ale tit aay pahstys os rf i : bal o C - é oe fame x : jaw: ee rare kas at Me a Fores ees een ee ee See ae iss pees Bees oa Sess. i Sarde Stee a cpt SS eee re iy base2 Earl ss Oy ee Sul nie 5 = MAY 189995 ae rN X%, ok Mooi see n | ‘ AE yah 1 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2022 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library https://archive.org/details/dynamicpsychologOOmoor DYNAMIC PSYCHOLOGY NIHIL OBSTAT J. BRUNEAU, Censor deputatus, Baltimore NIHIL OBSTAT D. JUSTINUS McCANN, Censor Congr., Angliae O.S.B. IMPRIMI POTEST OSWALDUS SMITH, Abbas Preses., die 16 Jun., 1924 IMPRIMATUR % MICHAEL J. CURLEY, Archiep., Baltimore DYNAMIC PSYCHOLOGY AN INTRODUCTION TO MODERN PSYCHOLOGICAL THEORY AND PRACTICE BY DOM THOMAS VERNER ‘MOORE, Pu.D., M.D. MONK OF THE ORDER OF ST. BENEDICT ' PROFESSOR OF PSYCHOLOGY, CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA DIRECTOR OF THE CLINIC FOR MENTAL AND NERVOUS DISEASES PROVIDENCE HOSPITAL, WASHINGTON, D. C. PHILADELPHIA, LONDON, CHICAGO J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1924, BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY PRINTED BY 7. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS PHILADELPHIA, U. Se As PREFACE THE present work is an attempt to present the essentials of a course in Psychology that will give the student: (a) An insight into the modern trends of Psychology; (b) a foundation for a practical understanding of his own inner life that will be of assistance to him in the solution of the mental difficulties that continually arise in the course of an ordinary existence, and (c) an introduction to the clinical problems of Psychology that will open the way to an appreciation of border- line mental cases and a technique for handling them, should a medical training lead him further into this field. While the aim of this work is to give a practical introduction to Psychology, the points of contact between Psychology and Philosophy have not been ignored. The now broad field of mental tests has not been entered because this has become a special division of Psychology, and a practical treatment of the subject would demand a sepa- rate volume. The work is based upon years of studying and teaching Psy- chology and the practical experience of handling patients as Director of the Clinic for Mental and Nervous Diseases at the Providence Hospital, Washington, D. C., and during the war as Captain and Major in the Medical Corps of the United States Army in this country and in France. Experimental Psychology and Human Pathology have been drawn upon to clear up certain theoretical points and to present the most important evidence on the theoretical problems discussed. A glossary of technical terms has been added for the con- venience of the general reader. It is to be hoped that the work will be of real service, not only to those who study Psychology as a part of a liberal education, Vv vi PREFACE but also to spiritual advisors, professional psychologists, social workers, and physicians in their daily work. Since the name Dynamic Psychology was previously used by Professor Woodworth, of Columbia, as the title of one of his publications, I wrote him before publishing this work, and he graciously welcomed another book bearing the same title as his earlier volume. The chapter on the Psychotaxes and the Parataxes appeared in the Psychoanalytic Review in April, 1921, along with a dis- cussion, omitted in the text, of the concept of the Parataxis as a specific medical diagnosis applicable to certain borderline ¢ases. The Editor, Doctor White, has kindly given permission to make use of the material in this volume. The chapter on the Sen- gations Involved in Voluntary Movements and that on the Pathology of Voluntary Action were recently. published in the International Clinics with the understanding that they were about to be published in this volume. My thanks are due to Monsignor Pace and Doctor Kerby, of the Catholic University, for reading the manuscript, and to my assistants Mr. John W. Rauth, for attending to the illustra- tions for me during my absence from the country, and Mr. T. G. Foran for reading the proof. I am also indebted to Dom Aidan Baldwin for assistance in the proofreading. THOMAS VERNER Moore. St. Benedict’s Abbey, Fort Augustus, Scotland. March 21, 1924. CONTENTS PART I THE ANALYSIS OF MIND CHAPTER PAGE deme OS CONCEP ELON, PSYCHOLOGYO ic sec uislel ho eclee een cane 3 RI PERINSOLOUBN HSS Hes tie cule once oie teen eo ea mle Pale ale dla eee binary e 13 Pa en Ye CONSCIOUS YC ote iciets as guna siete aiireis eld Mtb ie aialk fo alee s wale 17 LV OREAMS ANID THE: LUNCONSCIOURU As eae’ oko ate.e pace ose inl eiecals 30 V. Mertuops oF INVESTIGATING THE UNCONSCIOUS.........e0ee. 37 VI. THe CLASSIFICATION OF MENTAL PROCESSES .........e00000. 42 PART II STIMULUS AND RESPONSE AND HUMAN BEHAVIOR De LEER UACTION case Da elon ole caine no Sick aber nites clvieleie ld Grol le lets 55 II. Reriex AcTiIoN AND REACTION-TIME EXPERIMENTS.........6- i3 PELPEREL ROPIOMSG TNs Fees a Rise ea Teta cetera Baie a ahcta e's oe biateras ates 79 PART III HUMAN EMOTIONAL LIFE Per lHs APrrective MENTAL OPATES! | occ cule dees s cus corde eels 101 II. Tue Expression OF THE EMOTIONS........ AA PBL AU ane Rona A 116 III. Summary or THE THEORY OF THE AFFECTIVE MentTaL Srates 132 PART IV THE DRIVING FORCES OF HUMAN NATURE AND THEIR ADJUSTMENT TNGTINCENANDEIMPULSE Lt. iia a enue aes clean osha 137 LR Tet ee me meer Sea Tene Wem ere Sl iia Aa AN Me Ch auie ige NC gM eee 150 SLELIERCONELICT occa ce staeecn oy ete MSN shee of Hoek Sle le Lio lo whether ey eens 160 Pe VOHOTAKES “AND MEARATAXEHS T0214 a050\4 4/o ble diet te ote end eo Sie este 182 LHNPRARATAXISNOP DEPRESSION cc bk ae CL Ge aloes e bia ated autelnte 189 MiP EIGA RATA LIS(OR ANXIETY: Doula aiattet ciate Wnt miae teu oa 198 THE) UARATAXBS OF? LERENAB \ 4 wiles delslaleiand te hc ole Mbeelelas ou wiene ath 211 ACOMEMNSATION . Sica ita cathe og reine gate el cca ere os el giaeie to's AIDE PERT ANTE 235 DU UIMATION Wale lave ae Ue lasuk Aa ae Citta ete aa eae arolacehe @haraueiataneotea ats 241 PART V PSYCHOANALYSIS AND PSYCHOTHERAPY LOVES oP an 0S GN UPa a SAS Seer LA ae EP RS a Aas ARS MUA NTI DOOD ea ARS 253 TINGE Tree ati a died FNRI AU a Mia thas salelarelepeaEme le couriers 266 ADE Mier eret ener ate ert tate cine Aetna elute weetela ws state atetnnaene a ie Sleale 279 Tue PsycHOPATHOLOGY AND PsycHOTHERAPY OF ADOLF Mryrer 284 THe TECHNIQUE OF PSYCHOTHERAPY...... eis Coataie s eetghend oe iertes 294 Vii Vil CHAPTER if. If. III. IV. vs VI. VII. CONTENTS PART VI VOLITIONAL CONTROL VouLuntarRy ACTION AND THE ACT OF WILL........cccceccccs 3il VoLUNTARY MovEMENT AND THE THEORY OF IpDEOoMoTOR ACTION 321 VOLUNTARY MOVEMENT AND THE THEORY OF CONCEPTUAL CONTROL 331 Kinetic UNITS IN THE SERVICE OF VOLUNTARY ACTION....... 343 THE SENSATIONS INVOLVED IN VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS....... 349 THe PATHOLOGY OF VOLUNTARY ACTION........ccececccsceee 368 FREmpOM OF THE WILD. i's. sce c kc erhe sel eee ea ee 392 CONCLUSION DEES OUD ois orci ca bie bie pee te aoe SCRE eu Sala aang at ane 402 GLOSSARY OF, TECHNICAL TERMS. bic...) dice lei e's 0 ce 412 SuBsEcr INDEX. ceils oe oe eee ee AU ne 429 PART I THE ANALYSIS OF MIND i > 1 i ) : ¥ * if My . Afi ys y (ty % ia t rae) ae a SRA TY? 3 4S a) ie oy ifdey i aa ) iv Para) tlhe fo ay aD he raat a " My Nie 2 Dake ae oh HN SIAL af iar sik sie we ni Rape my : i x y ; pnGe a } " Me a rie - Ni es - xy 4 is ian RR UT ivy Poti ye 5 or DYNAMIC PSYCHOLOGY CHAPTER I THE CONCEPT OF PSYCHOLOGY THERE is no definition of psychology at the present day that meets with the approval of all students of the science. This lack of unity in the modern concept of psychology is due to several factors. 1. The close relation of psychology to philosophy, from which it has budded off as an independent study. Metaphysical concepts, one might even say prejudices, are more potent factors in the minds of all men, even scientists, than many would be willing to admit. Different metaphysical attitudes really influence the ideas of the psychologists as to the nature of psychology. 2. Modern psychology is a relatively young science and only in its maturity does a science really erystallize its definition. 3. Psychology is a rapidly growing science splitting up into various subforms, begetting a numerous progeny so that it is hard to decide among its various heirs which is the rightful successor to the name. This being the case, it is fairer to the student to let him know what psychology has been in the past and from the his- torical facts deduce the concept of what should be regarded as truly expressing the nature of psychology. We are confronted with a difficulty at the outset. The name, psychology, is a comparatively recent invention. It is by no means as old as the science itself and was utterly unknown when psychological problems were first discussed in the days of the Greek Sophists. The name, therefore, does not necessarily define for us the science. Were we to take the roots of the word psychology which comes to us from the reformer Melanchthon,' *™Melanchthon, Philip, a German Reformer, 1497-1560, Murray’s New English Dictionary, p. 314, Vol. VI, 1904. 3 4 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND psychology would mean the science of the soul: Aéyos, a root taken, nowadays, to indicate science and ¢vz7, soul. This, however, was not the original concept of psychology. If we go back to the first psychological treatise or group of psychological treatises, we find them in the De Anima and Parva Naturalia of Aristotle. If we look into Aristotle’s treatise, De Anima, we shall see that it really is an attempt to analyze the facts of our mental life. If, however, we wished to give a modern name to the various works grouped together as Aristotle’s psychology, this name would be biology rather than psychology, for the discipline that they treat of is said to be the science of life in all its manifestations. Life, according to him, is that which is capable of at least nutrition, growth and decay. Besides these fundamental essentials of life, which are found even in plant organisms, there is the fuller life of sensa- tion manifested in animals and of the higher thought processes manifested in man. In the special treatise on ‘‘ The Soul ’’ Aristotle pays attention mainly to the analysis of sensation and the thought processes of human intellectual life. Bound up with his treatise on the soul were several minor treatises that were termed Parva Naturalia. The very titles alone indicate a body of knowledge which extends beyond the metaphysical dis- cussion of the nature of the soul, its freedom, immortality, and other such problems that philosophy now claims as its own. The titles of the Parva Naturalia were as follows: Concerning Sensation and That Which Is Sensed ; Concerning Memory and Forgetting; Concerning Sleep and Awakening ; Concerning Dreams; Concerning the Interpretation of Dreams; Concerning a Long Life and a Short Life; Concerning Youth and Old Age; Concerning Life and Death; Concerning Respiration. When we read these titles we see that the first great psychologist made an attempt, very bold for the fourth century THE CONCEPT OF PSYCHOLOGY 5 B.C., to delve into what we now term physiological psychology and even into problems which the most modern of psychological