self-observation. It is a great disadvantage that strict self-observation often prevents the induction of hypnosis ; but on the other hand I think that our neglect of self-observation is the reason of our failure to explain many hypnotic phenomena clearly. It is true that some trustworthy investigators, such as Bleuler, Forel, Obersteiner, North, Heidenhain, and others have helped a little by their accounts of their personal experiences in the hypnotic state ; but such observations should be made oftener by intelligent people ; they would be valuable to investigators. An explanation of hypnosis drawn from the material already accumulated cannot be given in a few words, since the symptoms alone are so complex. Besides, I think it probable (and Braid was of the same opinion) that a great number of different states are included in the concept "hypnosis," and that an exact classification of them is not possible at present, though it surely will be later. Under these circumstances I think it best to discuss the most commonly observed and best established phenomena of hypnosis singly, and to explain them when possible. I must give up any attempt at completeness and detail in order not to make the theoretical explanation too long; I reserve this for another work. The chief points which I shall try to explain in what follows are—(1) the phenomena of suggestion as regards voluntary movement ; (2) positive and negative delusions of the senses ; (3) rapport; (4) the phenomena of memory; (5) post-hypnotic suggestion. I will discuss these points one by one and try to explain them in the manner described above. It may be thought, on a superficial view, that it would be more important to examine the way the methods employed induce hypnosis than to explain the separate symptoms; but to discuss this would be to dispute about words, because hypnosis hardly ever appears suddenly, but rather develops itself by degrees out of a series of symptoms. For example, the eyes close first; then suggestion induces a heaviness in the arm, and then the arm is paralyzed ; a suggested sense delusion follows. Hypnosis develops itself nearly if not quite always in this way ; one symptom is added to another. Consequently to explain the separate symptoms is to explain the mode of production of hypnosis ; the reader will find that the one explanation involves the other. This fact will become clear when the abnormal functions of the muscles are explained.

We shall understand the different symptoms of hypnosis much more easily if we first examine two phenomena. These phenomena might be laid down as laws of the psychical states of human beings, though they would be laws with many exceptions. They are not generally enough considered, but they are of immense importance to psychology, physiology, and medicine, as well as to hypnotism. These rules are— (1) men have a certain proneness to allow themselves to be influenced by others through their ideas, and in particular to believe much without making conscious logical deductions ; (2) a psychological or physiological effect tends to appear in a man if he is expecting it.

Let us begin by considering the first point. There are people who believe that they can escape external psychical influences ; but they are wrong, since observation shows that every one is more or less influenced by ideas (Bentivegni, Bernheim). Life is full of such influences, and they will work so long as there is mental activity among men. The desire for society, the necessity of exchanging opinions, show the need we feel of influencing and being influenced by ideas. If we want to convert a political opponent we try to influence him by arousing certain ideas in him. It is not mentally deficient people who are thus accessible to ideas. There is in every man a gap where these ideas can enter. It is well known that the greatest people and most distinguished scholars are often dominated by some inferior individual who has discovered the gap where his ideas will enter.

In the same way men have a tendency to believe things without complete logical proof; we will call this quality credulity. Those who contend that men are not credulous, show that they are themselves incapable of reflection (Forel). There is no man who believes only what has been logically proved to him. Our sense perceptions show us this in the clearest way ; we hardly ever consciously reason upon them, and yet the thing which we take for an external object is only in reality an act of our minds, which in no way corresponds with the unknown object, the "thing in itself," as Kant calls it. Most people confuse the subjective idea of an object with the object itself (Spencer). This mistake, which we make incessantly with regard to our sense perceptions, proves that we do not use conscious logical thought. But when we consider our behaviour with regard to dogmatic assertions, and to assertions often repeated, this credulity is made particularly clear. It leads us to dogmatic belief. Children are most influenced by it, but adults are also under its jurisdiction.

As children are particularly credulous of dogmatic assertions, and as such credulity is strongly marked in hypnosis, this state has often been compared to childhood (Copin, Miescher, Cullerre, Wernicke). But I must point out that in this comparison childhood and infancy are confused. To make the comparison possible we must choose a period of childhood in which ideas can be incorporated into the existing consciousness, not the period of infancy, in which consciousness is hardly formed.

I will give a simple example of the credulity of childhood with regard to dogmatic belief. I was told at school that the North Cape was the north point of Europe. This was not logically proved to me ; yet I believed it because it was in the book, and more especially because the teacher said so. Dogmatic assertion influences not only children but adults; and the constant repetition of an assertion has also a great power. This is shown in the clearest way by an incident which is particularly interesting to us. A few years ago it was believed that there was really no such thing as hypnotism, and that those who believed in it were deceived. But since that time opinion has entirely changed. The representations made by different people in authority as to the reality of the hypnotic phenomena, and particularly the repeated assertions of numerous investigators, have caused a complete change of view. Doctors and others have changed their minds about hypnotism, not because it has been proved to them, but exclusively because they have been influenced by constantly hearing and reading the same assertions about it, and by their faith in authority.

I hope that the above explanations, which every one can add to from his own experience, sufficiently prove what I said above—that all men are credulous to a certain degree. Now for the second of my propositions—i.e., that an effect on himself which a man expects tends to appear. We can find a great number of these phenomena in ordinary life; they are mysterious and astonishing only when we neglect to consider this tendency. Carpenter, Hack Tuke, and many English investigators have besides admitted that these phenomena are of great importance. I will now describe some of them.

People who suffer from sleeplessness have often been sent to sleep by taking something which they were told was a sleeping draught, but which was really some inert substance. They slept because they expected to do so. When they learn that the medicine is not a sleeping draught they no longer expect sleep, and do not sleep. It appears from this that to expect a state, and to wish for it, are essentially different things; which fact is often strangely enough overlooked. A great many people wish for sleep, but as they do not expect it, it does not come. Some other examples will show that this principle is generally valid ; for example, the fatigue that is felt at the usual bedtime may be mentioned. We see how much habit has to do with it; when people have been long used to go to bed at a certain time, they generally feel tired just at that time (Forel). The rule holds good for the functions of the motor organs as well as the others. We will take a case of hysterical paralysis ; it is well known that such a paralysis is sometimes cured at the exact moment the patient expects. Many mysterious effects may be thus explained. Hysterical patients can often foretell an improvement in their paralyses. This gift of prophecy need not astonish us if we think of this rule ; the connection is not what believers in the gift of prophecy think; for the hysterical patient is cured at a particular time because he expects to be—the prophecy causes its own fulfilment.

