M. Petetin attended a young married lady in a sort of fit. She lay seemingly unconscious; when he raised her arm, it remained in the air where he placed it. Being put to bed, she commenced singing. To stop her, the doctor placed her limbs each in a different position. This embarrassed her considerably, but she went on singing. She seemed perfectly insensible. Pinching the skin, shouting in her ear, nothing aroused her attention. Then it happened that, in arranging her, the doctor’s foot slipped; and, as he recovered himself, half leaning over her, he said, “How provoking we can’t make her leave off singing!” “Ah, doctor,” she cried, “don’t be angry! I won’t sing any more,” and she stopped. But shortly she began again; and in vain did the doctor implore her, by the loudest entreaties, addressed to her ear, to keep her promise and desist. It then occurred to him to place himself in the same position as when she heard him before. He raised the bed-clothes, bent his head towards her stomach, and said, in a loud voice, “Do you, then, mean to sing for ever?” “Oh, what pain you have given me!” she exclaimed; “I implore you speak lower.” At the same time she passed her hand over the pit of her stomach. “In what way, then, do you hear?” said Dr. Petetin. “Like any one else,” was the answer. “But I am speaking to your stomach.” “Is it possible!” she said. He then tried again whether she could hear with her ears, speaking even through a tube to aggravate his voice—she heard nothing. On his asking her, at the pit of her stomach, if she had not heard him,—“No,” said she, “I am indeed unfortunate.” A cognate phenomenon to the above is _the conversion of the patient’s new sense of vision in a direction inwards_. He looks into himself, and sees his own inside as it were illuminated or transfigured: that is to say, his visual power is turned inwards, and he sees his organs possibly by the Od-light they give out.