given subject:—most minds feel more invited to indulge in the convenience of a syllogism, than to undergo the toil of induction. Although an insane person may be calm and apparently rational at the beginning of an interview, yet when least expected his disorder breaks forth, and in many instances, there seems to be no cause for this conversion from apparent sanity to evident derangement. In the commencement of the conversation the lunatic shall evince a healthy perception of existing objects, and institute a just admeasurement of the subject under contemplation; or in other words shall reason correctly; if he be placed in the society of other madmen he is able to detect the folly and aberration from reason which characterize their peculiar phantasies, and will often endeavour to convince them of the absurdity of their prevailing opinions, yet in a moment his mind launches into the regions of fiction, its admired clearness
becomes obscured, and its seeming regularity exhibits a confused assemblage or violent distortion.—There is no intermediate condition which separates these states: and the transition very much resembles the last connected glimpses of our waking thoughts, followed by the abrupt creation of a dream.
This occasional display of rationality, although admitted by all who have had experience of the insane, excites a doubt in the minds even of learned and intelligent persons who have merely speculated on this disease. They have conceived, from the existing philosophy of the intellect, that reason is the directress of human actions,—that this high arbiter of thought is an undivided principle,—that where the rudder is attached the ship may be steered—and that he who reasons must be rational: and so he is, as long as he does reason. But the inference of the integrity
of the reasoning faculty in consequence of occasional gleams, is a gratuitous and groundless supposition. It often happens that persons may converse for some time with a lunatic, and find him apparently composed and rational; he will discuss the floating topics of the day as another man,—accord with the most enlightened on the general principles of morals, and correctly estimate the light and shadow of human conduct. If the observer should here retire he might be convinced of his sanity: but let him protract the discourse, let him touch the fatal string which throws his mind into discord: let him draw the hair-trigger which inflames the combustible materials of his disease, and he will be surprised if not alarmed at the explosion. The sweeping tyranny of madness scorns the demarcation which limits the sober mind; and it should likewise be taken into account that the subjects which constitute the insanity
of a person, are the prominent features of his mind, and are more frequently recurred to than any other. It is true he may discuss ordinary topics like other men; but this to him is a species of bye-play, and he soon reverts to the interest or catastrophe of his drama. Whatever may be the subject of discourse, and however rationally he may appear to treat it, the experienced practitioner will expect, and he will not often be disappointed, to find that by some unaccountable association, even ordinary topics are linked with his darling delusion,—the map of his mind will point out that the smallest rivulet flows into the great stream of his derangement.
On a more attentive consideration, there appears to be something latent and perhaps mischievous, in the terms Good and Evil, Right and Wrong, as applied to cases of
insanity. If an insane person be responsible for his conduct, I know of no law which sanctions his confinement. If he can discriminate between Good and Evil, Right and Wrong, on what pretence is he to be deprived of his liberty? Is it humane to suppose him in his senses when he becomes most outrageous? Is it christian-like to deem him responsible, because the violence of his disorder tears down the fences of the law, or snaps the ties of natural affection? Ought he to be punished when he is most to be pitied? If it be supposed that the terror of example will prevent the sallies of the maniac, it is a lamentable mistake. His belief in the Good of his principle, his faith in the Right of his actions, are superior to arguments,—his motive cannot be controlled by reason, nor baffled by the fear of punishment. Impressed with a belief in the truth of his delusion, he hurries forward to its accomplishment: and in the
pursuit of the phantom cannot be diverted by the most awful consequences. He is of those
“quem neque pauperies
“Neque mors, neque vincula terrent.”