Of course there are exceptions to the rule. However much a sufferer from severe myelitis may expect his paralyzed legs to move they will not do so, because the impediments are too great to be over-come by this natural tendency of expectation to produce an effect. There are other impediments which, though they do not interfere with the tendency as such prevent its taking effect.

Another example. People are often sick when theyexpect to be sick at a particular time, and particularly if they think they have taken an emetic ; and they stammer when they expect to stammer.

Many observations show that the above rule holds good for the organs of sense under particular circumstances ; the following case of Carpenter's is related by Bentivegni. A judicial disinterment was to be made ; the grave was opened, and the coffin raised ; the official who was present said that he already smelt putrefaction, but when the coffin was opened it was found to be empty. Here expectation caused a distinct sense perception. There are many examples of this. Yung has made a series of experiments, and has shown that the sense of touch and the sense of temperature are particularly subject to delusion, and that certain perceptions occur when they are expected without external stimuli. I myself have often repeated the following experiments of Braid, Weinhold and others. I blindfolded certain persons, doctors among the number, or I simply made them closetheir eyes. I then told the subject that he was going to be mesmerized ; and even when this was not true, he generally imagined he felt the current of air caused by the passes ; he believed he knew the exact moment when the passes were begun. Here again wesee expectation produce a perception. Many people begin to feel the pain of an operation almost before the knife has touched them, simply because their whole attention is fixed upon the pain and the beginning of the operation.

The principle has other effects. Forel and many others mention that there are certain popular methods of slightly retarding menstruation. In one town many of the young women tie something round their little finger if they wish to delay menstruation for a few days in order to go to a ball, &c. The method is generally effectual, but when faith ceases the effect also ceases.

I hope that what has been said sufficiently explains the second rule mentioned above.

I go on to discuss single phenomena of hypnosis ; the functional disturbances of voluntary movement first. These arc seen in every hypnosis, as I said before in speaking of the symptoms ; they are almost always the first symptom, even when there are other changes. The principle just developed, that an expected functional abnormality comes on when expected if it is not hindered by mechanical or other insuperable obstacles, best explains the abnormalities of the voluntary movements. But to understand this thoroughly, the hypnosis should be induced by slow degrees, as in this case the motor disturbances are plainer.

Now, the previous discussion makes it evident that to produce any motor disorder in a subject (X.) who is at present in a perfectly normal state, we must first of all draw his attention to the desired effect, and make him firmly expect it; that is, we must be able to place the conviction in the foreground of the subject's thoughts, or, as Fechner and Wundt express it, in the range of his inner perspective. If we succeed in capturing the subject's attention to such a point that he firmly believes something—e.g., that his arm will be paralyzed—the paralysis will generally happen.

Itwould evidently be unfavourable if the subject should reflect and criticize while the attempt to direct his attention was being made. If he does so an effectual concentration of his attention is impossible. Numerous other conditions must be fulfilled before we can make an idea dominate the subject's attention ; these conditions are for the most part the same which I mentioned as favouring the coming on of hypnosis, when I was speaking of its production. It is clear, therefore, that the surroundings, the subject's mental state as well as the manner of the experimenter's entrance, play a great part. The favourable influence of imitation is also easily explicable ; for these things may greatly influence the subject's expectation of the effect. For example, a person who has seen paralysis induced by certain passes in another subject's arm, will be much more likely to let the same phenomenon be induced in himself, than would another who had not seen it.

Supposing such a paralysis induced, the subject's mental balance is already disturbed. If a man can-not voluntarily move his arm he feels at once that his will is weakened ; a mental state ensues which Pierre Janet often calls " misere psychique " ; a peculiar feeling of weakened will-power. This feeling is very important; by means of it the subject's power of resistance is lessened more and more. When one limb has been paralyzed it is easier to paralyze a second, because the subject already doubts his own will-power. Thus, when the subject can no longer voluntarily move a limb, or part of it, very much has been gained for further susceptibility to suggestion, because the consciousness of weakness favours the acceptance of later suggestions. The development of suggestibility need no longer astonish us, since we have found the clue to its production.

I have endeavoured to explain the disturbances of the muscular functions in their gradual development, as it were ; this development is in many cases nearly identical with that of hypnosis, which, as we have seen, is often merely an inhibition of the voluntary muscular functions. Many of the methods used to induce hypnosis are alike in one particular—they direct the subject's attention to some change in the functions of the muscles. The method of the school of Nancy consists chiefly in making the subject expect the closing of his eyes as strongly as possible, though this method also aims at producing the dream-consciousness, of which I shall speak later. But other methods induce abnormalities in the functions of single limbs in just the same way. For example, an arm or leg loses its power to move when I concentrate the attention of the subject upon the loss of power to move. In fact, it is quite unnecessary to begin with the eyes, as the school of Nancy does ; we can begin with any member, as Max Dessoir rightly insists.

