effects. "This skeleton,
then," said the doctor, "seems to you to be always present to your
eyes?" "It is my fate, unhappily," answered the invalid, "always to see
it." "Then I understand," continued the physician, "it is now present to
your imagination?" "To my imagination it certainly is so," replied the
sick man. "And in what part of the chamber do you now conceive the
apparition to appear?" the physician inquired. "Immediately at the foot
of my bed. When the curtains are left a little open," answered the
invalid, "the skeleton, to my thinking, is placed between them, and
fills the vacant space." "You say you are sensible of the delusion,"
said his friend; "have you firmness to convince yourself of the truth of
this? Can you take courage enough to rise and place yourself in the spot
so seeming to be occupied, and convince yourself of the illusion?" The
poor man sighed, and shook his head negatively. "Well," said the doctor,
"we will try the experiment otherwise." Accordingly, he rose from his
chair by the bedside, and placing himself between the two half-drawn
curtains at the foot of the bed, indicated as the place occupied by the
apparition, asked if the spectre was still visible? "Not entirely so,"
replied the patient, "because your person is betwixt him and me; but I
observe his skull peering above your shoulder."

It is alleged the man of science started on the instant, despite
philosophy, on receiving an answer ascertaining, with such minuteness,
that the ideal spectre was close to his own person. He resorted to other
means of investigation and cure, but with equally indifferent success.
The patient sunk into deeper and deeper dejection, and died in the same
distress of mind in which he had spent the latter months of his life;
and his case remains a melancholy instance of the power of imagination
to kill the body, even when its fantastic terrors cannot overcome the
intellect, of the unfortunate persons who suffer under them. The
patient, in the present case, sunk under his malady; and the
circumstances of his singular disorder remaining concealed, he did not,
by his death and last illness, lose any of his well-merited reputation
for prudence and sagacity which had attended him during the whole course
of his life.

Having added these two remarkable instances to the general train of
similar facts quoted by Ferriar, Hibbert, and other writers who have
more recently considered the subject, there can, we think, be