Second, a patient in that condition is always conscious, subjectively, of all that happens around him. That is to say, no matter how profoundly the objective senses are locked in slumber, the subjective faculties are ever alert, and the subject recognizes, often with great acuteness, everything that goes on around him. This fact is not always recognized by hypnotists, and it is safe to say that ignorance of this one truth has been the source of more erroneous conclusions regarding the significance of hypnotic phenomena than all other causes combined. Hundreds of cases are reported where the patients noted all the preparations for burial and all that was said and done, and yet were unable to move or make the fact known that they were alive. This seems to be the universal testimony, although it is possible that the patient might not, in all cases, remember what he had experienced. In fact, it is common for hypnotic subjects to forget their experiences during the sleep; but that does not militate against the fact that they were subjectively conscious at that time. The conclusions derivable from these premises are as important as they are obvious. The first and most vital is that when a patient is suffering from a disease which will induce catalepsy, and begins to enter that state, the usual remarks and conversation of those at the bedside must inevitably tend to deepen and prolong the lethargy. The patient appears to be dying. The friends, by word and action, are conveying the impression that death is at hand. The physician feels the pulse, which grows fainter and fainter, until it is no longer perceptible. He examines the heart until its pulsations cease. Finally, he turns to the stricken friends, and in a solemn voice announces that all is over,--the patient is dead. Now, if it happens that it is merely a case of catalepsy, or suspended animation, the announcement by the physician that the patient is dead is an all-potent suggestion which is, and must inevitably be, seized upon by the subject and carried to its legitimate conclusion. A case of prolonged suspension of animation is the inevitable result, as the laws of hypnotism teach, if they teach anything. The patient actually believes that he is dead. The statement of this proposition seems almost ridiculous; but when it is remembered that no suggestion seems absurd or incongruous to the hypnotic subject, the proposition is seen at once to be an absolute verity. Who has not dreamed of being dead? Few, if any, have not had this experience; and yet the incongruity of the two ideas--of being dead and of calmly reflecting on the subject--never strikes the dreamer's subjective intelligence. Subjective impressions never seem absurd or incongruous to the subject. This principle runs through all subjective mental action, from the dreams of the healthy sleeper to the hallucinations of the monomaniac. Subjective intelligence, be it remembered, is capable