rned doctors covered with the
ink which flows from the ruined inkstand. The amused patient (whom
nature has meanwhile relieved of the cause and effect) watches the
combat from the adjoining bedroom, and makes preparations to retreat and
save both his "pocket and his life."

1814. JOANNA SOUTHCOTT.

The year 1814 was marked by the bursting of one of the most
extraordinary religious bubbles with which England has ever been
scandalized. The person identified with and responsible for the craze to
which we allude, was Joanna Southcott, the daughter of a farmer residing
at the village of Gettisham, in Devonshire, where she herself was born
in the month of April, 1750. At the time, therefore, the imposture was
made patent to such of her deluded followers as retained any remnants of
the small stock of common sense with which nature had originally
endowed them, Joanna was sixty-four years of age.

The village girl appears to have been a constant reader of the
Scriptures, which she studied with so much enthusiasm, that a strong
religious bias was established, which took almost entire possession of
her mind. Still, no marked peculiarity was manifested until after she
had attained forty years of age, at which time we find her employed as a
workwoman at an upholsterer's shop at Exeter. The proprietor being a
Methodist, the shop was visited by ministers of that persuasion, and
Joanna, with her "serious turn of mind," was not only permitted to join
in their discussions, but was regarded by these harmless folk somewhat
in the light of a prodigy. To a mind predisposed to religious mania (for
it would be unjust to stigmatize Joanna altogether as a wilful impostor)
the result was peculiarly unfortunate; she was visited with dreams,
which she quickly accepted as spiritual manifestations, instead of
being, as they really were, indications of a disordered digestion.

Two years afterwards Joanna retired from secular business, and set up as
a prophetess at Exeter. She declared herself to be the woman spoken of
as "the bride," "the Lamb's wife," the "woman clothed with the sun." The
county lunatic asylum might have done good at this point; but its
wholesome discipline, unfortunately, was not resorted to. She published
in 1801 her first inspired book, "The Strange Effects of Faith," which
absolutely brought five "wise men of Gotham" to inquire into her
pretensions from different parts of England. Three of these learned
pundits were Metho