It is of frequent occurrence, that persons labouring under insanity, although of exemplary lives and unblemished character, shall believe themselves guilty of the most atrocious crimes;—reputation, the dearest possession of the sound mind is sacrificed without a regret by the despairing lunatic;—he accuses himself of cowardice, of fraud, of secret murder, or of a turpitude at which man revolts:—and others blessed with opulence, and enjoying those comforts which render life desirable, become apprehensive of terminating their existence in the work-house. Sometimes the desire of death is so ardent, that they will perpetrate any crime in order to be arraigned and condemned at the bar of justice. Of this extraordinary perversion I shall take the liberty to relate a very striking instance. A woman about 36 years of age, who had been well educated, but whose conduct had not been exempt from some irregularities, in consequence of intemperance and manifold disappointments, became affected with madness. She was by turns furious and melancholic, and conceived she had murdered one of her children, for which she ought to suffer death. She detailed the manner in which she had destroyed the child and the motives which actuated her, so circumstantially, and with so much plausibility and feeling, that if I had not known her child to be living I might have been deceived. By her own hands she had repeatedly endeavoured to terminate her existence, but was prevented by constant vigilance and due restraint. Her disposition to suicide was afterwards relinquished; but she still persisted that for the murder of the child she ought to suffer death, and requested to be sent to Newgate, in order to be tried, and undergo the sentence of the law:—indeed she appeared to derive consolation from the hope of becoming a public example, and expiating her supposed crime on the scaffold. While in this state, and with a hope of convincing her of its safety, the child was brought to visit her. When she beheld it there was a temporary burst of maternal affection; she kissed it, and for a few moments appeared to be delighted:—but a look of suspicion quickly succeeded, and this was shortly followed by a frown of indignation, which rendered the removal of the child a measure of wholesome necessity. Perhaps, in no instance, was the buoyancy of madness more conspicuous over reason, recollection, and feeling. She insisted they had attempted to impose on her a strange child, which bore a faint resemblance to her own; however, by such subterfuges she was not to be deceived; she had strangled the child until life had totally departed, and it was not in the order of nature that it should exist again. The effect of this interview was an exasperation of her disorder,—she became more cunning and malignant, and her desire for an ignominious death was augmented. To render this more certain, and accelerate her projected happiness, she enticed into her apartment a young female patient, to