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PSYCHOLOGY OF 
 THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 A Study of the Transformations 
 and Symbolisms of the Libido 
 
 A Contribution to the History of the Evolution of Thought 
 
 BY 
 
 Dr. C. G. JUNG 
 
 Of the University of Zurich 
 AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION, WITH INTRODUCTION, BY 
 
 BEATRICE M. HINKLE, M.D. 
 
 Of the Neurological Department of Cornell University Medical 
 School and of the New York Post Graduate Medical School 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
 
 1931 
 

 Copyright, 1916, by 
 
 MOFFAT, YARD AND COMPANY 
 
 New York 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Second Printing, September, 1916 
 Reprinted, November, 1917 
 
TRANSLATOR'S NOTE 
 
 That humanity is seeking a new message, a new light 
 upon the meaning of life, and something tangible, as it 
 were, with which it can work towards a larger under- 
 standing of itself and its relation to the universe, is a 
 fact I think none will gainsay. Therefore, it has 
 seemed to me particularly timely to introduce to the Eng- 
 lish-speaking world Dr. Jung's remarkable book, " Wand- 
 lungen und Symbole der Libido." In this work he has 
 plunged boldly into the treacherous sea of mythology and 
 folklore, the productions of the ancient mind and that of 
 the common people, and turned upon this vast material 
 the same scientific and painstaking method of psychologic 
 analysis that is applied to the modern mind, in order to 
 reveal the common bond of desire and longing which 
 unites all humanity, and thus bridge the gaps presumed 
 to exist between ancient and widely separated peoples and 
 those of our modern time. The discovery of this under- 
 current affecting and influencing ancient peoples as well 
 as modern serves as a foundation or platform from which 
 he proceeds to hold aloft a new ideal, a new goal of 
 attainment possible of achievement and which can be in- 
 tellectually satisfying, as well as emotionally appealing: 
 the goal of moral autonomy. 
 
 This book, remarkable for its erudition and the tre- 
 mendous labor expended upon it, as well as for the new 
 
vi TRANSLATOR'S NOTE 
 
 light which it sheds upon human life, its motives, its 
 needs and its possibilities, is not one for desultory read- 
 ing or superficial examination. Such an approach ^will 
 prevent the reader from gaining anything of its real 
 value; but for those who can bring a serious interest and 
 willingness to give a careful study to it the work will 
 prove to be a veritable mine capable of yielding the 
 greatest riches. 
 
 The difficulties in translating a book such as this are 
 almost insuperable, but I have tried faithfully to express 
 Dr. Jung's thought, keeping as close to the original text 
 as possible and, at the same time, rendering the difficult 
 material and complicated German phrasing as simply and 
 clearly as the subject-matter would allow. In all this 
 work I owe much to Miss Helen I. Brayton, without 
 whose faithful assistance the work would never have been 
 completed. I wish to acknowledge my gratitude to Mr. 
 Louis Untermeyer, whose help in rendering the poetic 
 quotations into English verse has been invaluable, and to 
 express as well my gratitude to other friends who have 
 assisted me in various ways from time to time. 
 
 B. M. H. 
 
 New York, 1915. 
 
AN INTRODUCTION TO PSYCHOANALYSIS 
 AND ANALYTIC PSYCHOLOGY 
 
 When Professor Freud of Vienna made his early- 
 discoveries in the realm of the neuroses, and announced 
 that the basis and origin of the various symptoms 
 grouped under the terms hysteria and neuroses lay in 
 unfulfilled desires and wishes, unexpressed and unknown 
 to the patient for the most part, and concerned chiefly 
 with the sexual instinct, it was not realized what far- 
 reaching influence this unpopular and bitterly attacked 
 theory would exert on the understanding of human life 
 in general. 
 
 For this theory has so widened in its scope that its 
 application has now extended beyond a particular group 
 of pathologic states. It has in fact led to a new evalua- 
 tion of the whole conduct of human life; a new compre- 
 hension has developed which explains those things which 
 formerly were unexplained, and there is offered an 
 understanding not only of the symptoms of a neurosis 
 and the phenomena of conduct but the product of the 
 mind as expressed in myths and religions. 
 
 This amazing growth has proceeded steadily in an 
 ever-widening fashion despite opposition as violent as 
 any of which we have knowledge in the past. The criti- 
 cism originally directed towards the little understood and 
 
viii INTRODUCTION 
 
 much disliked sexual conception now includes the further 
 teachings of a psychology which by the application to it 
 of such damning phrases as mystical, metaphysical and 
 sacrilegious, is condemned as unscientific. 
 
 To add to the general confusion and misundertanding 
 surrounding this new school of thought there has arisen 
 a division amongst the leaders themselves, so that there 
 now exist two schools led respectively by Professor 
 Sigmund Freud of Vienna and Dr. Carl Jung of Zurich, 
 referred to in the literature as the Vienna School and 
 the Zurich School. 
 
 It is very easy to understand that criticism and opposi- 
 tion should develop against a psychology so difficult of 
 comprehension, and so disturbing to the ideas which have 
 been held by humanity for ages; a psychology which 
 furthermore requires a special technique as well as an 
 observer trained to recognize and appreciate in psycho- 
 logic phenomena a verification of the statement that 
 there is no such thing as chance, and that every act and 
 every expression has its own meaning, determined by the 
 inner feelings and wishes of the individual. 
 
 It is not a simple matter to come out boldly and state 
 that every individual is to a large extent the determiner 
 of his own destiny, for only by poets and philosophers 
 has this idea been put forth — not by science; and it is a 
 brave act to make this statement with full consciousness 
 of all its meaning, and to stand ready to prove it by 
 scientific reasoning and procedure. 
 
 Developed entirely through empirical investigation and 
 through an analysis of individual cases, Freudian psy- 
 
INTRODUCTION ix 
 
 chology seems particularly to belong to that conception 
 of Max Miiller's that " An empirical acquaintance with 
 facts rises to a scientific knowledge of facts as soon as 
 the mind discovers beneath the multiplicity of single 
 productions the unity of an organic system." * 
 
 Psychoanalysis is the name given to the method de- 
 veloped for reaching down Into the hidden depths of the 
 individual to bring to light the underlying motives and 
 determinants of his symptoms and attitudes, and to reveal 
 the unconscious tendencies which lie behind actions and 
 reactions and which influence development and determine 
 the relations of life Itself. The result of digging down 
 Into the hidden psyche has been to produce a mass of 
 material from below the threshold of consciousness, so 
 astonishing and disturbing and out of relation with the 
 previously held values, as to arouse in any one unfamiliar 
 with the process the strongest antagonism and criticism. 
 
 Although originally studied only as a therapeutic 
 method for the sick, it was soon realized through an 
 analysis of normal people how slight were the differences 
 in the content of the unconscious of the sick and of the 
 normal. The differences observed were seen to be rather 
 In the reactions to life and to the conflicts produced by 
 contending forces in the individual. 
 
 These conflicts, usually not fully perceived by the In- 
 dividual, and having to do with objectionable desires and 
 wishes that are not In keeping with the conscious Idea of 
 self, produce marked effects which are expressed either 
 in certain opinions, prejudices, attitudes of conduct, 
 
 * " Science of Language," first series, p. 25. 
 
X INTRODUCTION 
 
 faulty actions, or in some definite pathologic symptom. 
 As Dr. Jung says, he who remains healthy has to struggle 
 with the same complexes that cause the neurotic to fall ill. 
 
 In a valuable book called " The Neighbor," written 
 by the late Professor N. Shaler of Harvard University, 
 there occurs this very far-reaching statement: "It is 
 hardly too much to say that all the important errors of 
 conduct, all the burdens of men or of societies are caused 
 by the inadequacies in the association of the primal animal 
 emotions with those mental powers which have been so 
 rapidly developed in mankind." 
 
 This statement, reached by a process of reasoning 
 and a method of thought and study entirely different 
 from psychoanalysis, nevertheless so completely ex- 
 presses in brief form the very basis of the postulates 
 developed through psychoanalysis that I quote it here. 
 Such a statement made in the course of a general exam- 
 ination of human relations does not arouse opposition nor 
 seem to be so difficult of acceptance. It appears to be 
 the individual application of these conceptions that has 
 roused such bitter antagonism and violent denuncia- 
 tions. 
 
 Rightly understood and used, psychoanalysis may be 
 compared to surgery, for psychoanalysis stands in the 
 same relation to the personality as surgery does to the 
 body, and they aim at parallel results. 
 
 It is well recognized that in the last analysis nature is 
 the real physician, the healer of wounds; but prior to the 
 development of our modern asepsis and surgical technique 
 the healing produced by nature was most often of a very 
 
INTRODUCTION xi 
 
 faulty and Imperfect type — hideous scars, distorted and 
 crippled limbs, with functions impaired or incapacitated, 
 resulted from the wounds, or else nature was unable to 
 cope with the hurt and the injured one succumbed. 
 
 Science has been steadily working for centuries with 
 the aim of understanding nature and finding means to 
 aid and co-operate with her so that healing could take 
 place with the least possible loss of function or permanent 
 injury to the individual. Marvelous results have re- 
 warded these persistent efforts, as the brilliant achieve- 
 ments of surgery plainly indicate. 
 
 Meantime, however, little thought was given to the 
 possibility of any scientific method being available to help 
 man overcome the wounds and conflicts taking place in 
 his soul, hurts which retarded his development and prog- 
 ress as a personality, and which frequently In the struggle 
 resulted In physical pains and symptoms of the most 
 varied character. That was left solely to religion and 
 metaphysics. Now, however, this same assistance that 
 surgery has given to the physical body, psychoanalysis 
 attempts to give to the personality. That it cannot 
 always succeed is as much to be expected, and more, 
 than that surgery does not always succeed, for the 
 analytic work requires much of the individual. No 
 real result can be attained if he has not already 
 developed a certain quality of character and Intelli- 
 gence which makes It possible for him to submit 
 himself to a facing of his naked soul, and to the pain and 
 suffering which this often entails. Here, as in no other 
 relation In life, an absolute truth and an absolute honesty 
 
xii INTRODUCTION 
 
 are the only basis of action, since deception of any kind 
 deceives no one but the individual himself and acts as a 
 boomerang, defeating his own aims. 
 
 Such deep searching and penetrating into the soul is 
 not something to be undertaken lightly nor to be con- 
 sidered a trivial or simple matter, and the fact is that 
 where a strong compulsion is lacking, such as sickness 
 or a situation too difficult to meet, much courage is 
 required to undertake it. 
 
 In order to understand this psychology which is per- 
 vading all realms of thought and seems destined to be a 
 new psychological-philosophical system for the under- 
 standing and practical advancement of human life, it will 
 be necessary to go somewhat into detail regarding its 
 development and present status. For in this new direc- 
 tion lies its greatest value and its greatest danger. 
 
 The beginnings of this work were first published in 
 1895 ^^ ^ book entitled " Studien iiber Hysteric," and 
 contained the joint investigations into hysteria of Dr. 
 Breuer of Vienna and his pupil Dr. Sigmund Freud. The 
 results of their investigations seemed to show that the 
 various symptoms grouped under the title of hysteria 
 were the result of emotionally colored reminiscences 
 which, all unknown to the conscious waking self, were 
 really actively expressing themselves through the surro- 
 gate form of symptoms and that these experiences, al- 
 though forgotten by the patient, could be reproduced 
 and the emotional content discharged. 
 
 Hypnosis was the means used to enable the physician 
 to penetrate deeply into the forgotten memories, for it 
 
INTRODUCTION xiii 
 
 was found through hypnosis that these lost Incidents and 
 circumstances were not really lost at all but only dropped 
 from consciousness, and were capable of being revived 
 when given the proper stimuli. The astonishing part 
 about it was that with the revival of these memories and 
 their accompanying painful and disturbing emotions, the 
 symptoms disappeared. This led naturally to the con- 
 clusion that these symptoms were dependent upon some 
 emotional disturbance or psychic trauma which had been 
 inadequately expressed, and that in order to cure the 
 patient one merely had to establish the connection be- 
 tween the memory and the emotions which properly 
 belonged to it, letting the emotion work Itself out through 
 a reproduction of the forgotten scene. 
 
 With further investigation Freud found that hypnosis 
 was unnecessary for the revival of the forgotten experi- 
 ences, and that it was possible to obtain the lost emotional 
 material In the conscious and normal state. For this 
 purpose the patient was encouraged to assume a passive, 
 non-critical attitude and simply let his thoughts flow, 
 speaking of whatever came into his mind, holding nothing 
 back. During this free and easy discussion of his life 
 and conditions, directed by the law of association of 
 ideas, reference was invariably made to the experiences 
 or thoughts which were the most affective and disturbing 
 elements. It was seen to be quite Impossible to avoid 
 this indirect revelation because of the strength of the 
 emotions surrounding these ideas and the effect of the 
 conscious wish to repress unpleasant feelings. This im- 
 portant group of ideas or impressions, with the feelings 
 
xiv INTRODUCTION 
 
 and emotions clustered around them which are betrayed 
 through this process, was called by Jung a complex. 
 
 However, with the touching of the complex which 
 always contains feelings and emotions so painful or un- 
 pleasant as to be unacceptable to consciousness, and which 
 are therefore repressed and hidden, great difficulties ap- 
 peared, for very often the patient came to a sudden stop 
 and could apparently recall nothing more. Memory 
 gaps were frequent, relations twisted, etc. Evidently 
 some force banished these memories so that the person 
 was quite honest in saying that he could remember noth- 
 ing or that there was nothing to tell. This kind of for- 
 getfulness was called repression, and is the normal 
 mechanism by which nature protects the individual from 
 such painful feelings as are caused by unpleasant and un- 
 acceptable experiences and thoughts, the recognition of 
 his egoistic nature, and the often quite unbearable con- 
 flict of his weaknesses with his feelings of idealism. 
 
 At this early time great attention was given towards 
 developing a technique which would render more easy 
 the reproduction of these forgotten memories, for with 
 the abandonment of hypnosis it was seen that some un- 
 known active force was at work which not only banished 
 painful memories and feelings, but also prevented their 
 return; this was called resistance. This resistance 
 was found to be the important mechanism which inter- 
 fered with a free flow of thought and produced the 
 greatest difficulty in the further conduct of the analysis. 
 It appeared under various guises and frequently mani- 
 fested itself in intellectual objections based on reasoning 
 
INTRODUCTION xv 
 
 ground, in criticism directed towards the analyst, or in 
 criticism of the method itself, and finally, often in a com- 
 plete blocking of expression, so that until the resistance 
 was broken nothing more could be produced. 
 
 It was necessary then to find some aid by which these 
 resistances could be overcome and the repressed memories 
 and feelings revived and set free. For it was proven 
 again and again that even though the person was not at 
 all aware of concealing within himself some emotionally 
 disturbing feeling or experience with which his symptoms 
 were associated, yet such was the fact, and that under 
 proper conditions this material could be brought into 
 consciousness. This realm where these unknown but dis- 
 turbing emotions were hidden was called the " Uncon- 
 scious " — the " Unconscious " also being a name used 
 arbitrarily to indicate all that material of which the per- 
 son is not aware at the given time — the not-conscious. 
 
