Philosophers have supposed that the passion of love arises from a kind of “souffle,”—an emanation of the one person sensibly received through the “odorat” of another. Indeed, the phenomena of love are extraordinary enough: do we unconsciously mesmerise each other? I knew a man who, on a visit to a friend, accidentally went with him to a house in the neighbourhood, where was a lady, neither very young nor handsome, nor did she enter into conversation with him; but he looked at her, and she at him. The friends did not remain half an hour in the house. On leaving it, the visitor said to his host—”That woman will be my wife;” and so it was. Was this in the breathing, or in the eye?—was it mesmeric?—does the serpent’s eye fascinate?