"During actual hypnosis," says Mr. Harry Vincent, "frequently the
contraction of the muscles is so obvious that the subject appears to be
indulging in a grim smile."[4]

[Footnote 4: "Elements of Hypnotism," p. 99.]

I venture to call attention to the grim smile worn by Charles Kingsley in
the portrait which prefaces the large edition of his Life and Letters.
Charles Kingsley suffered from frequent fits of exhaustion; these are
often the results of excessive hypnotism after the limit (at the fifth or
sixth effort) of the hypnotist's power has been reached. His brother
Henry, we learn from Mr. Kegan Paul's "Memoirs," was excessively
hypnotisable. His character was weaker perhaps than Charles's, but the
geniality of his writings bears testimony to his remarkable ability.

He was only rescued from a condition little better than a tramp's by a
kind friend. Charles's life was perhaps shortened by hypnotism. One of
Kingsley's neighbours at Eversley was the late Sir W. Cope. The elder son
of this gentleman, when Secretary of Legation at Stockholm, came to a
tragic end. He suddenly, when out walking with a friend, although his
health had been apparently perfect, began to shout and wave his umbrella.
He was put under the care of attendants, as he was considered to be
temporarily insane. He jumped out of a window and was killed. Voices
insulting or threatening him, and with such scoundrels speech would be of
something dreadful, would provoke or frighten the unhappy man.

About two years later a distinguished priest, well known in London, also
suddenly waved an umbrella and behaved as if he were angry. But he showed
hardly any sign of insanity, and on applying to the proper court for