As a fact, it does not matter whether the first motor disturbance is a muscular action performed against the subject's will—i.e., a certain movement which the subject makes at command—or whether it is an inability to move, caused also by a command. The great thing is to gain enough influence over the subject. In any case we should begin with the disturbance which is the easiest to induce, because one success increases the experimenter's influence. Now as a rule it is easier to inhibit an action than to cause it, as daily observation shows. An example may make this clear. We assure a person whose arm is stretched out that he is tired and cannot hold it out any longer. In almost all cases there is a momentary pull downwards; i.e., there is an inclination to lower the arm. This shows that there is often susceptibility to suggestion without hypnosis. I will briefly recapitulate ; the disturbances of voluntary movement induced by suggestion in hypnosis are caused by the experimenter's directing the attention of the subject as strongly as possible to the desired effect. When the attempt has once succeeded, further disturbances may be more easily induced, since the subject is already persuaded of his inability to resist. This principle of the effects of expectant attention illustrated above is nowhere shown more plainly than in the voluntary movements. It is even not always necessary that a movement should be very attentively expected ; the idea of the movement will induce it. Let a man bend his arm at the elbow at right angles, and think that the arm will bend quickly, without expecting it to do so ; if he fixes his whole attention on this idea the movement will very soon follow. This shows again how great is the tendency to make a certain movement when the subject concentrates his whole attention on that one point. If expectation is added to attention the effect will be so much the greater.

I now come to the discussion and explanation of sense delusions ; first of all, of the positive kind.

Are we not exposed to such delusions otherwise than inhypnosis? Take first a very simple example of Max Dessoir's. I say to some one who is quite awake, " A rat is running behind you." The man can assure himself at once by turning round that there is no rat, butaccording to experience he will have a mental image of a rat for a moment, because I spoke of it ; i.e. there is already a trace of hallucination.

Modern psychology, following such men as Dugald Stewart and Taine, generally supposes that every idea includes an image, e.g., the idea of a knife includes an image of a knife. As further every central image tends to externalize itself, as Stuart Mill in particular has explained, when an idea is aroused, there is always a tendency to externalize the corresponding image, i.e., there is a tendency to hallucination. We have thus a tendency to take the remembered image of former sense perceptions for real objects (Binet, Fere).

So in the case of the rat there is a transitory hallucination. Its persistence is prevented in two ways. Firstly, the man could convince himself by means of his senses that no rat was there. Secondly, reflection and the logical grouping of former pictures of memory would convince him that no rat was present. The two factors would suffice to prevent the persistence of the suggested delusion. A simple consideration shows that sense perceptions are not always needed to prevent hallucination. Tell a person whose eyes are shut that a rat is running in front of him. Without opening his eyes he is convinced of the contrary, and says it is not true. Although the image of the rat arises in his mind for a moment, it does not grow into a definite sense delusion, because reflection and memory prevent it. It is not the sense perceptions which prevent it ; calm, critical reflection is enough. This is often of more value in preventing a threatening hallucination than the perceptions.

We have thus learned to distinguish the different effects of a suggested hallucination in the waking and in the hypnotic states ; we have seen that in the latter the hallucinations arise absolutely without any new factor. They increase in strength and persistence because they are not hindered by sense perceptions or critical reflection. It must now be asked, Are there states analogous to these also ?

We must make it perfectly clear that we have a beam-consciousness completely distinct from the waking consciousness (Ed. v. Hartmann), in which feelings and perceptions do not occur at all in the same way as in the waking consciousness. When we wake from sleep we are able to distinguish dream-consciousness from waking life simply by recollection. We know whether what we dreamed was only a dream, or whether it was real (Bentivegni). It is true that in dreams ideas are reproduced and perceptions felt, but in two respects (according to Wundt) this conciousness differs from that of waking life. In the first place the remembered ideas have a hallucinatory character, i.e., we try in dreams to objectify the images of memory ; we do not recognize that they are images of memory as we do in waking life, but believe that we see, feel, &c, the real object to which they correspond. In the same way external impressions do not produce normal perceptions, but illusions. In the second place, in dreams the faculty of perception is changed ; i.e., the power of judging the experiences of which we are conscious is essentially altered. It is just this peculiarity of the dream-consciousness (mentioned by Wundt) which is found in the consciousness of such hypnotic subjects as are accessible to suggested sense delusions. There is no need to enter into details on this point, as it has been thoroughly discussed in the chapters on " Symptoms " and " Cognate States." The chief point is the hallucinatory character of the images of memory; faintly indicated in normal states, in dream-consciousness it is extremely plain, and appears in hypnosis in connection with illusions, to which dream-consciousness is also favourable. But we may be sure that such a dream-consciousness is by no means a strange and new thing, since it is often found in ordinary sleep ; or, rather, it seems to be habitual in sleep, as has just been shown. The production of this peculiar dream-consciousness is one of the chief points in hypnotizing. The question is, how is it brought about; is there a causal connection between dream-consciousness and the induction of hypnosis ? I need not discuss this at length, since we already know that children may be talked to in sleep. In adults dream-consciousness only appears in hypnosis when they have been sent to sleep by some methods like those used to induce ordinary sleep. As we have seen, hypnosis is generally induced mentally. Now, Forel, Liebeault, and many other investigators say that natural sleep is the immediate result of a mental process—an auto-suggestion of sleep, in fact. I do not contend that the products of tissue waste in the body may not produce sleep without arousing the idea of it, but it is a fact that in many cases—whether in all must be left undecided at present—we fall asleep merely because we have the idea of sleep, and are convinced we shall sleep. As sleep is only a particular state of consciousness, it is not clear why we cannot induce certain people to sleep by telling them to do so, when we are hypnotizing them. We can talk people into all sorts of states of consciousness; the priest, the popular orator do so every day. Why can we not induce dream-consciousness in a like way, as is often done as a matter of fact when children are put to sleep ?

