"The madman, the lover, and the poet, And, as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unseen, the poet's eye Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name." But here we have a distinction without a difference; for the poet and the lover are represented as equally frantic with the madman. The most obstinate cases of mental derangement are those which have a fixed hallucination, the patient appearing rational upon other subjects. The patient with whom the visiting magistrate before mentioned had the conversation, could, upon all subjects not connected with his hallucination, | have reasoned correctly, and he discovered considerable knowledge and learning; still, from the idea of being a Colonel, he was never free; nor could he be brought to behave with common civility to those who refused to recognize his title: but address him as Colonel, and no one could be more cordial. In this instance, the long indulgence of a favourite illusion gave it in his mind the force of truth; the recollection by which the idea was supported, had engaged the diseased imagination so much, that he believed them to be founded upon realities, the mind yielding to the power of the impressions upon this particular train of the ideas; and not only this, but upon all the thoughts connected with it. A Colonel must have horses, and servants, drink wine, and observe the military costume, and from hence arose the necessity of restraint, and not from the simple abstract idea of being a Colonel. I have a female now in the room with me, who can reason correctly upon many subjects; and yet I am convinced, that she really believes herself to be a lady of title, to which she has no pretensions. And long before any other symptom of insanity was apparent, and before she discontinued her usual visits amongst her acquaintance, she left her card, "Lady Mary S." It may be here observed, that in a state of perfect sanity, an impression may be made by a dream, a sudden shock, or an imagination, which shall, by indulgence, acquire the power of truth over the mind and memory; but this would not go to prove a defect of the understanding or judgment, it would only prove the strength of the impression as compared with the strength of the judgment or knowledge on that particular subject:-by the indulgence of an illusive impression, I mean the suffering it to influence the words and actions, while it is known to be erroneous. The telling a horrid dream is always improper, for the doing of this only tends to fix the impression, and may do serious injury. We are all the slaves of habit in our thoughts, and particularly so in a state of nervous debility; and in this state the patient may indulge the wish of being a king, till he believes himself to be one, though rational in other things. It may be proper to observe, that people of highly cultivated minds are furnished with more checks to the first approaches of mental complaints, and, under proper medical treatment, have a better chance of complete recovery, than the vulgar and ignorant have; for the exercise of their senses and reasoning powers and knowledge can frequently be more strongly excited, than in those whose sphere of information is more confined; and every exercise of the mental faculties on the senses is so far a suspension of the disease, and tends to weaken its powers. I grant, that if it were not for this superior power of resisting the disease, in those of more cultivated minds, they would be more exposed to its attacks; for as they have more ramifications of thought, they must of course be more liable to a diseased excitement of the imagination. The greater or less liability to mental disorder, as far as mental causes go, being always the preponderance of the balance betwixt the involuntary imaginations, and the suggestions of the knowledge of truth and reason: and while superior knowledge should be able to detect the fallacy of an idea, a paucity of information might give it entertainment, till the power of habit had conferred on it the ascendency of truth. There is a strong analogy betwixt the functions of thought in a state of sleep, and a state of insanity; for in sleep, the imaginations have complete control, being under no checks from "But know that in the soul Spring-Vale, near Stone, (To be continued.) PILGRIMAGE. (From ERASMUS.) sides this, your arm is laden with strings of beads, O. I have seen St. James of Compostella; and have visited the Parathalassian Virgin, celebrated among the English. M. From motives of curiosity, I suppose? 0. No; but on a religious account. My wife's mother bound herself by a vow, that if her daughter were brought to bed of a fine boy, I should go to St. James, and in person salute the shrine, and return thanks. M. So you saluted the saint in your own name, and in that of your mother-inlaw? O. All our family were joined in the act. M. I suppose you would not have been less fortunate, if you had never appeared at the shrine. But what answer did the saint make to your thanks? O. None. But when my offering was presented, he was seen to smile, gently nod his head, and at the same time stretch forward this imbricated piece of shell-work. MR. EDITOR, M. And why this sort of present raSIR,-The writings of Erasmus are ther than any other? 