even though I am familiar with them. You have probably formed this notion from my book on Digestion having appeared in about a year from its an- nouncement; but, in reality, it and my former volume are the work of years. So long ago as 1824 r had begun to write the latter, [the Physiology,] and threw it aside in despair of making it intelligible. It happened, how- ever, that from an early period I had many consultations and advises to give in writing to patients who lived much in the country, or who called for me while passing a short time in Edinburgh, and also to strangers whom I never saw. For the sake of easy reference, as well as to preserve a record, I at last got a copying-machine, and for six years past have taken a copy by it of all my business letters; and thus there is scarcely a remark in my whole writings that does not directly or indirectly come out of that cm. espondence, and consequently out of actual observation • and it is this practical quality, I believe, which makes my writings interest so many readers. Here, too, you will observe, I have materials for writing which save me much trouble and it was only from the frequent assurances of my correspondents that what I said was level to their comprehensions, and of much interest to their minds, that at length I ventured to prepare and publish the first volume!'

Dr. Combe seems to have thought that his stamina was injured by the physical and mental training he underwent at home ; 'the family being strict both in the domestic and. religions discipline. This opinion is supported by George ; who thus describes a family Sunday—a very common one in Scotland half a century ago.

"To complete the picture of domestic lifeat Livingston's Yards, it remains only to mention the Sunday's occupations and discipline. The gate of the brewery was locked, and all except the most necessary work was suspended. The children rose at eight, breakfasted at nine, and were taken to the, West Church at eleven. The forenoon's service lasted till one. There was a lunch between one and two. The afternoon's service lasted from two till four. They then dined ; and after dinner portions of Psalms and of the Shorter Catechism with the Proofs' were prescribed to be learned by heart. After these had been repeated, tea was served.' Next the children sat round a table and read the Bible aloud, each a verse in turn, till a chapter for every reader bad been completed. After this, sermons or other pious works were read till nine o'clock, when supper was served; after which all retired to rest. Jaded and exhausted in brain and body as the children were by the performance of heavy tasks at school during six days in the week, these Sundays shone no

days of rest to them." •

We have spoken of the biography as a whole, and as a work of art. Viewed merely as a book, it abounds in-matter and informa- tion of various kinds, and in passing pictures' of society from the pens of both brothers. Subjected to a searching revisal, it would form a very capital work ; as the valuable portions which are now overlaid by the extraneous matter would then stand out with full effect. These extra-biographical passages consist of pictures of men and things at home and abroad; of many travelling sketches in Andrew Combo's letters from foreign parts ; in sound medical advice and opinions; and in many matters too diversified to class. Such is this story of the use of phrenological science.

" In the course of Andrew's residence in Paris, M. S--- [a foreign friend] introduced to his daughter a lover whom he regarded as worthy to receive her hand, and to inherit his fortune - but, unfortunately for the old gentle- man's choice, the young lady had already found a lover for herself, to whom she was warmly attached ; and as she had taken her mother into her con- fidence, she now appealed to her for support. The mother, after seeing both suitors, greatly preferred Eugenie's choice ; but the father's friend held a superior socialposition to that of his rival, and was therefore strongly sup- ported by the father. " During Dr. Combe's visits to the family they had frequently been struck by the acute and correct descriptions which, with the aid of phrenology, he gave them of the talents and dispositions of individuals whom he met in their circle, and whom they knew intimately.; and as both parents loved Eugenie dearly and aimed only at her happiness, they took him into their counsels, and asked him to examine the heads of the two lovers, and to ad- vise them honestly and confidentially which was the superior man. He did so, and reported that the father's friend was by nature selfish, cunning, and ambitious ; while Eugenie's choice, in whom a good development of the intellectual was united to a large development of the moral organs, evidently was the higher natural character of the two. The father having, it is be- lieved, subsequently discovered the true character of his candidate, yielded ; and in the course of timt Eugenie and her lover were married."

The following is from a letter to one of the Doctor's sisters-in- law, an American and red-hot Republican, who had favoured him with a liberty letter.

" I believe a republican form of government to be that intended for man in the maturity of his civilization ; but I should as soon attempt to put,the -garments of manhood on the child and the boy, as desiderata a republic for any existing European nation in its present state of advancement. It would be a black day for Britain were the masses, with their present qualifications and habits, made the depositories of extreme power; and whatever may be the course of events in America, I trust Providence in its wrath will not afflict us with a republic till we are better prepared for the high and right exercise of its powers and privileges. In your eloquent denunciation of kings, nobles, and dignified clergy, you are far too exclusive. I do not vene- rate mere rank any more than you do, but neither can I regard its possessors as worse than any aggregate number of the sovereign people.'ay, I am so heterodox as to believe, that if you would put the same power into the bands of the said sovereign people, the latter would abuse it in a still more reckless and tyrannical fashion ; just because, not being used to it, they would fulfil the old adage, Put a beggar on horseback, and he will ride to the Devil'

" I confess, moreover, that even your animated description of the pure in- dependent spirit and unbiassed judgment of a free-born American citizen does not in the least excite my envy ; for every American newspaper which I have ever opened placed before me ample evidence of the existence and activity of the same evil and selfish passions on your side of the water

which we perceive and deplore here • and if ever you come over to the Land of Cakes, I dare say you will not discover that your liberty of speech is in any way abridged, even although we have a Queen instead of a President for our executive. But that kings are really of more use than you Republicans imagine, I can bear ocular evidence. During my late visit to Brussels, I lived fourteen days in the palace, and spent on an average. one and a half or two hours daily with their Majeeties or the children ; visiting the one after the other, I mean. During that time, the Km' g was engaged in mental la- bour nearly eight hours a day; and on my remonstrating, as he was infirm in his health, he said, It is truth ; but what can I do ? the business must be done.' The question between Belgium and Holland was then in agita- tion; and the universal feeling in the country was, that there was not a man in it except the King who united the' knowledge, prudence, firmness, tact, and energy, required to effect a settlement; and that, consequently, the safety of Belgium and the prevention of a general war depended on the health, life, and character of that one man. Hurl him from his throne, and you inflict misery on millions now prosperous and happy. This was the tes- timony not only of adherents but of political opponents ; and as I purposely travelled through the greater part of Belgium, I was struck with the great advance made in two short years, and with the warmth of devotion gene- rally felt for him."