responses without any consciousness on the part of the agents of the
latent springs of their actions.' It is, apparently, to be
understood that, as the existence of latent unconscious knowledge
was traced in 'several' cases, therefore the explanation held good
in all cases, even where it could not be established as a fact.

Let us see how this theory works out in practice. Smith, Jones,
Brown and Robinson are sitting with their hands on a table. All, ex
hypothesi, are honourable men, 'above suspicion of intentional
deception'. They ask the table where Green is. Smith, Jones and
Robinson have no idea, Brown firmly believes that Green is in Rome.
The table begins to move, kicks and answers, by aid of an alphabet
and knocks, that Green is at Machrihanish, where, on investigation,
he is proved to be. Later, Brown is able to show (let us hope by
documentary evidence), that he _had_ heard Green was going to
Machrihanish, instead of to Rome as he had intended, but this
remarkable change of plans on Green's part had entirely faded from
Brown's memory. Now we are to take it, ex hypothesi, that Brown is
the soul of honour, and, like Mr. Facey Rumford, 'wouldn't tell a
lie if it was ever so'. The practical result is that, while Brown's
consciousness informs him, trumpet-tongued, that Green is at Rome,
'the residue of a forgotten impression' makes him (without his
knowing it) wag the table, which he does not intend to do, and
forces him to say through the tilts of the table, that Green is at
Machrihanish, while he believes that Green is at Rome.

The table-turners were laughed at, and many, if not all of them,
deserved ridicule. But see how even this trivial superstition
illuminates our knowledge of the human mind! A mere residuum of a
forgotten impression, a lost memory which Brown would have sworn, in