disciplines, psychoanalysis, has claimed as its own. Throughout the Middle Ages several treatises were written which adopted as their title the De Anima used first by Aristotle. These treatises, however, were written from the metaphysical point of view. The name psychology, as we have seen, was used by Melanchthon in the sixteenth century. A hundred years later, Christian Wolff (1679-1754) employed the term rational and empirical psychology. This terminology of Wolff has continued down to the present day with, however, a modification in the meaning of the terms. According to Wolff, there are two methods of studying the soul—the method of reason and the method of experience. Rational psychology investigates the soul by reason; empirical psychology investigates it by experience. From this point of view rational and empirical psychology cover the same field but by a different method. It was soon seen that reason could investigate some problems and empirical research others. It is not possible to study all the problems of psychology. by the same method. The distinction, therefore, between rational and empirical psychology became one both of field and of method, rational psychology undertaking to study the metaphy- sical problems, the nature and origin of the soul, and empirical psychology confining itself to the phenomena of the mind. There was but little progress made in this empirical investigation until physies and physiology had developed methods of study which eould be applied to the sensory life of man. When this development was attained, physiologists began to investigate the relation between the stimulus and the sensation which it produces. This was in the first half of the nineteenth century. The original investigators were physiologists. Empirical psychology, as a real scientific discipline, had its birth in physiology and not in the philosophy of Christian Wolff. A new science was begotten which was first termed psychophysies and later, physiological psychology, and then, experimental psychology, and, occasionally, empirical psychology. 6 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND The first work which we may look upon as a treatise in extenso of the new science was Gustav Theodor Fechner’s Elements of Psychophysics, the first volume of which appeared in 1859, the second in 1860. He thus defines psychophysics: ‘* An exact science of the functional relations of dependence between body and mind or, more generally, between the bodily and mental or the physical and psychical world.”’ (P. 8.) The term ‘‘ soul ’’ Fechner understood in a very broad sense. In fact, it embraced everything apprehended by inner experi- ence or that could be deduced from inner experience. By the term ‘‘ body ’’ he understood everything that could be perceived by outer experience, that is, by the senses, or could be inferred from these perceptions. In 1874 two important works on psychology appeared—one was that of Brentano, Psychology from the Empirical Stand- point. He gave a definition of psychology, which became very popular and until recent days was the commonly accepted definition of psychology, namely, psychology is the science of psychic phenomena, that is, of conscious processes. He attempted to show that this definition meant neither more nor less than, psychology is the science of the soul. He adopted this definition because it implied no metaphysical theory whereas the old definition did. The second great work on empirical psychology which appeared in 1874 was destined to go through six editions and to become the classic work on psychology and has been super- seded by no other until the present day. This was Wundt’s Outlines of Physiological Psychology. In his first edition he thus contrasted physiology and psychology: ‘‘ Physiology supplies us with information concerning those vital phenomena which may be perceived by the outer sense. In psychology, however, man beholds himself from within and tries to explain the interrelation of those phenomena which introspection pre- sents to his view.’’ ? *Grundziige der physiologischen Psychologie, Leipzig, 1874, first edi- tion, p. 1. ‘THE CONCEPT OF PSYCHOLOGY vi A number of psychologists adopted the definition of Brentano, so that psychology was usually defined as the science of con- scious processes or the science of the facts of the phenomena of self or the science of consciousness. In the meantime, experimentalists were attempting not only to investigate the mental life of man but also to throw some light upon the much discussed problem of animal intelligence. There is, however, this difficulty about the investigation of animal psychology. One ean give the animal no verbal instructions; and when one is through with the experiment, one can ask the animal no questions. It is, therefore, necessary to make use of purely objective methods, that is to say, to put the animal in various situations and watch its behavior. One puts a dog in a box, for example, that can be opened by a latch and watches how it gets out and measures the time it takes to liberate itself in successive trials, and thus investigates the time curve in the animal’s process of learning. This objective method of procedure threw a great deal of light on the problem of animal behavior and even gave some insight into the probable nature of animal intelligence as com- pared with human nature. Those who made use of the method were so thrilled with their success that they wished to apply the same method to the study of the human mind. This they pro- ceeded to do, and this they had every right to do and might hope to obtain and did obtain a number of very interesting results. Unfortunately, the human mind has a monistie tendency to extreme simplification, which manifests itself under various dis- guises. If a principle finds valuable application anywhere, some wish to extend it so as to explain everything, and so animal psychologists were not satisfied with applying objective methods to human psychology but commenced to maintain that no other methods whatever were applicable to the mind of man. One must treat a human being as one would an animal. One must ask the subject in the psychological laboratory no questions at all. One must never demand any introspection. One must confine oneself to the objective method. Thus, Watson defines psychology as ‘‘ a purely objective branch of natural science.’’ Its theoreti- alt THE ANALYSIS OF MIND eal goal is the prediction and control of behavior. Introspection forms no essential part of its methods, nor is the scientific value of the data dependent upon the readiness with which they lend themselves to interpretation in terms of consciousness.® After the denial of the value of an appeal to consciousness in the study of psychology, extremists went on to maintain that there is no such thing as consciousness. This extreme attitude seems even to have been adopted by James in his later days. ‘‘ For twenty years past,’’ he says, ‘‘ I have mistrusted con- sciousness as an entity; for seven or eight years past I have sug- gested its non-existence to my students... It seems to me that the hour is ripe for it to be openly and universally discarded.’’ 4 This school which would define psychology as the science of behavior is known as Behaviorism, and its adherents as Behaviorists. : It is difficult for one to understand this denial of consciousness without an insight into Behaviorism as an outgrowth from animal psychology. With this foundation, however, and keeping in mind the natural tendency of some personalities to all embracing monistic concepts and sweeping denials and affirmations, and not forgetting either the delight of the radicals to shock the sensibilities of the conservatives, and the craving of every man to bring forward something new and startling, we may under- stand the ‘‘ psychology ’’ of the Behaviorists though we may have serious misgivings as to the solidity of its logical foundations. The Behaviorist certainly has every right to investigate behavior to the exclusion of consciousness, if he will. When, however, he maintains that psychology is solely the science of external behavior and not an analysis of inner experience, he has no historical foundation for thus limiting the term ‘‘ psychology.”’ It may be difficult to study our inner mental life, but it is un- doubtedly a field of investigation and a field of investigation which has long been termed by the name of psychology. This inner mental life is of interest to many investigators, and they * Behavior: An Introduction to Comparative Psychology, by John B. Watson, New York, 1914, p. 1. “Quoted by Frost, Psychological Review, 1914, XXI, p. 204. THE CONCEPT OF PSYCHOLOGY 9 have every right historically to term this science of our inner mental life psychology. It is impossible to investigate every- thing in our mental life by objective methods for this inner experience is far richer than its manifestations by actions or reactions that can be the objects of an external observer’s experience. Nor has Behaviorism been able to attain its goal and predict and control human behavior. A pure Behaviorist would have little place in a psychological clinic or the schoolroom or the Juvenile Court, ete. Whenever one wishes to understand any of the real problems of mental conflict, or penetrate into the real eauses of the difficulties of life, one has to obtain introspections from the patient in trouble. His reactions alone will not give the insight into his personality that is necessary in order to give him the help he needs. Psychology should enable us to solve the difficulties of the human race as well as to investigate the curve of learning in white rats, dogs, cats or human organisms. In recent times there has been a return to the older concept of psychology as the science of the soul. This tendency is found in Miss Calkins’ definition of psychology as the science of the self. To conceive of psychology as the science of individual beings has certain advantages over the conception of psychology as the science of conscious processes. When we study psychology we really seek an insight into the mind and mental life of the individual. We hope for a science which will enable us to interpret not human behavior in general, but the particular behavior of some individual whom we are trying to influence. We may be interested in psychological theory and in the nature of conscious processes as such, but psychological interest does not terminate with pulling the mind to pieces. No analysis is ever satisfactory as a final result. We wish to try to put things together—to synthesize. We study, therefore, in psychology not isolated states of consciousness alone but the mental mechan- isms of behavior which are manifested by individual human beings. Psychology, therefore, in the sense of human psychology, may be defined as the science of the human personality. It is not necessary in a definition of this kind to assume any theory of Q 10 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND human personality but only that there are personalities, indi- vidual human beings who may be studied from the point of view of their mental life and the mechanisms of their behavior. © To say that psychology is the science of the soul assumes at the outset a metaphysical theory. It is better to start on common ground. Psychology is not the science of the brain. It is not