were wound up almost to bursting; nor did they receive their proper tone for many a week. I cannot conceive that the people whom the New Testament speaks of as being "possessed of devils," could have been more dreadful in appearance, or more outrageous in their actions, than was Mr M- -; nor can I help suggesting the thought, that, possibly, they were in reality nothing more than maniacs of the worst kind. And is not a man transformed into a devil, when his reason is utterly overturned?

On seeing M the next morning, I found he had passed a terrible night-that the constraint of the strait-waistcoat filled him incessantly with a fury that was absolutely diabolical. His tongue was dreadfully lacerated; and the whites of his eyes, with perpetual straining, were discoloured with a reddish hue, like ferrets' eyes. He was truly a piteous spectacle! One's heart ached to look at him, and think, for a moment, of the fearful contrast he formed to the gay Mr M he was only a few days before, the delight of refined society, and the idol of all his friends! He lay in a most precarious state for a fortnight; and though the fits of outrageous madness had ceased, or become much mitigated, and interrupted, not infrequently, with "lucid intervals"-as the phrase is, -I began to be apprehensive of his sinking eventually into that hopeless, deplorable condition, idiotcy. During one of his intervals of sanity -when the savage fiend relaxed, for a moment, the hold he had taken of the victim's faculties-Msaid something according with a fact which it was impossible for him to have any knowledge of by the senses, which was to me singular and inexplicable. It was about nine o'clock in the morning of the third day after that on which the scene above described took place, that M—, who was lying in a state of the utmost lassitude and exhaustion, scarcely able to open his eyes, turned his head slowly towards Mr

the

apothecary, who was sitting by his bed-side, and whispered to him"They are preparing to bury that wretched fellow next door-hush! hush!-one of the coffin-trestles has fallen-hush!" Mr —————, and the nurse, who had heard him, both strained their ears to listen, but could hear not even a mouse stirring❞— "there's somebody come in—a lady, kissing his lips before he's screwed down-oh, I hope she won't be scorched-that's all!" He then turned away his head, with no appearance of emotion, and presently fell asleep. Through mere curiosity, Mr

looked at his watch; and from subsequent enquiry ascertained that-sure enough-about the time when his patient had spoken, they were about burying his neighbour; that one of the trestles did slip a little aside, and the coffin, in consequence, was near falling; and finally, marvellous to tell, that a lady, one of the deceased's relatives, I believe, did come and kiss the corpse, and cry bitterly over it! Neither Mr nor the nurse heard any noise whatever during the time of the burial preparations next door, for the people had been earnestly requested to be as quiet about them as possible, and really made no disturbance whatever. By what strange means he had acquired his information-whether or not he was indebted for it to the exquisite delicacy, the morbid sensitiveness of the organs of hearing, I cannot conjecture; especially

am I at a loss to account for the latter part of what he uttered, about the lady's kissing the corpse. On another occasion, during one of his most placid moods, but not in any lucid interval, he insisted on my taking pen, ink, and paper, and turning amanuensis. To quiet him I acquiesced, and wrote what he dictated; and the manuscript now lies before me, and is verbatim et literatim as follows:

"I, T― M- saw-what saw I? A solemn silver grove-there were innumerable spirits sleeping among the branches-(and it is this,

though unobserved of naturalists, that makes the aspen-tree's leaves to quiver so much-it is this, I say, namely, the rustling movements of the spirits,)—and in the midst of this grove was a beautiful site for a statue, and one there assuredly was -but what a statue! Transparent, of stupendous size, through which (the sky was cloudy and troubled) a ship was seen sinking at sea, and the crew at cards; but the good spirit of the HIM saved them; for he shewed them the key of the universe, and a shoal of sharks, with murderous eyes, were disappointed of a meal. Lo, man, behold-another part of this statue-what an one!has a FISSURE in it-it opens-widens into a parlour, in darkness; and shall be disclosed the horror of horrors, for, lo some one sitting-sitting -easy-chair-fiery-face-fiend fiend-oh, God! oh, God! save me," cried he. He ceased speaking, with a shudder-nor did he resume the dictation, for he seemed in a moment to have forgotten that he had dictated at all. I preserved the paper; and gibberish though it is, I consider it both curious, and highly characteristic throughout. Judging from the latter part of it, where he speaks of a "dark parlour, with some fieryfaced fiend sitting in an arm-chair;" and coupling this with various similar expressions and allusions which he made during his ravings, I felt convinced that his fancy was occupied with some one individual image of horror, which had scared him into madness, and now clung to his disordered faculties like a fiend. He often talked about "spectres," "spectral"-and uttered incessantly the words, spectre-smitten.” The nurse once asked him what he meant by these words; he started-grew disturbed his eye glanced with affright and he shook his head, exclaiming, "horror!" A few days afterwards he hired an amanuensis, who, of course, was duly apprised of the sort of person he had to deal with; and after a painfully ludicrous scene, he attempting to beat down the man's terms from a guinea and a half a week to half-a-crown-he engaged him for three guineas, he said, and insisted on his taking up his station at the side of the bed, in order that