0. Because known to have exerted considerable these shells abound in the neighbourinfluence on the opinions of the age in ing sea. M. A very benign saint, which he lived; but though they pos- who also assists parturient women, sess an extraordinary portio cf wit and is hospitable to travellers. But and good sense, they are little known what new kind of vow is this, which to the merely English reader. The people at their ease may make, and following piece has a particular claim impose the labour of performing it on on our attention, as it relates to our others? If you bind yourself by a own country, and describes, in a vow, that provided some business in lively manner, scenes acted among which you are engaged should termiourselves; but which are now remem- nate favourably, I shall fast twice in bered only as objects of curiosity. I the week, do you think me bound to have exercised some degree of free- perform your promise? O. I think dom in the translation, but have been you would not perform such a vow, if sacredly attentive to the preservation you had made it yourself. But the of the sense. author of this vow was my mother-inlaw; it is not unusual for women to make vows; you know their feelings on these occasions; and this in an especial manner had reference to myself. J. COUCH. Menedemus. What do I see! Is it not my neighbour Ogygius, who has been missing these six months, and whom I had given over for lost? surely it is the same, I rejoice to see you. Ogygius. And I you, Menedemus. M. Where have you been wandering? It was reported here that you had breathed your last in a foreign land. O. Thanks to the supreme Author of all good, I am returned to my own country, and in regard to health was never better. M. But still, you have something strange about you. You are hung round with imbricated shell-work; you have a number of tin and leaden images; and are adorned with wreaths of platted straw. Be M. And what harm would have resulted, if you had not performed this vow? O. If the saints are in any respect like the princes of this world, though he could not have called me into a court of justice for breach of contract, he would nevertheless have shewn his resentment, by turning a deaf ear to my future petitions; or perhaps have sent afflictions among my family. M. Tell me, then, how does the ex-. cellent man James get on? O. Not nearly so well as he used to do. M. How so, is he getting old? O. Oh as such is submissive to my nod, lest I should get angry, and refuse to let him suck the breast. Sometimes things are petitioned for from the Virgin, which a well-behaved youth would be ashamed to ask of a professed bawd. A merchant travelling into Spain on commercial affairs, commits to my keeping the chastity of his concubine; and a nun, devoted to God, casting aside her vail, and flying from her profession, has committed to me the vindication of the reputation which she was about to trample under foot. A ruffian soldier, marching to the field of slaughter, cries, Give me a good booty. The gambler prays, Help me, and thou shalt share my gain. If he loses, I am reproached for not having stood his friend. Another, who is seeking after dishonest gain, supplicates for abundant profit; and if I deny him, immediately he accuses me of being an unmerciful mother. The prayers of another class, though less wicked, are not less silly. Give me, says the maiden, a rich and handsome for shame! You know saints never grow old; but the new doctrines which are gaining ground in the world, are the cause of his being less visited than in times past; and those who come to salute the shrine, offer little or nothing, saying that it becomes the saint rather to bestow his riches on the poor than to receive money from them. M. Oh shocking! O. And by this means, so great an apostle, who formerly was adorned with gems and gold, is now a naked piece of wood, hardly enjoying the light of a tallow candle. M. On this ground, all the saints are likely to be served in the same manner. O. To save them from this, a letter is circulated, which has been written by the Virgin Mary. M. Which Mary? O. She which has her denomination from a stone. M. She dwells in Swisserland, I believe? O. She does so. M. Well may she be a stony saint. But to whom was this letter addressed? O. The epistle contains the name. M. And by whom was it sent? O. No doubt, by an angel, who depo-husband; and to me fine children, sited it on the pulpit from which he preaches, to whom it is directed. And, to avoid every suspicion of fraud, it was written with the Virgin's own hand. M. And so you are well acquainted with the hand-writing of the angel who is private secretary to the Virgin? O. Why not? M. But how do you know it? O. I have seen the Epitaph on Bede, which was engraved by an angel; the form of the letters is exactly the same. I have also read the letter sent from St. Egidius, to which it is similar; what further proof would you have? M. May I be permitted to inquire into its contents? O. Yes, If you promise not to suffer it to go any further. M. Oh! you may depend on my secresy. O. Well, then, thus it runs. 66 Mary the mother to Jesus Glacecoplatus, health! For as much as, following Luther, thou persuadest that it is a vain thing to invoke the saints, take notice, for under this denomination thou hast received very valuable favours from me; and it has not been usual for me to visit mortals with judgments, on account of their wicked supplications. One supplicant will come to me, and ask of me for every thing that hits his fancy, supposing, because he is commonly painted so, that my son is always an infant, and says the wife. The pregnant woman liable to be intercepted. M. But what brought you into England? 