physiology, the science of the functions of the organs of the body. It is not biology, the science of life in general, as Aristotle defines it. Psychology is merely the science of human beings developed by an analysis of their mental life by experiments, by observations, by everything that will enable us to obtain insight into the minds of men—how they know, how they think, how they reason, how they feel, how they react in the difficulties of life. RELATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO OTHER SCIENCES The question is often raised, is psychology a natural science? Before answering this question we may ask ourselves, in the first place, is psychology a science at all? What, we may ask, is a science? A science is a branch of knowledge which seeks an explanation of a correlated group of phenomena or events. Does psychology seek an explanation of a definite field of factual ex- perience? It most certainly does. The facts of experience which are studied in psychology are the facts of our mental life. The task of psychology is not merely to describe these phenomena but to ex- plain them. In this sense, therefore, psychology is a science. Now we may ask the further question, is psychology a natu- ral science? A natural science may be looked upon as one whose explanations are in terms of nature, that is to say, physical motion. The explanations of a natural science must be given according to this concept in terms of matter and energy. We may say rather in terms of energy than of matter, for in most of the explanations of natural science matter does not enter into the question, but only the amount of energy before and after a given event. Natural sciences, so far as their ultimate explana- tions are concerned, have to do with the manifestations and trans- formations of energy. Energy is conceived of as the cause of motion, whether of atoms or of masses. Anything that sets in THE CONCEPT OF PSYCHOLOGY 11 motion a part of matter, whether an atom or a planet, is energy. Can mental phenomena be conceived of in terms of the motion of atoms or of masses? If we limit ourselves to such explanations as this, we can hardly get beyond physics. We can measure stimuli, we can correlate stimuli with sensations, and when we have done all this we have scarcely trodden upon the field of psychology at all. Psychological explanations are really on a very different basis from physiological. One might learn all about the energy transformations going on in the human body, meas- ure the quantity of food taken and the amount of work done by a human being, and yet one would not understand the true motives of his behavior. If a man appeared to be paralyzed and one understood that the paralysis was not due to any actual injury to the nervous system but to a state of mind, for example, to a desire to get compensation from a railroad company because of the fact that he was in an accident in which he was not really hurt—if one knew all this about a man one would understand his behavior far better than through any insight given by profound chemical studies which might be made of the balance between the energy taken in his food and the energy manifested in his work. Physiological explanations do not help us to understand purely mental facts. It is not likely that they ever will, nor will the principles of physiology enable us, as a general rule, to modify the behavior of criminals or of a psychoneurotic or of an unruly child, ete. This does not mean that physiology may be dispensed with in the study of human behavior. It merely points out that human behavior is not completely explained or understood by an appeal to principles which are strictly those of natural science. Psychology, therefore, is not in the strict sense of the word a natural science. We shall see as we go on that this does not pre- vent it from being an experimental science or an empirical sci- ence. It has many points of contact with the natural sciences. It relies upon physics for information about the stimuli which are capable of producing sensation. Without a knowledge of physics we could not understand how we see, hear, touch, taste, smell, ete. Physics, however, carries us only so far. It leaves us at the 12 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND threshold of the bodily organism in which we live. When a stimulus impinges upon one of our sense organs many things happen in that sense organ before we become conscious of some- thing in the outside world. Physiology has investigated the sense organs, the nerves, the brain through which we receive information about the outside world. As psychologists there- fore, we wish to learn as much as possible about the way in which we know. Physiology is a very important aid to psychology. One who would become a psychologist cannot get along without a good knowledge of the principles of physiology. CHAPTER II CONSCIOUSNESS PSYCHOLOGY, as we have defined it, is the science of the human personality. What characterizes the human personality most specifically is its mode of conscious behavior. It is perhaps on this account that some psychologists have chosen as their defini- tion: Psychology is the science of conscious processes. Though the mind cannot satisfy itself with the study of these isolated processes, nevertheless it is necessary for us to analyze consciousness before we can attempt to obtain that synthetic knowledge which gives us an insight into the workings of any individual mind. It is necessary, furthermore, to have names to designate the phenomena we observe. It is necessary to apply those names in a scientific manner, always univocally designating the same fact of observation. Hence, it is necessary, even in dynamic psychology, to know something about the elements of our mental life. We shall prelude this analysis of our mental life by asking ourselves, first, what, after all, is consciousness itself? This is particularly useful inasmuch as some psychologists have denied the existence of consciousness. If, therefore, the fundamental fact of our mental life is apparently in doubt, it is necessary for us to point out clearly just what we mean by this funda- mental fact. James has likened consciousness to a flowing stream. The analogy is, after all, an apt one. It suggests the continuity of our waking experience. This waking experience is roughly what we understand by consciousness. Man is said to be conscious or unconscious. What goes on in his mind when he is said to be conscious constitutes his consciousness. In other words, con- sciousness is a generic term that we use to designate the various forms of experience that we are aware of in our mental life. When, therefore, we say that the human mind is conscious or 13 14 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND possesses consciousness, we do not mean to maintain that there is any generic mental experience over and above the specific forms of which we are aware. To do so would be to lose sight of the meaning of generic terms. Trees exist but there is no tree which is not a special kind of tree, which is neither oak nor maple nor elm nor hickory nor walnut, but only a tree. So, also, conscious- ness exists, but there is no consciousness apart from the specific forms in which it manifests itself. Thus we are conscious when we think, we see, we hear, we are angry, we are annoyed, we are joyful, we are sad, ete. By consciousness, therefore, we merely mean to designate the manifold experiences of our waking life, and no one can deny that we do have experiences of some sort in our waking life. James’ figure, which compares consciousness to a flowing stream, truly points out the continuity of our mental life. For certainly in our normal waking life the modes of experience vary, but there are no lapses such as occasionally take place when an epileptic has a petit mal attack, becomes dazed for a moment and knows nothing of what may transpire during his lapse of consciousness. The normal human being in his waking life knows no such lapses. He may be distracted, his thought may not follow any one direction for a very long time, but con- sciousness in some form is always present. And though sensa- tions come suddenly, and disappear when they do come, they do not awaken us from a state of unconsciousness but suddenly break our flow of thought, as when the river in its downward course meets a rocky crag and breaks in bubbling streamers on either side. So our waking life is one continuous flow of experi- ences whose character is much more varied than the water in any stream. Is consciousness ever interrupted? In sleep it seems that consciousness ceases, but no one can ever remember the exact moment of becoming unconscious even in sleep. Consciousness seems to fade into another type of experience of which we have fragments in our memory when we awaken and recall to mind the fragments of our dreams. It is not clear that dream-life itself is not a continuous, unbroken stream of conscious experi- CONSCIOUSNESS 15 ence at a lower level. It is not even absolutely certain that con- sciousness ceases under ether or as the result of shock or accident. Nevertheless, seeing that in these states the individual gives no evidence of conscious life and has no memory of anything having transpired during the state, he would be rash indeed who would maintain as a certainty that consciousness continues in such states as these. What, we may ask, is the ultimate nature of consciousness ? To answer this question one must enter the field of metaphysics. Properly speaking, it is no task of psychology, and one may go on and study a great deal about the facts of consciousness with- out ever knowing anything at all about their ultimate nature. Thus, though chemistry and physics go back in their origins to disputations about the nature of matter, progress in these sciences came only after men gave up seeking an answer to the ultimate question. And so it can be with psychology. Psychology need not answer the question of the nature of consciousness before it investigates the operations of the mind. Nevertheless, it may be pardonable to raise the question and suggest a philosophic answer. Consciousness, though continuous as a stream of awareness or waking experience, is always in any single one of its actual manifestations a transitory phenomenon. When we look at these phenomena individually, consciousness does not resemble a stream but rather the fireflies that flash in the night. An experience comes and an experience goes. What are these phenomena which arise more or less suddenly and abruptly and then disappear as quickly or fade gradually into oblivion? All things in nature may be classified as substances or as accidents. Substances have independent existence, such as coal, iron, earth, air, water, trees, animals, etc. Accidents never exist apart from substances. They may be looked upon as character- istics of a substance. Shape, for instance, cannot exist independ- ently and apart from some object whose form it outlines. Color eannot exist without something colored. Motion or action of any kind cannot exist without something that moves or acts. And so consciousness appears to us not as a substance but as an accident, an action of some kind. It is, therefore, the activity of some- 16 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND thing. We know it only in ourselves and we are living organisms. We