The History of Burke and Hare Part 10

His friendly relationship with certain members of the police force was emphasised by a statement that he was in the habit of going home at any hour of the night or morning, always accompanied by the constable on the beat, to whom he gave a gla.s.s or two of whisky out of a bottle he carried with him, and it was urged that an inquiry should be made into this breach of discipline.

Such were the items of gossip about Burke, to which publicity was given by the newspapers, but a charge of a serious kind was made against Mrs. Hare in the issue of the _Courant_ published on the 1st January, 1829. It was stated that Mrs. Hare, after Log's death, and at the beginning of her relationship with Hare, bore a child, which the people of the neighbourhood a.s.serted was murdered by her. So confidently was this allegation put forward that it was added that there would be no difficulty in obtaining sufficient evidence to establish a case against her for destroying the life of the infant. A singular fact was mentioned in the same paper in connection with Hare. His mother and sister from Ireland arrived in Edinburgh a day or two before, purposing to visit him, and it was not until they were within two miles of the city that they were apprised of the fact that he was involved in a series of the most shocking murders. Another statement was that Hare, in the course of the summer of 1828, had murdered a young woman who was a servant to one of the city clergymen. This, if true, would point to the ident.i.ty of the body over the proceeds from the sale of which Burke quarrelled with his colleague.

Another person who came in for a share of public attention was Constantine Burke, the brother of the condemned man, in whose house in the Canongate, it has been seen, Mary Paterson was murdered. After the trial he was continually in danger of being maltreated by the mob, and at last the Sheriff gave him a small sum of money to enable him and his family to leave the city. According to the _Courant_, Constantine had always been a sober, industrious, poverty-pressed man. He admitted having once taken a chest to Surgeon's Square, being conducted to the place by his brother and Hare, although he was not aware of its contents or its destination.

Receiving ten shillings for his trouble, he suspected his employers were resurrectionists, and he then declared he would do no work for them again.

While all these stories were in circulation, thoughtful persons were considering the revelations in their most practical bearing. They admitted the necessity for teachers of anatomy being supplied with a sufficient number of subjects for dissection, for it was apparent that had the legitimate supply been adequate, there would have been little temptation to any one to enter upon a career of crime. Theories were started as to how the evident defect was to be remedied, letters on all aspects of the subject were sent to the newspapers, and a wordy battle was fought out.

Amid all this clamour, on the 5th of January, 1829, several of the anatomical teachers in Edinburgh had an interview with the Lord Advocate; and on the 7th of the same month the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons held a meeting at which they pa.s.sed resolutions expressing regret that anatomical instruction, which they conscientiously believed to be an essential part in the education of medical men, should ever have furnished a temptation to such unexampled atrocities, and calling upon the Legislature to remove the restrictions under which such instruction was then given.

This, however, was only one side of the question, and the resolutions, right and proper in themselves, only served to inflame the public mind, for they showed that bodies obtained at least in a surrept.i.tious manner were being used. Other incidents added to the general excitement. Several boys, belonging to respectable families, disappeared suddenly, and the conclusion at once jumped at by their despairing relatives was that they had been stolen away to supply the dissecting tables of the teachers of anatomy. No other explanation seemed at all tenable, until the missing lads were discovered, some days later, in a village some miles from Edinburgh, whither they had gone to hawk broadside or pamphlet accounts of the trial of Burke and M'Dougal. Another matter which gave additional cause for anxiety was an attempt to steal the body of a man from a house in Edinburgh. Early on the morning of Tuesday, the 20th January, some pa.s.sers-by observed a curious-looking package being lowered by means of a rope from the upper window of the house. On examination, it was found to be the body of a man named M'Donald, better known locally as "Nosey," on account of the size of his nasal organ, who had died the day before. The thieves had broken into the house, where the corpse was lying unattended, and were in the act of removing it when the discovery was made. They managed to escape by the back of the house and were never captured.

