sudden, or attended by long and painful sensations, the body manifestly
suffers, and a variety of diseases, as apoplexy, palsy, madness, fever,
and hysterics, may be the consequence. If this be true, an attention to
the regulations of the mind is of much more importance than physicians
seem disposed to admit. The poet of health justly says,

"'Tis the great art of life to manage well
The restless mind."


In the course of this vitally important and deeply-interesting subject
of inquiry, it is not my intention to enter into any metaphysical
discussion respecting the inscrutable and mysterious union existing
between matter and mind, or to endeavour to point out the manner in
which the body influences the mind, and the mind the body. Such subjects
we do not think to be legitimate objects of inquiry. The medical
philosopher is engaged in less obscure and less uncertain researches; he
does not attempt to solve the question regarding the intimate union
subsisting between the natural and intellectual portions of our nature,
but he wisely confines himself to an attentive examination of the
phenomena which result from that union. Man is compounded of a soul and
body, so closely united, not _identified,_ that they frequently
struggle and occasionally overpower each other. Sometimes the mind
ascends the throne and subdues, in a moment, the physical energies of
the most powerful of her subjects. At other times the body gains the
ascendency, and lays prostrate before her the mightiest of human
intellects. Instances illustrative of both propositions are of daily
occurrence. It has been said of Sophocles, that being desirous of
proving that at an advanced age he was in full possession of his
intellectual faculties, he composed a tragedy, was crowned, and died