assume that it exists in organisms that are similar to our own. We find that in some manner it is connected with organisms © possessing nervous systems. For organisms without a nervous system, such as plants, do not in general manifest those actions which resemble our behavior in our conscious waking life. Consciousness, therefore, is in some manner the activity of a living organism of a definite type, not of any organism. It is not likely that it would be a mere chemical reaction, for as we under- stand chemical reactions we do not see any identity between the shifting of atomic groupings and those experiences which we recognize as conscious. At least, in the ultimate analysis, there is no possibility of identifying consciousness with ordinary move- ment governed by the relations of mass and velocity. And yet we see from the study of physics and of anatomy and of physiology that all our sensations in becoming conscious involve mechanical motion and chemical change. Consciousness, more than anything else, seems to demand in every organism something more than chemical activity. The German biologist, Driesch,’ feels that the phenomena of erowth and regeneration cannot be explained without the assump- tion of a vital principle or entelechy in the organism. If this is so, the explanation of a conscious organism by mere physics and chemistry is much more difficult and would therefore demand the assumption of an entelechy as the basis of its conscious life. Metaphysically, one should: at least consider the possibility that consciousness is not a chemical reaction, nor is it a secretion of any gland; it is not a substance; it is not physical motion to which all forms of energy are ultimately reduced. It is an activity of the vital principle of an organism. This activity is intimately associated, but not to be identified, with chemical processes that take place in the sense organs, the nerves and the central nervous system. When, therefore, we study consciousness, we must not forget that it has an organic counterpart, nor is it lawful to confound the organic counterpart with consciousness itself, ~~ +f. infra, p. 405 ff CHAPTER III THE UNCONSCIOUS In 1868, the German philosopher, von Hartmann, published his work, Philosophy of the Unconscious. He was not the origina- tor of the concept of the unconscious, but he made it popular because he conceived of it in a fashion that was likely to appeal to the general public. Von Hartmann thought that we had two personalities, one our conscious personality, and the other a sec- ondary personality hidden down beneath the surface of our ordi- nary consciousness. It was nevertheless exactly the same, in its structure or in its make-up and its mode of action, as the conscious personality of our waking lfe. He even suggested that the conscious personality functioned through the cortex of the brain, the unconscious personality through the spinal cord and sub- cortical ganglia.! Such an idea as this naturally aroused popu- lar notice. Janet in his L’Automatisme Psychologique attempted to show that a number of pathological conditions of the mind may be explained by supposing that certain elements of our mental life are split off and separated from the control of the conscious per- sonality. These split-off elements then act Independently and produce phenomena and actions which apparently do not depend upon the conscious personality. Since the days of von Hartmann and Janet the concept of the unconscious has been much discussed. It is certainly very im- portant to know whether or not our mental life is split, so that, besides the flow of conscious thought, there is another stream governing our activity of which we are absolutely unaware. Cer- tainly any such idea as this has a bearing on human conduct, and if we are going to understand the human personality, we must know in what sense and to what extent it is true that we have an unconscious mind. 4p, cit. A, 1, pp. 51-61, sixth edition. 17 18 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND In order to answer this problem we shall attempt to outline the sphere of the unconscious by attempting to find various senses in which the unconscious in some form or another or by some extension of the meaning of the word must be admitted. Acts of consciousness, as we have seen, are activities of some- | thing. Spiritualists maintain that they are the activities of a spiritual substance. Materialists maintain that they are the activities of the brain itself. No matter whether the spiritualists or the materialists are right, one thing is clear, and that is, that neither the soul nor the brain is given as a conscious fact. In other words, the organ of consciousness is not conscious immedi- ately and directly of itself. No man perceives his own mind. The brain is unknown to those absolutely ignorant of anatomy. The soul is a conclusion arrived at by BEE Inet not an object of perception.? In the second place, not only is the organ of consciousness unconscious but the operations of the organ of consciousness, whether physiological or psychological, are themselves uncon- scious.2 We are not aware of any of the processes that take place in our central nervous system as such. Neurochemistry is not psychology. All neurological processes as such are there- fore unconscious. What is true of the physiological functioning of the mind is true also of its psychical functioning. The mind has various functions that it makes use of in its operations. Thus, association and memory are mental functions, but we are never conscious of association as a function, or memory as a function, but only of their end-results. One idea may bring up another idea. The second idea is often spoken of as an association. This second idea is conscious, but of the process of association, by which the first called up the second, we are not aware. By mem- ory, which is very akin to association, we are able to live over again our past experiences. When these past experiences revive as memories, they are conscious, but the ‘‘function of memory,”’ by means of which the past is recalled, of that we have no aware- ness whatsoever. 2 Cf. hereon, St. Thomas, Summa Theologica, I. Q. Ixxxvii, Art. 1. * Cf. St. Thomas, Summa Theologica, I. Q. Ixxxvii, Art. 3. THE UNCONSCIOUS 19 Our mental habits, whether in their ultimate nature they are psychical dispositions or neurological traces, are absolutely out- side the field of consciousness.* They may influence conscious life, but their nature, their character, or anything whatsoever about them, is not given to us among the immediate data of consciousness. Let us now introduce the term ‘‘ subconscious.’’ There are some things that are neither strictly conscious, nor strictly un conscious, but occupy an intermediate position. Thus conscious- ness has a field which has been compared to the field of vision. In the field of vision there is a certain small region which is referred to as the focus point. It is a very limited area that may be seen clearly without any movement of the eyes. Outside of this limited field, everything is more or less blurred. This region, in contrast to the focus point, is termed the field of vision. Precisely the same thing takes place in our conscious life. We are keenly aware of some one or two things to which we pay strict attention. We are very dimly aware of everything else in the stream of consciousness. Of some of these things we are so dimly aware, when our attention is not called to them, that it would almost seem that they are not conscious at all. If a clock strikes while we are working, and someone shortly afterwards asks us if the clock has struck, we may perhaps be able to answer, but the interval is very short in which that experience fades entirely from the mind. Many things are present continually in the mind, and when our attention is called to them, we are aware of them, but can scarcely be said to be conscious of them when our attention is not directed to them, e.g., the pressure of clothes on the body, the temperature of the body, are usually not objects of experience; the tension of the skin in the various positions of the members of the body seldom becomes conscious unless it becomes painful as in illness; the overtones of a note on the piano may be picked out once our attention has been ealled to them. In a certain sense we were conscious of them before, but as individual experiences we certainly were not aware of them. All of these things may be termed subconscious. In fact, ~~ *Of. St. Thomas, Summa Theologica, I. Q. Ixxxvii, Art. 2. 20 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND everything which we may recognize as belonging in any manner to the field of consciousness which can be brought to the focus point of consciousness at any time, may be said to be subcon- scious. Naturally, there are many degrees of the subconscious. The intensity of consciousness, however, fades very rapidly from the focus point to the contiguous regions of the field. So far, however, we have not come to the crucial problem. There are many states of mind, forms of consciousness, that flit about in the outskirts of our mind and no one doubts the sub- conscious. But are there any mental states that are not even in the field of consciousness? Are there, in other words, two fields of consciousness that have no connection with one another, but exist on different planes, one above, the other below? Bleuler,® among other lines of evidence for unconscious mental states, speaks of the sensations of reflex action in balancing. Thus, when we walk, stimuli come from the soles of our feet, from the skin, muscles and tendons and enable us to step out with ease and maintain the erect posture. But we are not aware of any sensations exercising a control over the mechanism of walking. It may be possible that sensations, real mental phenomena, are involved in the control of such movements as walking or in stand- ing, sitting, ete., or in the performance of many habitual acts as washing, dressing, playing a musical instrument, ete. But while this is possible, it is also possible and even more probable, that this control may come from mere stimuli that remain neurological phenomena throughout, and never rise to the conscious level, never become even unconscious mental processes. Clear evidence of the existence of unconscious mental states must, therefore, be sought in other fields. Bleuler also points out the evidence that may be adduced from the study of hysterical ansesthesia. Many patients have areas.over their body of greater or less extent that are absolutely insensitive. They are said to be anesthetic. In these regions you may eut or burn without any manifestation that the patient is aware of any kind of sensation **“ Das Unbewusste,” Journal fiir Psychol. und Neurol., XX, Ergiin- zungsheft, 2, pp. 89-90. THE UNCONSCIOUS 21 whatsoever. These areas do not correspond to the distribution of the sensory nerves nor to the root region in the cord, nor to the projection diagram of the cerebral cortex. They are not really cut off from the central nervous system. Binet has made some interesting experiments in which he shows that such areas are still capable of responding to stimuli. Thus, if a patient has an anesthetic arm and you screen it from him, it is possible to get into communication with the arm while the patient apparently knows nothing of what is