Edgar Allan Poe

The System of Dr. Tarr and Prof. Fether

[...] southern provinces of France, my route led me within a few miles of a 
certain Maison de Sante or private mad-house, about which I had heard much in 
Paris from my medical friends. As I had never visited a place of the kind, I 
thought the opportunity too good to be lost; and so proposed to my travelling 
companion (a gentleman with whom I had made casual acquaintance a few days 
before) that we should turn aside, for an hour or so, and look through the 
establishment. To this he objected–pleading haste in the first place, and, in 
the second, a very usual horror at the sight of a lunatic. He begged me, 
however, not to let any mere courtesy towards himself interfere with the 
gratification of my curiosity, and said that he would ride on leisurely, so that 
I might overtake him during the day, or, at all events, during the next. As he 
bade me good-bye, I bethought me that there might be some difficulty in 
obtaining access to the premises, and mentioned my fears on this point. He 
replied that, in fact, unless I had personal knowledge of the superintendent, 
Monsieur Maillard, or some credential in the way of a letter, a difficulty might 
be found to exist, as the regulations of these private mad-houses were more 
rigid than the public hospital laws. For himself, he added, he had, some years 
since, made the acquaintance of Maillard, and would so far assist me as to ride 
up to the door and introduce me; although his feelings on the subject of lunacy 
would not permit of his entering the house.

I thanked him, and, turning from the main road, we entered a grass-grown by-
path, which, in half an hour, nearly lost itself in a dense forest, clothing the 
base of a mountain. Through this dank and gloomy wood we rode some two miles, 
when the Maison de Sante came in view. It was a fantastic chateau, much 
dilapidated, and indeed scarcely tenantable through age and neglect. Its aspect 
inspired me with absolute dread, and, checking my horse, I half resolved to turn 
back. I soon, however, grew ashamed of my weakness, and proceeded.

As we rode up to the gate-way, I perceived it slightly open, and the visage of a 
man peering through. In an instant afterward, this man came forth, accosted my 
companion by name, shook him cordially by the hand, and begged him to alight. It 
was Monsieur Maillard himself. He was a portly, fine-looking gentleman of the 
old school, with a polished manner, and a certain air of gravity, dignity, and 
authority which was very impressive.

My friend, having presented me, mentioned my desire to inspect the 
establishment, and received Monsieur Maillard's assurance that he would show me 
all attention, now took leave, and I saw him no more.

When he had gone, the superintendent ushered me into a small and exceedingly 
neat parlor, containing, among other indications of refined taste, many books, 
drawings, pots of flowers, and musical instruments. A cheerful fire blazed upon 
the hearth. At a piano, singing an aria from Bellini, sat a young and very 
beautiful woman, who, at my entrance, paused in her song, and received me with 
graceful courtesy. Her voice was low, and her whole manner subdued. I thought, 
too, that I perceived the traces of sorrow in her countenance, which was 
excessively, although to my taste, not unpleasingly, pale. She was attired in 
deep mourning, and excited in my bosom a feeling of mingled respect, interest, 
and admiration.

I had heard, at Paris, that the institution of Monsieur Maillard was managed 
upon what is vulgarly termed the "system of soothing"–that all punishments were 
avoided–that even confinement was seldom resorted to–that the patients, while 
secretly watched, were left much apparent liberty, and that most of them were 
permitted to roam about the house and grounds in the ordinary apparel of persons 
in right mind.

Keeping these impressions in view, I was cautious in what I said before the 
young lady; for I could not be sure that she was sane; and, in fact, there was a 
certain restless brilliancy about her eyes which half led me to imagine she was 
not. I confined my remarks, therefore, to general topics, and to such as I 
thought would not be displeasing or exciting even to a lunatic. She replied in a 
perfectly rational manner to all that I said; and even her original observations 
were marked with the soundest good sense, but a long acquaintance with the 
metaphysics of mania, had taught me to put no faith in such evidence of sanity, 
and I continued to practise, throughout the interview, the caution with which I 
commenced it.

Presently a smart footman in livery brought in a tray with fruit, wine, and 
other refreshments, of which I partook, the lady soon afterward leaving the 
room. As she departed I turned my eyes in an inquiring manner toward my host.