This desultory chapter may be brought to a close by an interesting item regarding Mrs. Docherty, the last victim of the West Port murderers, to which publicity was given by the _Glasgow Herald_ shortly after the conclusion of the trial. "The poor woman Sally Docherty or Campbell," it was stated, "was well known amongst the inhabitants of the Old Wynd, Glasgow, about two years ago, where she kept a lodging-house for indigent people. She was a thin-faced woman, generally wore a red duffle-cloak, and had, of course, experienced a great deal of hardships in the station of life to which she was habituated. At the period alluded to, she had a son, a shoemaker, and a young man for a husband, of the name of Campbell. The last time she appeared in the Glasgow police office was as the complainer against this fellow, who is still living, for demolishing all the crockery, and pulling down her grate from the fire-place." It was in search of the son mentioned in this notice that Mrs. Docherty went to Edinburgh, where she met with a death the violent nature of which was not inconsistent with the sad life she had lived. But it is a remarkable fact that while the murder of this poor woman was the crime which led to the discovery of the dreadful conspiracy in which Burke and Hare were engaged, and to the execution of the former, the popular mind speedily lost hold of the fact, and oral tradition in many parts of the country--in the city of Edinburgh itself--even to this day, has it that Burke suffered the last penalty of the law on the scaffold for the murder of Daft Jamie.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

_Burke's Spiritual Condition--The Erection of the Scaffold--The Criminals Last Hours--Scene at the Execution--Behaviour of the People._

The hour for the closing scene of the Burke and Hare tragedy was now almost come, and Burke, to all appearance, seemed to regard his approaching fate with composure. He is even reported to have declared that had a pardon been offered him he would have refused it; but, if the story is true, it is more likely that the firm conviction that a pardon would not be granted had as much to do with the remark as any sentiment of resignation. It was simply a case of bowing before the inevitable. And so far as the outward affairs of religion were concerned the condemned man was very attentive, though it could not be said that he looked forward to eternity with hope, or, if he did, he kept his feelings very much to himself. A large section of the people, always inclined for dogmatic discussion on religious matters, found full scope for their critical powers in the consideration of Burke's spiritual state. The rank and unbending Calvinists argued that a new spiritual birth was, under the circ.u.mstances, if possible--and on that point they were doubtful--not at all probable; while the Armenians, with a wider theology, thought in the words of the Paraphrase:--

"As long as life its term extends, Hope's blest dominion never ends; For while the lamp holds on to burn, The greatest sinner may return."

Theologians, however, could discuss as much as they liked, but it was never certain whether Burke's spiritual state was such as to give reason for hope.

The execution, it has already been seen, was fixed to take place on Wednesday, the 28th January, 1829, and to this event the people had looked forward with a ghastly satisfaction. Indeed, so high did public feeling run that the authorities deemed it prudent to remove Burke from Calton Hill Jail to the lock-up in Liberton's Wynd at four o'clock on the morning of Tuesday, the 27th January, the day before the execution. This was absolutely necessary, as, had the removal taken place at a time when the people were about, or were expecting it, the probability was that, instead of undergoing a judicial execution, Burke would have been torn to pieces by an infuriated mob. The long confinement in prison had not changed his appearance much. He was given a black suit in which to appear on the scaffold, and this afforded him some consolation. Shortly after noon on the same day, preparations were begun at the place of execution in the Lawnmarket. Strong poles were fixed in the street, to support the chain by which the crowd was to be kept back, and on this occasion the s.p.a.ce was considerably larger than usual. The work progressed, witnessed by a large crowd, which gradually swelled in size, as the excited people came to see the erection of the structure that was to work legal vengeance on a hated murderer. As the night went on, and the work approached completion, the rain fell heavily, but the crowd, notwithstanding, showed no diminution; and whenever any important part of the erection was finished they raised an approving cheer. About half-past ten o'clock the frame of the gibbet was brought to the spot, and its appearance was the signal for a tremendous shout. It was quickly put in its place, for the men did their work with a grim satisfaction, and when all was completed, the crowd, as a contemporary newspaper put it, "evinced their abhorrence of the monster Burke, and all concerned in the West Port murders, by three tremendous cheers; and these were heard as far away as Princes Street." This was about two o'clock in the morning, and, wet and dismal though it was, those anxious to see Burke suffer for his crimes were beginning to take up their places. Closes and stairs were quickly packed by intending sight-seers, who preferred to remain outside all morning than run the risk of being disappointed by arriving late. By seven o'clock the vicinity of the scaffold was occupied by one of the densest crowds until that time witnessed on the streets of Edinburgh--from 20,000 to 25,000 persons were calculated to be present--many of the best people in the city being among them. Every window giving a view of the place of execution had been bought up some days previous, the price paid varying, according to the excellence of the view, from five to twenty shillings. "The scene at this time," said the writer already quoted, "was deeply impressive. No person could without emotion survey such a vast a.s.semblage, so closely wedged together, gazing on the fatal apparatus, and waiting in anxious and solemn silence the arrival of the worst of murderers."