going on. The arm supposed to be devoid of all feeling will tap a finger just as many times as the anesthetic skin is touched; it may even execute automatic writing, expressing opinions about the experi- menter, etc., and still apparently the owner of the arm knows nothing of what is going on. I have never tried these experiments myself, nor seen them demonstrated by others. If, however, the facts are as Binet pre- sents them, they could be conveniently explained by the existence of unconscious mental states in the mind of the subject con- trolling the behavior of the arm. Bleuler also speaks of the motives of action in conduct and maintains that conduct is often inexplicable unless one supposes over and above the reasons alleged for behavior other reasons of which the person is not aware. We have only to recall the men in the parable, who all at once commenced to make excuses, to realize that alleged reasons are often insufficient to explain conduct. If we study conduct and the alleged reasons by which it is explained, we shall have no difficulty in assuring ourselves that the alleged reasons are often insufficient. I think, also, that it will frequently be found that those who give the reasons are often perfectly sincere and truly convineed that their actions are adequately explained by the motives they advance. Granted then this is so, it would not, without any shadow of doubt, prove anything more than that people are often uncon- scious of the relation of certain ideas to their conduct. Thus, in cases of excuse the conduct is not to be explained by the reasons given. But are there not reasons flitting about in Q2 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND the subconscious mind, or conscious mind, of the subject that are fully adequate to account for his behavior? What is unconscious may be, not the real motives, but the relation of these real motives — to conduct. Thus, in the war, some soldiers developed what was termed an anxiety neurosis. They fell into an unreasonable anxiety that incapacitated them for duty. I studied several such patients in France who attributed their anxiety to the fear that some of their relatives were dead at home. They said that this must be the case, otherwise they would have had letters from them. There was always, however, a good reason why letters should not have been received. The postal service was abominable, necessarily perhaps, and whether good or bad they had been out of contact with it by reason of their position at the front. The real reason for their anxiety and its teleological incapacitation was not that they were afraid of a death at home, but of their own death on the muddy fields of sunny France. But were these men wnconscious of thew fear? By no means. But I do believe, from my personal examination, that some of them did not consciously connect their conduct with its real motive—the fear of death.® This leads us on to the consideration of what is termed the complex, an emotionally toned experience, that is looked upon as having been forgotten but, nevertheless, by its associations affecting behavior. White, in his Mental Mechanisms, explains it by the following simile: Suppose a child has a boil on its arm. A physician is ealled and enters the room with his little black bag. He asks to see the arm which the child innocently and unsuspectingly shrugs up for his inspection. The physician opens the black bag, removes a knife and with a quick movement plunges it into the boil and evacuates its contents. The next day when the physician calls with his black bag he cannot get near the child without it erying and screaming. Some time later, let us suppose, a visitor comes with a black bag. The child sees the bag and immediately com- mences to make an outery. His mother hushes his erying and (36 Chinfray p) 208y) Nake OTS Guay Aa Ay eon eee a THE UNCONSCIOUS 23 assures him that the caller is not a bad doctor with a knife. But for some time afterward the child has a horror of black bags. Perhaps later on, having forgotten the incident, he has a peculiar, inexplicable antipathy to people with black bags, or that wear black, or perhaps even to black things in general. When he sees black things, he does not recall the incident in which the boil was lanced with a knife taken from a black bag. That incident is a complex which is forgotten and has sunken into the depths of the unconscious. It is unconscious itself, and its relation to the child’s subsequent behavior when a man, is also unconscious. According to theory, therefore, the complex is an emotionally toned incident which is or may be forgotten, but which, neverthe- less, is awakened to activity, producing its original emotional resonance, without the subject having the slightest inkling of the true cause of his unreasonable behavior. Many cases are given by psychoanalysts of incidents, for- gotten beyond the power of recall, but unearthed by them from the depths of the unconscious. These forgotten incidents fune- tion in the way just described as characteristic of the complex. I would not call in question the existence of really unconscious incidents that function as complexes, that is, incidents that before analysis had been forgotten by the patient beyond the possibility of recall. I have, however, never found such wholly unconscious complexes in any of my patients; but I have frequently found incidents of one kind or another that analysis showed were con- nected with the patient’s behavior and yet the patient prior to analysis had no idea of the association that had been welded between these past events and his subsequent conduct. According to the Freudian concept mere analysis suffices for clearing up mental difficulties. The cure is likened to the opening of a boil. A complex is a mental boil and when opened up and discharged, the psyche heals. In my experience, analysis alone seldom effects a cure. The analysis of a pathological association, however, is a real aid. Its mechanism may be conceived of in this way. Suppose a man whom you ingenuously credited with good intentions had been giving you advice and profoundly influencing your conduct. QA THE ANALYSIS OF MIND Suppose that some day you should discover that he was not considering your interests, but his own; not attempting to help you, but to use you for his own ends. The next time he offered advice it would be robbed of its former potency, because you had an insight into its true meaning. So, also, when by analysis one understands the relation between conduct and com- plex, he seems to say to himself: And so that is all I am worry- ing about—that is the reason for my attraction or my fear; and what influenced him so profoundly before is robbed of its potency. The following case illustrates this mechanism. A young lady came to the clinic; among other difficulties she had an unreason- able attraction for a man very much older than herself. He had never spoken to her about marriage and perhaps would have been surprised had he known the extent of her affection for him. This affection kept her from becoming interested in anyone else; but to marry such an old man would probably have ended un- happily. Merely taking the history of her life revealed that from childhood she had absolutely worshipped her father, and had a tremendous respect for anything he said in spite of his having been several times in an asylum. When eleven years of age she saw her mother, one day, with a gash in the side of her cheek. Her mother told her that she had been hit by something on a train; but she soon learned that her father had attacked her with a knife. Someone said her father was insane. The word shocked her and she has avoided it ever since. That night she was sent to a circus and when she returned she learned that her father was gone. She was dreadfully depressed, lonely and hopeless. But she kept her difficulties to herself. Her father returned home again several times but had repeatedly to be taken away. After one of these removals she met the elderly gentleman, a lawyer who took care of her father’s financial affairs. She felt that she was in love with him from that time on, but saw no hope of mar- riage and no other prospect for herself in the future. Explanation of the mechanism of pathological association and the probable substitution of the lawyer for her father dissipated the peculiar charm that the lawyer held over her, and gave her once more her freedom. THE UNCONSCIOUS 25 From this discussion of the complex we may conclude that the influence of ideas and memories on the mental life of individu- als may be real and extensive and yet the relation of cause and effect between the ideas and memories and their resonance in the mental life, may be utterly unknown to the subject. We have two classes of memories: a. Memories subject to recall with little or no difficulty. b. Memories beyond the power of recall or subject to recall only in response to special methods of analysis. Can memories of the latter sort, truly unconscious memories, produce the same effects as the former? The literature says yes, and there is no good reason for calling the verdict in question. Whether either type of memory produces its effects as mental or physical traces in the substrate of our mental life or by being aroused to the condition of unconscious mental states, cannot be decided. But until it is proven that these memories produce their effects not as traces but truly as mental states, they cannot be adduced as evidence of ‘* unconscious conscious processes, ’’ and what we seek now is evidence of these ‘‘ unconscious conscious processes.’’ The apparent contradiction need not be cause for concern. The conscious processes of one man are unconscious to another, for they are unconnected one with another. The con- scious processes in the twilight state of epilepsy are not known by those of the normal states, because they are unconnected. This lack of connection may make possible two simultaneous streams of consciousness, just as there might be branches of a river wholly unconnected on either side of a long island between them. Are there any such islands in the stream of consciousness? The most direct evidence is that produced by Morton Prince in an experiment on post-hypnotie suggestion.’ ‘‘While the subject was in hypnosis the problem was given to add 458 and 367, the calculation to be done subconsciously after she was awake. The problem was successfully accomplished in the usual way. The mode in which the calculation was effected was then investigated with the following result: In what may "The Unconscious, second edition, 1921, pp. 169-171, 3 26 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND be termed for convenience, the secondary consciousness, 7.e., the subconsciousness, the numbers 458 and 367 appear as distinct visualizations. These numbers were placed one over the other, — ‘ with a line underneath them, such as one makes in adding. The visualization kept coming and going, sometimes the line was crooked and sometimes it was straight; the secondary conscious- ness did not do the sum at once, but by piecemeal. It took a long time before it was completed.’ The sum was not apparently done as soon as one would do it when awake by volitional calculation, but rather, the figures added themselves in a curious sort of way, the numbers were visualized and the visualization kept coming and going and the columns at different times added themselves, as it seemed, the result appearing at the bottom. ‘In another problem (453 to be multiphed by 6), the process was described as follows: The numbers were visualized in a line, thus 453x 6. Then the 6 arranged itself under the 453. The numbers kept coming and going the same as before. Sometimes, however, they added themselves and sometimes the 6 substracted itself from the larger number. Finally, however, the result was obtained. As in the first problem, the numbers kept coming and going in the secondary consciousness until the problem was solved and then they ceased to appear. It is to be understood, of course, that the normal or personal consciousness was not aware of these coconscious figures, or even that any calculation was being or to be performed.’’ Taken at its face value, this experiment would demonstrate the existence of these unconscious conscious processes. The ex- ample quoted is but one of many experiments in which these un- conscious processes, or, aS Prince terms them, coconscious ideas were described. Prince writes of the experiment as follows: ‘* The description of these ideas has been very precise and has carried a conviction, I believe, to all those who have had an opportunity to be present at these observations that these recol- lections were true memories and not fabrications.’’ § But hypnotie subjects are very much inclined to give the hypnotizer any answer they may guess that he expects, and are GE8Ops ott, pp. 168-160) a Fe 4a) ARDS Ube) Lae heh THE UNCONSCIOUS Q7 inclined not so much to pure fabrication but to what might be termed the delusion of suggestion. Such suspicions cannot help but throw a cloud on the evidence; but with all that, Morton Prince’s experiment is very suggestive and inclines one strongly to the conclusion that coconscious processes are real elements in our mental life. | But, you may say, what happens to human responsibility if the mind is subject to unconscious drives ? Take for instance, such cases as those reported by Healy. A boy, having learned bad sexual practices and stealing from one and. the same companion, developed a peculiar, periodic, appar- ently unmotivated drive to steal. What has happened is that the patient has developed a pathological association between steal- ing and sexuality with which its learning had been combined. Thereafter, stealing had a sexual charm that usually and nor- mally does not belong to it at all. The patient does not know the source of its peculiar attractiveness. Healy has cured such cases by analysis. With insight into the origin of the charm the asso- ciation was broken up.® It is not necessary for us to know why a course of action appeals to us in order to resist it. The sexual drive is strong, but not irresistible. The fact that it masks itself under the temp- tation to steal does not make it overpowering. The unconscious by shuffling the cards makes peculiar and uncanny problems but not insoluble ones. We are all subject to pathological associa- tions. No one can render an account of all his likes and dislikes. But it is not necessary in order to behave ourselves with decency and discretion. Something may appeal with a peculiar, inde- seribable and inexplicable charm. Analysis of the charm is not necessary in order to see whether or not the course of action it leads to is or is not in accord with the ideals of conduct. The ability to compare action with the standards of conduct is the root of freedom. If we would escape the drive of the unconscious we must regulate our conduct according to principle. If, how- °Cf. Wm. Healy, Mental Conflicts and Misconduct, Boston, 1917, p. 183 ff. 28 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND ever, we follow whims and fancies and thoughtlessly yield to desires the unconscious bears us along and we know not whither we are going. From the above discussion it is clearly evident that there are conscious mental processes and subconscious mental proc- esses. It is very likely also that there are unconscious mental processes. May we also say that besides the unconscious mental processes there is also a subconscious personality ? To answer this question we must distinguish between two senses of the word personality ; (a) the metaphysical sense and (b) the empirical sense. The metaphysical personality is the ultimate substrate of our mental life. Materialists would say that this ultimate substrate is the brain. On this theory it is clear that there is in any one man only one central nervous system. Though it is conceivable that the conscious might be connected with one part of the nervous system, and the unconscious with another and though some authors have pointed to the two cerebral hemispheres, and others to the subcortical ganglia as possible explanations of the duality of the mind, nevertheless such suggestions have no foun- dation in fact and are pure conjectures. If, however, the ultimate substrate of our mental life is a spiritual psyche or soul, there is no reason to suppose that in any one organism there is more than one ‘‘ entelechy ’’ or vital principle of its growth and consciousness. Metaphysically, therefore, there 1s but one personality. What, now, do we understand by personality in the empiri- eal sense? It is our concept of ourselves, our memory of our life, into which is set, like jewels in a ring, the mental events of the present. There may be fluctuations in the emotional tone of this complex of mental processes but usually even in emotional life there is a certain unity in its undercurrent. If for any reason the unity of memory is broken, the empirical personality disappears as a stream sometimes flows underground only to appear again, further on. Normal interruptions of our mental life occur during sleep, but when we awaken the same old self makes itself manifest. In epilepsy one may distinguish THE UNCONSCIOUS 29 two empirical selves, the normal self and the twilight self. Usually the twilight self has only sporadic minutes of existence. Sometimes, however, these minutes lengthen into days. Besides these epileptic transformations of personality which are common enough there are alterations of personality in indi- viduals who show no signs of epilepsy whatsoever. I have never had the good fortune to study any of these cases myself. Cases, however, are reported of more or less sudden changes of per- sonality. One personality will be quiet, refined, sedate, the other noisy, vulgar and tom-boyish. One personality knows only by hearsay what the other one does. The memories of one, there- fore, are unconscious to the other. In one and the same individual there are two streams of consciousness apparently wholly uncon- nected. When one is above ground, the other is below. The sphtting of the empirical personality may go even further. Three and more personalities in the same individual have been described. The physiology of such changes is even more undeveloped than their psychology. If we understood the physiological basis of the continuity of memory we would undoubtedly have a better insight into their nature. On the psychological side our own subconscious life and alterations of mood are perhaps the basis of these more marked transformations of personality. But in the midst of all these changes, great or little, there is only one psychie field in which they occur, and that is the one Ego, the one metaphysical personality, the one substrate of our mental life. CHAPTER IV DREAMS AND THE UNCONSCIOUS Berrore approaching the study of the various methods of analyzing the unconscious it will be useful to understand some- thing about the theory of dreams, for one of the most important methods of analyzing the unconscious is the method of dream interpretation. Sigmund Freud has the credit for giving the psy- chological world its first true insight into the nature of dreams. We shall therefore commence our study of dreams with an out- line and criticism of the Freudian view. According to Freud, ‘‘ some reference to the experiences of the day which has most recently passed 1s to be found m every dream.’’ 4 He gives various examples in which he has been able to trace the dream to some incident which transpired in the day that had just elapsed. In my own experience with dream analysis this principle seems in general justified. Sometimes, however, the incident which gives rise to the dream is not the day just past but dates two or three days previous to the night of the dream. It is true also, as Freud suggests, that something which is apparently trivial is the starting point in which the dream takes its rise. Thus, a middle aged lady reported to me the following dream as one that had absolutely no meaning. She dreamt that she had been an ostrich feather and had been changed into a feather duster. Analysis revealed that she was really very much worried about the approach of old age. The dream, therefore, has the following interpretation. In her youthful days she was the ostrich feather; now no one pays any attention to her, everyone passes her by and she is neglected. The source of the dream was related, by association, to her noticing the day previous a feather which had fallen from a feather duster on *The Interpretation of Dreams, English translation, New York, 1913, p. 139. 30 DREAMS AND THE UNCONSCIOUS 31 the floor, and for some reason or another the thought came to her mind that everybody was walking over this neglected piece of feather duster. In her waking hours she did not see the analogy between the much-trampled feather and herself, but in the night- time her anxiety expressed itself in a dream by a symbolism which had its origin in a trivial incident of the previous day’s experience. As we shall see, in the theory of dreams outlined below, dream-life probably takes its start in the thought of the day that has just elapsed. It is not, therefore, surprising that the dream is associated with the incidents of the day before. Not only is the dream according to Freud related to the day that has just elapsed, but it also goes back to the experiences of early childhood. Thus, he says: ‘‘ The dream often appears ambiguous, not only may several wish-fulfilments, as the examples show, be united in it, but one meaning or one wish-fulfilment may also conceal another, until at the bottom one comes upon the ful- filment of a wish from the earliest period of childhood; and here too it may be questioned whether ‘ often ’ in this sentence may not more correctly be replaced by ‘regularly.’ ’’? He gives the following example: ‘‘ A physician in the thirties tells me that a yellow lion, about which he can give the most de- tailed information, has often appeared in his dream-life from the earliest period of his childhood to the present day. This lion, known to him from his dreams, was one day discovered 77 natura as a long forgotten object made of porcelain and on that occasion the young man learned from his mother that this object had been his favorite toy in childhood, a fact which he himself could no longer remember.’’ ® In my own experience the word ‘‘ often ’’ in Freud’s state- ment should not be replaced by ‘‘ regularly ’’’ but rather by ‘‘ seldom.’’ According to Freud also, all dreams have in them something of a sexual element. Here again it would seem that the tendency to generalize is exaggerated, for it can scarcely be proved that all dreams have in them a sexual element, but only that many 2 Op. cit., p. 184. * Op. cit., p. 159. 