Account of the Nuremberg Boy, Caspar Hauser. 139 



taste for study. He has begun the study of the Latin language, 

 aud by a natural spirit of imitation, his master being a literary 

 man, he is desirous of following the same career. 



" So extraordinary a phenomenon could not fail to inspire, in- 

 dependently of general curiosity, an interest of a higher order, 

 whether in observing minds or in feeling hearts, and the wo- 

 men especially have expressed their feelings towards him in lit- 

 tle presents, and letters of the most tender kind. But the 

 multitude of idle visits they made to him, and especially these 

 expressions of tender feeling, were productive of danger to him, 

 and it became necessary to withdraw him from so many causes 

 of distraction, and to lead him into retirement. Accordingly, 

 he now lives retired in the bosom of a respectable family. Pure 

 morals, an observing mind, and a psychological order, preside 

 over his education and instruction, in proof of which, he has 

 made immense progress in the space of the last sixteen months. 



" Here, then, by the inexplicable eccentricity of a destiny 

 without example, we have presented, and j3erhaps solved a pro- 

 blem, which from the Egyptian king mentioned by Herodotus^ 

 down to the writers of novels, to the Emilius of Rousseau, and 

 the statue of Condillac, has exercised the imagination of men, 

 and the meditations of philosophers. It is evident that in the 

 profound darkness, the absolute vacuity in which Casper Hauser 

 was for twelve years immersed, all the impressions of the first 

 four years of his life were effaced. Never was there a tabula 

 rasa like that which his mind presented at the age of sixteen. 

 You see what it has been capable of receiving. But the me- 

 taphor is false, for you see how it has re-acted. 



" In proportion as the sphere of his ideas enlarged, he has 

 made continual efforts to pierce the shades of his previous ex- 

 istence. They have been useless, at least as yet. " I inces- 

 santly try," said he to us, " to seize the image of the man ; but 

 I am then affected with dreadful headachs, and feel motions in 

 my brain which frightens me." I have told you that his figure, 

 his look, and his port, bore the expression of candour, careless- 

 ness and contentment. I asked him if he had, either in his 

 dungeon, or after coming out of it, experienced feelings of 

 anger. How could I, said he, when tlierc has never been in 

 me (and he pointed to his heart) wjiat men call anger. And 



