pose, however, in this Chapter, to confine ourselves very strictly to the Affections, properly so called; but shall introduce some collateral or connected subjects, which may be regarded as too interesting to be omitted, and at the same time as too unimportant to require a distinct place. They may be expected, moreover, to throw indirectly some light upon the leading topic of the chapter. We begin with the subject of PRESENTIMENTS.

Many individuals have had at certain times strong and distinct impressions in relation to something future; so much so that not the least doubt has remained in their own minds of its being something out of the common course of nature. It is related, for instance, of the nonconformist writer, Isaac Ambrose, whose religious works formerly had some celebrity, that he had such a striking internal intimation of his approaching death, that he went round to all his friends to bid them farewell. When the day arrived, which his presentiments indicated as the day of his dissolution, he shut himself up in his room and died. Mozart, the great musical composer, had a strong presentiment that the celebrated Requiem which bears his name would be his last Work. Nothing could remove this impression from his mind. He expressly said, "It is certain I am writing this requiem for myself; it will serve for my funeral service." The foreboding was realized. It is stated of Pendergrast, an officer in the Duke of Marlborough's army, that he had a strong foreboding that he would be killed on a certain day. He mentioned his conviction to others, and even made a written memorandum in relation to it. And the event was such as he had foretold it would be.* Henry the Fourth of France, for some weeks previous to his being assassinated by Ravaillac, had a distinct presentiment, which he mentioned to Sully and other men of his time, that some great calamity was about to befall him.

Some cases of Presentiments can undoubtedly be explained on natural principles. Some accidental circumstance, a mere word, the vagaries of a dream, any trifling event, which happens in the popular belief of the time and country to be regarded as a sinister omen, may have * Boswell's Life of Johnson, vol. ii., p. 48.

been enough in some cases to have laid the foundation for them; and the subsequent fulfilment may have been purely accidental. Nor is it necessary, so far as we are able to perceive, to suppose that in any cases whatever there is any supernatural or miraculous interposition. But, if this is not the case, it is difficult to account for the deep conviction which sometimes fastens upon the mind, a conviction upon which arguments and persuasions are found to make no impression, except upon the ground that the action of the Sensibilities is in some degree disordered. But of the specific nature of that disorder, the trait or circumstance which distinguishes it from other forms of disordered mental action, it is difficult to give any ac

count.

§ 441. Of sudden and strong impulses of the mind.

There is another disordered condition of the mind, different from that which has just been mentioned, and yet in some respects closely allied to it. Some persons, whose soundness of mind on all ordinary occasions is beyond question, find in themselves at certain times a sudden and strange propensity to do things, which, if done, would clearly prove them, to some extent at least, deranged. As an illustration, a person of a perfectly sane mind, according to the common estimate of insanity, once acknowledged, that, whenever he passed a particular bridge, he felt a slight inclination to throw himself over, accompanied with some dread that his inclination might hurry him away. Such slight alienated impulses are

probably more frequent than is commonly supposed. And they exist in every variety of degree; sometimes scarcely attracting notice, at others bearing the broad and fatal stamp of dangerous insanity.

Dr. Gall mentions the case of a woman in Germany, who, having on a certain occasion witnessed a building on fire, was ever afterward, at intervals, subject to strong impulses prompting her to fire buildings. Under the influence of these impulses she set fire to twelve buildings in the borough where she lived. Having been arrested on the thirteenth attempt, she was tried, condemned, and executed. "She could give no other reason, nor show any

other motive, for firing so many houses, than this impulse which drove her to it. Notwithstanding the fear, the terror, and the repentance she felt in every instance after committing the crime, she went and did it afresh."* Would not sound philosophy, to say nothing of the requisitions of religion, have assigned such a person to an insane hospital rather than to the block of the executioner ?