It is true that in many cases dream-consciousness can be induced in hypnosis by means which have nothing to do with the induction of sleep ; for example, when, a hypnotic subject fixes his gaze and his eyes finally close, this does not appear to be the induction of a state of sleep. Nevertheless,I think that sleep comes on, even when it is not purposely suggested. Sleep may be brought on by the feeling of heaviness in the eyes, through association of ideas (Forel); for some people are in the habit of staring fixedly at a point in order to tire their eyes and bring on their ordinary sleep. For these reasons, about which I cannot enter into more details here, I believe that when a hallucination happens in hypnosis, some means of inducing dream-consciousness have always been used. Even those hypnoses in which hallucinations happen without previous closing of the eyes do not contradict this, since the dream-consciousness is not necessarily connected with the closing of the eyes. It sometimes comes on when the eyes are open, as is seen in cases of spontaneous somnambulism. After what has been said we can find an explanation of sense delusions in the analogy between these hypnotic states and sleep. Certainly we do not know why sense delusions happen in ordinary sleep. I have not space to enter into the different attempts at explanation which have been made, and, besides, it would be useless. But I think it will provisionally help us in examining hypnosis if we take the hypnotic states in which there are pronounced sense delusions, as completely corresponding with ordinary sleep and its dream-consciousness. In both states certain impressions of external origin (memory pictures, or mere stimulations of the senses) induce sense delusions. It is only necessary that the impression which causes the delusion should affect the sleeper deeply enough.

These conclusions lead to a discussion of rapport. This rapport causes the subject to be more influenced by certain impressions than by others, and to respond to them by corresponding sense delusions. I shall speak of rapport briefly, as I am preparing a detailed publication about it. According to Noizet and Bertrand, who have been joined lately by Liebeault, Bernheim, Forel, and others, rapport is a state of sleep in which the attention of the subject is fixed exclusively upon the hypnotizer, so that the idea of him is constantly present in the subject's memory. On this account Bertrand compared these processes to the falling asleep of a mother by her child's cradle. She continues to watch over it in sleep ; she hears the least sound it makes, but no other sounds. This analogy may explain the peculiar influence which a hypnotizer has over his subject. The subject has fallen asleep with the thought of the hypnotizer in his mind, and hears only what he says, as in the case of the mother and child.

It is also not strange that this influence should increase in the course of hypnotic training, as we see that the influence which one person has over another in normal circumstances grows with exercise. No new psychical law is to be found in hypnosis.

When we go on to discuss the negative hallucinations and the way they originate in hypnosis, we remark two things: firstly, that the subject does not see certain objects or hear certain noises, &c.; secondly, and more particularly, that the objects he does not see are just those he is forbidden by the hypnotist to see. I have mentioned that many things are not seen and heard in normal circumstances when the attention is not directed to them. These facts are not astonishing, but the way they originate in hypnosis is striking. If I tell a waking man who has a chair in front of him, " There is nothing there, neither chair nor table," he will see the chair in spite of what I say; but the hypnotic subject will not see it, at least if he is susceptible to negative hallucination. Now we can regard this process in the hypnotic as a diversion of the attention, like that in the waking man who fails to perceive things which stimulate his organs of sense.

This is shown in particular by those hallucinations which vanish the moment the attention is drawn to the hallucinatory object. We can see clearly in such cases that the negative hallucination was caused by the diversion of the attention from the object, and that the direction of the attention to it was a counter-suggestion. I say to a subject, " When you wake, X. will have gone away." When he wakes and is asked how many people are present, he says, " Two ; you and I." I then point out X., and tell the subject to look at him. Then he sees X., and the suggestion has lost its effect.

But in any case the mode of origin is remarkable. For just because I told the hypnotic subject the chair was not there, he did not see it; but if I told a man in the normal state that the chair was not there, he would be all the more certain to see it. My remark would draw his attention to it. How can we explain the completely opposite result with the hypnotic subject ?

According to Binet and Fere, another factor must be added to the diversion of the attention ; before it can be attained a conviction that the chair is not there must be first established in the subject. Without this there would hardly be a negative hallucination.

It is a certain fact, observable without hypnosis, that such an established conviction favours negative hallucinations.

Let us suppose a man occupied with work in some place which is generally quiet, and where he does not expect noise ; let us suppose some noise is made ; the man will not perceive it. Yet he would have heard the same noise if he had known beforehand that it would be made. In just the same way he would fail to see a spark of light if he had the conviction beforehand that no light was there, but would perceive it if he expected it. The expectation of an effect is very favourable to its appearance. Consequently we have here another analogy between hypnotic and non-hypnotic processes.

We see, then, that under normal circumstances the conviction that a thing is not there makes it probable it will not be perceived. If we make use of this principle to explain negative hallucinations in hypnosis we must ask, How is the conviction that a thing is not there established in the subject ? We must come back to his subjective feelings of weakened will and dependence. A whole series of experiments which have convinced the subject of his weakness has generally been made before the negative hallucination succeeds. When he is once convinced that everything really happens which the hypnotist says, he will believe him more and more. The hypnotist has generally made many suggestions of movement to him, and has induced in him the positive hallucinations of which I have given an explanation above. Consequently we cannot feel surprised that the subject inclines to believe him when he is told by him that some object is not there.

Nevertheless these two factors, the diversion of the subject's attention and the conviction established in him, do not suffice to explain negative hallucinations. However firmly he believes the hypnotist, without such motives as would induce belief under normal circumstances (as Bentivegni rightly points out), this does not alone explain such mistakes of the sense perceptions as are found in negative hallucinations. A completely changed state of consciousness must be added if we wish to understand negative hallucinations ; the dream-consciousness again, which helped us to understand positive delusions of the senses. For dream-consciousness is not only distinguished by the reappearance of former memory pictures as hallucinations ; it is also characterized by the fact that sense impressions which under normal circumstances become feelings and perceptions induce in it no feeling or perception. To recapitulate : there are three factors for the production of negative hallucinations : firstly, dream-consciousness ; secondly, the conviction established in the subject of the absence of an object; and thirdly, the diversion of the attention which results from this.

We can explain the analgesia of some hypnotic subjects in a like manner. It is known that an expected pain is more acutely felt than an unexpected one. When any one believes that the effect of some stimulus will be painful he will feel the pain much sooner than he would if he did not expect it and believe in it. We see this in operations ; the subject feels much more pain when he expects the stroke of the knife and sees it than when it takes him unawares ; in the latter case he often feels hardly any pain. It is the same thing with analgesia in hypnosis. I still doubt whether there is ever an entirely spontaneous analgesia without suggestion, though I have mentioned it above. In any case analgesia is more usually induced by suggestion. Here again we may take it that the hypnotic subject has been preconvinced by the repeated assertions and suggestions of the hypnotist, and that he has in consequence an unreasoning credulity. If now the hypnotist firmly insists upon the analgesia, the subject will soon believe in and expect it, and this will greatly help him to it.

