ire City, Ohio, utterly ignorant of who he was or where he came from
or where he was going to. He had a little money in his pocket, and in
his hand a small port-manteau which contained a pair of scissors and a
change of linen. He was well dressed, and on stating at the nearest
hotel his strange condition and asking for a bed, was received as a
guest. In the evening he went out and attended a temperance lecture.
Excited by the eloquence of the speaker, he was seized with an
uncontrollable impulse, rushed from the room and began to smash with a
club the windows of a neighboring tavern. The roughs ran out of the
saloon and beat him very badly, breaking his arm: this brought him to
the police-station, and thence to the hospital. For months every effort
was made to identify him, but at the date of reporting without avail. He
was known in the hospital as "Ralph," that name having been found on his
underclothing. His knowledge upon all subjects unconnected with his
identity is correct: his mental powers are good, and he has shown
himself expert at figures and with a pen. For a long time it was thought
that he was feigning, but every one about him was finally convinced that
he is what he says he is--namely, a man without knowledge of his
personal identity. This curious case, which is by no means unparalleled
in the annals of psychological medicine, shows how distinct memory is
from consciousness. Memory of the past was in Ralph entirely abolished
so far as concerned his own personality, but consciousness was perfect,
and the results of previous mental training remained, as is shown by his
use of figures. It was as though there was a dislocation between
consciousness and the memory of self.

The distinctness of consciousness from memory is also shown by dreams.
Events which have passed are often recalled during the unconsciousness
of sleep. The curious although common carrying of the memory of a dream
over from the unconsciousness of sleep to the consciousness of waking
movements further illustrates the complete distinction between the two
cerebral functions.

If memory, then, be not part of consciousness, what is its nature? There
is a law governing nervous actions both in health and disease which is
known as that of habitual action. The curious reflex movements made by
the frog when acid is put upon its foot, as detailed in my last paper,
were explained by this law. The spinal cord, after having frequently
performed a certain