and Ballads."




MAGNETISM

It was a men's dinner party, and they were sitting over their cigars and
brandy and discussing magnetism. Donato's tricks and Charcot's
experiments. Presently, the sceptical, easy-going men, who cared nothing
for religion of any sort, began telling stories of strange occurrences,
incredible things which, nevertheless, had really occurred, so they said,
falling back into superstitious beliefs, clinging to these last remnants
of the marvellous, becoming devotees of this mystery of magnetism,
defending it in the name of science. There was only one person who
smiled, a vigorous young fellow, a great ladies' man who was so
incredulous that he would not even enter upon a discussion of such
matters.

He repeated with a sneer:

"Humbug! humbug! humbug! We need not discuss Donato, who is merely a very
smart juggler. As for M. Charcot, who is said to be a remarkable man of
science, he produces on me the effect of those story-tellers of the
school of Edgar Poe, who end by going mad through constantly reflecting
on queer cases of insanity. He has authenticated some cases of
unexplained and inexplicable nervous phenomena; he makes his way into
that unknown region which men are exploring every day, and unable always
to understand what he sees, he recalls, perhaps, the ecclesiastical
interpretation of these mysteries. I should like to hear what he says