 This term Is used very loosely in Freudian psychology 
 and Is not intended to provoke any academic discussion 
 but to conform strictly to the dictionary classification of 
 a " negative concept which can neither be described nor 
 defined." To say that an idea or feeling is unconscious 
 merely means to indicate that the individual is unaware 
 at that time of its existence, or that all the material of 
 which he is unaware at a given time is unconscious. 
 
 With the discovery of the significance in relation to 
 hysteria of these varied experiences and forgotten mem- 
 ories which always led into the erotic realm and usually 
 were carried far back into early childhood, the theory of 
 an infantile sexual trauma as a cause of this neurosis de- 
 
xvi INTRODUCTION 
 
 veloped. Contrary to the usual belief that children have 
 no sexuality and that only at puberty does it suddenly 
 arise, it was definitely shown that there was a very marked 
 kind of sexuality among children of the most tender years, 
 entirely instinctive and capable of producing a grave effect 
 on the entire later life. 
 
 However, further investigations carried into the lives 
 of normal people disclosed quite as many psychic and 
 sexual traumas in their early childhood as in the lives of 
 the patients; therefore, the conception of the "infantile 
 sexual trauma " as the etiological factor was abandoned 
 in favor of " the infantilism of sexuality " itself. In 
 other words, it was soon realized that many of the sexual 
 traumas which were placed in their early childhood by 
 these patients, did not really exist except in their own 
 phantasies and probably were produced as a defence 
 against the memories of their own childish sexual activ- 
 ities. These experiences led to a deep investigation into 
 the nature of the child's sexuality and developed the 
 ideas which Freud incorporated in a work called " Three 
 Contributions to the Sexual Theory." He found so 
 many variations and manifestations of sexual activity 
 even among young children that he realized that this 
 activity was the normal, although entirely unconscious, 
 expression of the child's developing life, and while not 
 comparable to the adult sexuality, nevertheless pro- 
 duced a very definite influence and effect on the child's 
 life. 
 
 These childish expressions of this instinct he called 
 " polymorphous perverse," because in many ways they 
 
INTRODUCTION xvii 
 
 resembled the various abnormalities called perversions 
 when found among adults under certain conditions. 
 
 In the light of these additional investigations Freud 
 was led to change his formulation, for instead of the 
 symptoms of the neurotic patient being due to definite 
 sexual experiences, they seemed to be determined by 
 his reactions towards his own sexual constitution and 
 the kind of repression to which these instincts were 
 subjected. 
 
 Perhaps one of the greatest sources of misunderstand- 
 ing and difficulty in this whole subject lies in the term 
 sexuality, for Freud's conception of this is entirely dif- 
 ferent from that of the popular sense. He conceives 
 sexuaHty to be practically synonymous with the word 
 love and to include under this term all those tender 
 feelings and emotions which have had their origin in a 
 primitive erotic source, even if now their primary aim is 
 entirely lost and another substituted for it. It must also 
 be borne in mind that Freud strictly emphasizes the 
 psychic side of sexuality and its importance, as well as 
 the somatic expression. 
 
 Therefore, to understand Freud's theories, his very 
 broad conception of the term sexual must never be for- 
 gotten. 
 
 Through this careful investigation of the psychic life 
 of the individual, the tremendous influence and impor- 
 tance of phantasy-making for the fate was definitely 
 shown. It was discovered that the indulgence in day- 
 dreams and phantasies was practically universal not only 
 among children but among adults, that even whole lives 
 
xvm INTRODUCTION 
 
 were being lived out in a phantastic world created by the 
 dreamer, a world wherein he could fulfil all those wishes 
 and desires which were found to be too difficult or im- 
 possible to satisfy in the world of reality. 
 
 Much of this phantasy thinking was seen to be scarcely 
 conscious, but arose from unrealized wishes, desires and 
 strivings which could only express themselves through 
 veiled symbols in the form of phantastic structures not 
 understood, nor fully recognized. Indeed, it is perhaps 
 one of the most common human experiences to find 
 " queer thoughts," undesired ideas and images, forcing 
 themselves upon one's attention to such an extent that 
 the will has to be employed to push them out of mind. 
 It is not unusual to discover long-forgotten impressions 
 of childhood assuming a phantastic shape in memory, and 
 dwelt upon as though they were still of importance. 
 
 This material afforded a rich field for the searchers 
 into the soul, for through the operation of the law of 
 association of ideas these phantastic products, traced back 
 to their origin, revealed the fact that instead of being 
 meaningless or foolish, they were produced by a definite 
 process, and arose from distinct wishes and desires which 
 unconsciously veiled themselves in these mysterious forms 
 and pictures. 
 
 It Is conceded that the most completely unconscious 
 product of an individual is his dream, and therefore Pro- 
 fessor Freud turned his attention from phantasies and 
 day-dreams to the Investigation of the nightly dreams of 
 his patients to discover whether they would throw light 
 upon the painful feelings and Ideas repressed out of 
 
INTRODUCTION xix 
 
 consciousness, and therefore inaccessible to direct revela- 
 tion. 
 
 This brilliant idea soon led to a rich fruiting, for it 
 became evident that contrary to the usual conception that 
 the dream is a phantastic and absurd jumble of hetero- 
 geneous fragments, having no real relation to the life of 
 the individual, it is full of meaning. In fact, it is usually 
 concerned with the problem of life most pressing at the 
 time, which expresses itself not directly, but in symbolic 
 form so as to be unrecognized. In this way the individual 
 gains an expression and fulfilment of his unrealized wish 
 or desire. 
 
 This discovery of the symbolic nature of the dream 
 and the phantasy was brought about entirely through the 
 associative method and developed empirically through 
 investigations of the dreams of many people. In this 
 manner it became evident that certain ideas and objects 
 which recurred again and again in the dreams and phan- 
 tasies of different people were definitely associated with 
 certain unconscious or unrecognized wishes and desires, 
 and were repeatedly used by the mind to express these 
 meanings where a direct form was repressed and un- 
 allowed. Thus certain dream expressions and figures 
 were in a general way considered to be rather definite 
 symbols of these repressed ideas and feelings found in 
 the unconscious. Through a comparative and parallel 
 study it soon appeared that there was a similiar mechan- 
 ism at work in myths and fairy tales and that the rela- 
 tionship between the dreams and phantasies of an individ- 
 ual and the myths and folk tales of a people was so close 
 
XX INTRODUCTION 
 
 that Abraham could say that the myth is a fragment 
 of the infantile soul life of the race and the dream is 
 the myth of the individual. 
 
 Thus through relating his dreams the patient himself 
 furnished the most important means of gaining access to 
 the unconscious and disturbing complexes with which his 
 symptoms were connected. 
 
 Besides the dream analysis the patient furnished other 
 means of revelation of his complexes — his mannerisms 
 and unconscious acts, his opening remarks to his physician, 
 his emotional reactions to certain ideas; in short the whole 
 behavior and verbal expressions of the individual reveal 
 his inner nature and problems. 
 
 Through all this work it became clear that in the 
 emotional nature lay the origin not only of the various 
 nervous illnesses themselves, but also of the isolated 
 symptoms and individual idiosyncrasies and peculiarities 
 which are the part of all humanity and that the patho- 
 genic cause of the disturbances lies not in the ignorance 
 of individuals, but in those inner resistances which are the 
 underlying basis of this ignorance. 
 
 Therefore the aim of the therapy became not merely 
 the relief of the ignorance but the searching out and com- 
 bating of these resistances. 
 
 It becomes evident from even this brief description 
 of the analytic procedure that we are dealing with a very 
 complex and delicate material, and with a technique which 
 needs to make definite use of all influences available for 
 the help of the patient. It has long been recognized 
 that the relation established between physician and pa- 
 
INTRODUCTION xxi 
 
 tient has a great effect upon the medical assistance which 
 he is able to render — in other words, if a confidence and 
 personal regard developed in the patient towards the 
 physician, the latter's advice was just so much more 
 efficacious. This personal feeling has been frankly recog- 
 nized and made of distinct service in psychoanalytic treat- 
 ment under the name of transference. It is through 
 the aid of this definite relationship which must be 
 established In the one being analyzed towards the analyst 
 that it is possible to deal with the unconscious and 
 organized resistances which so easily blind the individual 
 and render the acceptance of the new valuations very 
 difficult to the raw and sensitive soul. 
 
 Freud's emphasis upon the role of the sexual instinct 
 in the production of the neurosis and also In its determin- 
 ing power upon the personality of the normal individual 
 does not imply that he does not also recognize other 
 determinants at the root of human conduct, as for 
 instance, the instinct for preservation of life and the ego 
 principle itself. But these motives are not so violently 
 forbidden and repressed as the sexual impulse, and there- 
 fore, because of that repressive force and the strength 
 of the impulse he considers this primary in Its influence 
 upon the human being. 
 
 The importance of this Instinct upon human life is 
 clearly revealed by the great place given to it under the 
 name of love In art, literature, poetry, romance and all 
 beauty from the beginning of recorded time. Viewed in 
 this light It cannot seem extraordinary that a difficulty 
 or disturbance in this emotional field should produce such 
 
xxii INTRODUCTION 
 
 far-reaching consequences for the individual. The sexual 
 impulse is often compared with that of hunger, and this 
 craving and need lying in all humanity is called by Freud 
 libido. 
 
 The Oedipus Problem 
 
 With further investigations into the nature of the 
 repressed complexes a very astonishing situation was 
 revealed. The parental influence on children is some- 
 thing so well recognized and understood that to call at- 
 tention to it sounds much like a banality. However, here 
 an extraordinary discovery was made, for' in tracing out 
 the feelings and emotions of adults it became evident 
 that this influence was paramount not only for children 
 but for adults as well; that the entire direction of lives 
 was largely determined quite unconsciously by the pa- 
 rental associations, and that, although adults, the emo- 
 tional side of their nature was still infantile in type and 
 demanded unconsciously the infantile or childish rela- 
 tions. 
 
 Freud traces out the commencement of the infantile 
 attachment for the parents in this wise. 
 
 In the beginning the child derives its first satisfaction 
 and pleasure from the mother in the form of nutrition 
 and care for its wants. In this first act of suckling Freud 
 sees already a kind of sexual pleasure, for he apparently 
 identifies the pleasure principle and the sexual instinct 
 and considers that the former is primarily rooted in the 
 latter. At this early time commence such various infan- 
 tile actions unconnected with nutrition as thumbsucking, 
 
INTRODUCTION xxiii 
 
 various movements of the body as rubbing, boring, 
 pulling and other manifestations of a definite interest in 
 its own body, a delight in nakedness, the pleasure ex- 
 hibited in inflicting pain on some object and its opposite, 
 the pleasure from receiving pain. All of these afford the 
 child pleasure and satisfaction, and because they seem 
 analogous to certain perversions in adults they are called 
 by Freud the " polymorphous perverse sexuality " of 
 childhood. The character of these instinctive actions 
 which have nothing to do with any other person, and 
 through which the child attains pleasure from its own 
 body, caused Freud to term this phase of life as auto- 
 erotic after Havelock Ellis. However, with the growth 
 of the child there is a parallel development of the psychic 
 elements of its sexual nature and now the mother, the 
 original object of its love, primarily determined by its 
 helplessness and need, acquires a new valuation. The 
 beginnings of the need for a love object to satisfy the 
 craving or libido of the child are early in evidence and, 
 following along sex lines in general, the little son prefers 
 the mother and the daughter the father after the usual 
 preference of the parents. 
 
 At this early time children feel deeply the enormous 
 importance of their parents and their entire world is 
 bounded by the family circle. All the elements of the 
 ego which the child possesses have now become manifest; 
 love, jealousy, curiosity, hate, etc., and those instincts 
 are directed in the greatest degree towards the objects 
 of their libido, namely the parents. With the growing 
 ego of the child there is a development of strong wishes 
 
xxlv INTRODUCTION 
 
 and desires demanding satisfaction which can only be 
 gratified by the mother; therefore there is aroused in 
 the small son the feeling of jealousy and anger towards 
 the father in whom he sees a rival for the affection of 
 the mother and whom he would like to replace. This 
 desire in the soul of the child Freud calls the Oedipus 
 complex in recognition of its analogy to the tragedy 
 of King Oedipus who was drawn by his fate to kill his 
 father and win his mother for a wife. Freud presents 
 this as the nuclear complex of every neurosis. 
 
 At the basis of this complex, some trace of which can 
 be found in every person, Freud sees a definite incest wish 
 towards the mother which only lacks the quality of con- 
 sciousness. Because of moral reactions this wish is 
 quickly subjected to repression through the operation of 
 the " incest barrier," a postulate he compares to the incest 
 taboo found among inferior peoples. At this time the 
 child is beginning to develop its typical sexual curiosity 
 expressed by the question, "Where do I come from?" 
 The interest and investigation of the child into this prob- 
 lem, aided by observations and deductions from various 
 actions and attitudes of the parents, who have no idea 
 of the watchfulness of the child, lead him, because of his 
 imperfect knowledge and immature development, into 
 many false theories and ideas of birth. These infantile 
 sexual theories are held by Freud to be determinative in 
 the development of the child's character and also for the 
 contents of the unconscious as expressed in a future 
 neurosis. 
 
 These various reactions of the child and his sexual curi- 
 
INTRODUCTION xxv 
 
 osity are entirely normal and unavoidable, and if his 
 development proceeds in an orderly fashion then, at the 
 time of definite object choice he will pass smoothly over 
 from the limitations of the family attachment out into 
 the world and find therein his independent existence. 
 
 However, if the libido remains fixed on the first chosen 
 object so that the growing individual is unable to tear 
 himself loose from these familial ties, then the incestuous 
 bond is deepened with the developing sexual instinct and 
 its accompanying need of a love object, and the entire 
 future of the young personality endangered. For with 
 the development of the incestuous bond the natural re- 
 pressions deepen because the moral censor cannot allow 
 these disturbing relations to become clear to the individ- 
 ual. Therefore, the whole matter is repressed more 
 deeply into the unconscious, and even a feeling of posi- 
 tive enmity and repulsion towards the parents is often 
 developed in order to conceal and over-compensate for 
 the impossible situation actually present. 
 
 This persistence of the attachment of the libido to the 
 original object, and the inability to find in this a suitable 
 satisfaction for the adult need, interferes with the normal 
 development of the psycho-sexual character, and it is due 
 to this that the adult retains that " infantilism of sexual- 
 ity " which plays so great a role in determining the in- 
 stability of the emotional life which so frequently leads 
 into the definite neuroses. 
 
 These were the conclusions reached and the ground on 
 which Freudian psychology rested, regarding the etiology 
 
xxvi INTRODUCTION 
 
 of the neurosis, and the tendencies underlying normal 
 human mechanisms, when Dr. Carl Jung, the most promi- 
 nent of Freud's disciples, and the leader of the Zurich 
 school, found himself no longer able to agree with 
 Freud's findings in certain particulars, although the 
 phenomena which Freud observed and the technique of 
 psychoanalysis developed by Freud were the material on 
 which Jung worked and the value of which he clearly 
 emphasizes. The differences which have developed lay 
 in his understanding and interpretation of the phenomena 
 observed. 
 