Matters, meanwhile, had been going on quietly inside the prison. Burke had, during the day, been visited by the Rev. Messrs. Reid and Stewart, two priests of the Roman Catholic Church, and the Rev. Messrs. Porteous and Marshall, Protestant ministers, and he received their spiritual consolations calmly, but without much apparent benefit, though he lamented his connection with the murders to which he had confessed. He slept soundly the greater part of that night, and rose about five o'clock on the Wednesday morning. Shortly after wakening he held up his hands, and remarked, with an earnestness that struck his attendants, "Oh, that the hour was come which shall separate me from this world!" This was thoroughly dramatic, but whether it proceeded from a weariness of this life and a hope for a better, can never be known. An incident even more dramatic, but similar in character, occurred shortly afterwards. He had been placed in irons shortly after his condemnation, and he now expressed a desire to be freed from them. The men proceeded to knock them off, and the fetters fell with a "clank" on the floor of the cell. "So may all my earthly chains fall!" exclaimed Burke. These remarks, whatever his spiritual condition, showed that he was a man, however debased by a terrible course of wickedness, of considerable education and natural refinement. About half past six o'clock the two Catholic clergymen who had been so attentive to him arrived at the lock-up, and for half an hour he was closeted with Mr. Reid. Then he entered the keepers room, and sat down for a short time in an arm-chair by the side of the fire, deeply immersed in thought--that his meditations were saddening was apparent by the heavy sighs that came now and then from his breast. He was at last fairly in the presence of death; but the law was more merciful to him than he had been to his victims--he was given time to prepare for the awful change, but they were hurled in the midst of their sins, drunken and unrepentant, into eternity. Bailies Small and Crichton had meantime entered the jail, and the two priests commenced the last religious exercises. The condemned man joined in the devotions with apparent fervour, and he seemed much affected by the exhortation to "confide in the mercy of G.o.d." After that he retired to an adjoining apartment, but on the way he was met by Williams, the executioner, who accosted him in an unceremonious manner. Burke waved him away, remarking, "I am not just ready for you yet," but Williams followed him, and set about the work of pinioning. The criminal submitted to the operation without a movement, and simply remarked that his handkerchief was tied behind. When this was done he accepted a gla.s.s of wine which was offered him, and on putting it to his lips he looked around, and gave his last toast--"Farewell to all my friends!" For a few minutes he talked with the Protestant ministers, and then the magistrates, dressed in their official robes, re-entered the room, with their rods in their hands.

Burke, seeing the end had now come, expressed his grat.i.tude to the magistrates, and especially to Bailie Small, for their kindness to him, and also to the prison and lock-up officials. The solemn procession then formed, and marched out of the jail to the scaffold.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WILLIAM HARE. (From a Sketch taken in Court)]

