illustration of the shape which mental disorder assumes when originating in the propensity which we are examining. A journeyman printer, in a joke, threw something at one of his companions, which broke the glass of his spectacles, and slightly wounded him. The feelings of the sufferer were so severely excited by what he considered a premeditated insult, that he insisted upon having his injured honour healed by a mortal duel. The thoughtless offender protested his innocence of any intended outrage. The infatuated man, nevertheless, continued to urge his hostile appeal till he found it totally in vain. Conceiving himself thus degraded for ever, he shut himself up in his room, in the Rue de Foin, and there at length did, as he madly supposed, justice to himself by cutting his throat. His father is said to have put an end to his life in a similar fit of monomania.

§ 201. Other instances still further illustrative of the subject.

And where Insanity or the highest form of disorder does not supervene, there are sometimes consequences scarcely less unfavourable. It is well known, that within a few years a number of gifted individuals have been hurried to an early grave, in consequence of being held up to public contempt and ridicule in anonymous Reviews. The principle which led them to seek the sympathy and the favourable opinion of others was too exquisitely susceptible to be treated with that severity and roughness of manners which it experienced.

The case of Henry Kirk White, too keenly alive to the frowns and favours of popular sentiment, notwithstanding his great and unquestionable excellences, will illustrate what we mean. Keats, also, the gifted author of Endymion, may probably be regarded as another victim of the severity of criticism, operating upon a mind too eagerly desirous of popular approbation, and too susceptible to the influences of popular aversion and reproof.

The circumstance that the inordinate exercise of the Desire of Esteem is sometimes connected with distinguished vigour of intellect and purity of moral sentiment, does not necessarily secure the disappointed and calumniated individual who is the subject of it against great anguish of mind; so great in some instances as not only to destroy happiness, but life itself.

CHAPTER VII.

DISORDERED ACTION OF THE PROPENSITIES.

(VI.) SOCIALITY, OR THE DESIRE OF SOCIETY. § 202. Origin of the propensive principle of Sociality.

THERE are yet other propensive principles which may properly be considered under this general head. Nothing is more obvious than that men naturally

(not moved to it primarily by the influences of education, or considerations of interest, or anything of that kind, but of themselves and naturally) have a desire of the company or society of their fellowmen; a tendency of the mind expressed by the term

SOCIALITY or SOCIABILITY.

We are aware that some writers take a different view, and endeavour to resolve this principle, as well as some others, into the principle of self-love. But when we consider the evident importance of this principle to man in his present situation; when we take into account its early appearance, and its immense strength in childhood as well as in later years, together with various other circumstances which would be properly adduced in a full inquiry into this topic, we cannot hesitate to speak of the social principle as an original or implanted one. This propensity, implanted within us for the most useful purposes, may exist with such a degree of weakness on the one hand, or with such a degree of intensity on the other, as justly to entitle its action in either of these forms to be called a disordered, and even, in some cases, an alienated or insane

one.

§ 203. True idea of Alienation, or Insanity of the Sensibilities.

And here it may be proper to revert briefly once more to the precise idea which we attach to the term Alienation, considered as expressive of a state or condition of the Sensibilities. There may be an imperfection of mental action; there may be a dis

order of mental action, which is not, nevertheless, an absolute alienation or insanity of mental action. The term alienation, and the same may be said of the term insanity, properly applies to those forms of mental action (we speak now particularly of the sensibilities) which are so much disordered as to set at defiance any efforts of the Will to control them; in a word, they are involuntary. So that, in accordance with this statement, there may be either a disordered state of the principle of sociality or of any other principle (that is to say, one which is irregular, but still is susceptible of correction under the efforts of the will); or there may be, when this disorder is found to exist beyond certain limits, an alienated, an insane state. But although this distinction ought to be clearly understood, it is not necessary, in the remarks which for the most part we have occasion to make, that we should always keep it distinctly in view.

§ 204. The irregular action of the Social principle exists in two forms.

But to return to our subject. An irregular action of the social principle, whether it be truly alienated or exist in some lighter form of disorder, may show itself in two aspects, which are entirely diverse from each other, viz., either in a morbid aversion to society, or in a desire of society inordinately intense.

Persons to whom the first statement will apply are generally, and for the most part justly, designated as misanthropes. There are some cases, it is true, where the character of being misanthropic

does not, in strictness of speech, appear to be applicable. Individuals may be found, although it is not often the case, in whom the social principle is naturally so very weak that they shun all intercourse with their fellow-men, and yet without hating them. They live apart, but not in opposition. They have no enmity to their fellow-men, although they do not seek their company.

The more frequent and decided cases are those which have their origin, not in nature, but in circumstances. Under the influence of some sudden revulsion of the mind, of some great disappointment, of some ill-treatment on the part of near relatives and supposed friends, or of some other powerful cause, the natural tie of brotherhood, which binds man to his fellow-man, is snapped asunder, and the unhappy individual flees to the rock and the desert, never more to return. Such instances (the Timon of Athens of Shakspeare, the Black Dwarf of Walter Scott, and numerous others) are frequently found, not only on the recorded annals of human nature, but in almost every one's personal experience.

The views which have now been presented appear to be rather remarkably illustrated in the case of Henry Welby, who died in London in 1639, in the eighty-fourth year of his age. This individual was a man of good education and of some wealth; charitable to others, and happy in the esteem and love of his friends. When he was about forty years of age, his brother, a man without affection or principle, attempted to shoot him with a pistol double charged with bullets.