66

he might take down every word that was uttered. M told him he was going to dictate a romance! It would have required, in truth, the "pen of a ready writer" to keep pace with poor M's utterance; for he raved on at a prodigious rate, in a strain, it need hardly be said, of unconnected absurdities. Really it was inconceivable nonsense, rhapsodical rantings in the Maturin style, full of vaults, sepulchres, spectres, devils, magic-with here and there a thought of real poetry. It was piteous to peruse it! His amanuensis found it impossible to keep up with him, and, therefore, profited by a hint from one of us, and, instead of writing, merely moved his pen rapidly over the paper, scrawling all sorts of ragged lines and figures, to resemble writing! asked him to read it over, nor requested to see it himself; but, after about fifty pages were done, dictated a title-page-pitched on publishers-settled the price and the number of volumes-four !—and then exclaimed -"Well!-thank God-that's off my mind at last!" He never mentioned it afterwards; and his brother committed the whole to the flames about a week after.

M

never

M had not, however, yet done with his amanuensis-but put his services in requisition in quite another capacity that of reader. Milton was the book he selected-and actually they went through very nearly nine books of it-M perpetually interrupting him with comments, sometimes saying surpassingly absurd, and occasionally very fine, forcible things. All this formed a truly touching illustration of that beautiful, often quoted sentiment of Horace"Quo semel est imbuta recens, servabit odorem Testa diu."

(Epist. Lib. I. Ep. 2. 69, 70.)

As there was no prospect of his speedily recovering the use of his reasoning faculties, he was removed to a private asylum, where I attended him regularly for more than six months. He was reduced to a state of drivelling idiotcy; complete fatuity! Lamentable! heart-rending! Oh, how deplorable to see a man of

superior intellect-one whose ser vices are really wanted in societythe prey of madness!

Dr Johnson was well known to express a peculiar horror of insanity. Oh, God! afflict my body with what tortures thou willest; but spare my reason!" Where is he that does not join him in uttering such a prayer?

It would be beside my purpose here to enter into abstract speculations or purely professional details concerning insanity; but one or two brief and simple remarks, the fruits of much experience and consideration, may perhaps be pardoned me. It is still a vexatu questio in our profession, whether persons of strong or weak minds-whether the ignorant or the highly cultivated, are most frequently the subjects of insanity. If we are disposed to listen to a generally shrewd and intelligent writer, [Dr Monro, in his " Philosophy of Human Nature,"] we are to understand, that "children, and people of weak minds, are never subject to madness; for," adds the Doctor, "how can he despair, who cannot think?" Though the logic here is somewhat loose and leaky, I am disposed to agree with the Doctor, in the main; and I ground my acquiescence, first, on the truth of Locke's distinction, laid down in his great work, [book ii. c. ii. § 12 and 13] where he mentions the difference "between idiots and madmen," and thus states the sum of his observations:

"In short, herein seems to lie the difference between idiots and madmen, that madmen put wrong ideas together, and do make wrong propositions, but argue and reason right from them; but idiots make very few or no propositions, and reason scarce at all."