"No," he said, "oh, no–a member of my family–my niece, and a most accomplished 

"I beg a thousand pardons for the suspicion," I replied, "but of course you will 
know how to excuse me. The excellent administration of your affairs here is well 
understood in Paris, and I thought it just possible, you know-

"Yes, yes–say no more–or rather it is myself who should thank you for the 
commendable prudence you have displayed. We seldom find so much of forethought 
in young men; and, more than once, some unhappy contre-temps has occurred in 
consequence of thoughtlessness on the part of our visitors. While my former 
system was in operation, and my patients were permitted the privilege of roaming 
to and fro at will, they were often aroused to a dangerous frenzy by injudicious 
persons who called to inspect the house. Hence I was obliged to enforce a rigid 
system of exclusion; and none obtained access to the premises upon whose 
discretion I could not rely."

"While your former system was in operation!" I said, repeating his words–"do I 
understand you, then, to say that the 'soothing system' of which I have heard so 
much is no longer in force?"

"It is now," he replied, "several weeks since we have concluded to renounce it 

"Indeed! you astonish me!"

"We found it, sir," he said, with a sigh, "absolutely necessary to return to the 
old usages. The danger of the soothing system was, at all times, appalling; and 
its advantages have been much overrated. I believe, sir, that in this house it 
has been given a fair trial, if ever in any. We did every thing that rational 
humanity could suggest. I am sorry that you could not have paid us a visit at an 
earlier period, that you might have judged for yourself. But I presume you are 
conversant with the soothing practice–with its details."

"Not altogether. What I have heard has been at third or fourth hand."

"I may state the system, then, in general terms, as one in which the patients 
were menages-humored. We contradicted no fancies which entered the brains of the 
mad. On the contrary, we not only indulged but encouraged them; and many of our 
most permanent cures have been thus effected. There is no argument which so 
touches the feeble reason of the madman as the argumentum ad absurdum. We have 
had men, for example, who fancied themselves chickens. The cure was, to insist 
upon the thing as a fact–to accuse the patient of stupidity in not sufficiently 
perceiving it to be a fact–and thus to refuse him any other diet for a week than 
that which properly appertains to a chicken. In this manner a little corn and 
gravel were made to perform wonders."

"But was this species of acquiescence all?"

"By no means. We put much faith in amusements of a simple kind, such as music, 
dancing, gymnastic exercises generally, cards, certain classes of books, and so 
forth. We affected to treat each individual as if for some ordinary physical 
disorder, and the word 'lunacy' was never employed. A great point was to set 
each lunatic to guard the actions of all the others. To repose confidence in the 
understanding or discretion of a madman, is to gain him body and soul. In this 
way we were enabled to dispense with an expensive body of keepers."

"And you had no punishments of any kind?"


"And you never confined your patients?"

"Very rarely. Now and then, the malady of some individual growing to a crisis, 
or taking a sudden turn of fury, we conveyed him to a secret cell, lest his 
disorder should infect the rest, and there kept him until we could dismiss him 
to his friends–for with the raging maniac we have nothing to do. He is usually 
removed to the public hospitals."

"And you have now changed all this–and you think for the better?"

"Decidedly. The system had its disadvantages, and even its dangers. It is now, 
happily, exploded throughout all the Maisons de Sante of France."

"I am very much surprised," I said, "at what you tell me; for I made sure that, 
at this moment, no other method of treatment for mania existed in any portion of 
the country."

"You are young yet, my friend," replied my host, "but the time will arrive when 
you will learn to judge for yourself of what is going on in the world, without 
trusting to the gossip of others. Believe nothing you hear, and only one-half 
that you see. Now about our Maisons de Sante, it is clear that some ignoramus 
has misled you. After dinner, however, when you have sufficiently recovered from 
the fatigue of your ride, I will be happy to take you over the house, and 
introduce to you a system which, in my opinion, and in that of every one who has 
witnessed its operation, is incomparably the most effectual as yet devised."

"Your own?" I inquired–"one of your own invention?"

"I am proud," he replied, "to acknowledge that it is–at least in some measure."

In this manner I conversed with Monsieur Maillard for an hour or two, during 
which he showed me the gardens and conservatories of the place.

"I cannot let you see my patients," he said, "just at present. To a sensitive 
mind there is always more or less of the shocking in such exhibitions; and I do 
not wish to spoil your appetite for dinner. We will dine. I can give you some 
veal a la Menehoult, with cauliflowers in veloute sauce–after that a glass of 
Clos de Vougeot–then your nerves will be sufficiently steadied."

