to this same view, even though they had observed Hans inadequately or not at all.

The defenders of this second point of view were not at a loss to point out the signs supposed to be given to Hans. One of these believed he had discovered the primary means for giving these signs in the slouch hat of Mr. von Osten. It was no accident, they said, that Mr. Schillings wore a slouch hat when he experimented with the horse. It is sufficient to note that Mr. Schillings was usually bare-headed or wore only a cap when he tested the horse. Another accused, in like fashion, the long coat of the experimenter; a third, who "had had opportunity to observe Hans on several occasions," declared with equal certainty that the cue lay in the movements of the hand as it was thrust into the pocket filled with carrots. One circus-star declared, that the trick lay in eye movements, another such star declared it lay in the movements of the hand. A sixth discovered that the signs were "manifold" and adds, "to be sure, the trainer must have a fund of such signs in order to prevent embarrassment." Such a hypothesis is itself, it would seem, one of embarrassment. On the other hand, there were many first-class observers who vainly tried to discover regularly recurring signs; among them the only professional trainer,—who had devoted any satisfactory length of time to the horse and had also sought diligently for the signs in question—said, "I was fully convinced that I would be able to explain the problem in this way, but I was mistaken." The president of the "Internationale Artisten Genossenschaft," a person who knew all the usual means of control in trick performances, went over to the other side as a result of his observations.

There were others who sought for auditory signs. The opinion was expressed that "Hans was unable to answer the simplest question such as 'What is two plus three?' whenever the questioner's tone of voice differed from that of the master's." Another put chief stress upon the changing inflection; furthermore, a "high degree of auditory sensitivity" was often offered in explanation.

The sense of smell was also made to bear some burdens. With its help, for instance, Hans was believed to be able to recognize the photograph of some one present, supposing, of course, that the person had carried the picture about with him, thus allowing it to be impregnated with his peculiar personal odor. One even suggested that the heat radiating from the questioner's body and the electric stimulus conducted underground to Hans's foot were sufficient explanation for his remarkable feats.

Even the so-called N-rays, of one-day fame, which were supposed to radiate from the human brain when in activity, were offered as a solution. A similar thing may have been in the mind of the "natural philosopher" who even after the publication of the December report, wrote as follows in one of the journals: "On the basis of most careful control, I have come to the conclusion, that the brain of the horse receives the thought-waves which radiate from the brain of his master; for mental work is, according to the judgment of science, physical work." Of the same character are the explanations of two others, one of whom declares that Hans was acting "under the magnetic influence of man", while the other declared that "hypnotic suggestion is involved", and, ignoring attested facts, tells us that, "The horse can execute the commands of another only when the master, with whom it is 'en rapport', wills that it shall obey." We may close the catalogue of explanations with one more, which, in spite of its vagueness, found many defenders, viz: suggestion. Without defining this conception more specifically and without the slightest notion of the peculiar difficulties which it involves (L. Loewenfeld in his "Handbuch des Hypnotismus" [Wiesbaden, 1901, pp. 35ff.] cites twenty different definitions of the term given by as many authors) a critic writes: "The astounding phenomenon of an animal apparently possessing human reason is to be attributed solely to suggestion". Having referred to a dog trained for the vaudeville-stage, the gentleman concludes that, "our intelligent horse, as well as the dog, is simply of fine nervous organization and hence highly susceptible to suggestions".

What was to be done, with this mass of conflicting explanations? Everyone considered his own opinion the only correct one, without, however, being able to convince anyone else. The need here was not simple affirmation, but proof.