is nothing in this great case from the poet's note book more remarkably illustrating his profound knowledge of mental disease, not only in its symptomalology, but in its causation and development. It is the addition of a physical cause to those moral causes which have long been at work.
Lear's inflated speeches, which indicate resistance to the warring elements, are followed by a moment of resignation and of calm, as if he were beaten down by them. He “will be a pattern of all patience.” He thinks of the crimes of other men, in that speech of regal dignity: “Let the great gods find out their enemies now.” He is “a man more sinned against than sinning.” The energy of rage and of frantic resistance has passed by. Calmer thought succeeds, and then comes this remarkable admission :
“My wits begin to turn, Come on, my boy: How do'st my boy 7 art cold 7 I'm cold myself—Where is this straw, my fellow : The art of our necessities is strange, That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel; Poor fool and knave, I’ve one string in my heart That's sorry yet for thee.” -
The import of this must be weighed with a speech in the last act, when Lear is incoherent and full of delusion, but calmer than at this time, and with the reason and im
pertinency mixed of complete mania: “When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to
make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found 'em, there I smelt 'em out. Go to, they are not men o' their words; they told me I was everything: 'tis a lie : I am not ague proof.” This is thoroughly true to nature.
Insanity, arising
from mental constitution, and moral causes, often con
tinues in a certain state of imperfect development; that state which has been somewhat miscalled by
Prichard,