At six, dinner was announced; and my host conducted me into a large salle a 
manger, where a very numerous company were assembled- twenty-five or thirty in 
all. They were, apparently, people of rank-certainly of high breeding–although 
their habiliments, I thought, were extravagantly rich, partaking somewhat too 
much of the ostentatious finery of the vielle cour. I noticed that at least two-
thirds of these guests were ladies; and some of the latter were by no means 
accoutred in what a Parisian would consider good taste at the present day. Many 
females, for example, whose age could not have been less than seventy were 
bedecked with a profusion of jewelry, such as rings, bracelets, and earrings, 
and wore their bosoms and arms shamefully bare. I observed, too, that very few 
of the dresses were well made–or, at least, that very few of them fitted the 
wearers. In looking about, I discovered the interesting girl to whom Monsieur 
Maillard had presented me in the little parlor; but my surprise was great to see 
her wearing a hoop and farthingale, with high-heeled shoes, and a dirty cap of 
Brussels lace, so much too large for her that it gave her face a ridiculously 
diminutive expression. When I had first seen her, she was attired, most 
becomingly, in deep mourning. There was an air of oddity, in short, about the 
dress of the whole party, which, at first, caused me to recur to my original 
idea of the "soothing system," and to fancy that Monsieur Maillard had been 
willing to deceive me until after dinner, that I might experience no 
uncomfortable feelings during the repast, at finding myself dining with 
lunatics; but I remembered having been informed, in Paris, that the southern 
provincialists were a peculiarly eccentric people, with a vast number of 
antiquated notions; and then, too, upon conversing with several members of the 
company, my apprehensions were immediately and fully dispelled.

The dining-room itself, although perhaps sufficiently comfortable and of good 
dimensions, had nothing too much of elegance about it. For example, the floor 
was uncarpeted; in France, however, a carpet is frequently dispensed with. The 
windows, too, were without curtains; the shutters, being shut, were securely 
fastened with iron bars, applied diagonally, after the fashion of our ordinary 
shop-shutters. The apartment, I observed, formed, in itself, a wing of the 
chateau, and thus the windows were on three sides of the parallelogram, the door 
being at the other. There were no less than ten windows in all.

The table was superbly set out. It was loaded with plate, and more than loaded 
with delicacies. The profusion was absolutely barbaric. There were meats enough 
to have feasted the Anakim. Never, in all my life, had I witnessed so lavish, so 
wasteful an expenditure of the good things of life. There seemed very little 
taste, however, in the arrangements; and my eyes, accustomed to quiet lights, 
were sadly offended by the prodigious glare of a multitude of wax candles, 
which, in silver candelabra, were deposited upon the table, and all about the 
room, wherever it was possible to find a place. There were several active 
servants in attendance; and, upon a large table, at the farther end of the 
apartment, were seated seven or eight people with fiddles, fifes, trombones, and 
a drum. These fellows annoyed me very much, at intervals, during the repast, by 
an infinite variety of noises, which were intended for music, and which appeared 
to afford much entertainment to all present, with the exception of myself.

Upon the whole, I could not help thinking that there was much of the bizarre 
about every thing I saw–but then the world is made up of all kinds of persons, 
with all modes of thought, and all sorts of conventional customs. I had 
travelled, too, so much, as to be quite an adept at the nil admirari; so I took 
my seat very coolly at the right hand of my host, and, having an excellent 
appetite, did justice to the good cheer set before me.

The conversation, in the meantime, was spirited and general. The ladies, as 
usual, talked a great deal. I soon found that nearly all the company were well 
educated; and my host was a world of good-humored anecdote in himself. He seemed 
quite willing to speak of his position as superintendent of a Maison de Sante; 
and, indeed, the topic of lunacy was, much to my surprise, a favorite one with 
all present. A great many amusing stories were told, having reference to the 
whims of the patients.

"We had a fellow here once," said a fat little gentleman, who sat at my 
right,–"a fellow that fancied himself a tea-pot; and by the way, is it not 
especially singular how often this particular crotchet has entered the brain of 
the lunatic? There is scarcely an insane asylum in France which cannot supply a 
human tea-pot. Our gentleman was a Britannia–ware tea-pot, and was careful to 
polish himself every morning with buckskin and whiting."

