=Subconscious perceptions=.—It is not difficult to show that perceptions of the environment which _never even entered the fringe of the personal consciousness, i.e., of which the individual was never even dimly aware_, may be conserved. Indeed, the demonstration of their conservation is one of the important pieces of evidence for the occurrence of coconscious perception and, therefore, of the splitting of consciousness. Mrs. Holland, both by automatic writing and in hypnosis, describes perceptions of the environment (objects seen, etc.) of which she was not aware at the time. Miss B. and B. C. A. recall, in hypnosis and by automatic writing, paragraphs in the newspapers read through casual glances without awareness thereof. The same is true of perceptions of the environment experienced under experimental conditions as well as fortuitously. I have made a large number of experiments and other observations of this kind, and have been in the habit of demonstrating before the students at my lectures this evidence of coconscious perception. A simple method is to ask a suitable subject to describe the dress of some person in the audience, or of objects in the environment; if he is unable to do this, then to attempt to obtain as minute a description as possible by automatic writing or verbally after he has been hypnotized. It is often quite surprising to note with what detail the objects which almost entirely escaped conscious observation are subconsciously perceived and remembered. Sometimes the descriptions of my students have been quite embarrassing from their naïve truthfulness to nature. The following is an example of such an observation: I asked B. C. A. (without warning and after having covered her eyes) to describe the dress of a friend who was present and with whom she had been conversing for perhaps some twenty minutes. She was unable to do so beyond saying that he wore dark clothes. I then found that I myself was unable to give a more detailed description of his dress, although we had lunched and been together about two hours. B. C. A. was then asked to write a description automatically. Her hand wrote as follows (she was unaware that her hand was writing): “He has on a dark greenish gray suit, a stripe in it—little rough stripe; black bow-cravat; shirt with three little stripes in it; black laced shoes; false teeth; one finger gone; three buttons on his coat.” The written description was absolutely correct. The stripes in the coat were almost invisible. I had not noticed his teeth or the loss of a finger and we had to count the buttons to make sure of their number owing to their partial concealment by the folds of the unbuttoned coat. The shoe strings I am sure, under the conditions, would have escaped nearly everyone’s observation.