This person, who was a dissenting minister, had always been reckoned by all parties, one who entertained gloomy views in religion, and pushed these into extremes; his zeal was equally violent and vindictive, and he besides possessed a mind with every opposite quality in excess, and which had always, as far as I could ascertain, been in a state of irregular and discordant excitation; it is quite certain that during many years past, it had been habitually kept in a very painful and irritable state, by several causes, and one more especially deserving notice. He lived unhappily with his wife and her friends,—instead of union and harmony, all was dislike and contradiction, perpetual storms and altercations, which had just before terminated in a separation between himself and them.
Thus, from the condition of his own unsettled and ill-constituted mind, his gloomy and vindictive views in religion, his variable and irritable temper, and from the nature of the domestic excitement under which he had suffered most severely, it was easy to trace the distressing and awful form of his derangement to the causes which had produced it.
He was in a state of the most furious mania;—his was one of the most violent and distressing cases I had ever seen. It is impossible to convey any adequate conception of its appalling nature. His language was obscene and vulgar, and his horrible oaths and blasphemous speeches were poured forth for some weeks without ceasing, and without sleep, with a volubility, rapidity, and a voice so loud, and so foaming with passion, and with such a frightful expression of countenance, that even those most accustomed to such scenes, and of the strongest nerves, trembled before him. He had a demoniac energy and eloquence, which was, indeed, of the most harrowing and awful kind. It was truly terrific! for even at a distance, his voice sounded like a river escaping from some narrowed part, and rushing with impetuosity over every thing that would impede its course.
Had a short-hand writer taken down his ravings, it would have proved that this picture is far from being an overcharged one. One principle subject of his furious raving, was his favourite doctrine of Election; or rather, perhaps, I ought to say, his blasphemous doctrine of Reprobation. He was constantly denouncing every one (and against myself he was peculiarly severe) as lost, whose belief on this point was not, even in phraseology, the same as his own;—calling on God to execute vengeance upon them;—then blaspheming God, that his prayers and commands were neither heard nor obeyed;—taunting and cursing Him with a contempt which no language can describe;—calling his clemency weakness, and his not executing his decrees a proof he did not possess the power he pretended to have. In fact no one could hear and see him without feeling shocked, and without having a conviction forced upon him that there must be something wrong—some perversion of truth in those doctrines, as well as in his own mental system, out of which all this dreadful spirit, and all these terrific extremes originated, and of which this case appeared a Satanic caricature. It is a truth, that there is no error or perversion of truth that we may not perceive in reviewing the history of mind caricatured, and perhaps in a still more striking manner among those who are in confinement from being directly denounced insane.
On the subsidence of his excitement, he was overwhelmed with the perfect recollection of all he had uttered during the utmost fury of his dreadful ravings, and his state was truly miserable and deplorable. In this state I took great pains with him, treated him with every possible kindness, and endeavoured to show him every possible mark of my confidence: one instance of which may be mentioned.—I gave him, at a very early period of his convalescence, a set of manuscript sermons, all in loose slips, and which he read with great pleasure, and preserved with great care. They were affectionate moral discourses, strictly, I believe, in agreement with the spirit of Christianity, though not on any peculiar doctrines; for in these I had purposely avoided all doctrinal points, although doctrinal views may, when properly presented, be the best preventives, and in some cases the best medicines, in the cure of insanity; but the circumstances in which I was at that time placed, appeared to forbid even their most cautious introduction, and were scarcely admissible to an audience consisting of some of almost all denominations. However, he said, the spirit of these discourses just suited his altered state of mind, for he himself felt horror-struck at the views which had led to such awful consequences.
Though no one can feel more than I do, the necessity of not busily trying to proselyte or unhinge unnecessarily any one’s settled opinions, yet this was an extreme case, and in such cases, where cure seems to depend on the proper administration of counteractive views, every other feeling should give way to this conviction; but at the same time, every thing depends on the judicious mode of stating these sounder views. This case was a remarkable instance of the necessity of such management; and where such views were apparently of the utmost importance to his comfort and peace. But it would require a separate Essay to defend what I conceive those sounder views; and even were I to give this striking case as a specimen of their happy influence, I still might lay myself open to cavils and objections. I shall, therefore, in a separate Essay, bring forth all the arguments, and exert all the power I possess in their defence.
Though his furious state was so unusually violent, yet it was of long duration, and after it had left him, it was some time before he was able to overcome the painful reflections which came over him; he however recovered, and returned home in the September following, since which period I have received many, and almost constant proofs of his great gratitude and attachment to me, one of which is worthy of being stated.
In the autumn of 1824, he walked about a hundred miles to see me, and not finding my place of residence, he called on a medical acquaintance, to whom his description of my kindness and attention, and their happy influence upon himself, were so powerful and eloquent, that this new and accidental medical acquaintance, became from that time to the present, my first and warmest medical friend in encouraging me to establish myself in my present residence, and to whom I have to attribute the origin of all my success; so that this recovered patient’s gratitude, who followed me unexpectedly, was the first step in my progress, and was the sole foundation of every thing which I have done or exists in this place. It was my only introduction. I may be permitted, therefore, to acknowledge my great obligations to the warm-heart friendship of the person, of whose melancholy state I have just given a general description, as well as, the medical friend to whom I have alluded.
No. 195, admitted October 27th, 1821.
This case, I shall hereafter show, was apparently saved by this separation from former associates, at this critical period of convalescence, and he was one who required very superior and intellectual attention.