"And then," said a tall man just opposite, "we had here, not long ago, a person 
who had taken it into his head that he was a donkey- which allegorically 
speaking, you will say, was quite true. He was a troublesome patient; and we had 
much ado to keep him within bounds. For a long time he would eat nothing but 
thistles; but of this idea we soon cured him by insisting upon his eating 
nothing else. Then he was perpetually kicking out his heels-so-so-"

"Mr. De Kock! I will thank you to behave yourself!" here interrupted an old 
lady, who sat next to the speaker. "Please keep your feet to yourself! You have 
spoiled my brocade! Is it necessary, pray, to illustrate a remark in so 
practical a style? Our friend here can surely comprehend you without all this. 
Upon my word, you are nearly as great a donkey as the poor unfortunate imagined 
himself. Your acting is very natural, as I live."

"Mille pardons! Ma'm'selle!" replied Monsieur De Kock, thus addressed–"a 
thousand pardons! I had no intention of offending. Ma'm'selle Laplace–Monsieur 
De Kock will do himself the honor of taking wine with you."

Here Monsieur De Kock bowed low, kissed his hand with much ceremony, and took 
wine with Ma'm'selle Laplace.

"Allow me, mon ami," now said Monsieur Maillard, addressing myself, "allow me to 
send you a morsel of this veal a la St. Menhoult- you will find it particularly 

At this instant three sturdy waiters had just succeeded in depositing safely 
upon the table an enormous dish, or trencher, containing what I supposed to be 
the "monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum." A closer scrutiny 
assured me, however, that it was only a small calf roasted whole, and set upon 
its knees, with an apple in its mouth, as is the English fashion of dressing a 

"Thank you, no," I replied; "to say the truth, I am not particularly partial to 
veal a la St.–what is it?–for I do not find that it altogether agrees with me. I 
will change my plate, however, and try some of the rabbit."

There were several side-dishes on the table, containing what appeared to be the 
ordinary French rabbit–a very delicious morceau, which I can recommend.

"Pierre," cried the host, "change this gentleman's plate, and give him a side-
piece of this rabbit au-chat."

"This what?" said I.

"This rabbit au-chat."

"Why, thank you–upon second thoughts, no. I will just help myself to some of the 

There is no knowing what one eats, thought I to myself, at the tables of these 
people of the province. I will have none of their rabbit au-chat–and, for the 
matter of that, none of their cat-au-rabbit either.

"And then," said a cadaverous looking personage, near the foot of the table, 
taking up the thread of the conversation where it had been broken off,–"and 
then, among other oddities, we had a patient, once upon a time, who very 
pertinaciously maintained himself to be a Cordova cheese, and went about, with a 
knife in his hand, soliciting his friends to try a small slice from the middle 
of his leg."

"He was a great fool, beyond doubt," interposed some one, "but not to be 
compared with a certain individual whom we all know, with the exception of this 
strange gentleman. I mean the man who took himself for a bottle of champagne, 
and always went off with a pop and a fizz, in this fashion."

Here the speaker, very rudely, as I thought, put his right thumb in his left 
cheek, withdrew it with a sound resembling the popping of a cork, and then, by a 
dexterous movement of the tongue upon the teeth, created a sharp hissing and 
fizzing, which lasted for several minutes, in imitation of the frothing of 
champagne. This behavior, I saw plainly, was not very pleasing to Monsieur 
Maillard; but that gentleman said nothing, and the conversation was resumed by a 
very lean little man in a big wig.

"And then there was an ignoramus," said he, "who mistook himself for a frog, 
which, by the way, he resembled in no little degree. I wish you could have seen 
him, sir,"–here the speaker addressed myself–"it would have done your heart good 
to see the natural airs that he put on. Sir, if that man was not a frog, I can 
only observe that it is a pity he was not. His croak thus–o-o-o-o-gh–o-o-o-o-gh! 
was the finest note in the world–B flat; and when he put his elbows upon the 
table thus–after taking a glass or two of wine–and distended his mouth, thus, 
and rolled up his eyes, thus, and winked them with excessive rapidity, thus, why 
then, sir, I take it upon myself to say, positively, that you would have been 
lost in admiration of the genius of the man."

"I have no doubt of it," I said.