Burke was supported on either side, as he walked up Liberton's Wynd towards the Lawnmarket, by the Catholic priests, and he leaned on the arm of Mr. Reid. The two bailies headed the procession, and whenever they made their appearance the enormous crowd sent up one loud and simultaneous shout. The condemned man was affected by this outburst of popular feeling, and, as if afraid the mob might break through the barriers and tear him to pieces, he made haste to ascend the scaffold. His appearance there was the signal for another yell of execration from the mult.i.tude. Shouts of "Burke him," "choke him," "No mercy, hangie," came from all sides; but otherwise the crowd showed no signs of interfering. They wished to see the hangman do his duty properly--if he did so, they had no particular desire to take part in the work. Burke looked round somewhat defiantly, and then quietly kneeled down by the side of one of the priests, and engaged in devotional exercises for a few minutes; after which the Rev. Mr. Marshall offered up a short prayer. This solemn ceremony, however, found small favour with the spectators--they wished to see the culprit, and the kneeling kept him out of their view, so they cried out to the persons on the scaffold, "Stand out of the way," "Turn him round;" and though the magistrates intimated by signs as well as they could the nature of the ceremony that was going on, the clamour still continued, and there were frequent shouts of "Hare, Hare, bring out Hare! Hang Knox, he's a _noxious morsel_!" and others of a similar kind. About ten minutes had now gone, and the crowd was becoming impatient. After he had completed his devotions, Burke lifted the silk handkerchief upon which he had been kneeling, and put it in his pocket. He gave a glance up to the gallows, and then stepped on the drop with a firm step. The executioner proceeded to adjust the rope round his neck, and his confessor said to him, "Now say your creed; and when you come to the words, 'Lord Jesus Christ,' give the signal, and die with his blessed name on your lips." The shouts from the crowd still continued, and the people, out of their better reason by the excitement, cried out, "Burke him; give him no rope;" "Do the same for Hare;" "Weigh them together;" "Wash the blood from the land;" and "You'll see Daft Jamie in a minute." Williams then tried to loosen Burke's neckerchief, but he found some difficulty in doing so, and the condemned man said, "The knot's behind." These were the only words Burke uttered on the scaffold. The rope was then adjusted, a white cotton night-cap was put on his head and pulled over his face, and Burke, with an air of firmness, began the recitation of the creed. When he came to the holy name he gave the signal, the bolt was drawn, and the greatest murderer of his time--except, perhaps, his a.s.sociate Hare--was swinging on the gallows.

The mult.i.tude set up a fearful yell, and every time the body of the dying man gave a convulsive twitch the crowd cheered to the echo. An eye witness said--"He struggled a good deal, and put out his legs as if to catch something with his feet; but some of the undertaker's men, who were beneath the drop, took him by the feet, and sent him spinning round--a motion which was continued until he was drawn up above the level of the scaffold." It was now fully a quarter past eight o'clock, and Burke had been "separated from this world." The body was allowed to hang until five minutes to nine o'clock, when the executioner cut it down amid the gloating yells of the people. They made a rush forward to the scaffold as if to lay hold of the corpse of the murderer, but they were kept back by the strong force of policemen who lined the barriers. The a.s.sistants at the scaffold, too, seemed to be affected by the general frenzy, and a scramble took place among them for portions of the rope, or shavings from the coffin, or any thing that would serve as a relic of the closing scene of the West Port murders--the great Burke and Hare tragedies. The body was conveyed to the lock-up, and the large crowd dispersed, without a single mishap having occurred, though the people still laboured under intense excitement, which even an accident might divert in a dangerous direction.

CHAPTER XXIX.

_Lecture on Burke's Body--Riot among the Students--Excitement in Edinburgh--The Public Exhibition--Dissection of the Body of the Murderer--Phrenological Developments of Burke and Hare._

It was certainly a strange conclusion to the West Port tragedies that the man who had been so active a partic.i.p.ant in them, and who had a.s.sisted in supplying so many "subjects" for dissection, should himself, after death--a death also by strangulation--become a "subject" of more than ordinary interest. Not only was that the case, but the public exhibition of the body, while it may be regarded as being in a sense an act of retributive justice, displays a certain amount of barbarity of feeling and sentiment which it is difficult to believe could have existed in this country so short a time ago as fifty years. The rapid advance made by all cla.s.ses during that period is generally admitted, but it should be borne in mind, in reference to the events now about to be described, that only a few years ago public executions were common, and that the change in the manner caused among certain cla.s.ses some little irritation. The propriety of having executions in private is now fully and freely acknowledged, but having regard to the comparatively recent change we should not look upon our respected fathers and grandfathers as altogether barbarous.

