hensible cause, rather than to the rational explanation of unconscious movement. Some time since, I had a curious illustration of this fact, and at the same time an admirable proof of the physical theory (if any were required), in an experiment suggested by a gentleman of this city. I had concluded a successful exhibition at an evening company, and described the precise method by which the experiments had been performed. This gentleman said to me privately that he could suggest an experiment which, if successful, would disprove my theory of muscular or physical movement. I retired from the room, and was brought in blindfolded. Meanwhile he had requested a very good subject with whom I had done a number of complicated things to hide an article. The gentleman then took the towel from my head and blindfolded the "subject"—turned him rapidly round several times, and told him to think of the object. He said, "Now you will find it by mental communication only." I started off rapidly, but, of course, received no indications. I then purposely touched his hand to the mantel-piece in the back-parlor. Instantly he unconsciously calculated the position of the hidden article and directed (not led, for I always go in advance of the "subject") me toward the front-room; then he was lost, until I again touched his hand to some object, when I received a fresh indication. In this way I finally found a ten-cent note, rolled into a little ball, and attached to the lower knot of a cord running through the handle of a small feather-duster, which was hanging from the bell-handle on the wall. I did not, however, immediately produce it, as I wished to experiment further. I led the "subject" off to another part of the room, and he immediately brought me back to the duster. Again I led him away to the same place, and turned him round so as to confuse him. All indications ceased, even when I held his hand within an inch of the duster.
In regard to finding small objects, I have no difficulty in picking out any letter on a page of a book or newspaper, and I frequently spell out abstract thoughts or names of people, places, etc., thought of, in this way: I hold a sharp-pointed stick or pen-handle in my left hand, pointing downward, with the same hand grasping the left hand of the "subject." I thus pick out letters on the page which spell the thought in the mind of the "subject."
The power of perception of these minute indications is capable of being developed to an astonishing degree, and I have often been amazed at the curious effects produced, a few of which I have indicated to you.
To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.
In Tyndall's discourse on "Fermentation and its Bearings on the Phenomena of Disease," as published in the December number of The Popular Science Monthly, he describes an injury he met with in falling upon some sharp rocks. He limped to his hotel, and remained quietly in bed for four or five days, and, having quite recovered, removed the bandages, and found the wound "perfectly clean, uninflamed, and entirely free from pus." This slight exposure led to inflammation, an accumulation of pus, and, finally, to an abscess several inches below the wound, and might have led to fatal results. A year after, Tyndall exposed in the same room tubes containing organic infusions, and in two days the infusions were swarming with the bacteria of putrefaction with which the dust-laden atmosphere was charged.
I have lately been reading General Hazen's interesting book entitled "The School and the Army," and in it find the following testimony regarding the treatment of wounds in in-door and out-door hospitals, which, taken in connection with Dr. Canniff's correspondence in the April number of your magazine concerning Dr. Lister's antiseptic treatment of wounds, may be of interest to your readers. General Hazen says:
"The Germans have fallen into the same error that we committed—that of using buildings for hospitals instead of tents, or field-hospitals; and there is scarcely a doubt that the French will do likewise. It is unaccountable that scientific and practical medical men do not appreciate and advocate the advantages of out-door over in-door hospitals. It is a matter of the gravest importance, and the humane societies of Christendom can in no way do more good than by thoroughly investigating and making generally known the facts relating to permanent hospitals in time of war. The seeds of disease cling to the walls, ceilings, and floors, and the death-rate of the wounded is often greatly increased by putting them in these places. So strongly was I impressed with this in our war that, as far as was in my power, I kept my wounded out of them. At the battle of Mission Ridge, the colonel of the Forty-first Ohio lost his leg above the knee by a musket-shot I forbade his going to hospital, and caused him to be treated in his rude, split-shingle cabin, and his recovery was remarkably rapid. Officers of my command who were grazed by musket-shot upon the arms were put into the hospital, and died from gangrene. At that battle the wounded of General Thomas's army were treated in fixed hospitals, or buildings fitted up beforehand at Chattanooga, with many comforts and good care. The proportion of deaths among the wounded was frightful; and we were told that it was due to the low
