Among the more beneficial traits was the predisposition toward friendship, which phrenologists referred to by the term "Adhesiveness." But, in a sign of growing apprehension regarding sexuality, phrenologists distinguished Adhesiveness from "Amativeness," which the prominent American phrenologist Orson Fowler identified with a tendency toward "sensuality" and "self-pollution." In 1849, Fowler mapped the head of the young Walt Whitman, scoring him a generous "six" in both areas. Six years later, Fowlerís upstart phrenology and publishing business produced the first edition of Whitmanís classic Leaves of Grass, a text that accepts the corporeal principles of phrenology, while celebrating the emotional expansiveness of the "body electric."

In 1853, the journalist Horace Greeley reflected on the nature of photographyís popularity in the United States, saying, "The readiness with which a likeness may be obtained, the truthfulness of the image, and the smallness of cost, render it the current pledge of friendship." For Greeley and others, photography, even in its infancy, was understood as a medium of affectionate exchange, a vehicle through which strong emotional connections could be consolidated and communicated. Photography spawned an extraordinary traffic in portraits - of family, friends, even deceased relatives. Judging from the evidence, middle-class and working-class Americans routinely visited local photographers to assert these bonds by acquiring images of themselves with those closest to them.

Nineteenth-century photography manuals advised practitioners of various iconographic poses that might be employed to convey specific meanings. It was recommended, for example, that two sitters could express affection by having one sit while the other stood to the side and slightly behind, with a hand resting "familiarly" on the seated individualís shoulder. This most generic of all studio poses was employed by countless married couples, generally with the woman standing. But the pose was also adopted by same-sex couples, who at once affirmed and undermined its conventional meanings.

Soldiers who fought on both sides during the Civil War left behind vivid written testaments to the bonds they forged while enduring the conflictís daily terrors and deprivations. It was not unusual for two soldiers to tend to one anotherís emotional and physical needs during the long campaigns. Given the intense bonds that were forged, it is not surprising that death - which was frequent - was experienced among soldiers as a deep personal loss. One private in the 124th New York wrote of the death of his first lieutenant, "I lost my best friend in the army. Every man that knowde him loved him. "I allways went to him when I wanted any thing money or aney thing else he never refused me." [sic]