ood deal of attention. It was reported in the next morning's
newspapers, and will be given at full length, doubtless, in the next
number of the Psychological Journal. The leading facts were, briefly,
these: A lady in Hamburg, Germany, wrote, on the 22d of June last, that
she had what she supposed to be nightmare on the night of the 17th, five
days before. "It seemed," she wrote, "to belong to you; to be a horrid
pain in your head, as if it were being forcibly jammed into an iron
casque, or some such pleasant instrument of torture." It proved that on
that same 17th of June her sister was undergoing a painful operation at
the hands of a dentist. "No single case," adds Professor Royce, "proves,
or even makes probable, the existence of telepathic toothaches; but if
there are any more cases of this sort, we want to hear of them, and that
all the more because no folk-lore and no supernatural horrors have as yet
mingled with the natural and well-known impressions that people associate
with the dentist's chair."

The case I have given is, I am confident, absolutely free from every
source of error. I do not remember that Mr. Rathbone had communicated
with me since he sent me a plentiful supply of mistletoe a year ago last
Christmas. The account I received from him was cut out of "The Sporting
Times" of March 5, 1887. My own knowledge of the case came from "Kirby's
Wonderful Museum," a work presented to me at least thirty years ago. I
had not looked at the account, spoken of it, nor thought of it for a long
time, when it came to me by a kind of spontaneous generation, as it
seemed, having no connection with any previous train of thought that I
was aware of. I consider the evidence of entire independence, apart from
possible "telepathic" causation, completely water-proof, airtight,
incombustible, and unassailable.

I referred, when first reporting this curious case of coincidence, with
suggestive circumstances, to two others, one of which I said was the most
picturesque and the other the most unlikely, as it would seem, to happen.
This is the first of those two cases:--

Grenville Tudor Phillips was a younger brother of George Phillips, my
college classmate, and of Wendell Phillips, the great orator. He lived
in Europe a large part of his life, but at last returned, and, in the
year 1863, died at the house of his brother George. I read his death in
the paper; but, having seen and heard very little of him during his life,
should