0. A very favourable wind invited me to the voyage; and I almost engaged to the Parathalassian Virgin to visit her again in two years. M. What petition had you to put up to her? O. Nothing new; just these common things, the preservation of my family, the success of my concerns, a long and happy life in this world, and eternal felicity in that which is to come. M. Could not the Virgin Mother, that dwells among us, give you these things? At Antwerp she has a more magnificent church than that which is across the sea. O. Perhaps so; but particular gifts are bestowed at particular places; either because such is her pleasure, or, as she is kind, she knows this mode of proceeding suits us best. my acknowledgments, if this advan- | tage did not draw with it a more than proportionate disadvantage. I have more leisure indeed, but with this there is a considerable falling off of respect and offerings. Once I was saluted as the queen of heaven, the governess of the world; now but few address me with a "Save us, Mary." Once I was clad in gems and gold, and had a wardrobe full of changes of raiment; but the offerings of gold and gems have ceased, and I am clothed with a piece of cloak, and that has been nibbled by the mice; but my yearly income is scarcely sufficient to support a poor man to light my little lamp or tallow candle. Even these hardships might be borne, if I did not perceive that you are labouring after still greater things; for I have been told that you are endeavouring to expel from the churches every M. I have frequently heard concernthing belonging to the saints. Being St. James; but be so good as to very careful as to what you do; for describe to me this dominion of the the other saints have wherewith they Parathalassian Virgin. O. I will recan avenge the injury. In return for late it to you in as brief a manner as such an expulsion, Peter can close the I am able. The name is very much gates of heaven against you. Paul celebrated through all England; nor has a sword; Bartholomew is armed can you easily find any one in that with a knife; William wears his ar- island, who will venture to hope that mour under the cloak of a monk, and his affairs will prosper, unless once a carries a heavy lance. How can you year he salutes her with a gift, in contend with George, mounted on his order to procure her assistance. M. horse, and clad in complete armour, Where does she dwell? O. At the with a spear and formidable sword extremity of England, between the beside? Anthony can inflict the ery- northern and western parts, about sipelas; others, that I have not men- three miles from the sea. The village tioned, have either arms or diseases, is entirely supported by the resort of with which to plague those who incur travellers. It is a college of canons, their anger. Me, though unarmed, such as the Latins denominate reguyou cannot expel, unless you also lar;-somewhat between monks and expel my Son, whom I hold in my canons; such as are sometimes called arms. From him I will not be sepa-secular. M. An amphibious generarated; you must reject him, or retain both :-but perhaps you prefer to have a church without a Christ. I wish you to meditate on these things. Consider what answer you will return; for this concern lies near my heart. From our stony residence, the calends of August, in the year of my son's sufferings 1524, I have subscribed my name, The Virgin of the Stones. M. A very threatening epistle, truly. I suppose Glaucoplutus will take care? O. Yes, if he is wise. M. Why did not the blessed James write about the same affair? O. I cannot tell, unless the distance prevented him; and you know letters are very No. 49.-VOL. V. tion, somewhat resembling the beaver? O. Yes, or the crocodile. But to end all cavils as to their nature, I may add, they are as disagreeable as canons, as acceptable as monks. M. You speak riddles. O. I will add a further description. If the pope should thunder his anathema against monks, they are canons, not monks ;-but if he should permit monks to have wives, they for their part are monks, not canons. This college has scarcely any other support beside the liberality of the Virgin; for the greater offerings are preserved. But what money is offered, and things that are not of much value, are employed for the support of the flock and of the head, who is E called the prior, a man of some_cha- | the anachronism, by inserting them in racter; for in fact they all are richer January, 1823. in piety than in purse. The principal church is neat and elegant, but is not the residence of the Virgin: to do honour to her Son, she has given this up to him. She has a church of her own at the right from him. M. Which way then does the Son look? O. Well remembered. When he looks west, he has his mother at his right hand; when he turns to the east, she is at his left. Neither indeed does she dwell where I have said, for the building is not finished, the doors and windows not being put up; so that the wind has free course through the edifice; and it stands on the border of a sea by no means a stranger to storms. M. Cold accommodations! where then does she reside? O. In this church, which, as I said, is yet unfinished, is a narrow chapel, made of boards, having a very narrow door on each side, by which visitors are admitted. The light is but dim, being furnished from a few wax candles; but the odour of incense renders the place very agreeable. M. The obscure light, and the pleasant smell, are of material cousequence to religion. O. Then the interior is ornamented with silver, gold, and precious stones, so that it appears worthy indeed to be the seat of a divinity. M. You tempt me to wish for a sight of it. O. You would not repent of the journey. And is there any holy oil found there? O. Simple man! This oil exudes only from the sepulebres of saints, such as Andrew and Catharine. Mary is not buried. M. True, I had forgot. But go on with the story. O. The wider religion spreads, the greater multitude of wonders are shewn, and in a greater variety of places. M. Perhaps that its spread may be still more extensive? 0. Some of the priests are always present. (To be continued.) POETRY. MR. EDITOR. The lines on the last departed year will, it is imagined, form a proper sequel to the preceding; and should the Editor condescend to honour them, as well as the former, with publicity, through the medium of his established Magazine, he will gratify the ambition of A JUVENILE CORRESPONDENT. The past, the come, the future year, Bethink thee, reader, of the tomb! SIR,-The following stanzas to the And thou art nearer to that home, Since 1821. Me, when my locks are few and gray, As 1821. |