The phenomena of the memory must now be considered. Such a derangement of the memory as sometimes happens in hypnosis is certainly very striking, though it is clear at once that we can find many analogies in ordinary life. I need not, of course, discuss those hypnotic states in which there is no derangement of the memory.

But there are persons who, after waking from hypnosis, remember nothing of what has happened. It is also a well-known fact that we forget certain events, apart from hypnosis. We entirely forget certain mechanical actions, such as the winding of a watch. But some things done with reflection and in perfect consciousness are occasionally forgotten. We have here, then, an analogy to the forgetfulness of the hypnotic subject. But these analogies by no means explain the sudden and often nearly systematic forgetfulness in hypnotic states. We studied this phenomenon when discussing the memory before, and we also saw that the subject in hypnosis remembered all the events of preceding hypnoses, and of his waking life ; we called this " double consciousness." This requires special consideration. It is, indeed, a striking phenomenon that two complete and thoroughly separate states of consciousness can be induced and distinguished in a human being; so that in one, the waking life, the events of waking life only are remembered ; and in the other, the hypnotic state, the events of preceding hypnoses and of waking life. If we think of the life of such a being as divided into several periods, a, b, c, d, e,f,g, in the periods a, c, e,g, only the events of those periods will be remembered, so that in period c he will remember only what happened in a, and in period e what happened in a and c. On the other hand, in the periods b, d,f, both what has happened in them and in a, c, e, will be remembered. This is very remarkable, particularly when it happens spontaneously, i.e., without suggestion.

In order to explain this double consciousness I must return to Max Dessoir's theory of the " Doppel Ich," or double Ego ; I must, however, describe it exactly before it can be applied to our subject.

Max Dessoir supposes, with Pierre Janet, that human personality is a unity merely to our consciousness, but that it consists really of at least two clearly distinguishable personalities, each held together by its own chain of memories. He chooses several ways of establishing this principle. According to him many actions are done unconsciously, though of mental origin. I do not notice many automatic movements, e.g., rubbing the hands when they are cold, &c. The experiment made by Barkworth is more complicated than this. He can add up long rows of figures while carrying on a lively discussion, without allowing his attention to be at all diverted from the discussion.

This shows that, in the first place, there is an unconscious intelligence in men, as is seen in the rubbing of the cold hands, and in the second place, that there is an unconscious memory; for Barkworth, for example, must have at least two groups of figures in his memory, to make a third out of them; he must retain the third to add a fourth. But this chain of memory is independent of the other chain, by means of which he carries on the conversation (Max Dessoir). As, according to Max Dessoir, consciousness and memory are the two elements of personality, he supposes that in the above-mentioned case of Barkworth there are the elements of a second personality. The mental processes which take place consciously to the man are called the primary consciousness, and those which go on without his knowledge the secondary consciousness ; the action of both together is a state of double consciousness, or " doubled consciousness" (Max Dessoir). Thus in Barkworth's case the primary consciousness carried on the conversation, while the secondary one mechanically performed the addition.

To prevent confusion it should be impressed on the reader that what has hitherto been habitually called consciousness will for the future be called primary consciousness. Generally speaking " consciousness" means the sum of subjectively perceived mental processes. We must now give it a wider meaning. Consciousness falls into two halves, primary and secondary, and the primary consciousness is consciousness in the older sense of the word.

In the case above mentioned both consciousnesses exist together, but they may, under certain circumstances, follow one another. Max Dessoir tells of a case in which a person took up his dream on a second night where he had left off on the first. Here, then, the dream-consciousness tended to form a new chain of memories. The same author puts the following case of Macario's with the last: A girl who was outraged during an attack of spontaneous somnambulism knew nothing about it when she woke, and only told her mother of what had happened in her next attack. Such cases occur under morbid pathological conditions (cf. p. 128).

These cases in dream and in morbid conditions show the two consciousnesses following one another as the Barkworth case showed them co-existing. Max Dessoir mentions other examples in support of his view, but I am unable to go into them here.

To return to hypnosis. We have now to explain the state of double consciousness. Max Dessoir thinks that hypnosis simply exhibits the hidden half of our mental life ; the part which is called secondary consciousness and which can occasionally be observed in ordinary life, or more plainly in pathological states.

Although I believe that Max Dessoir includes too much in his idea of the double Ego {Doppel Ich), his explanations are none the less valuable for the consideration of the double consciousness in hypnosis. It is not necessary for our purpose to generalize this theory, as, though double consciousness is sometimes observed in hypnosis, it is by no means so common as some authors suppose. I shall return several times to this double consciousness, which, however, I do not conceive on the plan of Max Dessoir. Even if we suppose that hypnosis is simply the demonstration by experiment of the pre-existing double consciousness, the question of the causal connection between the origin of hypnosis and this demonstration still remains unanswered. Perhaps we may call in dream-consciousness again ; it may be that it is induced by the originating of hypnoses, and may complete the secondary consciousness. Delboeuf, who by no means accepts the sharp division of the primary and secondary consciousness, identifies the hypnotic phenomena entirely with nightly dreams, as far as the subsequent recollection is concerned. In this case we could explain the causal connection between the production of hypnosis and the appearance of double consciousness in the same way as we explain sense delusions by the experimental induction of dream-consciousness. I will not go into further details with regard to the phenomena of memory during hypnosis, as I have already mentioned many analogies in speaking of the symptoms.

The post-hypnotic suggestions will occupy us a little longer, because, in a certain sense, they can be explained by analogy. For this purpose I will choose some action induced by post-hypnotic suggestion, and will suppose it to be a case of hypnosis without subsequent loss of memory.

Here is an analogous case in waking life. I give a letter to X., who has called on me, and ask him to post it on his way home, if he passes a letter-box. This he does.