Secondly, On the corroboration afforded to it by my own experience. I have generally found that those persons who are most distinguished for their powers of thought and reasoning, when of sound mind, continue to exercise that power but incorrectly, and be distinguished by their exercise of that power-when of unsound mind-their understand

ing retaining, even after such a shock, and revolution of its faculties, the bent and bias impressed upon it before-hand; and I have found, further, that it has been chiefly those of such character-i. e. thinkers-that have fallen into madness; and that it is the perpetual straining and taxing of their strong intellects, at the expense of their bodies, that has brought them into such a calamity. Suppose, therefore, we say, in short, that madness is the fate of strong minds, or at least of minds many degrees removed from weak; and idiotcy of weak, imbecile minds. This supposition, however, involves a sorry sort of compliment to the fair sex; for it is notorious that the annual majority of those received into lunatic asylums, are females! I have found imaginative, fanciful people, the most liable to attacks of insanity; and have had under my care four such instances, or at least very nearly resembling the one I am now relating, in which insanity has ensued from sudden fright. And it is easily accounted for. The imagination-the predominant faculty-is immediately appealed to-and, eminently lively and tenacious of impressions, exerts its superior and more practised powers, at the expense of the judgment, or reason, which it tramples upon and crushes. There is then nothing left in the mind that may make head against this unnatural dominancy; and the result is generally not unlike that in the present instance. As for my general system of treatment, it may all be comprised in a word or two-acquiescence; submission; suggestion; soothing.* Had I pursued a different plan with M-what might have been the disastrous issue?

To return, however-The reader may possibly recollect seeing something like the following expression, occurring in "The Broken Heart :"+ "A candle flickering and expiring in its socket, which suddenly shoots up into an instantaneous brilliance, and then is utterly extinguished." I have referred to it, merely because it affords a very apt illustration-apter far than any that now suggests itself

to me, of what sometimes takes place in madness. The roaring flame of insanity sinks suddenly into the sullen smouldering embers of complete fatuity, and remains so for months; when, like that of the candle just alluded to, it will instantaneously gather up and concentrate its expiring energies into one terrific blaze -one final paroxysm of outrageous mania-and lo! it has consumed it self utterly-burnt itself out-and the patient is unexpectedly restored to reason. The experience of my medical readers, if it have lain at all in the track of insanity, must have presented such cases to their notice not unfrequently. However metaphysical ingenuity may set us speculating about the "why and wherefore" of it-the fact is undeniable. It was thus with Mr M. He had sunk into the deplorable condition of a simple, harmless, melancholy idiot, and was released from formal constraint: but suddenly, one morning, while at breakfast, he sprung upon the person who always attended him-and, had not the man been very muscular, and practised in such matters, he must have been soon overpowered, and perhaps murdered. A long and deadly wrestle took place between them. Thrice they threw each other-and the keeper saw that the madman several times cast a longing eye towards a knife which lay on the breakfast-table, and endeavoured to swing his antagonist so as to get himself within its reach. Both were getting exhausted with the prolonged struggle-and the keeper, really afraid for his life, determined to settle matters as soon as possible. The instant therefore, that he could get his right arm disengaged, he hit poor Mr M— a cruel blow on the side of the head, which felled him, and he lay senseless on the floor, the blood pouring fast from his ears, nose, and mouth. He was again confined in a strait waistcoat, and conveyed to bed-when, what with exhaustion, and the effect of the medicines which had been administered, he fell into profound sleep, which continued all day, and, with little intermission, through the night. When he awoke in the morning, lo! he was " in his right mind!" His calmed, tranquillized features, and

the sobered expression of his eyes, shewed that the sun of reason had really once more dawned upon his long benighted faculties. Aye-he "himself again!"

was

I heard of the good news before I saw him, and on hastening to his room, I found it was indeed so-his altered appearance at first sight amply corroborated it! How different the mild, sad smile now beaming on his pallid faded features, from the vacant stare-the unmeaning laugh of idiotcy-or the fiendish glare of madness!—the contrast was strong as that between the soft, stealing, expansive twilight, and the burning blaze of noonday. He spoke in a very feeble, almost inarticulate voice, complained of dreadful exhaustion, and whispered something indistinctly about " waking from a long and dreary dream ;" and said that he felt, as it were, only half awake-or alive. All was new-strange-startling ! Fearful of taxing too much his newborn powers, I feigned an excuse, and took my leave, recommended him cooling and quieting medicines, and perfect seclusion from visitors. How exhilarated I felt my own spirits all that day!