The same writer, who has collected numerous valuable facts in relation to the operations of the human mind mentions the case of a German soldier, who was subject every month to a violent convulsive attack. "He was sensible," he proceeds to remark," of their approach; and as he felt, by degrees, a violent propensity to kill, in proportion as the paroxysm was on the point of commencing, he was earnest in his entreaties to be loaded with chains. At the end of some days the paroxysm and the fatal propensity diminished, and he himself fixed the period at which they might without danger set him at liberty. At Haina, we saw a man who, at certain periods, felt an irresistible desire to injure others. He knew this unhappy propensity, and had himself kept in chains till he perceived that it was safe to liberate him. An individual of melancholy temperament was present at the execution of a criminal. The sight caused him such violent emotion, that he at once felt himself seized with an irresistible desire to kill, while, at the same time, he entertained the utmost horror at the commission of the crime. He depicted his deplorable state, weeping bitterly, and in extreme perplexity. He beat his head, wrung his hands, remonstrated with himself, begged his friends to save themselves, and thanked them for the resistance they made to him."+

§ 442. Insanity of the affections or passions.

From the instances which have been given, it will be seen that sudden and strong impulses, indicating a disordered state of the mind, may exist in reference to very different things, and also in very various degrees. The cases last mentioned were of such an aggravated nature,

* Gall's Works, vol. iv., Am. ed., p. 105.

† Ib., vol. i., p. 329.

that they may properly be regarded as instances (and perhaps the same view will apply to some other cases of a less marked character) of actual alienation or insanity. And, as such, they may be correctly described as instances of the insanity of the Affections or Passions.

The insanity of the passions is a state of mind somewhat peculiar, even as compared with other forms of insanity. The powers of perception, in cases of insanity of the passions, are often in full and just exercise. The mind may possess, in a very considerable degree, its usual ability in comparing ideas and in deducing conclusions. The seat of the difficulty is not to be sought for in what are usually designated as the intellectual powers, in distinction from the sensitive nature, but in the passions alone. The victim of this mental disease does not stop to reason, reflect, and compare; but is borne forward to his purpose with a blind and often an irresistible impulse.

Pinel mentions a mechanic in the asylum BICETRE, who was subject to this form of insanity. It was, as is frequently the case, intermittent. He knew when the paroxysms of passion were coming on, and even gave warnings to those who were exposed to its effects to make their escape. His powers of correctly judging remained unshaken, not only at other times, but even in the commission of the most violent and outrageous acts. He saw clearly their impropriety, but was unable to restrain himself; and, after the cessation of the paroxysms, was often filled with the deepest grief.

443. Of the mental disease termed hypochondriasis.

The seat of the well-known mental disease termed Hypochondriasis, is to be sought for in a disordered state of the Sensibilities. It is, in fact, nothing more nor less than a state of deep depression, gloom, or melancholy. This is the fact; and we never apply the term hypochondriasis to a state of the mind where such gloom or melancholy does not exist; but it is nevertheless true, that the occasion or basis of the fact may sometimes be found in a disordered condition of some other part of the mind One or two concise statements will illustrate what we

mean.

RR

One of the slighter forms of hypochondriasis can perhaps be traced to inordinate workings of the Imagination. The mind of the sufferer is fixed upon some unpromising and gloomy subject; probably one which has particular relation either to his present or future prospects. He gives it an undue place in his thoughts, dwelling upon it continually. His imagination hovers over it, throwing a deeper shade on what is already dark. Thus the mind becomes disordered; it is broken off from its ordinary and rightful mode of action; and is no longer what it was, nor what nature designed it should be.

There is another, and still more striking form of hypochondriasis, which is connected in its origin with an alienation of the power of belief. As in all other cases of hypochondriasis, the subject of it suffers much mental distress. He is beset with the most gloomy and distressing apprehensions, occasioned, not by exaggerated and erroneous notions in general, but by some fixed and inevitable false belief. One imagines that he has no soul; another, that his body is gradually but rapidly perishing; and a third, that he is converted into some other animal, or that he has been transformed into a plant. We are told in the Memoirs of Count Maurepas, that this last idea once took possession of the mind of one of the princes of Bourbon. So deeply was he infected with this notion, that he often went into his garden and insisted on being watered in common with the plants around him. Some have imagined themselves to be transformed into glass, and others have fallen into the still stranger folly of imagining themselves dead.—What has been said confirms our remark, that, although hypochondriasis is, in itself considered, seated in the sensibilities, yet its origin may sometimes be found in a disordered state of some other part of the mind.

It is also sometimes the case, that this disease originates in a violation of some form of sensitive action. It is not only, as its appropriate position, seated in the sensibilities, but it sometimes has its origin there. It is related of a certain Englishman, a man of generous and excellent character, that his life was once attempted by his brother with a pistol. He succeeded, however, in wrest