I now give exactly the same commission to Y., who is in a hypnotic state, without subsequent loss of memory.

In both cases my commission is executed. Now the question is, What is the difference between the two cases ? In the case of Y., one circumstance may strike us, i.e., that he did the act without, or perhaps against, his will.

The fact that Y. posted the letter without willing to do so does not distinguish his case from X.'s. X. walked home with Z. and talked all the way. He passed a pillar-box, and though he continued to talk, and apparently did not notice the box, he mechanically threw the letter into it. Later it occurred to him that he had the letter to post; he had a faint recollection of having done it. He could, however, convince himself of the fact by feeling in his pocket for the letter. We see, then, that he executed the commission without conscious will.

It would be more striking if X. should do some such action against his will. In the action described this was not the case. He would not have executed the commission if his will had not consented. Also, he would have remembered the action if his will had opposed it. There must always be consciousness when the will is exerted to prevent something. There must be an idea of the action to be performed. What is striking in post-hypnotic suggestion is exactly the fact that it is carried out against the will, in which case the subject of course knows what is to be done and has an idea of it. It is this idea which causes a post-hypnotic action to be carried out in spite of the will.

The question now is whether we can find an analogy to this in waking life, whether an idea can in this case cause a motor or other effect in spite of the will. The answer must be, " Very commonly."

We saw, when talking of suggestion in the waking state, that an idea is sometimes enough to cause an action or a particular state in spite of the will. This is a common occurrence. We will suppose that A. has lost a dear relation. A. is in consequence sad and depressed, and cannot refrain from tears. Months pass, and he grows calm ; but when the anniversary of the death arrives he falls again into the same state of mental excitement and tears, which he cannot conquer. The vivid idea has been enough to throw him, against his will, into a certain state.

A person who stammers is in the same case. Alone at home he can speak quite well, but a stranger comes in and he begins to stammer. He stammers because he thought he should stammer, and his will ispowerless both over the thought and the stammering; We see the samesort of thing constantly, and certain states of illness are induced merely by a vivid expectation of them ; they then come on in spite of the will. Accordingly it is not astonishing that a post-hypnotic suggestion should succeed against the subject's will.

The post-hypnotic movements and actions carried out in spite of the will—or, to speak more exactly, in spite of the wish—have a great likeness to the instinctive movements well known in Psychology, which are often made to satisfy a pleasure which follows from the act. Such instinctive movements are entirely independent of the will ; they take place in spite of the wish. For example, the raising of the hand to ward off danger is an instinctive movement (Wundt). Here there may very well be an idea of the movement, though deeper mental processes compel its execution, as in many cases of post-hypnotic suggestion carried out in spite of the will. It is the same thing in cases of so-called impulsive mania. The patients act without clear ideas of their motives. Their actions appear to be impelled by instinct, though they are consciously carried out (Schule).

I have now considered why post-hypnotic suggestions are carried out without, or in spite of, the will. I supposed a case in which the subject remembered the order given him in hypnosis after he woke; i.e., I considered only those cases in which there was no loss of memory in waking. It is a more enigmatic question, why post-hypnotic suggestions are carried out when there is loss of memory after waking, and the subject in consequence is apparently unconscious of having received the command.

For explanation let us return to the case of waking life, where X. was to post a letter. I point out that

X. did not keep the request continually in his consciousness, and that he even apparently posted the letter unconsciously; yet he would not have; performed the action at all if he had not really remembered my request.

It is the same in post-hypnotic suggestion.. It really remains in the memory, and the unconstiousness is only apparent. All post-hypnotic suggestions are merely apparently forgotten between waking and fulfilment. To prove this I must digress a little and go back to the primary consciousness, which is the name given to our subjective mentally perceived processes, while the unperceived ones are called the secondary consciousness.

The state of the primary consciousness is not uniform, but, on the contrary, subject to constant changes. In one period we are conscious of ideas which are wanting in others. One period comprises more than another. Now, if we call the sum of mental processes perceived in one state a sphere of consciousness, we may suppose a number of such spheres. But not to complicate the subject too much, we; will suppose two spheres, which will answer our purpose.

We saw, when discussing the memory, that the hypnotic subject who forgot the events of hypnosis in waking life remembered them in later hypnosis. But he remembered the events of waking life also in hypnosis, though in waking life he was only conscious of the events of that life. We have, then two different spheres of consciousness here: one comprises the events of hypnosis and of waking life, the other only those of waking life. They follow one another.

During waking life there are only memory pictures of this life in the primary consciousness; in the secondary consciousness there are memory pictures of the hypnotic state, i.e., the impressions of hypnosis are received, but do not rise into the primary consciousness. But it must not be thought that the two consciousnesses are completely separated. Impressions made on the secondary consciousness occasionally rise to the primary. Upon this fact depends the restoration of memory through association of ideas, spoken of on p. 125. It can also be proved that the impressions of hypnosis by no means disappear in waking life, but are really firmly established in the brain.

To prove this I must digress again, and mention automatic writing. I owe my knowledge of this to Dr. Max Dessoir, whom I again thank for his unselfish and genuinely scientific help in the writing of this book. This automatic writing is of great interest and importance. It has been also observed among uncivilized peoples (Doolittle, Bastian).

I have had frequent occasion to speak of automatic movements and actions. To prevent confusion of ideas it should be expressly mentioned that I do not mean here by automatic movements, those so called by Liebeault and Bernheim, which Max Dessoir more justly calls continued movements (cf. p. 69). By automatic movements I here mean those of which we are unconscious at the moment they are made, though they show all the symptoms of a mental causation. When I walk my movements are nearly always automatic; I walk without being conscious of making the individual movements.

