The following from an Eastern journal illustrates another phase of the subject: "Saltpetriere, the hospital for nervous diseases, made famous by the investigations of Dr. Charcot, has an interesting case of religious mania. The patient, who is a woman of about forty years of age, entertains the belief that she is crucified, and this delusion has caused a contraction of the muscles of the feet of such a nature that she can walk only on tip-toe. The patient, moreover, is subject occasionally to the still more extraordinary manifestation--that of 'stigmata.' Instances of 'stigmata' are tolerably frequent in the 'Lives of the Saints' of alleged supernatural marks on the body in imitation of the wounds of Christ. These 'stigmata' have been observed beyond all question on the woman at the Saltpetriere. Their appearance on the body coincides with the return of the most solemn religious anniversaries. These 'stigmata' are so visible that it has been possible to photograph them. The doctors of the Saltpetriere in order to assure themselves that these manifestations were not the result of trickery, contrived a sort of shade having a glass front and metal sides, and capable of being hermetically attached to the body by means of India rubber fixings. These shades were placed in position a considerable time before the dates at which the stigmata are wont to appear. When they were affixed there were no marks whatever on the patient's body, but at the expected period the 'stigmata' were visible as usual through the glass." In a Southern journal there is reported an interesting case, in which a New Orleans physician tells the following story: "A nervous man recently called on me and asked, 'In what part of the abdomen are the premonitory pains of appendicitis felt?' On the _left_ side, exactly here,' I replied, indicating a spot a little above the point of the hip-bone. He went out, and next afternoon I was summoned in hot haste to the St. Charles hotel. I found the planter writhing on his bed, his forehead beaded with sweat, and his whole appearance indicating intense suffering. 'I have an attack of appendicitis,' he groaned, 'and I'm a dead man! I'll never survive an operation!' 'Where do you feel the pain?' I asked. 'Oh, right here,' he replied, putting his finger on the spot I had located at the office. 'I feel as if somebody had a knife in me turning it around.' 'Well, then, it isn't appendicitis, at any rate,' I said cheerfully, 'because _it is the wrong side_.' 'The wrong side!' he exclaimed, glaring at me indignantly. 'Why, you told me yourself it was on the _left_ side!' 'Then I must have been abstracted,' I replied calmly; 'I should have said the _right_ side.' I prescribed something that wouldn't hurt him, and learned afterward that he ate his dinner in the dining-room the same evening. Oh! yes; he was no doubt in real pain when I called, _but you can make your finger ache merely by concentrating your attention on it for a few moments_."