He gradually, very gradually, but surely, recovered. One of the earliest indications of his reviving interest in life

"And all its busy, thronging scenes," was an abrupt enquiry whether Trinity term had commenced-and whether or not he was now eligible to be called to the bar. He was utterly unconscious that three terms had flitted over him, while he lay in the gloomy wilderness of insanity; and when I satisfied him of this fact, he alluded with a sigh to the beautiful thought of one of our old dramatists, who, illustrating the unconscious lapse of years over Endymion"makes one tell him

"Lo, the twig against which thou leantest, when thou didst fall asleep, is now become a tree when thou awakest!" It was not till several days after his restoration to reason, that I ventured to enter into any thing like detailed conversation with him, or to make particular allusions to his late illness; and on this occasion it was that he

related to me his rencontre with the fearful object which had overturned his reason-adding with intense feeling, that not ten thousand a-year should induce him to live in the same chambers any more.

During the course of his progress towards complete recovery, memory shot its strengthening rays further and further back into the inspissated gloom in which the long interval of insanity had shrouded his mind; but it was too dense-too "palpable an obscure"-to be ever completely and thoroughly illuminated. The rays of recollection, however, settled distinctly on some of the more prominent points; and I was several times astonished by his sudden reference to things which he had said and done, during the "depth of his disorder." He asked me, once, for instance, whether he had not made an attempt on his life, and with a razor, and how it was that he did not succeed. He had no recollection, however, of his long and deadly struggle with his keeper-at least he never made the slightest allusion to it,-nor of course did any one else.

"I don't much mind talking these horrid things over with you, Doctor —for you know all the ins and outs of the whole affair; but if any of my friends or relatives presume to torture me with any allusions or enquiries of this sort-I'll fight them! they'll drive me mad again!" The reader may suppose the hint was not disregarded. All recovered maniacs have a dread-an absolute horror-of any reference being made to their madness, or any thing they have said or done during the course of it; and is it not easily accounted for?

"Did the horrible spectre which occasioned your illness, in the first instance, ever present itself to you afterwards?" I once enquired. He paused and turned pale. Presently he replied, with considerable agitation" Yes, yes-it scarcely ever left me. It has not always preserved its spectral consistency, but has entered into the most astoundingthe most preposterous combinations conceivable, with other objects and scenes-all of them, however, more or less, of a distressing, or fearful

character-many of them terrific!" I begged him, if it were not unpleasant to him, to give me a specimen of them.

"It is certainly far from gratifying to trace scenes of such shame and horror -but I will comply as far as I am able," said herather gloomily. "Once I saw him," meaning the spectre, "leading on an army of huge speckled and crested serpents against me; and when they came upon me-for I had no power to run away-I suddenly found myself in the midst of a pool of stagnant water, absolutely alive with slimy shapeless reptiles; and while endeavouring to make my way out, he rose to the surface, his face hissing in the water, and blazing bright as ever! Again, I thought I saw him in single combat, by the gates of Eden, with Satan-and the air thronged and heated with swart faces looking on!" This was unquestionably some dim confused recollection of the Milton-readings, in the earlier part of his illness. "Again, I thought I was in the act of opening my snuff-box, when he issued from it, diminutive, at first, in size-but swelling, soon, into gigantic proportions, and his fiery features diffusing a light and heat around, that absolutely scorched and blasted! At another time, I thought I was gazing upwards on a sultry summer skyand in the midst of a luminous fissure in it, made by the lightning

I distinguished his accursed figure, with his glowing features wearing an expression of horror, and his limbs outstretched, as if he had been hurled down from some height or other, and was falling through the sky towards me. He came-he came -flung himself into my recoiling arms-and clung to me-burning, scorching, withering my soul within me! I thought further, that I was all the while the subject of strange, paradoxical, contradictory feelings towards him;-that I at one and the same time loved and loathed-feared and despised him!" He mentioned several other instances of the confusions in his "chamber of imagery." I told him of his sudden exclamation concerning Mr T's burial, and its singular corroboration; but he either did not, or affected not to recol