I return to the case observed by me. The obstinacy of even the best and most moral of these personalities in refusing to expose themselves to any control whatsoever, the falsehoods they were imprudent enough to overlook, and the critical attitude of mind of the sensitive himself, awakened a spirit of distrust in the latter. He began to observe himself, and the first result of his observation of the conditions under which the writing was produced, was the gradual disappearance of the sensation of impulse which he had felt: his pencil, he told me, had seemed to follow a magnet. As this sensation weakened and disappeared, so the personifications affected to be either grievously pained, or cold and dignified, or frankly insolent; they all deplored the sensitive’s incredulity. The relation bade him adieu and appeared no more; Hymaladar himself ceased to be interested in his _chela_. The sensitive soon saw the futility of his efforts, and the writing ceased completely to present the peculiarity it had offered during several weeks. This case is instructive, because it is on the borderline between conscious and unconscious phenomena. Thanks to the clear and complete indications on the part of the sensitive, I was able to reconstitute the genesis of every personality. That of the relation is easily explained, but Hymaladar was more rebellious to analysis. Upon investigation it appeared to me to be the synthesis of the words Hymalaya and Damodar. The one, which quite naturally evokes the thought of India, is the dwelling-place of the sages who, it appears, preside in a very secret manner at the evolution of the theosophical movement; the disciple or _chela_ of one of them was the guru, the master of Madame Blavatsky. His name was Damodar. The associated ideas—Blavatsky, India, Hymalaya, Damodar—lead up to the word _Hymala_ (ya Damo) _dar_; the genesis of the word is thus quite comprehensible.