colleagues, and in the hall of the University, at the same time inveighing in somewhat violent terms against the disorders of last winter. The result was general amazement.—My conduct may be considered too hasty by many. It is true I might have acted more rationally and calmly. As it is, however, so flagrant an outrage deserved exposition, and the production of such a statement made after such provocations is not only a justifiable act of self-defence, but a merited punishment of intrigue and falsehood, which I shall never have occasion to regret. Few men after such scenes would have stopped short at mere words. From the "Take care!" of Proff. L.—— and J.——, (who were criminally involved in the conspiracy of '48,) I inferred, that something was coming; indeed, I myself inquired, whether they were going to let such a grave matter rest without notice, as they had done with all my lenient protestations.

Two days after, on coming home from a walk, I was arrested by two officers of the police, consigned to a low prison for several hours, and without trial, (which was said to be over,) and without any legal counsel, converted into an insane man by the oath of two physicians, (one of them quite a young man,) who pretended to found their opinion on an examination of about ten minutes, and since then I have lived among lunatics in the asylum, from which I date this letter. My asseverations and objections before the justice were in vain. Dr. Ferris and a Wall-street broker cosily persuaded the judge in my presence, "to make me comfortable!" I have since finished the volume I had begun, though my absentment from my library obliged me to leave it less perfect than I had intended to make it. For this purpose I was rational enough, it seems. I venture, moreover, to assertf, that in all other respects (save only the obstinate affirmation of the reality of the scenes of last winter, which I am absurdly expected to deny,) my conduct since my imprisonment here has been found to be that of a man in the full possession of all his intellectual powers. Nor can the physician at the head of this institution conscientiously confirm either the sentence of the judge, or the affidavit of his professional brethren. I look upon it as perjury and a miserable shift to evade the real case of complaint, if any there be. A rational trial before a tribunal, where each side of the question could have been produced, would have been the part of honorable men, conscious of their own rectitude, and of the justice of their cause. But what aggravates these proceedings, is the strange expectation that I should humbly acquiesce in the supposititious incrimination of having been too unsafe to be left at large, of having been really incapable mentally and physically to take care of myself—and the still more singular menace of swearing me perpetually crazy, and of effecting a permanent abridgment of my liberty, in case I should attempt to defend myself, either legally or with my pen, against so palpable and serious infraction of the dearest rights of an American citizen. The scenes of last winter, of which I have given you but an imperfect outline, which were got up for the purpose of consolidating the power and preponderance of my adversaries, and of frustrating my efforts to defend my position in my usual way, i. e., by giving positive proof of my ability by actual services to the cause of academic education—these scenes of scandal and of terror I am expected to call a delusion of my senses, and thus to falsify my personal history, accuse my consciousness of mendacity, and literally to aid and abet the iniquity of my aggressors.

The day before my arrest, I was solicited by a number of students to commence my course, which I consented to do by the beginning of the following week, and as this year I had already the proof-sheets of several disquisitions on German literature in my hands, I could have begun publicly and under the most favorable auspices. But it would seem that these gentlemen were determined that I should not begin, and that they adopted this most admirable and effectual method of anticipating my perfectly regular and legitimate movements. Indeed, by the enquiry, "What are you going to do?" I have already been desired to infer, that an entire abandonment of my profession was expected of me. Its exercise had already been rendered as difficult as possible, several members of the Council having for several years past virtually superseded me by encouraging two other men on the same spot, which I in all honor was entitled to occupy myself, and which contained hardly room enough for one. What would Humboldt, Grimm, Ampère, Burnouf, and some of our other friends on the other side of the water say to such proceedings? I am reduced to penury, when from my public position I might be expected to be independent, I am deprived of the liberty of academic instruction by the terrorism of a narrow-minded clique, while successfully and diligently engaged in adding fresh honor to my post, I am bereft of freedom altogether by men, who owe their power to the fortuitous concurrence of local and sectarian influences, who are utter strangers to the large humanity of liberal culture, and who are too ignorant to decide upon the merits of a man of letters, being themselves destitute of both name and place among those who represent the literary and scientific enlightenment of our age and country. But I have wearied your patience already too long. I should like to have my case properly understood at Washington, and you will pardon my having burdened you with so much of the detail. In regard to my future movements I am uncertain. Supposing even my liberation to be near at hand, it will be difficult to commence in the midst of winter in the city, where all educational arrangements are made in the autumn. This fact was well known to those who have tied my hands. Several educational works I am anxious to complete, one particularly, at which I was interrupted a year ago this month.

I am, with great consideration,
most respectfully and truly
Yours,

G. J. Adler.

LETTER V.

Bloomingdale Asylum, Nov. 17th, 1853.

My dear sir,

In reply to yours of the 12th inst., I can say what I might have said on the first day of my confinement; that neither the chancellor nor any one else at the University can have or ever could have any apprehension whatever of being molested by me in any place or in any manner whatever, provided they mind their own business and cease to give me any further provocation. The Chancellor's conduct was pre-eminently odious, and beneath the dignity of his office. His letter, which I still hold in my hands, is as ludicrous as it is false. He is certainly very much mistaken in supposing that by his tiny authority he can so easily crush a scholar and a professor of my reputation and "standing." "Proud of my connection with the University and anxious to secure my co-operation," when but a month before he solicited the "fraternal aid" of a distant brother divine in his attempt to ship me out of the city as a sick man, of a distempered mind, concerning whom he was most deeply and devoutly concerned, and (what is still more strange,) of a man whom he pronounces "unfitted for the business of instruction?" This is his own language and this is the whole discovery, the dénouement of the dirty transactions by which I was harassed last winter. I admit that my conduct may be regarded as too hasty. I might have defended myself in a