my eyes,
was a superstitious observance, which I had supposed long since dead and
forgotten by all men except students interested in mythology.

As I crossed the road to take part in the ceremony a farmer's boy came
up, stoutly affirming his incredulity,

and offering to show the company how he could carry the rod motionless
across the charmed spot. But when he came to take the weird twig he
trembled with an ill-defined feeling of insecurity as to the soundness
of his conclusions, and when he stood over the supposed rivulet the rod
bent in spite of him,--as was not so very strange. For, with all his
vague scepticism, the honest lad had not, and could not be supposed to
have, the foi scientifique of which Littre speaks. [23]

Hereupon I requested leave to try the rod; but something in my manner
seemed at once to excite the suspicion and scorn of the sorcerer. "Yes,
take it," said he, with uncalled-for vehemence, "but you can't stop it;
there's water below here, and you can't help its bending, if you break
your back trying to hold it." So he gave me the twig, and awaited, with
a smile which was meant to express withering sarcasm, the discomfiture
of the supposed scoffer. But when I proceeded to walk four or five times
across the mysterious place, the rod pointing steadfastly toward the
zenith all the while, our friend became grave and began to philosophize.
"Well," said he, "you see, your temperament is peculiar; the conditions
ain't favourable in your case; there are some people who never can work
these things. But there's water below here, for all that, as you'll
find, if you dig for it; there's nothing like a hazel-rod for finding
out water."

Very true: there are some persons who never can make such things work;
who somehow always encounter "unfavourable conditions" when they wish
to test the marvellous powers of a clairvoyant; who never can make
"Planchette" move in conformity to the requirements of any known
alphabet; who never see ghosts, and never have "presentiments," save
such as are obviously due to association of ideas. The ill-success of
these persons is commonly ascribed to their lack of faith; but, in the
majority of cases, it might be more truly referred to the strength of
their faith,--faith in the constancy of nature, and in the adequacy
of ordinary human experience as interpreted by science. [24] La foi
scientifique is an excellent preventive against that obscure, though not
uncommon, kind of self-d