For most of two decades in the 1880s and 1890s, Cincinnati had our own resident phrenologist and it turns out he was somewhat famous. Among the heads whose bumps he analyzed were Sarah Bernhardt, Mark Twain, Lilly Langtry, Henry Ward Beecher and other celebrities of the era.



Today, we think of phrenology as a classic pseudoscience, concerned with reading personality through the contours of the head. But Beall was a true believer, and had his own definition, which he outlined in an advertisement in the Cincinnati Post [30 July 1886]:

“Phrenology means mental science, and includes all systematized knowledge pertaining to character and intelligence. As an art, it enables us to read the mind by the diameter of the head, or the distance upward, forward and backward from the ear, taking into account the temperament, quality of the organization, &c., &c. It is not, as many suppose, a science of cranial ‘hills and hollows,’ but a subject of infinite dignity and practical value.”

Born just outside Cincinnati in Lockland, Beall invested years in the study of phrenology, but he was a lifelong seeker of essential truths in many fields. He achieved certification from the American Institute of Phrenology in New York, then moved back to the Cincinnati area and enrolled at the Medical College of Ohio, while simultaneously studying theology on the side. His investigations resulted in an explosively controversial critique of religion. The Cincinnati Enquirer predicted a stormy reception:

“Edgar C. Beall, the well-known phrenologist of this city, has written a book called ‘The Brain and the Bible,’ which is the latest addition to the infidel literature of the day and at the same time is an exposition of the principles and philosophy of phrenology applied to religion. The book is written in good, terse, clear English, and will, doubtless, be the cause of much comment and controversy.”

Beall summarizes his controversial “infidel” thesis in the book’s final chapter:

“In opposing Christianity, therefore, as a religious system, we denounce simply its pernicious doctrines and absurd dogmas which are contradicted by science and plainly inimical to the highest happiness of mankind. Among these are chiefly the existence of a personal God and a personal Devil, the fall of man, the scheme of salvation by faith, and endless torment to those who reject Christ as a divine savior.”

Despite his controversial writings and association with known agnostics, Beall remained popular in Cincinnati. He regularly lectured on phrenology to packed auditoriums and the newspapers hired him to provide character studies of people in the news, locally and nationally.

These newspaper analyses indicate the fundamental weakness of phrenology – it is a classic example of the fallacy known as “post hoc, ergo propter hoc.” In other words, because some factor existed before a particular result, that factor must be the cause of the result. Beall knew quite a bit about the people he analyzed – Admiral George Dewey, George B. “Boss” Cox, Rabbi Isaac M. Wise – and so his “phrenographs” essentially reinforced popular opinion.

In addition to phrenology, Beall was a lifelong advocate of hygiene. Today, we think of hygiene as basic cleanliness. Back in the day, hygiene covered a lot of behaviors including diet, exercise, clothing and even mental and moral habits.

Beall took his commitment to “moral fiber” literally, devising his own recipe for whole wheat bread and persuading the Cincinnati Women’s Exchange to make and sell loaves using his recipe. The Cincinnati Post [6 October 1898] was a fan:

“All the mineral richness is in this bread. The brand gives mechanical aid to the chemical process of digestion. It gives the teeth a purpose in life and excites the stomach to action. This bread is designed to prevent the use of the tons of purgative pills used by Cincinnatians.”

This interest in hygiene led Beall to write another controversial book. For once, Cincinnati’s prudery had nothing to do with it. By 1900, Beall had moved to New York City to assume editorship of The Phrenological Journal, official publication of the Phrenological Institute. In 1905, he published a volume titled “The Life Sexual: A Study of the Philosophy, Physiology, Science, Art, and Hygiene of Love.” In other words, Beall published a sex manual, although a sex manual of its time, with lots of advice about good habits and very few revelations about the actual mechanics involved. Still, it was salacious enough to get banned by the Post Office. Theodore Schroeder, in a 1911 book supporting freedom of the press, specifically highlights the censorship of Beall’s book as an ill-considered act:

“I have read much of this book and can not for the life of me conceive why it should be deemed offensive, because the book is written in a refined style and is instructive. The opening chapter is devoted to a strong criticism of ‘The Ban upon Sexual Science,’ and maybe therein lies the cause of complaint.”

Interestingly, Beall never married, although his “Life Sexual” book was emphatic in support of marriage:

“Considered from the most practical point of view, for the majority of men, marriage is by all means to be preferred. Men who remain unmarried, but who are unable to resist the fascinations of the opposite sex, are almost certain to suffer at least from irregularity in their associations with women.”

Perhaps it was to offer some researcher an opportunity to solve this conundrum that Beall made his final and greatest contribution to phrenology – his own brain. A few years before he died, Beall telephoned the medical school of Cornell University and informed the doctors there that he had willed his body to be dissected and studied for scientific research. “When you get it,” he told the faculty, “pay particular attention to a study of my brain.”

The body arrived at Cornell’s medical campus in New York City after Beall’s death in 1930. According to the Omaha World Herald [29 January 1930], “His is said to have been a very abnormal brain.”