hat secure love. You
tremble for your Lilian while you hear him! And the brain thus tasked,
the imagination thus inflamed, the heart thus agitated, you are
presented to Sir Philip Derval, whose ghost your patient had supposed he
saw weeks ago.

"This person, a seeker after an occult philosophy, which had possibly
acquainted him with some secrets in nature beyond the pale of our
conventional experience, though, when analyzed, they might prove to be
quite reconcilable with sober science, startles you with an undefined
mysterious charge against the young man who had previously seemed to you
different from ordinary mortals. In a room stored with the dead things
of the brute soulless world, your brain becomes intoxicated with
the fumes of some vapour which produces effects not uncommon in the
superstitious practices of the East; your brain, thus excited, brings
distinctly before you the vague impressions it had before received.
Margrave becomes identified with the Louis Grayle of whom you had
previously heard an obscure and, legendary tale, and all the anomalies
in his character are explained by his being that which you had
contended, in your physiological work, it was quite possible for man
to be,--namely, mind and body without soul! You were startled by the
monster which man would be were your own theory possible; and in order
to reconcile the contradictions in this very monster, you account
for knowledge, and for powers that mind without soul could not have
attained, by ascribing to this prodigy broken memories of a former
existence, demon attributes from former proficiency in evil magic.
My friend, there is nothing here which your own study of morbid
idiosyncracies should not suffice to solve."

"So, then," said I, "you would reduce all that have affected my senses
as realities into the deceit of illusions? But," I added, in a whisper,
terrified by my own question, "do not physiologists agree in this:
namely, that though illusory phantasms may haunt the sane as well as the
insane, the sane know that they are only illusions, and the insane do
not."

"Such a distinction," answered Faber, "is far too arbitrary and rigid
for more than a very general and qualified acceptance. Muller, indeed,
who is perhaps the highest authority on such a subject, says, with
prudent reserve, 'When a person who is not insane sees spectres
and believes, them to be real, his intellect must be imperfectly
exercised.'(2) He would, indeed, be a