"And then," said somebody else, "then there was Petit Gaillard, who thought 
himself a pinch of snuff, and was truly distressed because he could not take 
himself between his own finger and thumb."

"And then there was Jules Desoulieres, who was a very singular genius, indeed, 
and went mad with the idea that he was a pumpkin. He persecuted the cook to make 
him up into pies–a thing which the cook indignantly refused to do. For my part, 
I am by no means sure that a pumpkin pie a la Desoulieres would not have been 
very capital eating indeed!"

"You astonish me!" said I; and I looked inquisitively at Monsieur Maillard.

"Ha! ha! ha!" said that gentleman–"he! he! he!–hi! hi! hi!–ho! ho! ho!–hu! hu! 
hu! hu!–very good indeed! You must not be astonished, mon ami; our friend here 
is a wit–a drole–you must not understand him to the letter."

"And then," said some other one of the party,–"then there was Bouffon Le 
Grand–another extraordinary personage in his way. He grew deranged through love, 
and fancied himself possessed of two heads. One of these he maintained to be the 
head of Cicero; the other he imagined a composite one, being Demosthenes' from 
the top of the forehead to the mouth, and Lord Brougham's from the mouth to the 
chin. It is not impossible that he was wrong; but he would have convinced you of 
his being in the right; for he was a man of great eloquence. He had an absolute 
passion for oratory, and could not refrain from display. For example, he used to 
leap upon the dinner-table thus, and–and-"

Here a friend, at the side of the speaker, put a hand upon his shoulder and 
whispered a few words in his ear, upon which he ceased talking with great 
suddenness, and sank back within his chair.

"And then," said the friend who had whispered, "there was Boullard, the tee-
totum. I call him the tee-totum because, in fact, he was seized with the droll 
but not altogether irrational crotchet, that he had been converted into a tee-
totum. You would have roared with laughter to see him spin. He would turn round 
upon one heel by the hour, in this manner–so-

Here the friend whom he had just interrupted by a whisper, performed an exactly 
similar office for himself.

"But then," cried the old lady, at the top of her voice, "your Monsieur Boullard 
was a madman, and a very silly madman at best; for who, allow me to ask you, 
ever heard of a human tee-totum? The thing is absurd. Madame Joyeuse was a more 
sensible person, as you know. She had a crotchet, but it was instinct with 
common sense, and gave pleasure to all who had the honor of her acquaintance. 
She found, upon mature deliberation, that, by some accident, she had been turned 
into a chicken-cock; but, as such, she behaved with propriety. She flapped her 
wings with prodigious effect–so–so–and, as for her crow, it was delicious! Cock-
a-doodle-doo!–cock-a-doodle-doo!- cock-a-doodle-de-doo-dooo-do-o-o-o-o-o-o!"

"Madame Joyeuse, I will thank you to behave yourself!" here interrupted our 
host, very angrily. "You can either conduct yourself as a lady should do, or you 
can quit the table forthwith-take your choice."

The lady (whom I was much astonished to hear addressed as Madame Joyeuse, after 
the description of Madame Joyeuse she had just given) blushed up to the 
eyebrows, and seemed exceedingly abashed at the reproof. She hung down her head, 
and said not a syllable in reply. But another and younger lady resumed the 
theme. It was my beautiful girl of the little parlor.

"Oh, Madame Joyeuse was a fool!" she exclaimed, "but there was really much sound 
sense, after all, in the opinion of Eugenie Salsafette. She was a very beautiful 
and painfully modest young lady, who thought the ordinary mode of habiliment 
indecent, and wished to dress herself, always, by getting outside instead of 
inside of her clothes. It is a thing very easily done, after all. You have only 
to do so–and then so–so–so–and then so–so–so–and then so–so–and then-

"Mon dieu! Ma'm'selle Salsafette!" here cried a dozen voices at once. "What are 
you about?–forbear!–that is sufficient!–we see, very plainly, how it is 
done!–hold! hold!" and several persons were already leaping from their seats to 
withhold Ma'm'selle Salsafette from putting herself upon a par with the Medicean 
Venus, when the point was very effectually and suddenly accomplished by a series 
of loud screams, or yells, from some portion of the main body of the chateau.