 Beginning with the conception of libido itself as a 
 term used to connote sexual hunger and craving, albeit 
 the meaning of the word sexual was extended by Freud 
 to embrace a much wider significance than common usage 
 has assigned it, Jung was unable to confine himself to 
 this limitation. He conceived this longing, this urge or 
 push of life as something extending beyond sexuality even 
 in its wider sense. He saw in the term libido a concept 
 of unknown nature, comparable to Bergson's elan vital, 
 a hypothetical energy of life, which occupies itself not 
 only in sexuality but in various physiological and psycho- 
 logical manifestations such as growth, development, 
 hunger, and all the human activities and interests. This 
 cosmic energy or urge manifested in the human being he 
 calls libido and compares it with the energy of physics. 
 Although recognizing, in common with Freud as well as 
 with many others, the primal instinct of reproduction as 
 the basis of many functions and present-day activities of 
 mankind no longer sexual in character he repudiates the 
 
INTRODUCTION xxvii 
 
 idea of still calling them sexual, even though their de- 
 velopment was a growth originally out of the sexual. 
 Sexuality and its various manifestations Jung sees as most 
 important channels occupied by libido, but not the ex- 
 clusive ones through which libido flows. 
 
 This is an energic concept of life; and from this view- 
 point this hypothetical energy of life or libido is a living 
 power used instinctively by man in all the automatic 
 processes of his functioning; such very processes being 
 but different manifestations of this energy. By virtue 
 of its quality of mobility and change man, through his 
 understanding and intelligence, has the power consciously 
 to direct and use his libido in definite and desired ways. 
 
 In this conception of Jung Vv'ill be seen an analogy to 
 Bergson, who speaks of " this change, this movement and 
 becoming, this self-creation, call it what you will, as the 
 very stuff and reality of our being." * 
 
 In developing the energic conception of libido and 
 separating it from Freud's sexual definition, Jung makes 
 possible the explanation of interest in general, and pro- 
 vides a working concept by which not only the specifically 
 sexual, but the g'eneral activities and reactions of man can 
 be understood. 
 
 If a person complains of no longer having interest in 
 his work or of losing interest in his surroundings, then one 
 understands that his libido is withdrawn from this object 
 and that in consequence the object itself seems no longer 
 attractive, whereas, as a matter of fact, the object itself 
 is exactly the same as formerly. In other words, it is 
 
 * " Creative Evolution." 
 
xxviii INTRODUCTION 
 
 the libido that we bestow upon an object that makes It 
 attractive and interesting. 
 
 The causes for the withdrawal of libido may be various 
 and are usually quite different from those that the persons 
 offer in explanation. It is the task of psychoanalysis to 
 discover the real reasons, which are usually hidden and 
 unknown. On the other hand, when an Individual ex- 
 hibits an exaggerated interest or places an over-emphasis 
 upon an idea or situation, then we know there is too much 
 libido here and that we may find as a consequence a corre- 
 sponding depletion elsewhere. 
 
 This leads directly Into the second point of difference 
 between Jung's views and those of Freud. This Is con- 
 cerned with those practically universal childish mani- 
 festations of sexuality called by Freud " polymorphous 
 perverse " because of their similarity to those abnormal- 
 ities of sexuality which occur in adults and are called 
 perversions. 
 
 Jung takes exception to this viewpoint. He sees In the 
 various manifestations of childhood the precursors or 
 forerunners of the later fully developed sexuality, and 
 Instead of considering them perverse he considers them 
 preliminary expressions of sexual coloring. He divides 
 human life into three stages. The first stage up to about 
 the third or fourth year, generally speaking, he calls the 
 presexual stage, for there he sees the libido or life 
 energy occupied chiefly in the functions of nutrition and 
 growth, and he draws an analogy between this period and 
 that of the caterpillar stage of the butterfly. 
 
 The second stage includes the years from this time 
 
INTRODUCTION xxix 
 
 until puberty, and this he speaks of as the prepubertal 
 stage. 
 
 The third period is that from puberty onward and can 
 be considered the time of maturity. 
 
 It is in the earhest stage, the period of which varies 
 greatly in different individuals, that are fully inaugurated 
 those various manifestations which have so marked a 
 sexual coloring that there can be no question of their 
 relationship, although at that time sexuaHty in the adult 
 meaning of the word does not exist. 
 
 Jung explains the polymorphism of these phenomena 
 as arising from a gradual movement of the libido from 
 exclusive service in the function of nutrition into new 
 avenues which successively open up with the development 
 of the child until the final inauguration of the sexual func- 
 tion proper at puberty. Normally these childish bad 
 habits are gradually relinquished until the libido is en- 
 tirely withdrawn from these immature phases and with 
 the ushering in of puberty for the first time " appears in 
 the form of an undifferentiated sexual primitive power, 
 clearly forcing the individual towards division, budding, 
 etc." 
 
 However, if in the course of its movement from the 
 function of nutrition to the sexual function the libido is 
 arrested or retarded at any phase, then a fixation may 
 result, creating a disturbance in the harmony of the 
 normal development. For, although the libido is re- 
 tarded and remains clinging to some childish manifesta- 
 tion, time goes on and the physical growth of the child 
 does not stand still. Soon a great contrast is created 
 
XXX INTRODUCTION 
 
 between the infantile manifestations of the emotional 
 life and the needs of the more adult individual, and the 
 foundation is thus prepared for either the development 
 of a definite neurosis or else for those weaknesses of 
 character or symptomatic disturbances which are not 
 sufficiently serious to be called a neurosis. 
 
 One of the most active and important forms of childish 
 libido occupation is in phantasy making. The child's 
 world is one of imagery and make-believe where he can 
 create for himself that satisfaction and enjoyment which 
 the world of reality so often denies. As the child grows 
 and real demands of life are made upon him it becomes 
 increasingly necessary that his libido be taken away from 
 his phantastic world and used for the required adaptation 
 to reality needed by his age and condition, until finally 
 for the adult the freedom of the whole libido is necessary 
 to meet the biological and cultural demands of life. 
 
 Instead of thus employing the libido in the real world, 
 however, certain people never relinquish the seeking for 
 satisfaction in the shadowy world of phantasy and even 
 though they make certain attempts at adaptation they 
 are halted and discouraged by every difficulty and ob- 
 stacle in the path of life and are easily pulled back into 
 their inner psychic world. This condition is called a 
 state of introversion. It is concerned with the past and 
 the reminiscences which belong thereto. Situations and 
 experiences which should have been completed and fin- 
 ished long ago are still dwelt upon and lived with. 
 Images and matters which were once important but which 
 normally have no significance for their later age are still 
 
INTRODUCTION xxxi 
 
 actively Influencing their present lives. The nature and 
 character of these phantasy products are legion, and are 
 easily recognized in the emotional attitudes and preten- 
 sions, the childish Illusions and exaggerations, the preju- 
 dices and Inconsistencies which people express in mani- 
 fold forms. The actual situation is inadequately faced; 
 small matters are reacted towards In an exaggerated 
 manner; or else a frivolous attitude Is maintained where 
 real seriousness is demanded. In other words, there Is 
 clearly manifested an inadequate psychic adaptation to- 
 wards reality which is quite to be expected from the 
 child, but which Is very discordant In the adult. 
 
 The most important of these past influences is that of 
 the parents. Because they are the first objects of the 
 developing childish love, and afford the first satisfaction 
 and pleasure to the child, they become the models for all 
 succeeding efforts, as Freud has worked out. This he 
 called the nuclear or root complex because this Influence 
 was so powerful it seemed to be the determining factor 
 In all later difficulties in the life of the Individual. 
 
 In this phase of the problem lies the third great dif- 
 ference between Jung's Interpretation of the observed 
 phenomena and that of Freud. 
 
 Jung definitely recognizes that there are many neurotic 
 persons who clearly exhibited In their childhood the same 
 neurotic tendencies that are later exaggerated. Also that 
 an almost overwhelming effect on the destiny of these 
 children is exercised by the influence of the parents, the 
 frequent over-anxiety or tenderness, the lack of sympathy 
 or understanding, in other words, the complexes of the 
 
xxxii INTRODUCTION 
 
 parent reacting upon the child and producing in him love, 
 admiration, fear, distrust, hate, revolt. The greater the 
 sensitiveness and impressionability of the child, the more 
 he will be stamped with the familial environment, and 
 the more he will unconsciously seek to find again in the 
 world of reality the model of his own small world with 
 all the pleasures and satisfactions, or disappointments 
 and unhappinesses with which it was filled. 
 
 This condition to be sure is not a recognized or a 
 conscious one, for the individual may think himself per- 
 fectly free from this past influence because he is living in 
 the real world, and because actually there is a great dif- 
 ference between the present conditions and that of his 
 childish past. He sees all this, intellectually, but there is 
 a wide gap between the intellectual grasp of a situation 
 and the emotional development, and it is the latter 
 realm wherein lies the disharmony. However, although 
 many ideas and feelings are connected with the parents, 
 analysis reveals very often that they are only subjective 
 and that in reality they bear httle resemblance to the actual 
 past situation. Therefore, Jung speaks no longer of the 
 real father and mother but uses the term imago or image 
 to represent the father or mother, because the feelings 
 and phantasies frequently do not deal with the real 
 parents but with the distorted and subjective image 
 created by the imagination of the Individual. 
 
 Following this distinction Jung sees in the Oedipus 
 complex of Freud only a symbol for the " childish de- 
 sire towards the parents and for the conflict which this 
 craving evokes," and cannot accept the theory that in this 
 
INTRODUCTION xxxiii 
 
 early stage of childhood the mother has any real sexual 
 significance for the child. 
 
 The demands of the child upon the mother, the 
 jealousy so often exhibited, are at first connected with 
 the role of the mother as protector, caretaker and sup- 
 plier of nutritive wants, and only later, with the germinat- 
 ing eroticism, does the child's love become admixed with 
 the developing sexual quality. The chief love objects are 
 still the parents and he naturally continues to seek and 
 to find in them satisfaction for all his desires. In this 
 way the typical conflict is developed which in the son is 
 directed towards the father and in the daughter towards 
 the mother. This jealousy of the daughter towards the 
 mother is called the Electra complex from the myth of 
 Electra who took revenge on her mother for the murder 
 of the husband because she was in this way deprived of 
 her father. 
 
 Normally as puberty is attained the child gradually 
 becomes more or less freed from his parents, and upon 
 the degree in which this is accomplished depends his 
 health and future well-being. 
 
 This demand of nature upon the young individual to 
 free himself from the bonds of his childish dependency 
 and to find in the world of reality his independent exist- 
 ence is so imperious and dominating that it frequently 
 produces in the child the greatest struggles and severest 
 conflicts, the period being characterized symbolically as a 
 self-sacrifice by Jung. 
 
 It frequently happens that the young person is so 
 closely bound in the family relations that it is only with 
 
xxxiv INTRODUCTION 
 
 the greatest difficulty that he can attain any measure of 
 freedom and then only very imperfectly, so that the libido 
 sexualis can only express itself in certain feelings and 
 phantasies which clearly reveal the existence of the com- 
 plex until then entirely hidden and unrealized. Now 
 commences the secondary struggle against the unfilial and 
 immoral feelings with a consequent development of 
 intense resistances expressing themselves in irritation, 
 anger, revolt and antagonism against the parents, or else 
 in an especially tender, submissive and yielding attitude 
 which over-compensates for the rebellion and reaction 
 held within. 
 
 This struggle and conflict gives rise to the unconscious 
 phantasy of self-sacrifice which really means the sacri- 
 ficing of the childish tendencies and love type in order to 
 free libido; for his nature demands that he attain the 
 capacity for the accomplishment of his own personal 
 fulfilment, the satisfaction of which belongs to the de- 
 veloped man and woman. 
 
 This conception has been worked out in detail by 
 Jung in the book which is herein presented to English 
 readers. 
 
 We now come to the most important of Jung's con- 
 ceptions in that it bears practically upon the treatment 
 of certain types of the neuroses and stands theoretically ! 
 in direct opposition to Freud's hypothesis. While recog- 
 nizing fully the influence of the parents and of the sexual 
 constitution of the child, Jung refuses to see in this in- 
 fantile past the real cause for the later development of 
 the illness. He definitely places the cause of the patho- 
 
INTRODUCTION xxxv 
 
 genie conflict in the present moment and considers that in 
 seeking for the cause in the distant past one is only fol- 
 lowing the desire of the patient, which is to withdraw 
 himself as much as possible from the present important 
 period. 
 
 The conflict is produced by some important task or 
 duty w^hich is essential biologically and practically for the 
 fullilment of the ego of the individual, but before which 
 an obstacle arises from which he shrinks, and thus halted 
 cannot go on. With this interference in the path of 
 progression libido is stored up and a regression takes 
 place whereby there occurs a reanimation of past ways 
 of libido occupation which were entirely normal to the 
 child, but which for the adult are no longer of value. 
 These regressive infantile desires and phantasies now 
 alive and striving for satisfaction are converted into 
 symptoms, and in these surrogate forms obtain a certain 
 gratification, thus creating the external manifestations of 
 the neurosis. Therefore Jung does not ask from what 
 psychic experience or point of fixation in childhood the 
 patient is suffering, but what is the present duty or task 
 he is avoiding, or what obstacle in his life's path he is 
 unable to overcome? What is the cause of his regression 
 to past psychic experiences? 
 
 Following this theory Jung expresses the view that the 
 elaborate phantasies and dreams produced by these pa- 
 tients arc really forms of compensation or artificial sub- 
 stitutes for the unfulfilled adaptation to reality. The 
 sexual content of these phantasies and dreams is only 
 apparently and not actually expressive of a real sexual 
 
xxxvi INTRODUCTION 
 
 desire or incest wish, but is a regressive employment of 
 sexual forms to symbolically express a present-day need 
 when the attainment of the present ego demand seems 
 too difficult or impossible, and no adaptation is made to 
 what is possible for the individual's capability.* 
 
 With this statement Jung throws a new light on the 
 work of analytic psychology and on the conception of 
 the neurotic symptoms, and renders possible of under- 
 standing the many apparent incongruities and conflicting 
 observations which have been so disturbing to the critics. 
 
 It now becomes proper to ask what has been estab- 
 lished by all this mass of investigation into the soul, and 
 what is its value not only as a therapeutic measure for 
 the neurotic sufferer, but also for the normal human 
 being? 
 
 First and perhaps most important is the recognition of 
 a definite psychological determinism. Instead of human 
 life being filled with foolish, meaningless or purposeless 
 actions, errors and thoughts, it can be demonstrated that 
 no expression or manifestation of the psyche, however 
 trifling or inconsistent in appearance, is really lawless or 
 unmotivated. Only a possession of the technique is neces- 
 sary in order to reveal, to any one desirous of knowing, 
 the existence of the unconscious determinants of his man- 
 nerisms, trivial expressions, acts and behavior, their 
 purpose and significance. 
 
 * For a more complete presentation of Jung's views consult his 
 " Theory of Psychoanalysis " in the Nervous and Mental Disease Mono- 
 graph Series, No. 19. 
 
