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An IMPORTANT QUESTION answered.

BEING defired to

give an Answer to the following

Queflion, I have given both the Question and Answer together, viz.

Are all men that hang, or drown, or otherwise make away with themselves, diftrated? My reason for this question is this; because in all such cases, I am informed, the law directs, there shall be a Jury impanelled over the corpse, to confult and determine, on evidence, whether fuch perfon was really: distracted or no.

ANSWER.

To this question the very terms of it* imply the answer; for if a Jury confults, whether such a person were distracted, it implies that sometimes such persons are not distracted; for if always so, what need of confultation? Thus much indeed must be granted, that such a thing is often the cafe: and it cannot be denied that it has been the opinion of great men, divines, and others, that no man could possibly destroy himself, were he not, at least in the very act, under a fit of distraction : but however this may hold in some instances, the contrary may be good in many, if not in most; for if we consider those among the Romans, who out of a mistaken bravery, or rather impotence of mind, threw away their lives; with what calmness, and temper did they often do it, and could answer with an Imperator bene fe habet, even in the agonies of death. And much the fame has been observed of many of those perfons, who have gone the same way, in our time, some of whom have taken their leave of all their friends; adjusted all their accounts; which require fedateness and calmness of mind. But besides all this, did not the wisdom of our laws suppose the same thing, they would never have

*This is not quite accurate; for the terms here spoken of are not in the

Question; but in the Reason of it.
VOL. VIII.

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stamped

stamped such a brand of infamy on the bodies of those who have thus come to their ends, as well as taken away the estate from their relations. The civil law goes yet higher, as quoted by Bishop Barlow, on a question near a-kin to this: "The foldier who hath laid violent hands upon himself; but not accomplished the fact, unless he did it from impatience of pain or disease, or grief, shall be punished with death." Whereas the Bishop observes, the very attempt of Self-murder is punishable; and that too with a capital punish

ment.

It is true there are so many exceptions in the law, that would perfuade one to believe it was not only made in terrorem; but if any thing be intended by it, that im. patience, &c. must be construed as high as distraction, though even then they were to be dismissed ignominioufly from their employment.

But would it not put an end to all felf-murder were a law made, That all felf-murderers, sane or infane, rich or poor, should be hung in chains?

*

A remarkable Story of a Gentleman walking in his Sleep.

PAYING AYING a visit to a friend in the country, I met there an Italian gentleman, called Agostine Fofari, who was a night-walker; or a person who, whilst afleep, does all the actions of one awake. He did not seem to exceed the age of thirty; was lean, black, and of an extreme melancholy complexion; had a sedate understanding, a great penetration, and a capacity for the most abstracted sciences. His extraordinary fits ufed generally to seize him in the wane of the Moon; but with greater violence in the Autumn and Winter, than in the Spring and Summer. I had the curiofity to be an eye-witness of what was told me, and prevailed with his Valet de Chambre to give me notice when his master was

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likely to renew his vagary. One night about the end of September, after supper, the company amused themselves with little plays, and Signior Agostine made one among the reft. He went to bed about eleven, and his valet came foon after and told us that his master would that night have a walking fit, and defired us, if we pleased, to come and observe him. I went to his bed-side with a light in my hand, and faw him lying upon his back, his eyes wide open, but fixed, which was a fure sign of his approaching diforder. I took him by the hands and found them very cold; I felt his pulse, and found it so flow, that his blood seemed to have no circulation. At or about midnight he drew the curtains brifkly; rose, and dressed himself well enough. I approached him, and put the candle to his nose; found him insensible, with his eyes still wide open and immoveable. Before he put on his hat he took his belt, from which the sword had been removed for fear of an accident.

In this equipage did Signior Agostine walk backwards and forwards in his chamber several times. He came to the fire, fat down in an elbow chair, and went some little time after to a closet, where was his portmantua. He fumbled in it a: long time; turned every thing topsy-turvey, and after putting every thing in order, he shut the portmantua, and put the key in his pocket: whence he drew a letter and put it over the chimney. He then went to the chamber-door; opened it, and proceeded down stairs. When he came to the bottom, one of the company falling, he seemed frightened at the noife, and mended his pace. The valet bid us walk fofily, and not speak, because when any noise was made near him, and intermixed with his dreams, he became furious, and ran with the greatest precipitancy as if pursued.

He traversed the whole court, which was very spacious, and proceeded to the stable. He went in, stroaked and caressed his horfe, bridled him, and was going to saddle him; but not finding the faddle in its usual place, he seemed very uneasy,

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uneasy, like a man disappointed. He, however, mounted his horse, and galloped to the house door which was shut. He then dismounted, and taking up a cabbage-stalk, knocked furioufly at the door. After a great deal of labour lost, he remounted his horse, guided him to the pond, which was at the other end of the court, let him drink, went afterwards and tied him to his manger, and then returned to the house with great agility. At the noise some servants made in the kitchen, he was very attentive, came near to the door, and clapped his ear to the key-hole; but passing on a sudden to the other side, he entered a parlour where was a billiard-table. He walked backwards and forwards, and u'ed the fame postures as if he was effectually at play. He proceeded to a pair of virginals, upon which he could play, and made some jangling. After two hours exercise, he returned up stairs to his chamber, and threw himself in his clothes upon the bed, where we found him the next morning at nine, in the same posture we had left him; for upon these occasions, he ever slept eight or ten hours together.

His valet told us there was but two ways to recover him out of these fits; one was to tickle him strongly upon the foles of his feet; the other, to sound a horn or trumpet at his ears.

7.

N

A Strange ACCOUNT.

[Concluded from page 381.]

TOW both the good and the evil angels, have stated times, of rendezvous: at which the principal angels (good and bad) that have the charge of towns, cities, or kingdoms (not to mention villages or individuals,) hear all that is transacted. Many things talse are related among the living, living, but nothing among the dead. Indeed an evil spirit would not scruple telling a falsehood, if he could gain any thing by it. But he cannot. Nay, in inaking his report, he must tell nothing but the truth, or woe be to him!

8. But beside their monthly, quarterly, and yearly meetings, departed spirits may take a trip to see each other when they please. Three of these informed me of what you faid; * Andrew Akeman, that attends Mr. Thurston's family, James Corbet, that waits on Mr. Paton's family, (and was looking after Mrs. Paton, when she was at your house) and an original Emissary, appointed to wait on yours. At this I was much surprised, and after a little thinking, asked, And is there an emissary from hell that attends my family? C. You may depend upon it there is. O. And what is his business ? C. To divert you from your duty, and make you do as many ill things as he can. For much depends upon having the Minister on his fide. On this I was struck with a horror I cannot express. But after a time, recollecting myself, I faid, But is there a devil that attends our family, though invisibly? C. As sure as you breathe. But there is also a good angel, that attends your family, and is stronger than him. 0. Are you fure of this? C. Yes: and there is one just now riding on your right arm. But he might have been elsewhere: for I meant you no harm. 0. How long has he been with me? C. Only since we passed Branskie: but now he is gone. 0. I defire now to part with you, and to fee you another time. C. Be it so. I want your help of another kind. Now I bid you farewel. So faying he went off, at the head of the path going to Elmselough.

9. On April 5, 1722, as I was returning from Oldhamstocks, Cool struck up with me at the ruinous inclosure. I told him, I am glad to see you: what now are your demands upon me? C. All I desire is, that you will go to my wife, who possesses

• These were lately dead.

all

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