He handed me the slip of paper which had marked the place in the book.
It contained a few lines of writing, as follows:-"There seems much ground for the belief, that every sensory impression
which has once been recognised by the perceptive consciousness, is
registered (so to speak) in the brain, and may be reproduced at some
subsequent time, although there may be no consciousness of its existence
in the mind during the whole intermediate period." "Is that plain, so
far?" asked Ezra Jennings.
"Perfectly plain."
He pushed the open book across the table to me, and pointed to a
passage, marked by pencil lines.
"Now," he said, "read that account of a case, which has--as I believe--a
direct bearing on your own position, and on the experiment which I am
tempting you to try. Observe, Mr. Blake, before you begin, that I am now
referring you to one of the greatest of English physiologists. The book
in your hand is Doctor Elliotson's HUMAN PHYSIOLOGY; and the case which
the doctor cites rests on the well-known authority of Mr. Combe."
The passage pointed out to me was expressed in these terms:-"Dr. Abel informed me," says Mr. Combe, "of an Irish porter to a
warehouse, who forgot, when sober, what he had done when drunk; but,
being drunk, again recollected the transactions of his former state of
intoxication. On one occasion, being drunk, he had lost a parcel of some
value, and in his sober moments could give no account of it. Next time
he was intoxicated, he recollected that he had left the parcel at a
certain house, and there being no address on it, it had remained there
safely, and was got on his calling for it."
"Plain again?" asked Ezra Jennings.
"As plain as need be."
He put back the slip of paper in its place, and closed the book.
"Are you satisfied that I have not spoken without good authority to
support me?" he asked. "If not, I have only to go to those bookshelves,
and you have only to read the passages which I can point out to you."
"I am quite satisfied," I said, "without reading a word more."
"In that case, we may return to your own personal interest in this
matter. I am bound to tell you that there is something to be said
against the experiment as well as for it. If we could, this year,
exactly reproduce, in your case, the conditions as they existed last
year, it is physiologically certain that we should arrive at exactly the
same result. But this--there is no denying it--is simply impossible. We
can only hope to approximate to the conditions; and if we don't succeed
in getting you nearly enough back to what you were, this venture of ours
will fail. If we do succeed--and I am myself hopeful of success--you
may at least so far repeat your proceedings on the birthday night, as to
satisfy any reasonable person that you are guiltless, morally speaking,
of the theft of the Diamond. I believe, Mr. Blake, I have now stated
the question, on both sides of it, as fairly as I can, within the limits
that I have imposed on myself. If there is anything that I have not made
clear to you, tell me what it is--and if I can enlighten you, I will."