INTRODUCTION xxxvii 
 
 Thts leads into the second fundamental conception, 
 which is perhaps even less considered than the foregoing, 
 and that is the relative value of the conscious mind and 
 thought. It is the general attitude of people to judge 
 themselves by their surface motives, to satisfy themselves 
 by saying or thinking " this is what I want to do or say " 
 or " I intended to do thus and so," but somehow what 
 one thought, one intended to say or expected to do is very 
 often the contrary of what actually is said or done. 
 Every one has had these experiences when the gap be- 
 tween the conscious thought and action was gross enough 
 to be observed. It is also a well known experience to 
 consciously desire something very much and when it is 
 obtained to discover that this in no wise satisfied or 
 lessened the desire, which was then transferred to some 
 other object. Thus one became cognizant of the fact 
 that the feeling and idea presented by consciousness as 
 the desire was an error. What is the difficulty in these 
 conditions? Evidently some other directing force than 
 that of which we are aware is at work. 
 
 Dr. G. Stanley Hall uses a very striking symbol when 
 he compares the mind to an iceberg floating in the ocean 
 with one-eighth visible above the water and seven-eighths 
 below — the one-eighth above being that part called con- 
 scious and the seven-eighths below that which we call the 
 unconscious. The influence and controlling power of the 
 unconscious desires over our thoughts and acts are in this 
 relative proportion. Faint glimmers of other motives 
 and interests than those we accept or which we believe, 
 often flit into consciousness. These indications, if studied 
 
xxxviii INTRODUCTION 
 
 or valued accurately, would lead to the realization that 
 consciousness is but a single stage and but one form of 
 expression of mind. Therefore its dictum is but one, 
 often untrustworthy, approach to the great question as 
 to what is man's actual psychic accomplishment, and as 
 to what in particular is the actual soul development of 
 the individual. 
 
 A further contribution of equal importance has been 
 the empiric development of a dynamic theory of life; the 
 conception that life is in a state of flux — movement — lead- 
 ing either to construction or destruction. Through the 
 development man has reached he has attained the power 
 by means of his intelligence and understanding of defi- 
 nitely directing to a certain extent this life energy or 
 libido Into avenues which serve his interest and bring a 
 real satisfaction for the present day. 
 
 When man through ignorance and certain inherent 
 tendencies fails to recognize his needs or his power to 
 fulfil them, or to adapt himself to the conditions of reality 
 of the present time, there is then produced that reanima- 
 tion of infantile paths by which an attempt is made to 
 gain fulfilment or satisfaction through the production of 
 symptoms or attitudes. 
 
 The acceptance of these statements demands the recog- 
 nition of the existence of an infantile sexuality and the 
 large part played by it in the later life of the individual. 
 Because of the power and imperious influence exerted by 
 the parents upon the child, and because of the unconscious 
 attachment of his libido to the original object, the mother, 
 and the perseverance of this first love model in tht 
 
INTRODUCTION xxxix 
 
 psyche, he finds it very difficult, on reaching the stage 
 of adult development and the time for seeking a love 
 object outside of the family, to gain a satisfactory model. 
 
 It is exceedingly important for parents and teachers 
 to recognize the requirements of nature, which, beginning 
 with puberty, imperiously demand of the young indi- 
 vidual a separation of himself from the parent stem and 
 the development of an independent existence. In our 
 complex modern civilization this demand of nature is 
 difficult enough of achievement for the child who has the 
 heartiest and most intelligent co-operation of his parents 
 and environment — but for the one who has not only to 
 contend with his own inner struggle for his freedom 
 but has in addition the resistance of his parents who 
 would hold him in his childhood at any cost, because they 
 cannot endure the thought of his separation from them, 
 the task becomes one of the greatest magnitude. It is 
 during this period when the struggle between the childish 
 inertia and nature's urge becomes so keen, that there occur 
 the striking manifestations of jealousy, criticism, irritabil- 
 ity all usually directed against the parents, of defiance 
 of parental authority, of runaways and various other 
 psychic and nervous disorders known to all. 
 
 This struggle, which is the first great task of mankind 
 and the one which requires the greatest effort, is that 
 which is expressed by Jung as the self-sacrifice motive — 
 the sacrifice of the childish feelings and demands, and of 
 the irresponsibility of this period, and the assumption of 
 the duties and tasks of an individual existence. 
 
 It is this great theme which Jung sees as the real 
 
xl INTRODUCTION 
 
 motive lying hidden in the myths and religions of man 
 from the beginning, as well as in the literature and 
 artistic creations of both ancient and modern time, 
 and which he works out with the greatest wealth of 
 detail and painstaking effort in the book herewith pre- 
 sented. 
 
 This necessitates a recognition and revaluation of the 
 enormous importance and influence of the ego and the 
 sexual instinct upon the thought and reaction of man, 
 and also predicates a displacement of the psychological 
 point of gravity from the will and intellect to the realm 
 of the emotions and feelings. The desired end is a 
 synthesis of these two paths or the use of the intellect 
 constructively in the service of the emotions in order to 
 gain for the best interest of the individual some sort of 
 co-operative reaction between the two. 
 
 No one dealing with analytic psychology can fail to 
 be struck by the tremendous and unnecessary burdens 
 which man has placed upon himself, and how greatly 
 he has increased the difficulties of adaptation by his rigid 
 intellectual views and moral formulas, and by his inability 
 to admit to himself that he is actually just a human being 
 imperfect, and containing within himself all manner of 
 tendencies, good and bad, all striving for some satisfac- 
 tory goal. Further, that the refusal to see himself in 
 this light instead of as an ideal person in no way alters 
 the actual condition, and that in fact, through the cheap 
 pretense of being able only to consider himself as a very 
 virtuous person, or as shocked and hurt when observing 
 the " sins '' of others, he actually is prevented from de- 
 
INTRODUCTION xli 
 
 veloping his own character and bringing his own capac- 
 ities to their fullest expressions. 
 
 There is frequently expressed among people the idea 
 of how fortunate it is that we cannot see each other's 
 thoughts, and how disturbing it would be if our real 
 feelings could be read. But what is so shameful in these 
 secrets of the soul? They are in reality our own egoistic 
 desires all striving, longing, wishing for satisfaction, for 
 happiness; those desires which instinctively crave their 
 own gratification but which can only be really fulfilled by 
 adapting them to the real world and to the social group. 
 
 Why is it that it is so painful for man to admit that 
 the prime influence in all human endeavor is found in the 
 ego itself, in its desires, wishes, needs and satisfactions, 
 in short, in its need for self-expression and self-perpetua- 
 tion, the evolutionary impetus in life? 
 
 The basis for the unpleasantness of this idea may per- 
 haps be found in an inner resistance in nature itself which 
 forces man to include others in his scheme, lest his own 
 greedy desires should serve to destroy him. But even 
 with this inner demand and all the ethical and moral 
 teachings of centuries it is everywhere evident that man 
 has only very imperfectly learned that it is to his own 
 interest to consider his neighbor and that it is impossible 
 for him to ignore the needs of the body social of which 
 he is a part. Externally, the recognition of the strength 
 of the ego impulse is objectionable because of the ideal 
 conception that self-striving and so-called selfish seeking 
 are unworthy, ignoble and incompatible with a desirable 
 character and must be ignored at all cost. 
 
xlii INTRODUCTION 
 
 The futility of this attitude is to be clearly seen in the 
 failure after all these centuries to even approximate it, 
 as evidenced in our human relations and institutions, and 
 is quite as ineffectual in this realm as in that of sexuality 
 where the effort to overcome this imperious domination 
 has been attempted by lowering the instinct, and seeing 
 in it something vile or unclean, something unspeakable 
 and unholy. Instead of destroying the power of sexuality 
 this struggle has only warped and distorted, injured and 
 mutilated the expression; for not without destruction of 
 the Individual can these fundamental Instincts be de- 
 stroyed. Life itself has needs and imperiously demands 
 expression through the forms created. All nature 
 answers to this freely and simply except man. His fail- 
 ure to recognize himself as an instrument through which 
 the life energy is coursing and the demands of which 
 must be obeyed, is the cause of his misery. Despite his 
 possession of intellect and self-consciousness, he cannot 
 without disaster to himself refuse the tasks of life and 
 the fulfilment of his own needs. Man's great task is 
 the adaptation of himself to reality and the recognition 
 of himself as an instrument for the expression of life 
 according to his individual possibilities. 
 
 It is in his privilege as a self-creator that his highest 
 purpose is found. 
 
 The value of self-consciousness lies in the fact that 
 man is enabled to reflect upon himself and learn to under- 
 stand the true origin and significance of his actions and 
 opinions, that he may adequately value the real level of 
 his development and avoid being self-deceived and there- 
 
INTRODUCTION xliii 
 
 fore inhibited from finding his biological adaptation. He 
 need no longer be unconscious of the motives underlying 
 his actions or hide himself behind a changed exterior, 
 in other words, be merely a series of reactions to stimuli 
 as the mechanists have it, but he may to a certain extent 
 become a self-creating and self-determining being. 
 
 Indeed, there seems to be an impulse towards adapta- 
 tion quite as Bergson sees it, and it would seem to be a 
 task of the highest order to use intelligence to assist one's 
 self to work with this impulse. 
 
 Through the investigation of these different avenues 
 
 leading into the hidden depths of the human being and 
 
 : through the revelation of the motives and influences at 
 
 I work there, although astonishing to the uninitiated, a 
 
 very clear and definite conception of the actual human 
 
 relationship — brotherhood — of all mankind is obtained. 
 
 il It is this recognition of these common factors basically 
 
 inherent in humanity from the beginning and still active, 
 
 I which is at once both the most hopeful and the most 
 
 i 
 
 : feared and disliked part of psychoanalysis. 
 
 ! It is disliked by those individuals who have prided 
 
 I themselves upon their superiority and the distinction be- 
 
 itween their reactions and motives and those of ordinary 
 mankind. In other words, they attempt to become per- 
 sonalities through elevating themselves and lowering 
 others, and it is a distinct blow to discover that beneath 
 these pretensions lie the very ordinary elements shared 
 in common by all. On the other hand, to those who have 
 been able to recognize their own weaknesses and have 
 
xliv INTRODUCTION 
 
 suffered in the privacy of their own souls, the knowledge 
 that these things have not set them apart from others, 
 but that they are the common property of all and that 
 no one can point the finger of scorn at his fellow, is one 
 of the greatest experiences of life and is productive 
 of the greatest relief. 
 
 It Is feared by many who realize that in these painfully 
 acquired repressions and symptoms lie their safety and 
 their protection from directly facing and dealing with 
 tendencies and characteristics with which they feel unable 
 to cope. The repression and the accompanying symptoms 
 indicate a difficulty and a struggle, and in this way are 
 a sort of compromise or substitute formation which 
 permit, although only in a wasteful and futile manner, 
 the activity of the repressed tendencies. Nevertheless, 
 to analyze the Individual back to his original tendencies 
 and reveal to him the meaning of these substitute forma- 
 tions would be a useless procedure in which truly " the 
 last state of that man would be worse than the first " 
 if the work ceased there. The aim is not to destroy 
 those barriers upon which civilized man has so painfully 
 climbed and to reduce him to his primitive state, but, 
 where these have failed or Imperfectly succeeded, to help 
 him to attain his greatest possibilities with less expendi- 
 ture of energy, by less wasteful methods than nature 
 provides. In this achievement lies the hopeful and valu- 
 able side of this method — the development of the syn- 
 thesis. It is hopeful because now a way is opened to 
 deal with these primitive tendencies constructively, and 
 render their effects not only harmless but useful, by 
 
INTRODUCTION xlv 
 
 utilizing them in higher aims, socially and individually 
 valuable and satisfactory. 
 
 This is what has occurred normally in those individuals 
 who seem capable and constructive personalities; in those 
 creative minds that give so much to the race. They have 
 converted certain psychological tendencies which could 
 have produced useless symptoms or destructive actions 
 into valuable productions. Indeed it is not uncommon 
 for strong, capable persons to state themselves that they 
 knew they could have been equally capable of a wasteful 
 or destructive life. This utilization of the energy or 
 libido freed by removing the repressions and the lifting 
 of infantile tendencies and desires into higher purposes 
 and directions suitable for the individual at his present 
 status is called sublimation. 
 
 It must not be understood by this discussion that 
 geniuses or wonderful personalities can be created 
 through analysis, for this is not the aim of the procedure. 
 Its purpose is to remove the inhibitions and restrictions 
 which interfere with the full development of the per- 
 sonality, to help individuals attain to that level where 
 they really belong, and to prepare people to better under- 
 stand and meet life whether they are neurotic sufferers 
 or so-called " normal people " with the difficulties and 
 peculiarities which belong to all. 
 
 This reasoning and method of procedure is only new 
 when the application is made to the human being. In 
 all improvements of plants and animals these general 
 principles have been recognized and their teachings con- 
 structively utilized. 
 
xlvi INTRODUCTION 
 
 Luther Burbank, that plant wizard whose work is 
 known to all the world, says, " A knowledge of the battle 
 of the tendencies within a plant is the very basis of all 
 plant improvement," and " it is not that the work of plant 
 improvement brings with it, incidentally, as people mis- 
 takenly think, a knowledge of these forces, it is the knowl- 
 edge of these forces, rather, which makes plant improve- 
 ment possible." 
 
 Has this not been also the mistake of man regarding 
 himself, and the cause, partly at least, of his failure to 
 succeed in actually reaching a more advanced and stable 
 development? 
 
 This recognition of man's biological relationship to 
 all life and the practical utilization of this recognition, 
 necessitates a readjustment of thought and asks for an 
 examination and reconsideration of the facts of human 
 conduct which are observable by any thoughtful person. 
 A quiet and progressive upheaval of old ideas has taken 
 place and is still going on. Analytic psychology attempts 
 to unify and value all of the various phenomena of man 
 which have been observed and noted at different times 
 by isolated investigators of isolated manifestations and 
 thus bring some orderly sequence into the whole. It 
 offers a method Vvhereby the relations of the human being 
 biologically to all other living forms can be established, 
 the actual achievement of man himself adequately valued, 
 and opens a vista of the possibilities of improvement in 
 health, happiness and accomplishment for the human 
 being. 
 
 Beatrice M. Hinkle. 
 
 lo Gramercy Park. 
 
AUTHOR'S NOTE 
 
 My task in this work has been to investigate an indi- 
 vidual phantasy system, and in the doing of it problems 
 of such magnitude have been uncovered, that my en- 
 deavor to grasp them in their entirety has necessarily 
 meant only a superficial orientation toward those paths, 
 the opening and exploration of which may possibly 
 crown the work of future investigators with success. 
 
 I am not in sympathy with the attitude which favors 
 the repression of certain possible working hypotheses 
 because they are perhaps erroneous, and so may possess 
 no lasting value. Certainly I endeavored as far as pos- 
 sible to guard myself from error, which might indeed 
 become especially dangerous upon these dizzy heights, 
 for I am entirely aware of the risks of these investiga- 
 tions. However, I do not consider scientific work as a 
 dogmatic contest, but rather as a work done for the in- 
 crease and deepening of knowledge. 
 
 This contribution is addressed to those having similar 
 ideas concerning science. 
 
 In conclusion, I must render thanks to those who have 
 
 assisted my endeavors with valuable aid, especially my 
 
 dear wife and my friends, to whose disinterested assist' 
 
 ance I am deeply indebted. 
 
 C. G. Jung. 
 
 Zurich. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 AUTHOR'S NOTE xlvii 
 
 PART I 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 INTRODUCTION x 
 
 Relation of the Incest Phantasy to the Oedipus Legend — 
 Moral revulsion over such a discovery — The unity of the 
 antique and modern psychology — Followers of Freud in this 
 field — The need of analyzing historical material in rela- 
 tion to individual analysis. 
 
