This is not very consistent or helpful counsel. Like the rest of
us, who are so far beneath M. Littre in grasp and in weight of
authority, he was subject to the idola fori, the illusions of the
market-place. It would never do for a great scientific sceptic to
say, 'Here are strange and important facts of human nature, let us
examine them as we do all other natural phenomena,' it would never
do for such a man to say that without qualification. So he
concluded his essay in the pooh-pooh tone of voice. He first gives
a sketch of abnormalities in mortal experience, as in the case of
mental epidemics, of witchcraft, of the so-called prophets in the
Cevennes, of the Jansenist marvels. He mentions a nunnery where,
'in the sixteenth century,' there occurred, among other phenomena,
movements of inanimate objects, pottery specially distinguishing
itself, as in the famous 'Stockwell mystery'. Unluckily he supplies
no references for these adventures.' {57} The Revue, being written
for men and women of the world, may discuss such topics, but need
not offer exact citations. M. Littre, on the strength of his
historical sketch, decides, most correctly, that there is rien de
nouveau, nothing new, in the spirit-rapping epidemic. 'These
maladies never desert our race.' But this fact hardly explains
_why_ 'vessels were dragged from the hands' of his nuns in the
sixteenth century.

In search of a cause, he turns to hallucinations. In certain or
uncertain physical conditions, the mind can project and objectify,
its own creations. Thus Gleditch saw the dead Maupertuis, with
perfect distinctness, in the salle of the Academy at Berlin. Had he
not known that Maupertuis was dead, he could have sworn to his
presence (p. 866). Yes: but how does that explain volatile pots