My nerves were very much affected, indeed, by these yells; but the rest of the 
company I really pitied. I never saw any set of reasonable people so thoroughly 
frightened in my life. They all grew as pale as so many corpses, and, shrinking 
within their seats, sat quivering and gibbering with terror, and listening for a 
repetition of the sound. It came again–louder and seemingly nearer–and then a 
third time very loud, and then a fourth time with a vigor evidently diminished. 
At this apparent dying away of the noise, the spirits of the company were 
immediately regained, and all was life and anecdote as before. I now ventured to 
inquire the cause of the disturbance.

"A mere bagtelle," said Monsieur Maillard. "We are used to these things, and 
care really very little about them. The lunatics, every now and then, get up a 
howl in concert; one starting another, as is sometimes the case with a bevy of 
dogs at night. It occasionally happens, however, that the concerto yells are 
succeeded by a simultaneous effort at breaking loose, when, of course, some 
little danger is to be apprehended."

"And how many have you in charge?"

"At present we have not more than ten, altogether."

"Principally females, I presume?"

"Oh, no–every one of them men, and stout fellows, too, I can tell you."

"Indeed! I have always understood that the majority of lunatics were of the 
gentler sex."

"It is generally so, but not always. Some time ago, there were about twenty-
seven patients here; and, of that number, no less than eighteen were women; but, 
lately, matters have changed very much, as you see."

"Yes–have changed very much, as you see," here interrupted the gentleman who had 
broken the shins of Ma'm'selle Laplace.

"Yes–have changed very much, as you see!" chimed in the whole company at once.

"Hold your tongues, every one of you!" said my host, in a great rage. Whereupon 
the whole company maintained a dead silence for nearly a minute. As for one 
lady, she obeyed Monsieur Maillard to the letter, and thrusting out her tongue, 
which was an excessively long one, held it very resignedly, with both hands, 
until the end of the entertainment.

"And this gentlewoman," said I, to Monsieur Maillard, bending over and 
addressing him in a whisper–"this good lady who has just spoken, and who gives 
us the cock-a-doodle-de-doo–she, I presume, is harmless–quite harmless, eh?"

"Harmless!" ejaculated he, in unfeigned surprise, "why–why, what can you mean?"

"Only slightly touched?" said I, touching my head. "I take it for granted that 
she is not particularly not dangerously affected, eh?"

"Mon dieu! what is it you imagine? This lady, my particular old friend Madame 
Joyeuse, is as absolutely sane as myself. She has her little eccentricities, to 
be sure–but then, you know, all old women–all very old women–are more or less 

"To be sure," said I,–"to be sure–and then the rest of these ladies and 

"Are my friends and keepers," interupted Monsieur Maillard, drawing himself up 
with hauteur,–"my very good friends and assistants."

"What! all of them?" I asked,–"the women and all?"

"Assuredly," he said,–"we could not do at all without the women; they are the 
best lunatic nurses in the world; they have a way of their own, you know; their 
bright eyes have a marvellous effect;- something like the fascination of the 
snake, you know."

"To be sure," said I,–"to be sure! They behave a little odd, eh?- they are a 
little queer, eh?–don't you think so?"

"Odd!–queer!–why, do you really think so? We are not very prudish, to be sure, 
here in the South–do pretty much as we please–enjoy life, and all that sort of 
thing, you know-"

"To be sure," said I,–"to be sure."

And then, perhaps, this Clos de Vougeot is a little heady, you know- a little 
strong–you understand, eh?"

"To be sure," said I,–"to be sure. By the bye, Monsieur, did I understand you to 
say that the system you have adopted, in place of the celebrated soothing 
system, was one of very rigorous severity?"

"By no means. Our confinement is necessarily close; but the treatment–the 
medical treatment, I mean–is rather agreeable to the patients than otherwise."

"And the new system is one of your own invention?"

"Not altogether. Some portions of it are referable to Professor Tarr, of whom 
you have, necessarily, heard; and, again, there are modifications in my plan 
which I am happy to acknowledge as belonging of right to the celebrated Fether, 
with whom, if I mistake not, you have the honor of an intimate acquaintance."

"I am quite ashamed to confess," I replied, "that I have never even heard the 
names of either gentleman before."

"Good heavens!" ejaculated my host, drawing back his chair abruptly, and 
uplifting his hands. "I surely do not hear you aright! You did not intend to 
say, eh? that you had never heard either of the learned Doctor Tarr, or of the 
celebrated Professor Fether?"