32 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND dreams that seem free from it are nevertheless found on analy- sis to reveal some kind of hidden sexuality. The third and fourth chapters of Freud’s Interpretation of © Dreams constitute an attempt on his part to demonstrate that all dreams whatsoever are wish-fulfilments, and that there is no such thing as a fear or an anxiety expressing itself in our dream- life. He points out that the dreams of children are frequently plain, ungarnished wish-fulfilments. This I think anyone will be able to confirm who pays attention from time to time to the dreams that children recount. Thus, for example, I remember a child at a little inn where I stopped over night on a tramp through the Sierra Nevadas: The child was told that a lion inhabited a big black crevice in the rocks above and that if he would wait up at night he could see him come out in the moon- light and hear him roar. Naturally, the child wished to stay up and hear the lion, but was put to bed. The next morning he came down in great glee rubbing his hands and telling how he dreamt of the big hon coming out of the rock and prancing about and roaring to his heart’s content. The child, therefore, was not to be outdone. He was forbidden to stay up and see the lion so he got out of the difficulty by seeing him in a dream. Naturally, Freud does not maintain that all dreams are plain, ungarnished wish-fulfilments for this would be disproved by nightmares and various frightful experiences in dreams. The dreams of adults, he says, are seldom like the dreams of children because of the distortion that the wish must suffer in order to attain its expression. We must, therefore, distinguish between the manifest and the latent content of dreams. The manifest content is usually a meaningless phantasmagoria in which per- sonalities are disguised. In the disguised personality there is, however, usually something of the nature of the devil’s cloven hoof that betrays his character, such as the color of the hair, the presence of a beard, a peculiarity in the clothing, ete. One eannot, according to Freud, argue from the fact that persons in a dream are men or women, that, therefore, they must refer to men or women in reality; for a man may appear as a woman in a dream and vice versa. Furthermore, dream personalities are DREAMS AND THE UNCONSCIOUS 33 sometimes the telescoping into one of several individuals in real life. From the fact that one dreams of some frightful and terri- fying incident you cannot argue that the dream does not repre- sent a wish-fulfilment. Thus, for instance, a young lady dreamt of her father’s death. She had a real affection for her father. How is it possible for a dream of this kind to represent a wish- fulfilment? As a matter of fact, however, her father was an invalid, absorbed a great deal of her time in caring for him, and prevented her mingling in social activities for which she had a craving. His death alone could free her, but to consciously think of this would be against the natural principles of a dutiful daughter. Therefore, she repressed into the background of con- sciousness any wish that might make itself manifest to obtain her freedom by her father’s death. The unconscious, however, is no respector of persons or of principles. It wants what it desires without regard to consequences or the ideals imposed by educa- tion, or the sanctions of morality. The dream of the girl, there- fore, represents an unconscious wish, a desire for freedom. In this way it may be proved that many dreams are wish-fulfilments in spite of their manifest content, but can we, from any amount of analysis, demonstrate that all dreams are wish-fulfilments? I might mention cases where patients have dreamt of deaths of individuals in which no reason could be found by analysis why these patients would desire the death of the person of whom they dreamt. The Freudians will answer to any such cases as these that the dream is not adequately analyzed, in fact, Freud disposed of a number of dreams that are apparently exceptions to his theory in the following way: ‘‘If I group the ever fre- quently occurring dreams of this sort, which seem flatly to con- tradict my theory, in that they contain the denial of a wish or some occurrence decidedly unwished for, under the head of counter wish-dreams, I observe that they may all be referred to two principles, of which one has not yet been mentioned, although it plays a large part in the dreams of human beings. One of the motives inspiring these dreams is the wish that I should appear in the wrong. These dreams regularly occur in the course of my treatment if the patient shows a resistance to me, and 34 THE ANALYSIS OF MIND I ean count with a large degree of certainty upon causing such a dream after I once explain to the patient my theory that the dream is a wish-fulfilment.’’ + : It may be that Freud is right in referring the dreams that seem to be exemplifications of the inadequacy of his theory to a desire on the part of the patient to prove that his theory is wrong. Asa matter of fact, patients do attempt to demonstrate the falsity of the theory when once it has been proposed to them or at least they will give a dream which is apparently not a wish- fulfilment and say: ‘‘There, this shows that the theory is not eorrect.’’ Thus a patient once related to me as disproving the wish-fulfilment theory of dreams that she had dreamt that her mother had gone to live with her sister-in-law. ‘‘There,’’ she said, ‘‘ is a perfectly common-place event that has no relation whatsoever to any wish-fulfilment.’’ One of the patient’s diffi- culties, however, was precisely with her mother, inasmuch as her mother had the unfortunate habit of drinking too much, and during these times had caused the patient serious trouble and anxiety. Knowing this I immediately asked the patient if she did not have a grudge against her sister-in-law. She answered with some vehemence: ‘‘ I hate her.’’ The meaning therefore is apparent. She wishes to burden her sister-in-law with the troubles that she has with her mother. It would be very difficult by Freudian methods, however, to prove or disprove the Freudian theory. Whether or not all dreams are wish-fulfilments must be determined by the theory of dreams itself. According to Freud the reason why dreams are symbolic and not plain downright wish-fulfilments is that there exists in our mental life a censor. Education and environment place upon us many restrictions and, therefore, we cannot do all the things that we would like to do, we become ashamed of those things that society frowns upon. We look on them as un- worthy of ourselves, and therefore repress them, banishing them utterly from our mental life. The censor does not allow these things to appear in consciousness in a plain, ungarnished form. Freud says: ‘‘ The censor behaves analogously to the Russian newspaper censor on the frontier, who allows to fall into the hands Gs Op. Cth, pp. 188-184. ( 0. )) | lle een PG) bl ger iin DREAMS AND THE UNCONSCIOUS 35 of his protected readers only those foreign journals that have passed under the black pencil.’’® No explanation has ever been given of the psychological nature of this censor. He is awake both day and night, eternally active with his black pencil. I determined to obtain some light on the theory of dreams by a study of what I termed hypnotic analogies.® If one dozes off to sleep in day time he frequently passes from a trend of thought of waking life into something which is very much akin to what occurs in our dreams, for example: ‘‘ T was reading this morning the epistle of St. Clement to the Corinthians. I looked up the word zapdézrwya, finding the - sense ‘ a fall beside,’ metaphorically, a transgression. | 15 ee ot 0) et | 0s = oS A=] re ste ost lore | st es “6c | eee | res | ges | or “62 | se | os | rez | st” zoe | res | #2 |ooe. | 8 ‘aqnw| ‘aa [Awl aw out, "H| “ON | SsoTUle J | Ve T#¢ °9 9°90T L Leg CHik |S = 6s | oro | ost | orm | et Sis ey eecrae: ot — | gue) (Seer 1 =| Vz ZS¢ zg STS 02 rl 6°29 SLI L2L Ot 9°9 SSL eo] GQ LL LI ere ete | 0% Lh 90¢ | ¥20T rat = 9:1 |= ges 6'6 ZoL Ot +18 "16 PSI | L'¥6 €°SI 8°98 PI U'St ogg PIS LS ST g°6 LoL r TI Z°86 61 8'OT 8°02 Zot "001 0% 9°99 Z0°86 Zz OT 9°69 8°98 T'SO1 II rl 6°69 6°01 8°16 ZI ZL 8°59 ¢O1 9°18 gt Ost ZBL 2 9°28 PI ATA foun Ww] ‘AW | OmLL ‘y on se ee ew ee a100FT “AL @SBIIAB SBLIVG ee ee wee wee OSBIIAB SBlIIG eeovveeeoseoseeee eSCIBAB SALIVg -Joofqng, - [oyu FREEDOM OF THE WILL 397 a second; M. V., to the mean variation; M. Time, to the move- ment time; R. D., to the difference between the reaction time followed by the painful stimulus and the reaction time which was unaccompanied by a painful stimulus; M. D., to the difference between the movement time accompanied by a painful stimulus and the movement time without any painful stimulus. The series were taken on different days, but always paired series painful and painless on the same day, but in different orders on different days. The reaction times and the movement times were both re- corded by a tuning fork vibrating five hundred times a second. The subjects were untrained in psychological experiment, with but one exception. From the averages given, we may conclude that there is a very definite tendency for the expectation of a painful stimulus to retard the movement of reaction by which the painful stimu- lus is inflicted. The expectation of the pain so paralyzes the motor mechanism in some subjects that they are unable to make - the subsequent movement as rapidly as under normal conditions, even though they know that the quicker they make the movement the shorter will be the duration of the pain. This was the case, however, with only two of the seven subjects. The remaining five showed no marked difference in the movement time under the two conditions. Whether or not this represents individual differ- ences in voluntary control or sensibility to the faradie current cannot be determined from the present experiment. What would happen to voluntary control if the expected pain were much greater and the effects more lasting than in our experiments? We ean readily conceive such a condition as would seriously interfere with voluntary control. Perhaps, under certain conditions of fear, responsibility in some persons would be done away with. But between this extreme condition and the simple ones in our experiments there is a considerable field in which pain, though it may retard voluntary action, does not render it impossible or take away responsibility entirely. Our experiments seem also to indicate that there is a difference in the power of different individuals to overcome by voluntary effort the inhibitory effects of fear, though we cannot rule out 398 VOLITIONAL CONTROL entirely the possibility that the observed differences were due in our experiments to differences in the sensibility of the skin. It is interesting to note that subjects who manifested a marked difference in their reaction time under the two conditions were often entirely unconscious of any influence of the pain- ful expectation. It is clear, from ordinary experience and introspections, that the pleasant and the disagreeable facilitate and inhibit voluntary action. But it is not clear from ordinary experience that pleas- ure and pain are the only factors in human action, or that vol- untary acts are absolutely determined by emotional factors and impulsive drives. 