Buchanan's Journal of Man, August 1887: Volume 1, Number 7

In Short

This collection acts as a window into the mind of a late-Victorian polymath and his crusade for "Anthropology"—a comprehensive, pseudo-scientific framework intended to replace traditional religion and academic philosophy. By synthesizing phrenology, psychometry, and evolutionary theory, the text argues that human character and social potential are biologically legible through the structure of the brain. It functions as both a manifesto for a new world order and a curated survey of contemporary marvels, reflecting the era’s frantic struggle to reconcile rapid technological advancement with a lingering, mystical hunger for spiritual certainty.

The Story

The narrative begins with an exploration of the "Genesis of the Brain," employing the tools of psychometry—the supposed ability to divine the character or history of a person through physical objects—to validate the work of past scientists like Dr. Spurzheim. The author frames the human condition as an evolutionary struggle, rejecting both purely materialistic, chance-based theories of development and rigid, dogmatic theology. Instead, he proposes a "brooding spiritual power" that guides biological refinement, positioning humans at the pinnacle of a long, natural progression from simple Saurians.

From this lofty biological vantage point, the text descends into a critique of modern existence. The author observes a world teetering on the edge of catastrophe, driven by the "practice of war" and the development of increasingly lethal weaponry. He laments the rise of magazine guns, melinite shells, and massive iron-clad ships, contrasting the destructive ingenuity of "Christian governments" with the potential for human fraternity. He provides a vivid, anecdotal account of a church service during the Civil War where federal and confederate soldiers, once intent on murder, kneeled together in prayer, illustrating his belief that spiritual realignment could overcome even the most violent political animosities.

As the argument unfolds, it shifts toward the practical applications of his proposed science. He advocates for a total overhaul of the human experience, starting with education and ending with eugenics. He argues that schools fail because they merely "cram the memory" rather than molding moral character. To fix this, he insists that society must turn to Anthropology, which he views as a diagnostic tool capable of identifying character flaws in the shape of a person's head. He recounts stories of individuals—labeled with letters like "K," "L," and "M"—who failed in their professional or personal lives due to organic deficiencies in love, religion, or conscience.

The arc of the journal concludes with an urgent call for reform, both at the level of individual self-culture and systemic societal selection. He posits that the "true work" must begin before birth, with parents carefully curated for their fitness, and continues through a lifelong commitment to monitoring one's own brain development. He views his own journal as a necessary intervention against the "solid combined resistance" of established churches and colleges. Ultimately, the work serves as a blueprint for a future where science, purged of superstition, provides the definitive roadmap for human morality, physical health, and the eventual realization of a "grander realm" in the higher life.

How It Unfolds

The intellectual foundation The author establishes a spiritualized version of evolution, placing "intelligent force" at the center of biological development while dismissing both pure materialism and biblical literalism. This sets the stage for a new science of man that links physical brain structure to higher intellectual and moral capabilities.

The critique of modernity The narrative pivots to a survey of contemporary world events, contrasting the marvels of new technologies with the looming threat of industrial-scale warfare. He details the terrifying power of modern artillery, using these grim statistics to argue that humanity has advanced in destructive capacity while stagnating in moral development.

The call for diagnostic reform The focus shifts to the failure of existing social institutions, particularly the education system, which he views as a mechanism for producing "increasing misery, insanity, and crime." He introduces Anthropology as the necessary cure, claiming it can measure human character as precisely as a gym instructor measures muscle growth.

The mandate for societal engineering The final movement advocates for radical interference in human reproduction and child-rearing as the only way to "repress vice or crime." The text closes with an appeal for readers to support the journal as a vital, if embattled, beacon for a new, rationalized civilization.

The People

The author, Buchanan, stands at the center as the primary architect of his "Anthropology." He is a man of intense conviction who views himself as an enlightened outsider fighting the "monstrous mass of established error." He wants to dismantle the influence of traditional colleges and churches, which he perceives as obstacles to human progress.

Mrs. Buchanan serves as the vital link between the author and the "spirit world." Through her psychometric impressions of dead scientists like Spurzheim, she provides the author with the "overshadowing approval" needed to sustain his original line of thought. She acts as a conduit for the validation he seeks, though the text hints that her "disturbed" nervous system sometimes limits the clarity of her revelations.

The "would-be leaders" and "defective" individuals, such as the mysterious figures labeled "K," "L," and "M," represent the antithesis of the author's ideal. These people possess intellect but lack the moral, spiritual, or loving faculties required for a harmonious life. They stand in the way of progress not because they are inherently evil, but because they are "organs-deficient," leading them to pursue selfish, erratic, or fraudulent paths. The author views them with a mixture of clinical pity and frustration, believing their lives could have been salvaged had they only submitted to the measurement of his science.

In Its Own Voice

"Mystery is the foe of human progress."

The author identifies the elimination of the unknown as his primary duty, arguing that philosophy exists specifically to dissipate the shadows that hinder society.

"The man is thought a knave or fool, or bigot plotting crime, who for the advancement of his kind is wiser than his time."

The author uses this line from a poem by Charles Mackay to defend his own unpopular status as a radical innovator in the face of institutional resistance.

"To all this, Anthropology will put an end, for it will give to each a definite conception of the full normal development of humanity."

The author concludes that his new science is the ultimate solution to the chaotic and aimless religious struggles of mankind.

What It's Really About

The text is an argument for the total quantification of the human soul. It asks whether morality can be reduced to biology and whether human history is merely a series of "organic" successes and failures. It reflects a profound anxiety about the pace of the industrial age, suggesting that if society does not adopt a scientific, highly regulated approach to character and breeding, it will descend into a cycle of mental illness and violence. The work is ultimately a search for a secular religion—a framework that offers the comfort and guidance of faith, but which is anchored, in the author's eyes, to the unassailable, cold reality of physical measurement.

Why Read It Today

Reading this journal is a jarring, fascinating encounter with a mind that feels both incredibly distant and hauntingly familiar. For those interested in the history of science, it offers a window into the era of phrenology and the earnest, often bizarre attempts to apply the "scientific method" to the complexities of human personality. It captures the specific, frantic energy of the 1880s, a time when steam-powered progress and occult spiritualism walked hand in hand.

You should read it if you are interested in the roots of social engineering and the ways Victorian thinkers tried to solve the "crisis of modernity" through sheer intellectual force. However, you must be prepared for the author’s arrogance; he is deeply convinced of his own correctness, and his dismissive treatment of established institutions, such as the "stupidity of colleges," can be abrasive. The prose is dense, occasionally polemical, and filled with the period's specific brand of elitist, eugenicist logic—views that are historical relics, though they remain uncomfortable to confront. What sticks with you is the author's desperate, almost tragic need for certainty in an age where the old world was dying and the new one was being built with weapons and iron-clad ships. It is a portrait of an intellectual working in isolation, trying to map the human mind with nothing but a pair of calipers and a dream of a better world.