"I am forced to acknowledge my ignorance," I replied; "but the truth should be 
held inviolate above all things. Nevertheless, I feel humbled to the dust, not 
to be acquainted with the works of these, no doubt, extraordinary men. I will 
seek out their writings forthwith, and peruse them with deliberate care. 
Monsieur Maillard, you have really–I must confess it–you have really–made me 
ashamed of myself!"

And this was the fact.

"Say no more, my good young friend," he said kindly, pressing my hand,–"join me 
now in a glass of Sauterne."

We drank. The company followed our example without stint. They chatted–they 
jested–they laughed–they perpetrated a thousand absurdities–the fiddles 
shrieked–the drum row-de-dowed–the trombones bellowed like so many brazen bulls 
of Phalaris–and the whole scene, growing gradually worse and worse, as the wines 
gained the ascendancy, became at length a sort of pandemonium in petto. In the 
meantime, Monsieur Maillard and myself, with some bottles of Sauterne and 
Vougeot between us, continued our conversation at the top of the voice. A word 
spoken in an ordinary key stood no more chance of being heard than the voice of 
a fish from the bottom of Niagra Falls.

"And, sir," said I, screaming in his ear, "you mentioned something before dinner 
about the danger incurred in the old system of soothing. How is that?"

"Yes," he replied, "there was, occasionally, very great danger indeed. There is 
no accounting for the caprices of madmen; and, in my opinion as well as in that 
of Dr. Tarr and Professor Fether, it is never safe to permit them to run at 
large unattended. A lunatic may be 'soothed,' as it is called, for a time, but, 
in the end, he is very apt to become obstreperous. His cunning, too, is 
proverbial and great. If he has a project in view, he conceals his design with a 
marvellous wisdom; and the dexterity with which he counterfeits sanity, 
presents, to the metaphysician, one of the most singular problems in the study 
of mind. When a madman appears thoroughly sane, indeed, it is high time to put 
him in a straitjacket."

"But the danger, my dear sir, of which you were speaking, in your own 
experience–during your control of this house–have you had practical reason to 
think liberty hazardous in the case of a lunatic?"

"Here?–in my own experience?–why, I may say, yes. For example:–no very long 
while ago, a singular circumstance occurred in this very house. The 'soothing 
system,' you know, was then in operation, and the patients were at large. They 
behaved remarkably well-especially so, any one of sense might have known that 
some devilish scheme was brewing from that particular fact, that the fellows 
behaved so remarkably well. And, sure enough, one fine morning the keepers found 
themselves pinioned hand and foot, and thrown into the cells, where they were 
attended, as if they were the lunatics, by the lunatics themselves, who had 
usurped the offices of the keepers."

"You don't tell me so! I never heard of any thing so absurd in my life!"

"Fact–it all came to pass by means of a stupid fellow–a lunatic- who, by some 
means, had taken it into his head that he had invented a better system of 
government than any ever heard of before–of lunatic government, I mean. He 
wished to give his invention a trial, I suppose, and so he persuaded the rest of 
the patients to join him in a conspiracy for the overthrow of the reigning 

"And he really succeeded?"

"No doubt of it. The keepers and kept were soon made to exchange places. Not 
that exactly either–for the madmen had been free, but the keepers were shut up 
in cells forthwith, and treated, I am sorry to say, in a very cavalier manner."

"But I presume a counter-revolution was soon effected. This condition of things 
could not have long existed. The country people in the neighborhood-visitors 
coming to see the establishment–would have given the alarm."

"There you are out. The head rebel was too cunning for that. He admitted no 
visitors at all–with the exception, one day, of a very stupid-looking young 
gentleman of whom he had no reason to be afraid. He let him in to see the 
place–just by way of variety,–to have a little fun with him. As soon as he had 
gammoned him sufficiently, he let him out, and sent him about his business."

"And how long, then, did the madmen reign?"

"Oh, a very long time, indeed–a month certainly–how much longer I can't 
precisely say. In the meantime, the lunatics had a jolly season of it–that you 
may swear. They doffed their own shabby clothes, and made free with the family 
wardrobe and jewels. The cellars of the chateau were well stocked with wine; and 
these madmen are just the devils that know how to drink it. They lived well, I 
can tell you."

"And the treatment–what was the particular species of treatment which the leader 
of the rebels put into operation?"