But pa.s.sing from the line of thought suggested by the events that followed Burke's execution, the thread of the narrative may be continued. The body, as already stated, was conveyed from the scaffold to the lock-up, and there it remained until the next morning. It was expected it would be taken to the College during the day, and a large crowd surrounded the building. The motive of the people may have been simple curiosity, but the authorities, being afraid the rougher part of the crowd, if they obtained an opportunity, might seize the body and treat it with scant respect, deemed it proper to delay the removal until such time as it could be done with safety. This was done early on Thursday morning, when the excited populace was asleep. The body was laid out on a table, and several eminent scientists--among them Mr. Liston, Mr. George Combe, Sir William Hamilton, and Mr. Joseph, the sculptor--who took a cast for a bust--examined it before the students began to gather.

Leighton, who seems to have seen the body, says it was "that of a thick-set muscular man, with a bull-neck, great development about the upper parts, with immense thighs and calves, so full as to have the appearance of globular ma.s.ses. The countenance, as we saw it, was very far from being placid, as commonly represented, if you could not have perceived easily that there remained upon it the bitter expression of the very scorn with which he had looked upon that world which pushed him out of it, as having in his person defaced the image of his Maker." He supplements this by a sentence from the notes of another eye-witness:--"He (Burke) was one of the most symmetrical men I ever saw, finely-developed muscles, and finely-formed, of the athlete cla.s.s."

Dr. Munro, in the afternoon of the day the body was removed to the College, gave a lecture upon it, and for this purpose the upper part of the head was sawn off, and the brain exposed. The brain was described as being unusually soft, but it was pointed out that a peculiar softness was by no means uncommon in criminals who had suffered the last penalty of the law. While this lecture was going on a large number of students had a.s.sembled in the quadrangle of the College, and clamoured for admission.

Those who were ent.i.tled to be present at the cla.s.s, opening at one o'clock in the afternoon, were provided with tickets, but owing to the greatness of the crowd it was with the utmost difficulty that these could be made available, even with the a.s.sistance of the police. At last all the ticket-holders were admitted, and then the doors were thrown open to as many of the other students as the room would accommodate. Many, however, were left outside. The lecture began at the regular hour, but the nature of the subject caused it to extend over two hours, instead of the usual time. Meanwhile, the crowd in the quadrangle had grown so unruly that a strong body of police had to be called to preserve order. Instead of keeping the youths in awe, this display of force rather exasperated them, and they made several attempts to overpower the constables. In the course of the struggle the gla.s.s in the windows of the dissecting room was destroyed. The police had to use their staves, and many of the combatants on both sides were injured, some of them rather seriously. The Lord Provost and Bailie Small, the college bailie, put in an appearance, thinking their presence would have a salutary effect, but they were glad to retire with whole bones under the abuse that was showered upon them.

The disturbance continued until four o'clock, when Professor Christison came to the rescue. He intimated that he had arranged for the admission of the young men in bands of fifty at a time, and had given his own personal guarantee for their good behaviour. This was an appeal to their honour, which is always found to be effectual with a crowd of students, however riotously inclined, and in the present instance the youths cheered the professor l.u.s.tily. The tumult ceased, and some of the ringleaders, who had been apprehended by the police, were liberated on their parole by the magistrates.

The students were thus pacified, but it was far otherwise with the city mob. There had been a restlessness throughout Edinburgh all day, and it was threatened that unless the public were admitted to view the corpse an attack would be made on the college, and the remains of the murderer taken out and torn to pieces. The manner in which the students had gained their end was quite after the mind of the discontents, and in their case it was, owing to greater numbers, likely to be more quickly successful. The magistrates were in a quandary, but they came to the conclusion that it would be better to have a public view, and in this way endeavour to allay the tumultuous spirit that was abroad. Accordingly, they sent out scouts among the crowds that thronged the streets to intimate their decision, and by this means the people were induced to return home.