 I.— CONCERNING THE TWO KINDS OF THINKING . . g 
 
 Antiquity of the bel ief in dream s — Dream-meanings psycho- 
 logical, not literal — They concern wish-fulfilments — A 
 typical dream: the sexual assault — What is symbolic in our 
 everyday thinking? — One kind of thinking: intensive and 
 deliberate, or directed — Directed thinking and thinking in 
 words — Origin of speech in primitive nature sounds — The 
 evolution of speech — Directed thinking a modern acquisition 
 — Thinking, not directed, a thinking in images: akin to 
 dreaming — Two kinds of thinking: directed and dream or 
 phantasy thinking — Science an expression of directed thinking 
 — The discipline of scholasticism as a forerunner — Antique 
 spirit created not science but mythology — Their world of 
 subjective phantasies similar to that we find in the child- 
 mind of to-day; or in the savage — The dream shows a simi- 
 lar type — Infantile thinking and dreams a re-echo of the 
 prehistoric and the ancient — The myths a mass-dream of 
 the people: the dream the myth of the individual — Phantastic 
 thinking concerns wishes — Typical cases, showing kinship 
 with ancient myths — Psychology of man changes but slowly 
 — Phantastic thinking tells us of mythical or other material 
 of undeveloped and no longer recognized wish tendencies 
 in the soul — The sexual base — The wish, because of its 
 disturbing nature, expressed not directly, but symbolically. 
 
 II.— THE MILLER PHANTASIES 42 
 
 Miss Miller's unusual suggestibility — Identifying herself 
 with others — Examples of her autosuggestibility and sug- 
 gestive effect — Not striking in themselves, but from analytic 
 viewpoint they afford a glance into the soul of the writer — 
 Her phantasies really tell of the history of her love. 
 
 III.— THE HYMN OF CREATION 49 
 
 Miss Miller's description of a sea-journey — ^Really a de- 
 scription of " introversion " — A retreat from reality into 
 xlix 
 
1 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 herself — The return to the real world with erotic impres- 
 sion of officer singing in the night-watch — The undei- 
 valuing of such erotic impressions — Their often deep effect 
 — The succeeding dream, and poem — The denied erotic im- 
 pression usurps an earlier transference: it expresses itself 
 through the Father-Imago — Analysis of the poem — Relation 
 to Cyrano, Milton and Job — The attempt to escape the 
 problem by a religious and ethical pose — Contrast with real 
 religion — Escape from erotic by transference to a God or 
 Christ — This made effective by mutual transference: "Love 
 one another " — The erotic spiritualized, however — The inner 
 conflict kept conscious by this method — The modern, how- 
 ever, represses the conflict and so becomes neurotic — The 
 function of Christianity — Its biologic purpose fulfilled — Its 
 forms of thought and wisdom still available. 
 
 IV.— THE SONG OF THE MOTH 87 
 
 The double role of Faust: creator and destroyer — "I came 
 not to send peace, but a sword " — The modern problem of 
 choice between Scylla of world-renunciation and Charybdis 
 of world-acceptance — The ethical pose of The Hymn of 
 Creation having failed, the unconscious projects a new 
 attempt in the Moth-Song — The choice, as in Faust — The 
 longing for the sun (or God) the same as that for the 
 ship's officer — Not the object, however: the longing is im- 
 portant — God is our own longing to which we pay divine 
 honors — The failure to replace by a real compensation the 
 libido-object which is surrendered, produces regression to 
 an earlier and discarded object — A return to the infantile — 
 /The use of the parent image — It becomes synonymous with 
 I God, Sun, Fire — Sun and snake — Symbols of the libido 
 ^thered into the sun-symbol — The tendency toward unity 
 and toward multiplicity — One God with many attributes: 
 or many gods that are attributes of one — Phallus and sun — 
 The sun-hero, the well-beloved — Christ as sun-god — " Moth 
 and sun " then brings us to historic depths of the soul — 
 The sun-hero creative and destructive — Hence: Moth and 
 Flame: burning one's wings — The destructiveness of being 
 fruitful — Wherefore the neurotic withdraws from the con- 
 flict, committing a sort of self-murder — Comparison with 
 Byron's Heaven and Earth. 
 
 PART II 
 
 I.— ASPECTS OF THE LIBIDO 127 
 
 A backward glance — The sun the natural god — Compari- 
 son with libido — Libido, " sun-energy " — The sun-image as 
 seen by the mystic in introversion — The phallic symbol of 
 the libido — Faust's key — Mythical heroes with phallic at- 
 tributes — These heroes personifications of the human libido 
 and its tyoical fates — A definition of the word " libido " — 
 Its etymological context. 
 
CONTENTS H 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 II.— THE CONCEPTION AND THE GENETIC THEORY OF 
 
 LIBIDO 139 
 
 A widening of the conception of libido — New light from the 
 study of paranoia — The impossibility of restricting the con- 
 ception of libido to the sexual — A genetic definition — The 
 function of reality only partly sexual — Yet this, and other 
 functions, originally derivations from procreative impulse — 
 The process of transformation — Libido, and the conception ~l 
 of will in general — Examples in mythology — The stages of J 
 the libido: its desexualized derivatives and differentiations 
 — Sublimation vs. repression — Splittings off of the primal 
 libido — Application of genetic theory of libido to intro- 
 version psychoses — Replacing reality by archaic surrogates 
 — Desexualizing libido by means of phantastic analogy 
 formations — Possibly human consciousness brought to present 
 state in this manner — The importance of the little phrase: 
 " Even as." 
 
 III.— THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO. A POSSIBLE 
 
 SOURCE OF PRIMITIVE HUMAN DISCOVERIES . 157 
 
 An example of transition of the libido — Act of boring with 
 forefinger: an infantile presexual activity — Similar activities 
 in patient's early childhood — Outcome in dementia prascox — 
 Its phantasies related to mythological products: a reproduc- 
 tion of the creations of antiquity — The freeing of libido 
 from the nutritive to enter the sexual function — The epoch 
 of suckling and the epoch of displaced rhythmic activity — 
 These followed by the beginnings of onanistic attempts — 
 An obstacle in the sexual zone produces regression to a 
 previous mode — These regressions easier in earlier stages of 
 humanity than now — The ethnological phantasy of boring — 
 Examples — The production of fire — Its sexual significance — 
 A substitute for coitus — The invention of fire-making then 
 due to the need of supplying a symbol for the sexual act — 
 The psychological compulsion for such transitions of the 
 libido based on an original division of the will — Regres- 
 sion to incestuous — Prohibition here sends incestuous com- 
 ponent of libido back to pre-sexual — Character of its ap- 
 plication here — The substitution of Mother-Earth for the 
 parent — Also of infantile boring — Leading then to discovery 
 of fire — An example in Hindoo literature — The sexual' 
 significance of the mouth — Its other function: the mating call 
 — The regression which produced fire through boring also 
 elaborated the mating call — The beginnings of speech — 
 Example from the Hindoo — Speech and fire the firstfruits 
 of transformation of libido — The fire-preparation regarded 
 as forbidden, as robbery — The forbidden thing onanism — 
 Onanism a cheating of sexuality of its purpose — The cere- 
 monial fire-production a substitute for the possibility of 
 onanistic regression — Thus a transformation of libido 
 ensues. 
 
L 
 
 Hi CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PACE 
 
 IV.— THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO . . . 191 
 
 The cause of introversion — The forward and backward 
 flow of the libido — The abnormal third — The conflict rooted 
 in the incest problem — The " terrible mother " — Miss Miller's 
 introversion — An internal conflict — Its product of hypna- 
 gogic vision and poem — The uniformity of the unconscious in 
 all men — The unconscious the object of a true psycliology — 
 The individual tendency with its production of the hero 
 cult — The love for the hero or god a love for the uncon- 
 scious — A turning back to the mother of humanity — Such 
 regressions act favorably within limits — Miss Miller's men- 
 tion of the Sphinx — Theriomorphic representations of the 
 libido — Their tendency to represent father and mother — 
 The Sphinx represents the fear of the mother — Miss 
 Miller's mention of the Aztec — Analysis of this figure — The 
 significance of the hand symbolically — The Aztec a substi- 
 tute for the Sphinx — The name Chi-wan-to-pel — The con- 
 nection of the anal region with veneration — Cliiwantopel and 
 Ahasver, the Wandering Jew — The parallel with Chidher — 
 Heroes generating themselves through tlieir own mothers — 
 Analogy with the Sun — Setting and rising sun: Mithra and 
 Helios, Christ and Peter, Dhulqarnein and Chidher — The 
 fish symbol — The two Dadophores : the two thieves — The 
 mortal and immortal parts of man — The Trinity taken from 
 ,phallic symbolism — Comparison of libido with phallus — 
 lAnalysis of libido symbolism always leads back to the 
 jimo ther incest — The hero myth the myth of our own suffer- 
 iing unconscious — Faust. 
 
 v.— SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH . 233 
 
 The crowd as symbol of mystery — The city as symbol of 
 the mother — The motive of continuous " union " — The 
 typical journey of the sun-hero — Examples — A longing for 
 rebirth through the mother — The compulsion to symbolize 
 J:he mother as City, Sea, Source, etc. — The city as terrible 
 mother and as holy mother — The relation of the water- 
 motive to rebirth — Of the tree-motive — Tree of life a 
 mother-image — The bisexual character of trees — Such sym- 
 bols to be understood psychologically, not anatomically — 
 The incestuous desire aims at becoming a child again, 
 not at incest — It evades incest by creating myths of symbolic 
 rebirth — The libido spiritualized through this use of sym- 
 bols — To be born of the spirit — This compulsion toward 
 symbolism brings a release of forces bound up in incest — 
 This process in Christianity — Christianity with its repres- 
 sion of the manifest sexual the negative of the ancient 
 sexual cult — The unconscious transformation of the incest 
 wish into religious exercise does not meet the modern need 
 — A conscious method necessary, involving moral autonomy 
 — Replacing belief by understanding — The history of the 
 symbolism of trees — The rise of the idea of the terrible 
 mother a mask of the incest wish — The myth of Osiris — Re- 
 lated examples — The motive of " devouring" — The Cross of 
 
 pri 
 
CONTENTS liii 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 Christ: tree of death and tree of life — Lilith: the devouring 
 mother — The Lamias — The conquering of the mother — Snake 
 and dragon: the resistance against incest — The father rep- 
 resents the active repulse of the incest wish of the son — He 
 frequently becomes the monster to be overcome by the hero — 
 The Mithraic sacrificing of the incest wish an overcoming of 
 the mother — A replacing of archaic overpowering by sac- 
 rifice of the wish — The crucified Christ an expression of 
 this renunciation — Other cross sacrifices — Cross symboL. 
 possesses significance of " union " — Child in mother's womb:j 
 or man and mother in union — Conception of the soul a d»-J 
 rivative of mother imago — The power of incest prohibition 
 created the self-conscious individual — It was the coercion 
 to domestication — The further visions of Miss Miller. 
 
 VI.— THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE FROM THE 
 
 MOTHER 307 
 
 The appearance of the hero Chiwantopel on horseback — 
 Hero and horse equivalent of humanity and its repressed 
 libido — Horse a libido symbol, partly phallic, partly mater- 
 nal, like the tree — It represents the libido repressed through 
 the incest prohibition — The scene of Chiwantopel and the 
 Indian — Recalling Cassius and Brutus: also delirium of 
 Cyrano — Identification of Cassius with his mother — His in- 
 fantile disposition — Miss Miller's hero also infantile — Her 
 visions arise from an infantile mother transference — Her 
 hero to die from an arrow wound — The symbolism of the 
 arrow — The onslaught of unconscious desires — The deadly 
 arrows strike the hero from within — It means the state of 
 introversion — A sinking back into the world of the child — 
 The danger of this regression — It may mean annihilation 
 or new life — Examples of introversion — The clash between 
 the retrogressive tendency in the individual unconscious 
 and the conscious forward striving — Willed introversion — 
 The unfulfilled sacrifice in the Miller phantasy means an 
 attempt to renounce the mother: the conqu&st of a new life 
 through the death of the old — The hero Miss Miller herself. 
 
 VII.— THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 34^ 
 
 Chiwantopel's monologue — His quest for the " one who 
 understands " — A quest for the mother — Also for the life- 
 companion — The sexual element in the wish — The battle 
 for independence from the mother — Its peril — Miss Miller's 
 use of Longfellow's Hiawatha — An analysis of Hiawatha — 
 A typical hero of the libido — The miraculous birth — The 
 hero's birth symbolic because it is really a rebirth from 
 the mother-spouse — The twofold mother which in Christian 
 mythology becomes twofold birth — The hero his own pro- 
 creator — Virgin conception a mask for incestuous impregna- 
 tion — Hiawatha's early life — The identification of mother- 
 nature with the mother — The killing of a roebuck a con- 
 quering of the parents — He takes on their strength — He 
 goes forth to slay the father in order to possess the mother 
 
liv CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 — Minnehaha, the mother — Hiawatha's introversion — Hiding 
 in the lap of nature really a return to the mother's womb 
 — The regression to the presexual revives the importance 
 of nutrition — The inner struggle with the mother, to over- 
 power and impregnate her — This fight against the longing 
 ^or the mother brings new strength — The Mondamin motive 
 in other myths — The Savior-hero the fruit of the entrance 
 of the libido into the personal maternal depths — This is 
 to die, and be born again — Hiawatha's struggle with the 
 fish-monster — A new deliverance from the mother — And 
 so again with Megissogwon, the Magician — The hero must 
 again and again conquer the mother — Then follows his 
 marriage with Minnehaha — Other incidents, his death: the 
 sinking of the sun in the west — Miss Miller also reminded 
 by Chiwantopel's longing of Wagner's Siegfried — Analysis 
 of the Siegfried myth — The treasure-guarding dragon — 
 The dragon the son's repressed longing for the mother — 
 Symbolism of the cave — The separation from the mother, the 
 hero's conquering of the dragon — The symbolism of the cup 
 — Drinking from the mother — Cup of the blood of Christ — 
 The resultant mysterious union of man — Profane interpre- 
 tations of this mystery — The phallic significance of the 
 : serpent — The snake as representing the introverting libido 
 A — Self-procreation: or creation of the world through intro- 
 I version — The world thus an emanation of the libido — The 
 hero himself a serpent — The psychoanalytic treatment of 
 regression — The hidden libido touched upon causes a strug- 
 gle: that is, the hero fights the fight with the treasure- 
 guarding dragon — The awakening of Brunhilda — Siegfried 
 finding his mother: a symbol of his own libido — The con- 
 quest of the terrible mother brings the love and life- 
 giving mother. 
 