3. We may, therefore, ask the question: Is man, in any of his actions, ever truly the lord and master of his own will so that he is accountable for choosing one of the many roads to happiness rather than another? Here is the real crux of the problem of freedom. The question is one of fact and should not be deter- mined by metaphysical assumptions about the constitution of the world in general and human nature in particular. Leaving aside, therefore, all theory for the moment, let us consider the following facts: (a) Every man believes in his own responsibility. If aman by his own laziness and negligence should lose his position and his family come to want, he would not attribute their misfor- tune to the machinery of the cosmos, but would hold himself responsible for what had happened independent of any theory about the ultimate constitution of things. Every man believes in his own responsibility in regard to some things in his life, no matter what his metaphysical assumptions may be. (b) Every man holds other beings responsible for their actions. Law is built upon this belief in responsibility. If any- body injures you or those who are dear to you, you do not attribute the injury to the mechanism of the cosmos and let it go at that; you hold him responsible for what he has done. (c) Every man believes in the power of his own initiative. If anyone wants a position he does not wait for the mechanism of the cosmos to pick him up and place him in the position that he seeks. He bestirs himself, and he believes that if he is active FREEDOM OF THE WILL 399 and tries hard, he has a better chance of getting a position than if he leaves everything to the hidden forces of nature. Experi- ence demonstrates that idleness leads to nothing, and action brings success, and everyone is convinced in practical life of the value of personal initiative. If these things are so, if we live and act upon these principles, then we should be honest and believe in what they imply. Re- sponsibility for action and the power of initiative imply free- dom. No machine has any power of initiative. No machine is responsible. We are convinced, by practical experience, of our personel responsibility and the power of initiative. We should, therefore, be willing to admit everything that this implies. The implication is freedom. We may not be able to explain it. We may not be able to understand why. But this does not rule out the fact. We cannot explain gravity, but we do not doubt it. Why, therefore, should we doubt freedom because we cannot explain it? Doubt about our freedom comes not from facts, not from experience, but from metaphysics. One metaphysical ground which leads many to deny the plain fact of freedom is the mechanistic view of the world. Nothing exists, according to this view, except matter and material energy. Everything is subject to the push and pull of mechanical forces. Knergy in the last analysis is nothing more or less than that which moves a mass with a given velocity. If, therefore, there is nothing in the world but energy and matter, naturally there can be no freedom. The great physical chemist, Ostwald, in 1894, pointed out certain considerations which he thought made it im- possible to apply the mechanical theory of energy to organic life and particularly the mental life of man. As the physicist, Hertz, has pointed out, an essential charac- teristic of the system of mechanical forces is their reversibility. One needs but to change the sign of velocity from plus to minus, wherever it may appear in the equations, and velocity is reversed *Ostwald, W., Chemische Theorie der Willensfretheit. Berichte iiber den Verhandlungen der Kéniglich sdchsischen Gesellschaft der Wissen- schaften zu Leipzig, XLIV, 1894, pp. 334-343. Jakob Hacks developed the same line of thought more fully in the Archiv fiir systematische Philosophie, 1899, V, pp. 202-214. 400 VOLITIONAL CONTROL and everything moves in opposite directions. Thus, if the velocity of the earth were suddenly changed, the sun instead of setting would go back to its position at dawn. As far as we can see, in mechanical things, it makes very little ditference whether they move in one direction or the reverse. But Ostwald points out that it is characteristic of vital operations that they are not reversible. For some reason it is impossible that an oak should reverse the velocity of its molecules and return again to the con- dition of an acorn. Such things may be represented to us in the moving pictures by reversing the order of their presentation but involve, in reality, physical impossibilities. However that may be, it certainly makes an essential difference whether mental operations proceed in one way rather than another. If one listens to a speech, it is perfectly capable of being understood as delivered. If, however, the velocity of the movements of the speaker’s voice were to be reversed and the sounds should come to the hearer in reversed order, and his mental operations proceed from the end of the speech to the beginning, it certainly would make a much more profound difference than if the sun were to rise in the west and set in the east. Ostwald goes as far as to say: ‘" , { v fr d fi 1 mm j t mp ww 4 f * i te isd ie ns ty it wee at rebut iia rye Ni, cS Pet aN a Toe hs Wh tp Wat re a i Gia i! TRAN ‘ ) wy SRD MY) AUS Site Me Ream Hy i yah} ‘ 4 . S MY, thé [yy py. ; fe ‘ac ‘ A} A wks hth ys he i ay ‘S$ iia Cd, sah U. su it? “onl 4 4 wrort vale i P . Y ¢ ices Aas AOE ti BK yi Neat ; | ) Cay nel s i f 4 ey fan, “ie a eG Mi iF it bh a, ¥ fy AS hen AM “ay 4 ibaa ' cay a . Wye Hany rusian. TARE ace \ iit Pa AA ae a ye ess age ene ht Aaa i Ay Ee me ie @ Giana ee is NP Peasy a fi a ‘ ies Te An wt Wi ‘ f 4 ay eg fe ge sy mi a a Me bh Yee ead bea gi e Pe Nana 1 ay BY ORUIRHESR Ph th atsns I. jepbini ny, Ton weeiags ‘Cy mate ‘ ty 4 a i Pe (4 i rT) al Wh een Mm te Pe pene Ath 1 baky thy bb it, ye, gas Bt Aina d hese aie a Mig hs ais “aie iwi a ; | ts Ne . ie bi 4 "esaibayt vi ps ha Ny ‘ rian P ca ee aye a , ae i i 1} | We yy vy, ie J ‘ ¢i % ii a { 4 i Hi ‘ ‘ 4 i . Wa ies iN yany’ iy toa + MNS eS et MeN oe se \ ie Paani A ne sai INDEX OF PROPER NAMES A Ach, Narziss, 315 Adler, Alfred, 177 f., 247, 253, 279 ff., 298 d’Allonnes, R. G., 115, 118 n. Anaxagoras, 42 Angell, James R., 334 ff., 339 f. Aristotle, 4 f., 10, 111, 180, 408 Audibert, A. C. M., 116 n. B Bain, 312 Bancroft, 93 _ Barnes, 176 n. Barrett, E. Boyd, 387 ff. Bastian, H. Charlton, 349 n. Batten, 355 Bechterew, W. V., 64 ff., 68 f., 118, 148 ‘Beethoven, Ludwig van, 178 f., 281 Bell Charles, 116 Bernard, Claude, 351 n. Binet, Alfred, 21, 46, 299 Birnbaum, Karl, 214, 368 n., 373 Bjerre, Poul, 251 n. Blaauw, 94 Blanton, Margaret Gray, 343 f. Blasius, 92 Bleuler, 20 f., 266 Bonatelli, 66 Brazzola, 355 Brentano, 6 f. Breuer, 253 ff., 271 Bruckner, 281 Biihler, Karl, 336 ff. Bunsen, 94, 96 Burke, Caroline F., 171 n. Burnett, Charles Theodore, 340 29 Cc Cesalpinus of Arezzo, 349 n. Jalkins, Mary Whiton, 9, 315 Cannon, Walter B., 126 ff. Cason, Hulsey, 69 f. Cattaneo, A., 354 f, Coffin, Joseph Herschel, 315 Curschmann, Hans, 359 n. D Dante, 181 Dejerine, 251 n. Demosthenes, 178, 281 Descartes, 402 f. Downey, June E., 323 ff., 334, 390 f, Driesch, H., 16, 405 ff. Dubois, Paul, 251 n. Duchenne, 116 f, Dumas G., 117 KE Ebert, 287 Kisenlohr, 355 Erdmann, 337 Eucken, 337 F Favre, M., 353 n., 355 f., 367 Fechner, Gustav Theodor, 6 Fichte, 409 f. Forster, 355 Frank, 39 ff. Franz, H., 366 n. Freud, Sigmund, 23, 30 ff., 38, 41, 210, 215 n., 241 f., 245, 251 n., 253 ff., 264 n., 268 ff., 298, 303 Frink, 210 441 442 Fritsch, 64 Frébes, Joseph, 190 n. Frost, E. P., 8 n., 66 n. G Gauckler, 251 n. ~* Goldenweiser, A. A., 264 f., 275 £., 278 Goldscheider, 357 Griesinger, 66 Groos, 145 H Haberlandt, 82, 86 Hacks Jakob, 399 n. Hall, G, Stanley, 170 n., 171 n., 176 n. Hamel, Ignatius, 69, 71 Hamilton, William, 349 n. Healy, William, 27, 164 Henderson, E. N., 214 Hermann, 92 Hertz, 399 Hess, 59 n. Hitschmann, 256 Hitzig, 64 J James, William, 8, 13 f., 44, 108, DLT i, 118 |£.;) 321 fF, 125 S38) 321 f., 324 ff., 330, 341, 362, 363 n., 401 Janet, 17, 271 Jennings, H. §., 85, 89 ff. Jung, Carl Gustav, 36, 38, 242 ff., 251 n., 265 ff., 298, 303 Jungmann, Joseph, 110 K Kahlbaum, 219 Kant, Immanuel, 43, 49 f., 107, 389, 403, 409 Kiesow, F., 196 n. Kirkpatrick, 346 Kline, 164 INDEX OF PROPER NAMES Koch, 287 Koelliker, 352 Kostyleff, V., 66 n., 69 Kraepelin, E., 213 Kreidl, 84 Kroeber, 276 Kiilpe, Oswald, 336 Kuhlmann, F., 299 L Lange, Ludwig, 74, 108, 111 ff., 118 f£., 121 f., 133 Lashley, K. S., 364 f. Lehmann, 107 Lennander, 357 f. Lewinsky, 357 Lindworsky, J., 46, 312 n. Loeb, Jacques, 79, 83 n., 87 f., 90, 92 ff. Lyon, E. P., 85 f. M MacCurdy, John T., 206, 251 n. MacDowell, E. C., 63 McDonough, Agnes, 339 McDougall, W., 145 McGrath, Marie C., 164 n. MeNeil, Donald, 385 n., 386 Marbe, 338 Marey, 121 Mast, 93 Maxwell, 92 Meier, Norman C., 391 n. Melancthon, Philip, 3, 5 Mendel, Gregor, 282 Mendelssohn, 91 Meyer, Adolph, 181, 284 ff. Meyer, O. B., 358 n. Miller-Hettlingen, J., 92 Mitchel, 74 Monakow, 347 n., 348 Monroe, W. S., 171 n. Moore, Kathleen Carter, 144 INDEX OF PROPER NAMES Moore, T. V., 75 n., 76 n., 283 n.,; 336 n., 338 n., 339 n. Moreau, 116 Morgan, 408 n. Mosso, 120 Mott, 351 Mozart, 281 Miihl, Anita, 41 Miiller, E. G., 366 n. Miiller, J., 362 f. Myer, 36 N Nagel, 57 n. Nemec, 82 .@) Oehrwall, 357 -Oltmanns, F., 88 n. Oppenheim, 119 Osler, Sir William, 159 Ostwald, W., 399 ff. Lf Pawlow, Ivan P., 63, 68 f., 71 f. Payot, 387 Pearson, Karl, 282 Pelliet, 355 Pfungst, Oskar, 328 ff. Pieron, 77 Pillsbury, W. B., 358 f. Prince, Morton, 25 f. R Regaud, Cl., 352 n., 353, 355 f., 361, 367 Ribot, 312, 372 Richet, Charles, 66 f. Roscoe, 94, 96 Rose, 327 443 S Sachs, 353 f. Scaliger, Julius Cesar, 349 n. Schlesinger, E. G., 70 n., 359, 361 n. Sehmidt, Ad., 359 n. Schumann, 362 f. Schiippel, 349 Schweizer, 92 Sétchénoff, 66 Shakespeare, William, 195 Sheldon, 170 Shelly, Percy Bysshe, 221, 283 n. Sherrington, 76 f., 124, 351, 353, 355 Socrates, 42, 395 Spencer, Herbert, 137 Spiegel, Otto, 119 Stérring, 326 f. Stratton, G. M., 104 Striimpell, Adolf, 312, 350, 360 Stumpf, 103, 108 Sulzer, John George, 43 Ab Tait, William D., 215 Taylor, Clifton O., 337 Terman, L. M., 299 Thomas Acquinas, Saint, 18 n., 19 n., 392 ff. Thompson, Francis, 221 Thorndike, E. L., 147, 322 Titchener, E. B., 46 Tourette, Gilles de la, 359 n. Trettien, 346 Vv van der Hoop, J. H., 251 n. van Helmont, 403 Verworn, E. G., 79 n., 84 n., 91 f., 182 Vicari, E. M., 63 von Frey, M., 357 ff. von Hartmann, 17 von Stauffenberg, 39 444 INDEX OF PROPER NAMES W Woodrow, Herbert, 76 ff., 316 n. Watson, John B., 7 f., 70, 138, 343 ff. | Woodworth, Robert Sessions, 331 ff., Weber, Ernst, 366 f. 341 ; Weissmann, 407 Wundt, Wilhelm, 6, 74 f., 103 ff., Wheeler, Raymond H., 312 n., 315 122 f., 312, 320 n., 363 n., 409 ff. White, William A., 22, 179, 259 Winch, 122 Wittig, K., 387 Wolff, Christian, 5 Ziehen, T., 312 Z Nae voy nae th bs ft ‘Al ; iy ib v bess Thee ‘Sa wai LT 7 a) ye ye } Lay sf aur ART) ae te ’ i ai i oa ayn ¥ Bd Amat ay eRe vt it ; ” a oe Mh bs une ae a is be ‘es & oe | S “ Melons Ne Pee Ae: pa ae BF121 .M82 roe psychology : an ee to rinceton Theological Seminary LO l] 1 1012 00103 9991