Those who witnessed the scene at the College of Edinburgh on Friday, the 30th January, 1829, would never readily forget it. The magistrates and the university authorities had made the most elaborate preparations for exhibiting the body of Burke. It was placed naked on a black marble table in the anatomical theatre, and a through pa.s.sage was arranged for the accommodation of the visitors. The upper part of the skull, which had been sawn off for the purposes of the lecturer on the preceding day, was replaced, and to the uninitiated it was unlikely that what was apparently a slight scar would be much noticed. "The spectacle," says Leighton, who saw it, "was sufficiently ghastly to gratify the most epicurean appet.i.te for horrors. There was as yet no sign of corruption, so that the death pallor, as it contrasted with the black marble table, showed strongly to the inquiring and often revolting eye; but the face had become more blue, and the shaved head, with marks of blood not entirely wiped off, rather gave effect to the grin into which the features had settled at the moment of death. However inviting to lovers of this kind of the picturesque the broad chest that had lain with deadly pressure on so many victims--the large thighs and round calves, indicating so much power--it was the face, embodying a petrified scowl, and the wide-staring eyes, so fixed and spectre-like, to which the attention was chiefly directed." It was to see this sight that the people crowded the streets of the Old Town of Edinburgh, and made it appear as if the occasion were one of general holiday. The doors of the anatomy theatre were thrown open at ten o'clock in the forenoon, and from that hour until dusk the crowd streamed through the narrow pa.s.sage in front of the body at the rate, it was calculated, of sixty per minute, so that the total number who viewed it in this way was about twenty-five thousand. The crowd was composed for the most part of men, though some seven or eight women pressed in among the rest, but they were roughly handled by the male spectators, and had their clothing torn.

Notwithstanding this extraordinary number there were still many who did not obtain admittance, and in the hope that the exhibition would be continued on the Sat.u.r.day, many returned to the college next day, but to their great disappointment they were refused admission. This was Burke's last appearance.

An informant of Leighton gives the following interesting notice of the subsequent treatment of the body of the murderer:--"After this exhibition Burke was cut up and put in pickle for the lecture-table. He was cut up in quarters, or rather portions, and salted, and, with a strange aptness of poetical justice, put into barrels. At that time an early acquaintance and school-fellow was a.s.sistant to the professor, and with him I frequently visited the dissecting-room, when calling on him at his apartments in the College. He is now a physician in the Ca.r.s.e of Gowrie. He shewed me Burke's remains, and gave me the skin of his _neck_ and of the right arm.

These I had _tanned_--the neck brown, and the arm white. The white was as pure as white kid, but as thick as white sheepskin; and the brown was like brown tanned sheepskin. It was curious that the mark of the rope remained on the leather after being tanned. Of that neck-leather I had a tobacco-doss made; and on the white leather of the right arm I got Johnston to print the portraits of Burke and his wife, and Hare, which I gave to the noted antiquarian and collector of curiosities, Mr. Fraser, jeweller, and it was in one of his cases for many years, may be still, if he is alive."

Burke's body was thus destroyed, but the qualities which were denoted by the developments of his head gave rise to an excited discussion between phrenologists and their opponents. Combe, the apostle of phrenology, and Sir William Hamilton, the metaphysician, with their followers, waged a terrible war of words over the conclusions to be drawn from the measurements of Burke's head. This is not the place to renew the discussion, but in view of the importance of the question, an estimate of the phrenological development of Burke, published at the time, may be quoted. The account reads thus:--

PHRENOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT OF BURKE.

_Measurement._ INCHES.

Circ.u.mference of the Head, 221 From the occipital spine to lower Individuality, 77 From the ear to lower Individuality, 5 From ditto to the centre of Philoprogenitiveness, 48 From ditto to Firmness, 54 From ditto to Benevolence, 57 From ditto to Veneration, 55 From ditto to Conscientiousness, 5 From Destructiveness to Destructiveness, 6125 From Cautiousness to Cautiousness, 53 From Ideality to Ideality, 46 From Acquisitiveness to Acquisitiveness, 58 From Secretiveness to Secretiveness, 57 From Combativeness to Combativeness, 55

_Development._

"Amativeness, very large. Philoprogenitiveness, full. Concentrativeness, deficient. Adhesiveness, full. Combativeness, large. Destructiveness, very large. Constructiveness, moderate. Acquisitiveness, large. Secretiveness, large. Self-esteem, rather large. Love of approbation, rather large.

