better off without it. This case has completely annihilated a halfformed theory of Clairvoyant Vision which the writer was constructing; the revelations of Mr. Dann first suggested doubts as to its stability, but now it is proved to have been altogether a "baseless fabric." There is no longer any occasion to talk about aberration, or refraction; we need no light from the mirage; neither are we under the necessity of presuming on the existence of any occult law of dioptrics, by means of which the mesmerist might be enabled to pass rays of light through opaque substances-the American Solitaire was corporally in two places at the same time. "Truth is stranger than fiction," and fact "makes fancy lame." Conder ejaculates

"O that in unseen communion,

Thought could hold the distant friend!"

Science can do more than the poet imagined, or sighed after-it can bring distant friends together to all intents and purposes.

The practicability of holding personal intercourse with correspondents afar off and across seas, must affect, eventually, the value of investments in railways and steamers, and it will destroy altogether the revenue of the Post Office; but these are partial evils only, while all the changes will be conducive to "universal good." Moreover, the facts of the case will serve to elucidate a vast number of alibi questions; and if a body can be in two places at once, why not in three? or more? Philosophy makes light of impossibilities; at present we catch only" the distant tops of thoughts "-time will bring up the rest. What a multiform mystery is human nature!

"Who the secrets can unravel

Of the body's mystic guest?"

UNIQUE DUPLICITY.

"Who can be wise, amaz'd, temperate and furious,

Loyal and neutral, in a moment?'

Macbeth.

THE inhabitants of most of the chief towns of England have lately been privileged with opportunities of becoming familiar with specimens of this singular duplicity, of seeing "two faces under a hood "the agonistic features of a body possessed of two spirits. The writer lately encountered a double minded man, whose tongue, doing double duty, ejaculated alternately, but in one breath, such phrases as the following-suiting the action to the word-" Come here! come! You must n't leave me! Do come!-I'll crush ye to atoms! I will!" Bellum, pax rursum. In the Ate that Spencer drew, this dual animus is strikingly embodied;—

"Her tongue was in two parts divided,

And both the parts did speake, and both contended;

And as her tongue so was her hert discided,

That never thought one thing, but doubly still was guided.

Likewise unequal were her handês twaine,

The one did reach, the other pusht away,

The one did make, the other mar'd againe."

The spirit of moral deformity still haunts the world. On the same occasion, a girl under excitement was desired to sing; she objected, declaring that she "could n't sing "-she " never could." It was suggested by a spectator that if the organ of selfesteem were excited conjointly with the organ of tune, the difficulty

might be overcome; the hint was taken, the device succeeded, the organs of articulation responded, and they

"Forced a girl to sing a sang,

That ne'er could sing a sang ava!"

6

"I touched the organ of Benevolence," says Mr. Stevenson, in the Phreno-magnet, when the subject "immediately said she would like to give her uncle all she had, and wished she could give more. On my touching Veneration she expressed herself as being very happy, and seeing angels. I placed a finger on Tune, and she directly said, 'I should like to sing the Evening Hymn.' I requested her to sing a song, but she said No, I must not sing a song here, but I will sing the Evening Hymn.' When she had completed the third line, I removed my finger from the organ of Tune, and she was instantly silent. On replacing the finger she re-commenced singing exactly where she had left off. After demesmerising these parts, I touched Ideality and Language, and was alike surprised and delighted at the fine poetic style in which she described the sky, the sun, moon, and stars, as also the surrounding landscape; on touching Colour in conjunction with Ideality, she described the picture as the most sublime, and spoke of the colours of the surrounding objects with all the impassioned fervour of an enthusiastic admirer of nature. On removing the finger from Colour to Individuality she said, 'Oh, I see those beautiful trees, and a many people walking there!' The question I now asked was, How many people are there? Answer I cannot count them.' I touched the organ of Number, and she instantly said, 'Oh, yes, I can count them-one, two,' &c., up to twelve, when I took my finger off the part, and she instantly ceased. I next tried the effect of suggestions, and found that the patient would say or do any thing I suggested!"

With respect to the last-mentioned trait, an American writer declares that "there is no conceivable feeling or condition of the human body, no sounds or motions peculiar to human beings, or indeed to animals, fish, or birds, which we are not, in some cases, able to induce in some persons;"

"Here is a wonder, if you talk of wonder

I wonder what it bodes!"

Whatever is may bode, it brings into mind one of Milton's heroes,— "I shall ere long

Be well stock'd with as fair a herd as graz'd

About my mother Circe."

Mesmerists, however, have nothing to do with Circe; they "work by wit, and not by witchcraft.”

Gall's diagrams indicate the localities of about thirty primitives; Phreno-mesmerists have discovered the seats of many more; for instance, says Mr. Pembroke, “Riding in Locality, Aversion near Benevolence, and one-I am not sure whether Relaxation or Good Fellowship, but the manifestation is as follows-She sits in a lolling position, imitates smoking, and calls for cigars. What will the suggestive whisperers say to this, when I declare that cigars are never used in my house? With respect to the organ of Dancing-the instant I put my finger on this organ, she said I am going to a party; she then rose up and danced round the room."

Des Cartes said " Il n'y a que six passions primitives;" Plato placed the understanding in the brain, anger in the heart, and concupiscence in the liver; and Lavater regarded the nose as a most significant gnomon. Modern science confines its attention to the cranium; but has the brain even now been thoroughly explored? Is it certain that there is no remaining Terra Incognita in either of its hemispheres? Is the last edition of the Chart of the Skull perfectly correct? Blunders have heretofore been committed in this matter, as egregious as those chronicled in the distich

and it is very remarkable, that organs often "come out in parts foreign to their proper situations," the result of "the infusion into the patient's system of an influence antagonistic to that of the original operator."

"The action of a single organ," says Mr. Pochett, "if such can act alone, is a sort of blind impulse, but combined with others different results follow. Twenty-four will allow of 621,654,561,827, 891,919,360,000 different combinations; as far as variety is con

cerned, these may be considered amply sufficient for all the purposes we can conceive necessary."

This is somewhat unphilosophical; first, because it is obvious that we have not yet passed beyond the vestibule of the Temple of Mental Philosophy, and therefore are not competent to say what variety of organs is essential to the maintenance of a correct balance of power; secondly, because we have nothing to do with the fabrication of the organs-we have no power either to increase or diminish their number-we are bound to take the complement as nature presents it, and to make the best of it; and lastly, because the calculation seems to involve the supposition that twenty-four organs may be in full excitement at the same moment. Were this possible, the multitudinous manifestations of the case would certainly assimilate the grave philosophers "ranged around" to the gazing rustics of Auburn

"And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew,
That one small head could carry all he knew."

THE TIME O'DAY.

"I see no reason why thou should'st be so superfluous to demand the time of the day." King Henry IV. p. 1.

DR. TESTE one day magnetized a young lady in the Rue Sainte Dominique, and asked her the time o'day; "Three quarters past four." He pulled out his watch, and that was the "precise time."

"You have then seen the hour on my watch, madam?—No, sir. -Where then have you seen it?-Nowhere.-Then how do you know it? I know it.-But again?-I feel it!"-Manuel Pratique. Translated by D. Spillan, M.D., A.M.