"The alarm about witchcraft, both in England and America, was, I think, one of the most noticeable delusions of modern times," said Mrs. Wyndham. "How many eminent and excellent men were deceived by it! The learned, judicious, and pious Sir Matthew Hale condemned at least one witch to be burnt alive--although, I believe, it cost him some remorse afterwards. And in New England, Cotton Mather was prominent in hunting out those who were supposed by their neighbors to be on too familiar terms with a certain nameless individual. I am glad I did not live in those days! If a poor old woman was ugly, and cross, and mumbled to herself, as we old women will do sometimes, and above all, if she kept a large black cat, woe betide her! her fate was well-nigh sealed." "I don't think you would have been in any danger, Aunt Lucy," said Amy, laughing. "I don't know, indeed--probably not, while I had such an array of young people around me. But if I were left desolate and alone in the world, and became peevish and odd from the mere fact of having no one to love me, I would not have answered for the consequences at all." "I had to laugh," added Ellen, "at the marvellous cure effected by the electrical machine. It reminded me of a well-attested anecdote I have read of the beneficial effects wrought by a thermometer, through the medium of the imagination. The physician intended to try whether the galvanic battery could not be usefully employed in a case of paralysis, but before commencing operations, he applied a small thermometer to the tongue of the patient. Upon removing it, he was told by the latter that it gave him very curious feelings, and that he thought himself a little better. Seeing the mistake he had made, the doctor resolved not to undeceive him, but to persevere in the application of the thermometer. He did so, and the man was soon a complete cure." "I have heard of instances of sudden joy or fright restoring the vital energies to poor bed-ridden mortals," said Cornelia, "but to be cured by a thermometer is too comical!" "It was that powerful principle, faith," answered Mrs. Wyndham. "I remember very well the time when certain metallic tractors were all the fashion, to draw away pain from the parts affected, by magnetic influence. Well-authenticated cures were wrought; but at last a physician applied a test, which proved the beneficial results to be entirely the work of the imagination. He had wooden tractors made, painted so as to resemble the metal ones, and they exerted equal powers. When this fact was published, of course the cures ceased, and metallic tractors became things that were."