Cautiousness, rather large. Benevolence, large. Veneration, large. Hope, small. Ideality, small. Conscientiousness, rather large. Firmness, large.

Individuality, upper, moderate. Do., lower, full. Form, full. Size, do.

Weight, do. Colour, do. Locality, do. Order, do. Time, deficient. Number, full. Tune, moderate. Language, full. Comparison, full. Causality, rather large. Wit, deficient. Imitation, full.

"The above report, it may be necessary to observe, was taken a few hours after the execution. In consequence of the body having been thrown on its back, the integuments, not only at the back of the head and neck, but at the posterial lateral parts of the head, were at the time extremely congested; for in all cases of death by hanging, the blood remaining uncoagulated, invariably gravitates to those parts which are in the most depending position. Hence, there was a distension in this case over many of the most important organs, which gave, for example, _Amativeness, Combativeness, Destructiveness, &c._, an appearance of size which never existed during life, and, on the other hand, made many of the moral and intellectual organs seem in contrast relatively less than they would otherwise have appeared. In this state, a cast of the head was taken by Mr. Joseph; but although for phrenological purposes it may do very well, yet no measurement, either from the head itself in that condition, or a cast taken from it, can afford us any fair criterion of the development of the brain itself. We know that this objection applies to the busts of all the murderers which adorn the chief pillars of the phrenological system; and in no case is it more obvious than in the present.

"Our able professor, Dr. Monro, gave a demonstration of the brain to a crowded audience on Thursday morning [the day before the public exhibition of the body]; and we have, from the best authority, been given to understand it presented nothing unusual in its appearance. We have heard it a.s.serted that the lateral lobes were enormously developed, but having made enquiry on this subject, we do not find they were more developed than is usual. As no measurement of the brain itself was taken, all reports on this subject must be unsatisfactory; nor could the evidence of a eye-witness in such a matter prove sufficient to be admitted as proof either in favour of or against phrenology.

"The question which naturally arises is, whether the above developments correspond with the character of Burke? It is not our intention to enter into any controversy on this subject; yet we cannot help remarking, that it may be interpreted, like all developments of a similar kind, either favourably or unfavourably for phrenology, as the ingenuity or prejudices of any individual may influence him. We have the moral organs more developed certainly than they ought to have been; but to this it is replied, that Burke, under the benign influences of these better faculties, lived upwards of thirty years, without committing any of those tremendous atrocities which have so paralyzed the public mind. He is neither so deficient in benevolence nor conscientiousness as he ought to have been, phrenologically speaking, and these organs, which modified and gave respectability to his character for as many as thirty years, all of a sudden cease to exercise any influence, and acquisitiveness and destructiveness, arising like two arch fiends on both sides, leave the state of inactivity in which they had reposed for so long a period, and gain a most unaccountable control over the physical powers under which they had for so many years succ.u.mbed. But, is the size of the organ of destructiveness in Burke larger than it is found in the generality of heads?--and are his organs of benevolence and conscientiousness less developed than usual?"

While dealing with this question of phrenology, it will be interesting to give the

PHRENOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT OF HARE,

taken the night before his release from prison:--

_Measurement._

INCHES.

From the Occipital Spine to lower Individuality, 717-20ths From the Ear to lower Individuality, 48 From ditto to the Occipital Spine, 43 From ditto to Philoprogenitiveness, 50 From ditto to Firmness, 57 From ditto to Benevolence, 54 From ditto to Causality, 50 From ditto to Comparison, 54 Destructiveness to Destructiveness, 519-20ths Secretiveness to Secretiveness, 58 Acquisitiveness to Acquisitiveness, 511-20ths Combativeness to Combativeness, 57 Ear to Conscientiousness, 45 Ideality to Ideality, 54

_Development._

The organ of destructiveness is large in Hare, but certainly rather below than above the average size. The organ of acquisitiveness is also large, but its true development cannot be ascertained in consequence of the size of the temporal muscle, under which it lies. Secretiveness is large.

Benevolence is well developed, in proportion to the size of the head.

Conscientiousness is full. Cautiousness is large. Combativeness is large.