With regard to automatic writing, it should be mentioned that there are men who habitually move their fingers on the table while they are talking or thinking. When such people take a pencil in their hands they make all sorts of scribbled marks without observing it, while they are thinking of other things. This scribbling may be regarded as the beginning of automatic writing. It may take a certain rational form. Schiller says that when reflecting he has often covered whole sheets of paper with little horses (Max Dessoir). Other people automatically write letters and words, and this process is called automatic writing; it is evidently guided by a species of intelligence, as without it no rational words could be written. But this intelligence resides in the writer, though it may not be conscious in the ordinary sense of the word ; it is the secondary consciousness, which carries on movements and actions as does the primary consciousness, although the person concerned does not remark them. In any case the intelligence is innate in the person, and is part of him, and not an external force or spirit, as the spiritualists, who are also acquainted with it, and call it mediumistic writing, say it is.

I ask the reader to follow me through some experiments with automatic writing. I give a person who is not in hypnosis a pen or pencil and ask him to answer some question in writing—for example, what he had for dinner yesterday ; he is, however, to leave his hand passive and not write on purpose ; at the same time I put the point of the pencil on paper. It would not be strange that the person should write down something he is thinking of. It would remind us of the experiments in thought-reading described (p. 56). The person thinks of roast veal and the hand makes corresponding movements. But the process becomes rather different when I talk quietly to the writer meanwhile. I speak of the theatre, the weather, &c. ; in the meantime the hand writes "roast veal." It appears that this was yesterday's dinner. In this case the hand wrote without concentration of thought on the writer's part ; and this is already different from the usual thought-reading. A rational and true answer has been given to a direct question while a conversation was being carried on. As the writing was not noticed it follows that it was automatic. This automatic writing is certainly striking.

Now, though the writer did not know he was writing, he knew the fact which he unconsciously wrote down ; i.e., he knew that he had had roast veal for dinner yesterday. But there are also persons who will answer questions through automatic writing about things they do not know at all, e.g., when somebody is asked what he had for dinner every day last week, he will write down the whole list of dishes, though he does not know them himself, i.e., though they are not in his primary consciousness.

Such experiments are very good when made in hypnosis, and sense delusions, especially the negative ones, are made more intelligible by them, as was pointed out on p. 184. I suggest to X., in hypnosis, that A. and B., who are really present, have gone away. X. ceases entirely to respond to A. and B. ; he neither hears nor sees them. When I ask him who is present he says, " Only you and I "; upon which I give him a pencil and paper and command him to answer the question in writing. He writes, " Dr. Moll, Mr. A., Mr. B., and myself." Consequently he has answered the question intelligently, without knowing that he is writing. This shows that A. and B. were really perceived, but that X. was unconscious of the perception. We will now return to the starting-point of our discussion.

By means of automatic writing it can be proved that the impressions of hypnosis are really firmly lodged in the brain ; Gurney, F. Myers, and Pierre Janet have made a series of very good experiments on this point. X., for example, is waked from hypnosis and remembers nothing that has happened ; but when he is ordered to write automatically what was said to him he does it. Now, as he could not tell these things, and they are not to be found in the primary consciousness, these experiments in automatic writing prove that the impressions exist all the same. They disclose themselves in the automatic writing.

We have now to show why the post-hypnotic suggestion is carried out in spite of loss of memory. We have seen that this loss of memory only exists so far that the hypnotic events and the post-hypnotic suggestion are to be found in the secondary consciousness only. In any case, as I have shown, the loss of memory is only apparent, and the post-hypnotic suggestion is lodged in the secondary consciousness. And this, as I have also shown by automatic writing, acts with a certain intelligence, and without confusion in its proper chain of thought.

The foregoing explanations show, firstly, why a post-hypnotic suggestion is carried out without the will or in spite of it; and, secondly, why it is carried out in spite of the apparent forgetting of the command. A further question is this—Why is a posthypnotic suggestion carried out at the right moment ? The answer will differ according to the manner in which the moment for the execution of the suggestion Is decided. We already know (p. 142) that the moment may be appointed in numerous ways ; either by a concrete external sign—e.g., the striking of the clock—or by fixing an abstract period, or by counting signals or days.

In the case of the striking clock we shall find no new mental law; we find the same process quite commonly in normal life, it is a result of the association of ideas. The striking of the clock often reminds us of something we wanted to do at that particular time.

The same thing happens when we tie a knot in our handkerchiefs to remind ourselves of something. It occurs to me that I must write a letter to-morrow ; I make a knot in my handkerchief to remind myself of it. The knot and the letter are then associated in my consciousness, and when I see the knot the idea of the letter rises from my secondary into my primary consciousness. Memory is caused by association of ideas. Now we see the same thing in the example of posthypnotic suggestion on p. 142. The striking of the clock made the subject remember to take the water-bottle and walk up and down with it. This process of association is so powerful that it often takes effect even when the suggestion is not punctually carried out.

I hypnotize a man on Saturday and tell him," When you come in on Tuesday I shall cough three times ; you will then give me your hand and remark,' That is too stupid.' " The man does not come till Thursday, but the suggestion is carried out, merely because I cough.

We will take the second case where an abstract period of time was given instead of a definite sign. Here the idea lay in the secondary consciousness till it resulted in the corresponding action. An approximate but inexact calculation took place in the secondary consciousness.

For this also many analogies may be found in ordinary life. I say to A., " Remind me in an hour to write a letter." A. is busy, and thinks no more of the letter, but nevertheless reminds me of it after some time. But as he has not looked at the clock, he is not punctual : the case is quite analogous to posthypnotic suggestion, where there is generally no perfect punctuality.

Some people suppose that in the few cases of striking punctuality, some unconscious calculation of time takes place, like the unconscious regularity of our pulse and breathing. However that may be, there are certain persons who can calculate time with some exactitude when they are awake, and others can do the same in sleep ; they can wake themselves at a definite time without hearing the clock strike. In any case it is unnecessary to suppose that hypnotic subjects possess a peculiar faculty for fixing time which others do not.

The older mesmerists, Nasse and Eschenmayer for example, made investigations about this faculty of somnambulic subjects for exactly reckoning time. The ancient Hindoos studied it industriously. This subjective faculty for calculating time is sometimes called the mental clock (Kopfuhr) (Du Prel).