 Vni.— THE SACRIFICE 428 
 
 Miss Miller's vision again — The paradoxical striving 
 of the libido away from the mother toward the mother — 
 The destroying mother becomes beneficent on being con- 
 quered — Chiwantopel a hero of words, not deeds — He has 
 * not that will to live which breaks the magic circle of the 
 
 incestuous — His identification with the author, and her 
 wish for the parents — The end is the devouring of the 
 daughter's libido by the mother — Sexuality of the uncon- 
 scious mpielv a svmbo! — Idle dreaming the mother of the 
 fear of death — This downward path in the poetry of Hol- 
 derlin — The estrangement from reality, the introversion 
 leading to death — The necessity of freeing libido for a 
 complete devotion to life — Otherwise bound by unconscious 
 compulsion: Fate — Sublimation through vohmtary work — 
 Creation of the world through cosmic sacrifice — Man dis- 
 covers the world when he sacrifices the mother — The incest 
 barrier as the producer of thought — Budding sexuality 
 drawing the individual from the family — The mind dawns 
 at the moment the child begins to be free of the mother — 
 
CONTENTS Iv 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 He seeks to win the world, and leave the mother — Childish 
 regression to the presexual brings archaic phantasies — The 
 incest problem not physical, but psychological — Sacrifice of 
 of the horse: sacrifice of the animal nature — The sacrifice 
 of the "mother libido": of the son to the mother — Su- 
 periority of Christian symbol: the sacrifice, not only of 
 lower nature, but the whole personality — Miss Miller's 
 phantasy passes from sacrifice of the sexual, to sacrifice of 
 the infantile personality — Problem of psychoanalysis, ex- 
 pressed mythologically, the sacrifice and rebirth of the 
 infantile hero — The libido wills the destruction of its 
 creation: horse and serpent — The end of the hero by means 
 of earthquake — The one who understands him is the 
 mother. 
 
" Therefore theory, which gives to facts their value and sig- 
 nificance, is often very useful, even if it is partially false, for it 
 throws light on phenomena which no one observed, it forces an 
 examination, from many angles, of facts which no one had hitherto 
 studied, and it gives the impulse for more extended and more pro- 
 ductive researches. 
 
 "It is, therefore, a moral duty for the man of science to expose 
 himself to the risk of committing error and to submit to criticism, 
 in order that science may continue to progress. A writer has 
 attacked the author for this very severely, saying, here is a scientific 
 ideal very limited and very paltry. But those who are endowed 
 with a mind sufficiently serious and impersonal as not to believe 
 that all that they write is the expression of truth absolute and 
 eternal, approve of this theory which places the aims of science well 
 above the miserable vanity and paltry ' amour propre ' of the 
 scientist." — Guglielmo Ferrero. 
 
 Les Lois Psychologiques du Symbolisme — 1895- Preface, p. 'viii. 
 
PART I 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 Any one who can read Freud's " Interpretation of the 
 Dream " without scientific rebellion at the newness and 
 apparently unjustified daring of its analytical presenta- 
 tion, and without moral indignation at the astonishing 
 nudity of the dream interpretation, and who can allow 
 this unusual array of facts to influence his mind calmly 
 and without prejudice, will surely be deeply impressed at 
 that place where Freud calls to mind the fact that 
 an individual psychologic conflict, namely, the Incest 
 Phantasy, is the essential root of that powerful ancient 
 dramatic material, the Oedipus legend. The impression 
 made by this simple reference may be likened to that 
 wholly peculiar feeling which arises in us if, for example, 
 in the noise and tumult of a modern street we should 
 come across an ancient relic — the Corinthian capital of a 
 walled-in column, or a fragment of inscription. Just a 
 moment ago we were given over to the noisy ephemeral 
 life of the present, when something very far away and 
 strange appears to us, which turns our attention to things 
 of another order; a glimpse away from the incoherent 
 multiplicity of the present to a higher coherence in his- 
 tory. Very likely it would suddenly occur to us that on 
 this spot where we now run busily to and fro a similar 
 life and activity prevailed two thousand years ago in 
 
 3 
 
4 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 somewhat other forms; similar passions moved mankind, 
 and man was likewise convinced of the uniqueness of his 
 existence. I would liken the impression which the first 
 acquaintance with the monuments of antiquity so easily 
 leaves behind to that impression which Freud's reference 
 to the Oedipus legend makes — for while we are still en- 
 gaged with the confusing impressions of the variability of 
 the Individual Soul, suddenly there is opened a revelation 
 of the simple greatness of the Oedipus tragedy — that 
 never extinguished light of the Grecian theatre. 
 
 This breadth of outlook carries in itself something of 
 revelation. For us, the ancient psychology has long since 
 been buried among the shadows of the past; in the school- 
 room one could scarcely repress a sceptical smile when 
 one indiscreetly reckoned the comfortable matronly age 
 of Penelope and the age of Jocasta, and comically com- 
 pared the result of the reckoning with the tragic-erotic 
 struggles in the legend and drama. We did not know at 
 that time (and who knows even today?) that the mother 
 can be the all-consuming passion of the son, which per- 
 haps undermines his whole life and tragically destroys 
 it, so that not even the magnitude of the Oedipus Fate 
 seems one jot overdrawn. Rare and pathologically under- 
 stood cases like Ninon de Lenclos and her son ^ lie too 
 far removed from most of us to give a living impression. 
 But when we follow the paths traced out by Freud, we 
 arrive at a recognition of the present existence of such 
 possibilities, which, although they are too weak to en- 
 force Incest, are still strong enough to cause disturbances 
 of considerable magnitude in the soul. The admission 
 
INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 of such possibilities to one's self does not occur without a 
 great burst of moral revulsion. Resistances arise which 
 only too easily dazzle the intellect, and, through that, 
 make knowledge of self impossible. Whenever we suc- 
 ceed, however, in stripping feelings from more scientific 
 knowledge, then that abyss which separates our age from 
 the antique is bridged, and, with astonishment, we see 
 that Oedipus is still a living thing for us. The importance 
 of such an impression should not be undervalued. We 
 are taught by this insight that there is an identity of 
 elementary human conflicts existing independent of time 
 and place. That which affected the Greeks with horror 
 still remains true, but it is true for us only when we give 
 up a vain illusion that we are different — that is to say, 
 more moral, than the ancients. We of the present day 
 have nearly succeeded in forgetting that an indissoluble 
 common bond binds us to the people of antiquity. With 
 this truth a path is opened to the understanding of the 
 ancient mind; an understanding which so far has not 
 existed, and, on one side, leads to an inner sympathy, and, 
 on the other side, to an intellectual comprehension. 
 Through buried strata of the individual soul we come 
 indirectly into possession of the living mind of the ancient 
 culture, and, just precisely through that, do we win that 
 stable point of view outside our own culture, from which, 
 for the first time, an objective understanding of their 
 mechanisms would be possible. At least that is the hope 
 which we get from the rediscovery of the Oedipus 
 problem. 
 
 The enquiry made possible by Freud's work has al- 
 
6 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 ready resulted fruitfully; we are indebted to this stimula- 
 tion for some bold attacks upon the territory of the 
 history of the human mind. There are the works of 
 Riklin,^ Abraham,'' Rank,* Maeder,^ Jones,'' — recently 
 Silberer has joined their ranks with a beautiful investiga- 
 tion entitled " Phantasie und Mythus." ^ We are in- 
 debted to Pfister ^ for a comprehensive work which 
 cannot be overlooked here, and which is of much impor- 
 tance for Christian religious psychology. The leading 
 purpose of these works is the unlocking of historical 
 problems through the application of psychoanalytic 
 knowledge; that is to say, knowledge drawn from the 
 activity of the modern unconscious mind concerning spe- 
 cific historical material. 
 
 I must refer the reader entirely to the specified works, 
 in order that he may gain information concerning the 
 extent and the kind of insight which has already been 
 obtained. The explanations are in many cases dubious 
 in particulars; nevertheless, this detracts in no way from 
 the total result. It would be significant enough if only 
 the far-reaching analogy between the psychologic struc- 
 ture of the historical relics and the structure of the recent 
 individual psychologic products alone were demonstrated. 
 This proof is possible of attainment for every intelligent 
 person through the work done up to this time. The 
 analogy prevails especially in symbolism, as Riklin, Rank, 
 Maeder, and Abraham have pointed out with illuminat- 
 ing examples; it is also shown in the individual mechan- 
 isms of unconscious work, that is to say in repression, 
 condensation, etc., as Abraham explicitly shows. 
 
INTRODUCTION 7 
 
 Up to the present time the psychoanalytic investigator 
 has turned his interest chiefly to the analysis of the indi- 
 vidual psychologic problems. It seems to me, however, 
 that in the present state of affairs there is a more or less 
 imperative demand for the psychoanalyst to broaden 
 the analysis of the individual problems by a comparative 
 study of historical material relating to them, just as 
 Freud has already done in a masterly manner in his book 
 on " Leonardo da Vinci." ^ For, just as the psycho- 
 analytic conceptions promote understanding of the his- 
 toric psychologic creations, so reversedly historical mate- 
 rials can shed new light upon individual psychologic 
 problems. These and similar considerations have caused 
 me to turn my attention somewhat more to the historical, 
 in the hope that, out of this, new insight into the founda- 
 tions of individual psychology might be won. 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 CONCERNING THE TWO KINDS OF 
 THINKING 
 
 It Is a well-known fact that one of the principles of 
 analytic psychology is that the dream images are to be 
 understood symbolically; that is to say, that they are not 
 to be taken literally just as they are presented in sleep, 
 but that behind them a hidden meaning has to be sur- 
 mised. It is this ancient idea of a dream symbolism which 
 has challenged not only criticism, but, in addition to that, 
 the strongest opposition. That dreams may be full of 
 import, and, therefore, something to be interpreted, is cer- 
 tainly neither a strange nor an extraordinary idea. This 
 has been familiar to mankind for thousands of years, and, 
 therefore, seems much like a banal truth. The dream 
 interpretations of the Egyptians and Chaldeans, and the 
 story of Joseph who Interpreted Pharaoh's dreams, are 
 known to every one, and the dream book of Artemidorus 
 is also familiar. From countless inscribed monuments of 
 all times and peoples we learn of foreboding dreams, of 
 significant, of prophetic and also of curative dreams 
 which the Deity sent to the sick, sleeping in the temple. 
 We know the dream of the mother of Augustus, who 
 dreamt she was to be with child by the Deity trans- 
 formed into a snake. We will not heap up references 
 and examples to bear witness to the existence of a belief 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 9 
 
 In the symbolism of dreams. When an idea is so old, 
 and is so generally believed, it is probably true in some 
 way, and, indeed, as is mostly the case, is not literally 
 true, but is true psychologically. In this distinction lies 
 the reason why the old fogies of science have from time 
 to time thrown away an inherited piece of ancient truth; 
 because it was not literal but psychologic truth. For such 
 discrimination this type of person has at no time had any 
 comprehension. 
 
 From our experience, it is hardly conceivable that a 
 God existing outside of ourselves causes dreams, or that 
 the dream, eo ipso, foresees the future prophetically. 
 When we translate this into the psychdlogicriioweveT; — y 
 then the ancient theories sound much more reconcilable,/ 
 namely, the dream arises from a part of the mind unf 
 known to us, but none the less important, and is concerned 
 with the desires for the approaching day. This psycho- 
 logic formula derived from the ancient superstitious cont 
 ceptlon of dreams, is, so to speak, exactly identified 
 with the Freudian psychology, which assumes a ris- \, 
 Ing wish from the unconscious to be the source of the>' 
 dream. ' 
 
 As the old belief teaches, the Deity or the Demon 
 speaks in symbolic speech to the sleeper, and the dream 
 interpreter has the riddle to solve. In modern speech we 
 say this means that the dream is a series of images, whicfT"^ \ 
 are apparently contradictory and nonsensical, but arise in I 
 reality from psychologic material which yields a clear \ 
 meaning. ■ ^ J 
 
 Were I to suppose among my readers a far-reaching 
 
lo PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 ignorance of dream analysis, then I should be obliged to 
 illustrate this statement with numerous examples. 
 Today, however, these things are quite well known, so 
 that one must proceed carefully with every-day dream 
 material, out of consideration for a public educated in 
 these matters. It is a special inconvenience that no dream 
 can be recounted without being obliged to add to it half 
 a life's history which affords the individual foundations 
 of the dream, but there are some few typical dreams 
 
 r which can be told without too great a ballast. One of 
 these is the dr eam of the sexual assault, which is especially 
 prevalent among women. A girl~sTe£ping after an even- 
 ing happily spent in dancing, dreams that a robber breaks 
 open her door noisily and stabs through her body | 
 with a lance. This theme, which explains itself, has 
 countless variations, some simple, some complicated. 
 Instead of the lance it is a sword, a dagger, a revolver, 
 a gun, a cannon, a hydrant, a watering pot; or the assault 
 is a burglary, a pursuit, a robbery, or it is some one 
 hidden in the closet or under the bed. Or the danger 
 may be illustrated by wild animals; for instance, a horse 
 which throws the dreamer to the ground and kicks her in 
 the body with his hind foot; lions, tigers, elephants with 
 threatening trunks, and finally snakes in endless variety. 
 Sometimes the snake creeps into the mouth, sometimes 
 it bites the breast like Cleopatra's legendary asp, some- 
 times It comes in the role of the paradisical snake, or in 
 the variations of Franz Stuck, whose pictures of snakes 
 bear the significant titles " Vice," " Sin," " Lust." The 
 mixture of lust and anxiety is expressed incomparably in 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING ii 
 
 the very atmosphere of these pictures, and far more 
 brutally, indeed, than in Morike's charming poem. 
 
 The Maiden s First Love Song 
 
 What's in the net? 
 
 Behold, 
 But I am afraid, 
 Do I grasp a sweet eel. 
 Do I seize a snake? 
 
 Love is a blind 
 
 Fisherwoman ; 
 
 Tell the child 
 
 Where to seize. 
 Already it leaps in my hands. 
 
 Oh, Pity, or delight! 
 With nestlings and turnings 
 
 It coils on my breast. 
 
 It bites me, oh, wonder! 
 
 Boldly through the skin, 
 
 It darts under my heart. 
 Oh, Love, I shudder! 
 
 What can I do, what can I begin ? 
 That shuddering thing; 
 There it crackles within 
 And coils in a ring. 
 It must be poisoned. 
 Here it crawls around. 
 Blissfully I feel as it worms 
 Itself into my soul 
 And kills me finally. 
 
 All these things are simple, and need no explanation 
 to be intelligible. Somewhat more complicated, but still 
 
12 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 unmistakable, is the dream of a woman; she sees the 
 triumphal arch of Constantine. A cannon stands before 
 It, to the right of It a bird, to the left a man. A shot 
 flashes out of the tube; the projectile hits her; it goes 
 into her pocket, into her purse. There it remains, and 
 she holds her purse as if something very precious were 
 in it. The image disappears, and she continues to see 
 only the stock of the cannon, and over that Constantine's 
 motto, " In hoc signo vinces." 
 
 These few references to the symbolic nature of dreams 
 are perhaps sufficient. For whomsoever the proof may 
 appear insufficient, and it is certainly Insufficient for a 
 beginner, further evidence may be found In the funda- 
 mental work of Freud, and in the works of Stekel and 
 Rank which are fuller in certain particulars. We must 
 assume here that the dream symbolism Is an established 
 fact, in order to bring to our study a mind suitably pre- 
 pared for an appreciation of this work. We would not 
 be successful If we, on the contrary, were to be astonished 
 at the Idea that an intellectual image can be projected 
 Into our conscious psychic activity; an Image which ap- 
 parently obeys such wholly other laws and purposes than 
 those governing the conscious psychic product. 
 
