So I tried persuasion, and when that failed I simply locked you in." Now there are two sorts of superstition, each of which is the very antithesis of the other.

The victim of one believes all kinds of absurdities blindfold, oblivious of evidence or causality.

The upsetting of a salt-cellar or the fall of a mirror is to him a harbinger of disaster, entirely irrespective of any possible connection between the cause and the effect.

A bit of stalk floating on his tea presages an unlooked-for visitor, and the guttering of a candle is a sign of impending death.

All this he believes firmly, and acts upon, although he would candidly acknowledge his inability to explain the principle supposed to underlie the sequence between the omen and its fulfilment.