The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 59, September, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics — John Shaqi
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 59, September, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
History
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 59, September, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
manifestations, and thus increase the embarrassment touching the true
character of their mental constitution. When the defect appears in the
reflective powers, it is often regarded as insanity, though not more
correctly than if it were confined to the emotions and feelings. The man
who goes through life creditably performing his part, but feeling, all
the while, that everybody with whom he has any relations is endeavoring
to oppose and annoy him, strays as clearly from the track of a healthy
mind as if he believed in imaginary plots and conspiracies against his
property or person. In neither case is he completely overcome by the
force of the strange impression, but passes along, to all appearance,
much like other men. Insane, in the popular acceptation, he certainly is
not; but it is equally certain that his mind is not in a healthy
condition. Lord Byron was one of this class, and the fact gives us a
clew to the anomalies of his character. His mother was subject to
violent outbreaks of passion, not unlike those often witnessed in the
insane. On the paternal side his case was scarcely better. The loose
principles, the wild and reckless conduct of his father procured for him
the nickname of "_Mad Jack Byron_"; and his grand-uncle, who killed his
neighbor in a duel, exhibited traits not very characteristic of a
healthy mind. With such antecedents, it is not strange that he was
subject to wild impulses, violent passions, baseless prejudices,
uncompromising selfishness, irregular mental activity. The morbid
element in his nervous system was also witnessed in the form of
epilepsy, from which he suffered, more or less, during his whole life.
The "vile melancholy" which Dr. Johnson inherited from his father, and
which, to use his own expression, "made him mad all his life, at least
not sober," never perverted nor hampered the exercise of his
intellectual powers. He heard the voice of his distant mother calling
"Sam"; he was bound to touch every post he passed in the streets; he
astonished people by his extraordinary singularities, and much of his
time was spent in the depths of mental distress; yet the march of his
intellect, steady, uniform, and measured, gave no token of confusion or
weakness.
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