Letters of a Lunatic

In a recent publication on German Literature, I hinted to the reader my design of giving an account of an event in my personal history, which I alleged to be the cause of an absentment from my proper place of study, and consequently of an injustice to my public. I now proceed to fulfil my promise, by offering to my personal friends, and to such as are interested in matters of academic education and morality, a few of the many letters written by me during the past year. I might have added others, both of an anterior and of a more recent date. The question however was not to write a volume, but simply a brief exposition, of a page or two from my life in connection with a public institution of the metropolis, and thus to bring a matter of private and iniquitous dispute before the forum of the public, after having vainly sought redress in private. My main object was of course to vindicate and defend my character, my professional honor and my most sacred rights as a rational man and as a public educator, against the invasions of narrow-minded and unjust aggressors, whose machinations have for several years been busily at work in subverting what other men have reared before them, in retarding and impeding what the intelligence of our age and country is eager to accelerate and to promote. The much agitated question of University reform and of the liberty of academic instruction, which of late years has engaged the attention of some of the best intellects on both sides of the Atlantic, and which within a month past has again occupied the public mind, and even called forth legislative intervention may, however, perhaps likewise receive some additional light from the following pages, which I now submit, not from any motive of vanity, or from the expectation of self-aggrandisement or of histrionic applause; but from a sense of duty to the cause of liberal culture and of sound morality, to which I have devoted many a year of laborious effort and of earnest thought.

Dear Sir, – I deem it a duty of justice towards myself, as well as to the honor of the Institution of which I am an officer and yourself the newly-elected head, to bring to your consideration a few circumstances from the history of our incidental intercourse during the past winter, which at the time of occurrence, struck me with painful surprise, and which I cannot suffer to pass without my most earnest protestations.

1st, During the earlier part of the winter, in passing out of my lecture-room one morning, I met you in the hall of the University with a pale face, asking me in the most uncalled-for and singular manner the strange question: – "Are you my superior?" – The reply, which I ought to have written on the spot to such an enquiry, I would now make by saying, that such an idea never occurred to me, and that, as I had never seen any thing of your presence in the actual performance of duty in the University at the time of my instruction to the students, such an idea never could have suggested itself to me. The question of superiority or inferiority being, moreover, of a relative nature and one that (in our profession) can only be settled by actual services rendered to the cause of letters and by actual acknowledgements obtained in a proper manner and from competent judges, it would be folly for me or for any one else to attempt to place it on any other ground; and for that reason I never touch it, although I am always ready to acknowledge both moral and intellectual superiority, wherever I become aware of its existence.

2d, On a second occasion, I met you by accident in the hall before my door, when to my equal surprise, you informed me by indefinite murmurs and in the same painful half-way-utterance, "that I had the chapel," and "that I was in the next church," pointing to Dr. Hutton's. This cannot possibly be the case, as I am not of your persuasion in matters of religion, and if I am to communicate any instruction in the Institution, it must be done in the usual way.

3d, During the horrid disorders within the Institution the past winter, I repeatedly heard vociferous declamations in the adjoining room, and at one time the famous words of Patrick Henry were declaimed by Mr. Bennet (I think) of the last class: "Give me liberty, or give me death!" fearfully emphasized, and your own voice echoed: "Death you shall have!" As at that particular time I underwent the crucifixion of college-disorder, at the same time receiving occasional intimations that either in my speculations or in my instruction I was going too far, and that on that account it was necessary for me to leave, I cannot possibly be mistaken in supposing, that both that horrible word of yours, as well as the frequent scandalous vociferations were intended as an insult for me; (and, if that is so, I would most respectfully beg leave to reciprocate the compliment).