 'Why are dreams symbolic? Every " why " In psychol- 
 ogy is divided into two separate questions : first, for what 
 purpose are dreams symbolic? We will answer this 
 question only to abandon it at once. Dreams are symbolic 
 in order that they can not be understood; in order that 
 the wish, which Is the source of the dream, may remain 
 unknown. The question why this is so and not otherwise, 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 13 
 
 leads us out Into the far-reaching experiences and trains 
 of thought of the Freudian psychology. 
 
 Here the second question Interests us, viz., How is it 
 that dreams are symbolic? That Is to say, from where 
 does this capacity for symboUc representation come, of 
 which we. In our conscious daily life, can discover ap- 
 parently no traces? 
 
 Let us examine this more closely. Can we really dis- 
 cover nothing symbolic In our every-day thought? Let 
 us follow our trains of thought; let us take an example. 
 We think of the war of 1870 and 1871. We think about 
 a series of bloody battles, the siege of Strassburg, Bel- 
 fort, Paris, the Treaty of Peace, the foundation of the 
 German Empire, and so on. How have we been think- 
 ing? We start with an idea, or super-Idea, as it is also 
 called, and without thinking of it, but each time merely 
 guided by a feeling of direction, we think about individual 
 reminiscences of the war. In this we can find nothing 
 symbolic, and our whole conscious thinking proceeds ac- 
 cording to this type.^ 
 
 If we observe our thinking very narrowly, and follow 
 an Intensive train of thought, as, for example, the solu- 
 tion of a difficult problem, then suddenly we notice that 
 we are thinking in words, that in wholly intensive think- 
 ing we begin to speak to ourselves, or that we occasionally 
 write down the problem, or make a drawing of it so as to 
 be absolutely clear. It must certainly have happened 
 to any one who has lived for some time in a foreign 
 country, that after a certain period he has begun to think 
 In the language of the country. A very intensive train 
 
14 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 of thinking works itself out more or less in word form; 
 that is, if one wants to express it, to teach it, or to con- 
 vince any one of it. Evidently it directs itself wholly to 
 the outside world. To this extent, this directed or logical 
 thinking is a reality thinking," having a real existence for 
 us; that is to say, a thinking which adjusts itself to actual 
 conditions,'' where we, expressed in other words, imitate 
 the succession of objectively real things, so that the 
 images in our mind follow after each other in the same 
 strictly causal succession as the historical events outside 
 of our mind.* 
 
 We call this thinking, thinking with directed attention. 
 It has, in addition, the peculiarity that one is tired by if, 
 and that, on this account, it is set into action only for a 
 time. Our whole vital accomplishment, which is so ex- 
 pensive, is adaptation to environment; a part of it is the 
 directed thinking, which, biologically expressed, is noth- 
 ing but a process of psychic assimilation, which, as in 
 every vital accomplishment, leaves behind a correspond- 
 ing exhaustion. 
 
 The material with which we think is language and 
 speech concept, a thing which has been used from time 
 immemorial as something external, a bridge for thought, 
 and which has a single purpose — that of communication. 
 As long as we think directedly, we think for others and 
 speak to others.^ 
 
 Speech is originally a system of emotional and imita- 
 tive sounds — sounds which express terror, fear, anger, 
 love; and sounds which imitate the noises of the elements, 
 the rushing and gurgling of water, the rolling of thunder, 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 15 
 
 the tumults of the winds, the tones of the animal world, 
 and so on; and, finally, those which represent a combina- 
 tion of the sounds of perception and of affective reaction.® 
 Likewise in the more or less modern languages, large 
 quantities of onomatopoetic relics are retained; for ex- 
 ample, sounds for the movement of water, — 
 
 Rauschen, risseln, ruschen, rinnen, rennen, to rush, ruscello, 
 ruisseau, river, Rhein. 
 
 Wasser, wissen, wissern, pissen, piscis, fisch. 
 
 Thus language is orginally and essentially nothing but 
 a system of signs or symbols, which denote real occur- 
 rences, or their echo in the human soul. 
 
 Therefore one must decidedly agree with Anatole 
 France,^ when he says, 
 
 "What is thought, and how do we think? We think with 
 words; that alone is sensual and brings us back to nature. Think 
 of it! The metaphysician has onlj'^ the perfected cry of monkeys 
 and dogs with which to construct the system of the world. That 
 which he calls profound speculation and transcendent method is 
 to put end to end in an arbitrary order the natural sounds which 
 cry out hunger, fear, and love in the primitive forests, and to 
 which were attached little by little the meanings which one be- 
 lieved to be abstract, when they were only crude. 
 
 " Do not fear that the succession of small cries, feeble and 
 stifled, which compose a book of philosophy, will teach us so 
 much regarding the universe, that we can live in it no longer." 
 
 Thus is our directed thinking, and even if we were the 
 loneliest and furthest removed from our fellows, this 
 thinking is nothing but the first notes of a long-drawn- 
 out call to our companions that water had been found, 
 
i6 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 that we had killed the bear, that a storm was approach- 
 ing, or that wolves were prowling around the camp. A 
 striking paradox of Abelard's which expresses in a very 
 intuitive way the whole human limitation of our compli- 
 ^cated thinking process, reads, — " Sermo generatur ab 
 intellectu et general intellectum." * 
 
 Any system of philosophy, no matter how abstract, 
 represents in means and purpose nothing more than an 
 extremely cleverly developed combination of original 
 nature sounds.^ Hence arises the desire of a Schopen- 
 hauer or a Nietzsche for recognition and understanding, 
 and the despair and bitterness of their loneliness. On,e 
 might expect, perhaps, that a man full of genius could 
 pasture in the greatness of his own thoughts, and re- 
 nounce the cheap approbation of the crowd which he 
 despises; yet he succumbs to the more powerful impulse 
 of the herd instinct. His searching and his finding, his 
 call, belong to the herd. 
 
 When I said just now that directed thinking is properly 
 a thinking with words, and quoted that clever testimony 
 of Anatole France as drastic proof of it, a misunder- 
 standing might easily arise, namely, that directed thinking 
 is really only " word." That certainly would go too far. 
 Language should, however, be comprehended in a wider 
 sense than that of speech, which is in itself only the ex- 
 pression of the formulated thought which is capable of 
 being communicated in the widest sense. Otherwise, the 
 deaf mute would be limited to the utmost in his capacity 
 for thinking, which is not the case in reality. Without 
 
 * Speech is generated by the intellect and in turn generates intellect 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 17 
 
 any knowledge of the spoken word, he has his 
 " language." This language, considered from the stand- 
 point of history, or in other words, directed thinking, 
 is here a descendant of the primitive words, as, for in- 
 stance, Wundt ° expresses it. 
 
 " A further important result of that co-operation of sound and 
 sign interchange consists in the fact that very many words gradu- 
 ally lose altogether their original concrete thought meaning, and 
 turn into signs for general ideas and for the expression of the 
 apperceptive functions of relation and comparison and their 
 products. In this manner abstract thought develops, which, because 
 it would not be possible without the change of meaning lying at 
 the root of it, is indeed a production of that psychic and psycho- 
 physical reciprocal action out of which the development of language 
 takes place." 
 
 Jodl ^^ denies the identity of language and thought, 
 because, for one reason, one and the same psychic fact 
 might be expressed in different languages in different 
 ways. From that he draws the conclusion that a " super- 
 language thinking " exists. Certainly there is such a thing, 
 whether with Erdmann one considers it " hypologisch," 
 or with Jodl as " super-language." Only this is not 
 logical thinking. My conception of it agrees with the 
 noteworthy contribution made by Baldwin, which I will 
 quote here word for word." 
 
 " The transmission from pre-judgmental to judgmental mean- 
 ing is just that from knowledge which has social confirmation 
 to that which gets along without it. The meanings utilized for 
 judgment are those already developed in their presuppositions 
 and applications through the confirmation of social intercourse. 
 Thus, the personal judgment, trained in the methods of social 
 
i8 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 rendering, and disciplined by the interaction of its social world, 
 projects its content into that world again. In other words, the 
 platform for all movement into the assertion of individual judg- 
 ment — the level from which new experience is utilized — is already 
 and always socialized ; and it is just this movement that we find 
 reflected in the actual results as the sense of the * appropriateness ' 
 or synomic character of the meaning rendered. 
 
 " Now the development of thought, as we are to see in more 
 detail, is by a method essentially of trial and error, of experi- 
 mentation, of the use of meanings as worth more than they are as 
 yet recognized to be worth. The individual must use his own 
 thoughts, his established knowledges, his grounded judgments, for 
 the embodiment of his new inventive constructions. He erects 
 his thought as we say ' schematically ' — in logic terms, ' prob- 
 lematically,' conditionally, disjunctively; projecting into the 
 world an opinion still peculiar to hirnself, as if it were true. Thus 
 all discovery proceeds. But this is, from the linguistic point of 
 view, still to use the current language, still to work by meanings 
 already embodied in social and conventional usage. 
 
 " Language grows, therefore, just as thought does, by never 
 losing its synomic or dual reference; its meaning is both personal 
 and social. 
 
 " It is the register of tradition, the record of racial conquest, 
 the deposit of all the gains made by the genius of individuals 
 . . . The social copy-system, thus established, reflects the 
 judgmental processes of the race, and in turn becomes the 
 training school of the judgment of new generations. 
 
 " Most of the training of the self, whereby the vagaries of 
 personal reaction to fact and image are reduced to the basis of 
 sound judgment, comes through the use of speech. When the 
 child speaks, he lays before the world his suggestion for a general 
 or common meaning. The reception he gets confirms or refutes 
 him. In either case he is instructed. His next venture is now 
 from a platform of knowledge on which the newer item is more 
 nearly convertible into the common coin of effective intercourse. 
 The point to notice here is not so much the exact mechanism of 
 the exchange — secondary conversion — by which this gain is made, 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 19 
 
 as the training in judgment that the constant use of it affords. 
 In each case, effective judgment is the common judgment. 
 
 " Here the object is to point out that it is secured by the 
 development of a function whose rise is directly ad hoc, directly 
 for the social experimentation by which growth in personal com- 
 petence is advanced as well — the function of speech. 
 
 " In language, therefore, to sum up the foregoing, we have the 
 tangible — the actual — the historical — instrument of the develop- 
 ment and conservation of psychic meaning. It is the material 
 evidence and proof of the concurrence of social and personal judg- 
 ment. In it synomic meaning, judged as ' appropriate,' becomes 
 ' social ' meaning, held as socially generalized and acknowledged." 
 
 These arguments of Baldwin abundantly emphasize 
 the wide-reaching limitations of thinking caused by 
 language.^" These limitations are of the greatest signifi- 
 cance, both subjectively and objectively; at least their 
 meaning is great enough to force one to ask one's self if, 
 after all, in regard to independence of thought, Franz 
 Mauthner, thoroughly sceptical, is not really correct in 
 his view that thinking is speech and nothing more. 
 Baldwin expresses himself more cautiously and reserv- 
 edly; nevertheless, his inner meaning is plainly in favor 
 of the primacy of speech (naturally not in the sense of 
 the spoken word) ; the directed thinking, or as we might 
 perhaps call it, the thinking in internal speech, is the 
 manifest instrument of culture, and we do not go astray 
 when we say that the powerful work of education which 
 the centuries have given to directed thinking has pro- 
 duced, just through the peculiar development of thinking 
 from the individual subjective into the social objective, a 
 practical application of the human mind to which we owe 
 
20 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 modern empiricism and technic, and which occurs for ab- 
 solutely the first time in the history of the world. Inquisi- 
 tive minds have often tormented themselves with the 
 question why the undoubtedly extraordinary knowledge 
 of mathematics and principles and material facts 
 united with the unexampled art of the human hand in 
 antiquity never arrived at the point of developing those 
 known technical statements of fact, for instance, the 
 principles of simple machines, beyond the realm of the 
 amusing and curious to a real technic in the modern sense. 
 -There is necessarily only one answer to this; the ancients 
 almost entirely, with the exception of a few extraordinary 
 minds, lacked the capacity to allow their interest to 
 follow the transformations of inanimate matter to the 
 extent necessary for them to be able to reproduce the 
 process of nature, creatively and through their own art, 
 by means of which alone they could have succeeded in 
 putting themselves in possession of the force of nature. 
 That which they lacked was training In directed thinking, 
 or, to express it psychoanalytically, the ancients did not 
 succeed in tearing loose the libido which might be subli- 
 mated, from the other natural relations, and did not 
 turn voluntarily to anthropomorphism. The secret of 
 the development of culture lies in the moBtliTyof the 
 libido, and in its capacity for transference. It is, there- 
 fore, to be assumed that the directed thinking of our time 
 is a more or less modern acquisition, which was lacking 
 in earlier times. 
 
 But T^ith that we come to a further question, viz., what 
 happen if we do not think directedly? Then our thinking 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 21 
 
 lacks the major idea, and the feeling of direction which 
 emanates from that/^ We no longer compel our 
 thoughts along a definite track, but let them float, sink 
 and mount according to their own gravity. According 
 to Kulpe ^* thinking is a kind of inner will action, the 
 absence of which necessarily leads to an automatic play 
 of ideas. James understands the non-directed thinking, 
 or " merely associative " thinking, as the ordinary one. 
 He expresses himself about that in the following 
 manner: 
 
 " Our thought consists for the great part of a series of images, 
 one of which produces the other ; a sort of passive dream-state of 
 which the higher animals are also capable. This sort of thinking 
 leads, nevertheless, to reasonable conclusions of a practical as well 
 as of a theoretical nature. ^ ^^ \ 
 
 " As a rule, the links of this sort of irresponsible thinking,^ 
 which are accidentally bound together, are empirically concrete^ 
 things, not abstractions." 
 
 We can, in the following manner, complete these defi- 
 nitions of William James. This sort of thinking does 
 not tire us; it quickly leads us away from reality mto 
 phantasies of the past and future. Here, thinking In" 
 form of speech ceases, image crowds upon image, feel- 
 ing upon feeling; more and more clearly one sees a 
 tendency which creates and makes believe, not as it truly 
 is, but as one indeed might wish it to be.^^ The material 
 of these thoughts which turns away from reality, can 
 naturally be only the past with its thousand memory pic- 
 tures. The customary speech calls this kind of thinking 
 " dreaming." .-^ 
 
22 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Whoever attentively observes himself will find the 
 general custom of speech very striking, for almost every 
 day we can see for ourselves how, when falling asleep, 
 phantasies are woven into our dreams, so that between 
 the dreams of day :and night there is not so great a 
 difference. Thus we have two forms of thinking — 
 directed thinking and dream or phantasy thinking. The 
 first, working for communication with speech elements, 
 is troublesome and exhausting; the latter, on the contrary, 
 goes on without trouble, working spontaneously, so to 
 speak, with reminiscences. The first creates innovations, 
 adaptations, imitates reality and seeks to act upon it. 
 The latter, on the contrary, turns away from reality, sets 
 free subjective wishes, and is, in regard to adaptation, 
 [wholly unproductive.^^ 
 
 Let us leave aside the query as to why we possess these 
 two different ways of thinking, and turn back to the 
 second proposition, namely, how comes it that we have 
 two different ways of thinking? I have intimated above 
 that history shows us that directed thinking was not 
 always as developed as it is at present. In this age the 
 most beautiful expression of directed thinking is science, 
 and the technic fostered by it. Both things are indebted 
 for their existence simply to an energetic education in 
 directed thinking. At the time, however, when a few 
 forerunners of the present culture, like the poet Petrarch, 
 first began to appreciate Nature understandingly " there 
 was already in existence an equivalent for our science, to 
 wit, scholasticism.^^ This took its objects from the phan- 
 tasies of the past, and it gave to the mind a dialectic 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 23 
 
 training In directed thinking. The only success which 
 beckoned the thinker was rhetorical victory In disputa- 
 tion, and not a visible transformation of reality. 
 