"Why, as for that, a madman is not necessarily a fool, as I have already 
observed; and it is my honest opinion that his treatment was a much better 
treatment than that which it superseded. It was a very capital system 
indeed–simple–neat–no trouble at all–in fact it was delicious it was

Here my host's observations were cut short by another series of yells, of the 
same character as those which had previously disconcerted us. This time, 
however, they seemed to proceed from persons rapidly approaching.

"Gracious heavens!" I ejaculated–"the lunatics have most undoubtedly broken 

"I very much fear it is so," replied Monsieur Maillard, now becoming excessively 
pale. He had scarcely finished the sentence, before loud shouts and imprecations 
were heard beneath the windows; and, immediately afterward, it became evident 
that some persons outside were endeavoring to gain entrance into the room. The 
door was beaten with what appeared to be a sledge-hammer, and the shutters were 
wrenched and shaken with prodigious violence.

A scene of the most terrible confusion ensued. Monsieur Maillard, to my 
excessive astonishment threw himself under the side-board. I had expected more 
resolution at his hands. The members of the orchestra, who, for the last fifteen 
minutes, had been seemingly too much intoxicated to do duty, now sprang all at 
once to their feet and to their instruments, and, scrambling upon their table, 
broke out, with one accord, into, "Yankee Doodle," which they performed, if not 
exactly in tune, at least with an energy superhuman, during the whole of the 

Meantime, upon the main dining-table, among the bottles and glasses, leaped the 
gentleman who, with such difficulty, had been restrained from leaping there 
before. As soon as he fairly settled himself, he commenced an oration, which, no 
doubt, was a very capital one, if it could only have been heard. At the same 
moment, the man with the teetotum predilection, set himself to spinning around 
the apartment, with immense energy, and with arms outstretched at right angles 
with his body; so that he had all the air of a tee-totum in fact, and knocked 
everybody down that happened to get in his way. And now, too, hearing an 
incredible popping and fizzing of champagne, I discovered at length, that it 
proceeded from the person who performed the bottle of that delicate drink during 
dinner. And then, again, the frog-man croaked away as if the salvation of his 
soul depended upon every note that he uttered. And, in the midst of all this, 
the continuous braying of a donkey arose over all. As for my old friend, Madame 
Joyeuse, I really could have wept for the poor lady, she appeared so terribly 
perplexed. All she did, however, was to stand up in a corner, by the fireplace, 
and sing out incessantly at the top of her voice, "Cock-a-doodle-de-dooooooh!"

And now came the climax–the catastrophe of the drama. As no resistance, beyond 
whooping and yelling and cock-a-doodling, was offered to the encroachments of 
the party without, the ten windows were very speedily, and almost 
simultaneously, broken in. But I shall never forget the emotions of wonder and 
horror with which I gazed, when, leaping through these windows, and down among 
us pele-mele, fighting, stamping, scratching, and howling, there rushed a 
perfect army of what I took to be Chimpanzees, Ourang-Outangs, or big black 
baboons of the Cape of Good Hope.

I received a terrible beating–after which I rolled under a sofa and lay still. 
After lying there some fifteen minutes, during which time I listened with all my 
ears to what was going on in the room, I came to same satisfactory denouement of 
this tragedy. Monsieur Maillard, it appeared, in giving me the account of the 
lunatic who had excited his fellows to rebellion, had been merely relating his 
own exploits. This gentleman had, indeed, some two or three years before, been 
the superintendent of the establishment, but grew crazy himself, and so became a 
patient. This fact was unknown to the travelling companion who introduced me. 
The keepers, ten in number, having been suddenly overpowered, were first well 
tarred, then–carefully feathered, and then shut up in underground cells. They 
had been so imprisoned for more than a month, during which period Monsieur 
Maillard had generously allowed them not only the tar and feathers (which 
constituted his "system"), but some bread and abundance of water. The latter was 
pumped on them daily. At length, one escaping through a sewer, gave freedom to 
all the rest.

The "soothing system," with important modifications, has been resumed at the 
chateau; yet I cannot help agreeing with Monsieur Maillard, that his own 
"treatment" was a very capital one of its kind. As he justly observed, it was 
"simple–neat–and gave no trouble at all–not the least."

I have only to add that, although I have searched every library in Europe for 
the works of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether, I have, up to the present day, 
utterly failed in my endeavors at procuring an edition.