The third way of fixing time is by counting signals or days (cf. p. 142). Gurney's explanation of this is grounded on the division of the consciousness into primary and secondary, which I have explained above.

While the primary consciousness is busy talking to the experimenter the secondary consciousness works on independently. It remembers the command and counts the signals given ; e.g., the shuffling of feet, &c. When the tenth signal is given the suggestion is carried out, just as other suggestions are carried out at an appointed signal (cf. the example on p. 142).

Gurney endeavours to explain many long-deferred suggestions in just the same way. As we have seen, in these also the execution of the suggestion may he ordered at the end of a series of days and weeks instead of on a definite date (p. 142). This may be explained in two ways. Perhaps the subject calculates the date after he has been told the number of days or weeks. Against this there is the fact that the subjects, when hypnotized in the intervening time, cannot tell the date. On this account Gurney supposes an action of the secondary consciousness in such cases. He thinks that the subject counts the days in his secondary consciousness just as we consciously count days in waking life, and thus is able to carry out the suggestion. He thinks this all the more likely because when the subjects are hypnotized in the intervening time, they can count the days which have elapsed, and are to elapse, before the suggestion is carried out, though they do not know the exact date.

These different spheres of consciousness enable us to better understand those post-hypnotic suggestions which are carried out in a state of complete loss of memory ; for the suggested command is always accepted, even when the subject remembers nothing about it subsequently. The punctual execution of such a command is only comprehensible if, besides the primary consciousness, a secondary consciousness works intelligently in us.

The preceding explanations are chiefly intended to approximate as much as possible post-hypnotic suggestion to certain habitual occurrences. There is no question of a complete identification of them ; for many post-hypnotic suggestions can apparently be distinguished from all known processes of waking life in two ways. The subject does not remember the command when the hypnosis is over ; he is apparently unconscious of the idea of executing it; if he is spoken to about it after waking the idea cannot be recalled to his mind; and yet, in in spite of this, it arises at the time fixed. We forget much in ordinary life also ; but the recollection of a thing at a certain moment, which no hints or efforts can recall in the intermediate time, appears to me to be the first prerogative of many post-hypnotic suggestions ; a second is that it is not the command itself but the idea of its execution which is remembered.

And yet even these striking phenomena are by no means an absolute prerogative of hypnosis. We are reminded, in the first place, of those dominant ideas which are often pathological, and whose origin is for the most part unknown (Bentivegni). These ideas sometimes impel to actions (Krafft-Ebing) which the person concerned becomes under some circumstances powerless to control. Sometimes the origin of the idea is not to be discovered by questions or by any other means. If we hold fast to the principle of Locke, " Nil est in intellectu, quod non prius fuerit in sensu," we shall be obliged to suppose that some external event has formerly influenced the mind of the person concerned, but that the event itself is forgotten. None the less, it has an effect, which sometimes takes the form of a dominant idea and sometimes of an action caused by it (murder, suicide, incendiarism, &c.) (Krafft-Ebing). Here, exactly as in post-hypnotic suggestion, the external prompting impression is forgotten in the intervening time, as well as at the moment when the idea arises or the action is carried out.

But I think that it is not only under pathological conditions that some externally induced idea influences our actions, feelings, &c, without our being able by any means to remember how the idea was, so to speak, implanted in us. Let us suppose that a child two or three years old is often in the society of A. and B ; A. is kind and gentle, B hard and unkind, so that the child gradually learns to like A. and dislike B. Let us suppose that the child sees neither for a long time ; nevertheless when it does it will still like A. and dislike B. The child, who is now several years older, will not know its own reasons ; it will not remember the former conduct of A. and B.; no questions will bring this back to its memory ; yet the effect of the old impressions remains, and shows itself in the child's behaviour to A. and B. It is certain that the same thing happens after childhood. Sharp-sighted observers think it likely that a man may owe his preference for a particular profession—painting, for example— to some childish impression, such as dabbling with colours; in this case also the early impression is forgotten by the adult.

Besides, this occurrence is by no means confined to childhood. We are often influenced by unimportant expressions we have heard, though later we cannot trace back the effect to its cause. Our conduct with regard to persons, circumstances, and things is very often the effect of early unconscious impressions.

We now know that those hypnotic states in which there is subsequent loss of memory are by no means unconscious states, but that the impressions received are at the most only sub-conscious. Therefore the fact that the impressions received in hypnosis influence the waking conduct of the subject, though he has forgotten them, need no longer be an enigma to us. Like the waking people in the examples given, he will rather fully assimilate the external influence, will forget it, and act as if spontaneously ; or he will yield to an impulse, as in the cases of a dominant idea, without being conscious of its external cause.

I have hitherto spoken only of post-hypnotic movements and actions, and have endeavoured to explain the most important phenomena by means of analogy. I have still a few words to say about post-hypnotic sense delusions, which are less easy to explain. It is true that those which occur in a fresh hypnosis hardly present any substantial difficulty. We have seen that the subsequent loss of memory is only apparent, and that consequently the idea remains in the consciousness, though only in the secondary consciousness. Consequently it is not surprising that the suggested idea should at an appointed time transform itself into a sense delusion in a fresh hypnosis, which fresh hypnosis comes on through association when the idea reappears ; we must then explain the sense delusion by means of the dream-consciousness, as I have shown above.

It is quite another thing when the sense delusion appears without a new hypnosis. For example, I say to some one in hypnosis, " When I cough after you wake, you will see a pigeon sitting on the table ; you will remain thoroughly awake." The suggestion takes effect; the subject sees a pigeon where no pigeon is; but it is impossible to make him accept a further suggestion. That one point excepted, he seems perfectly normal. Whether, in spite of this, the total mental state of such people is really normal, will be discussed when we come to the legal side of the question. Bentivegni speaks very clearly on this point. Now, how can we explain this particular sense delusion ? We can hardly consider the dream-consciousness its cause, as this apparently is not present while the suggestion is taking effect. But we find like occurrences under different circumstances. I do not mention the hallucinations of insane persons, because it is exactly the addition of ot