 The subjects of thinking were often astonishingly 
 phantastlcal; for example, questions were discussed, such 
 as how many angels could have a place on the point of 
 a needle? Whether Christ could have done his work 
 of redemption equally well if he had come Into the 
 world as a pea? The possibility of such problems, to 
 which belong the metaphysical problems in general, viz., 
 to be able to know the unknowable, shows us of what 
 peculiar kind that mind must have been which created 
 such things which to us are the height of absurdity. 
 Nietzsche had guessed, however, at the biological back- 
 ground of this phenomenon when he spoke of the " beau- 
 tiful tension " of the Germanic mind which the Middle 
 Ages created. Taken historically, scholasticism, in the 
 spirit of which persons of towering Intellectual powers, 
 such as Thomas of Aquinas, Duns Scotus, Abelard, Wil- 
 liam of Occam and others, have labored, is the mother of 
 the modern scientific attitude, and a later time will see 
 clearly how and In what scholasticism still furnishes 
 living undercurrents to the science of today. Its whole 
 nature lies in dialectic gymnastics which have raised the 
 symbol of speech, the word, to an almost absolute mean- 
 ing, so that it finally attained to that substantiality which 
 expiring antiquity could lend to its logos only temporarily, 
 through attributes of mystical valuation. The great 
 work of scholasticism, however, appears to be the founda- 
 tion of firmly knitted intellectual sublimation, the conditio 
 
24 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 sine qua non of the modern scientific and technical 
 spirit. 
 
 Should we go further back into history, we shall find 
 that which today we call science, dissolved into an indis- 
 tinct cloud. The modern culture-creating mind is inces- 
 santly occupied in stripping off all subjectivity from ex- 
 perience, and in finding those formulas which bring 
 Nature and her forces to the best and most fitting expres- 
 sion. It would be an absurd and entirely unjustified self- 
 lorification if we were to assume that we are more 
 energetic or more intelligent than the ancients — our 
 materials for knowledge have increased, but not our in- 
 tellectual capacity. For this reason, we become imme- 
 diately as obstinate and insusceptible in regard to new 
 ideas as people in the darkest times of antiquity. Our 
 knowledge has increased but not our wisdom. Th^ main 
 point of our interest is displaced wholly into material 
 reality; antiquity preferred a mode of thought which was 
 ore closely related to a phantastic type. Except for a 
 sensitive perspicuity towards works of art, not attained 
 since then, we seek in vain in antiquity for that precise 
 and concrete manner of thinking characteristic of modern 
 science. We see the antique spirit create not science but 
 mythology. Unfortunately, we acquire in school only 
 a very paltry conception of the richness and immense 
 power of life of Grecian mythology. 
 
 Therefore, at first glance, it does not seem possible for 
 us to assume that that energy and interest which today 
 we put into science and technic, the man of antiquity gave 
 In great part to his mythology. That, nevertheless, gives 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 25 
 
 the explanation for the bewildering changes, the kaleido- 
 scopic transformations and new syncretistic groupings, 
 and the continued rejuvenation of the myths in the 
 Grecian sphere of culture. Here, we move in a world 
 of phantasies, which, little concerned with the outer 
 course of things, flows from an inner source, and, con- 
 stantly changing, creates now plastic, now shadowy 
 shapes. This phantastical activity of the ancient mind 
 created artistically par excellence. The object of the in- 
 terest does not seem to have been to grasp hold of the 
 " how " of the real world as objectively and exactly as 
 possibly, but to aesthetically adapt subjective phantasies 
 and expectations. There was very little place among 
 ancient people for the coldness and disillusion which 
 Giordano Bruno's thoughts on eternity and Kepler's dis- 
 coveries brought to modern humanity. The naive man 
 of antiquity saw in the sun the great Father of the heaven 
 and the earth, and in the moon the fruitful good Mother. 
 Everything had its demons; they animated equally a 
 human being and his brother, the animal. Everything 
 was considered according to its anthropomorphic or 
 theriomorphic attributes, as human being or animal. 
 Even the disc of the sun was given wings or four feet, 
 in order to illustrate its movement. Thus arose an idea 
 of the universe which was not only very far from reality, 
 but was one which corresponded wholly to subjective 
 phantasies. 
 
 We know, from our own experience, this state of mind. 
 It is an infantile stage. To a child the moon is a man or 
 a face or a shepherd of the stars. The clouds in the sky 
 

 26 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 seem like little sheep; the dolls drink, eat and sleep; the 
 child places a letter at the window for the Christ-child; 
 he calls to the stork to bring him a little brother or 
 sister; the cow is the wife of the horse, and the dog the 
 husband of the cat. We know, too, that lower races, like 
 the negroes, look upon the locomotive as an animal, and 
 call the drawers of the table the child of the table. 
 
 As we learn through Freud, the dream shows a similar 
 type. Since the dream is unconcerned with the real condi- 
 tion of things, it brings the most heterogeneous matter 
 together, and a world of impossibilities takes the place 
 ,:)f realities. Freud finds progression characteristic of ^ 
 thinking when awake ; that is to say, the advancement of 
 the thought excitation from the system of the inner or 
 outer perception through the " endopsychic " work of 
 association, conscious and unconscious, to the motor end; 
 that is to say, towards innervation. In the dream he finds 
 the reverse, namely, regression of the thought excitation 
 from the pre-conscious or unconscious to the system of 
 perception, by the means of which the dream receives 
 its ordinary impression of sensuous distinctness, which 
 can rise to an almost hallucinating clearness. Xhe dream 
 thinking moves in a retrograde manner towards the raw 
 material of memory. " The structure of the dream 
 thoughts is dissolved during the progress of regression 
 into its ra w material. " The reanimation of the original 
 perception is, however, only one side of regression. The 
 other side is regression to the infantile memory material, 
 which might also be understood as regression to the 
 original perception, but which deserves especial mention 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 27 
 
 on account of its Independent Importance. This regres- 
 sion might, Indeed, be considered as " historical." The 
 dream, according to this conception, might also be de- 
 scribed as the substitute of the infantile scene, changed 
 through transference into the recent scene. 
 
 The infantile scene cannot carry through Its revival; 
 it must be satisfied with Its return as a dream. From 
 this conception of the historical side of regression, It fol- 
 lows consequently that the modes of conclusion of the 
 dream, In so far as one may speak of them, must show 
 at the same time an analogous and Infantile character. 
 This Is truly the case, as experience has abundantly 
 shown, so that today every one who is familiar with the 
 subject of dream analysis confirrm Freud's proposition 
 that drea ms a re_ja^iece of the cortqttet^d life of the 
 childish soul. Inasmuch as the childish psychic life Is 
 
 undeniably of an archaic type, this characteristic belongs 
 to the dream in quite an unusual degree. Freud calls our 
 attention to this especially. ^^ \ 
 
 " The dream, which fulfils its wishes by a short, regressive 
 path, affords us only an example of the primary method of work- 
 ing of the psychic apparatus, which has been abandoned by us as 
 unsuitable. That which once ruled in the waking state, when the 
 psychical life was still young and impotent, appears to be banished 
 to the dream life, in somewhat the same way as the bow and 
 arrow, those discarded, primitive weapons of adult humanity, have 
 been relegated to the nursery." ^^ 
 
 All this experience suggests to us that we draw a 
 parallel between the phantastical, mythological thinking 
 of antiquity and the similar thinking of children, between 
 
28 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 the lower human races and dreams."" This train of 
 thought is not a strange one for us, but quite familiar 
 through our knowledge of comparative anatomy and the 
 history of development, which show us how the structure 
 and function of the human body are the results of a series 
 of embryonic changes which correspond to similar 
 changes in the history of the race. Therefore, the sup- 
 position is justified that ontogenesis corresponds in 
 psychology to phylogenesis. Consequently, it would 
 be true, as well, that the state of infantile thinking in the 
 child's psychic life, as well as in dreams, is nothing but a 
 re-echo of the prehistoric and the ancient."^ 
 
 In regard to this, Nietzsche takes a very broad and re- 
 markable standpoint."^ 
 
 " In our sleep and in our dreams we pass through the whole 
 thought of earlier humanity. I mean, in the same way that man 
 reasons in his dreams, he reasoned when in the waking state many 
 thousands of years. The first cousa which occurred to his mind in 
 reference to anything that needed explanation, satisfied him and 
 passed for truth. In the dream this atavistic relic of humanity 
 manifests its existence within us, for it is the foundation upon 
 which the higher rational faculty developed, and which is still 
 developing in every individual. The d ream carries us b ack into 
 earlier states of human culture, an"3"af?ords us a means of under- 
 standing it better. The dream thought is so easy to us now, 
 because we are so thoroughly trained to it through the interminable 
 stages of evolution during which this phantastic and facile form 
 ^•of theorizing has prevailed. To a certain extent the dream is 
 I a restorative for the brain, which during the day is called upon 
 / to meet the severe demands for trained thought, made by the 
 I conditions of a higher civilization. 
 
 ' "' From these facts, we can understand how lately more acute 
 logical thinking, the taking seriously of cause and effect, has been 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 29 
 
 developed ; when our functions of reason and intelligence still reach 
 back involuntarily to those primitive forms of conclusion, and we 
 live about half our lives in this condition." 
 
 We have already seen that Freud, independently of 
 Nietzsche, has reached a similar standpoint from the 
 basis of dream analysis. The step from this established 
 proposition to the perception of the myths as familiar 
 dream Images is no longer a great one. Freud has formu- 
 lated this conclusion himself.-^ 
 
 " The investigation of this folk-psychologic formation, myths, 
 etc., is by no means finished at present. To take an example of 
 this, however, it is probable that the myths correspond to the 
 distorted residue of wish phantasies of whole nations, the secular- 
 ized dreams of young humanity." 
 
 Rank "* understands the myths in a similiar manner, as 
 a mass dream of the people. ^^ Riklin -" has insisted 
 rightly upon the dream mechanism of the fables, and 
 Abraham" has done the same for the myths. He says: 
 
 " The myth is a fragment of the infantile soul-life of the people." 
 
 and 
 
 " Thus the myth is a sustained, still remaining fragment from 
 the infantile soul-life of the people, and the dream is the myth 
 of the individual." 
 
 An unprejudiced reading of the above-mentioned 
 authors will certainly allay all doubts concerning the 
 intimate connection between dream psychology and myth 
 psychology. The conclusion results almost from itself, 
 that the age which created the myths thought childishly — 
 
30 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 that Is to say, phantastically, as in our age is still done, 
 to a very great extent (associatlvely or analogically) in 
 dreams. The beginnings of myth formations (in the 
 child), the taking of phantasies for realities, which is 
 partly in accord with the historical, may easily be dis- 
 covered among children. 
 
 One might raise the objection that the mythological 
 inclinations of children are implanted by education. The 
 objection is futile. Has humanity at all ever broken 
 loose from the myths? Every man has eyes and all his 
 senses to perceive that the world is dead, cold and un- 
 ending, and he has never yet seen a God, nor brought to 
 light the existence of such from empirical necessity. On 
 the contrary, there was need of a phantastic, indestruc- 
 tible optimism, and one far removed from all sense of 
 reality, in order, for example, to discover in the shameful 
 death of Christ really the highest salvation and the re- 
 demption of the world. Thus one can indeed withhold 
 from a child the substance of earlier myths but not take 
 from him the need for mythology. One can say, that 
 should It happen that all traditions in the world were cut 
 off with a single blow, then with the succeeding genera- 
 tion, the whole mythology and history of religion would 
 start over again. Only a few individuals succeed in 
 throwing off mythology in a time of a certain intellectual 
 supremacy — the mass never frees itself. Explanations 
 are of no avail; they merely destroy a transitory form 
 of manifestation, but not the creating impulse. 
 
 Let us again take up our earlier train of thought. 
 
 We spoke of the ontogenetic re-echo of the phylo- 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 31 
 
 genetic psychology among children, we saw that phan- 
 tastic thinking is a characteristic of antiquity, of the child, 
 and of the lower races ; but now we know also that our 
 modern and adult man is given over in large part to 
 this same phantastic thinking, v.'hich enters as soon as the 
 directed thinking ceases. A lessening of the interest, a 
 slight fatigue, is sufficient to put an end to the directed 
 thinking, the exact psychological adaptation to the real 
 world, and to replace it with phantasies. We digress 
 from the theme and give way to our own trains of 
 thought; if the slackening of the attention increases, then 
 we lose by degrees the consciousness of the present, and 
 the phantasy enters into possession of the field. 
 
 Here the important question obtrudes itself: How are 
 phantasies created? From the poets we learn much about 
 it; from science we learn little. The psychoanalytic 
 method, presented to science by Freud, shed light upon 
 this for the first time. It showed us that there are 
 typical cycles. The stutterer imagines he is a great 
 orator. The truth of this, Demosthenes, thanks to his 
 energy, has proven. The poor man imagines himself to 
 be a millionaire, the child an adult. The conquered fight 
 out victorious battles with the conquerer; the unfit tor- 
 ments or delights himself with ambitious plans. W^e 
 imagine that which we lack. The interesting question of 
 the " why " of all this we must here leave unanswered, 
 while we return to the historic problem: From what 
 source do the phantasies draw their materials?"^ We 
 chose, as an example, a typical phantasy of puberty. A 
 child in that stage before whom the whole frightening 
 
32 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 uncertainty of the future fate opens, puts back the uncer- 
 tainty into the past, through his phantasy, and says, " If 
 only I were not the child of my ordinary parents, but 
 the child of a rich and fashionable count, and had been 
 merely passed over to my parents, then some day a golden 
 coach would come, and the count would take his child 
 back with him to his wonderful castle," and so it goes 
 on, as in Grimm's Fairy Tales which the mother tells to 
 her children.-'' With a normal child, it stops with the 
 fugitive, quickly-passing idea which is soon covered over 
 and forgotten. However, at one time, and that was in 
 the ancient world of culture, the phantasy was an openly 
 acknowledged institution. The heroes, — I recall Romu- 
 lus and Remus, Semiramis, Moses and many others, — 
 have been separated from their real parents.^" Others 
 are directly sons of gods, and the noble races derive their 
 family trees from heroes and gods. As one sees by this 
 example, the phantasy of modern humanity is nothing but 
 a re-echo of an old-folk-belief, which was very wide- 
 spread orlginally.^^ The ambitious phantasy chooses, 
 among others, a form which is classic, and which once 
 had a true meaning. The same thing holds good in 
 regard to the sexual phantasy. In the preamble we have 
 spoken of dreams of sexual assault: the robber who 
 breaks into the house and commits a dangerous act. 
 That, too, is a mythological theme, and in the prehistoric 
 era was certainly a reality too.^^ Wholly apart from the 
 fact that the capture of women was something general 
 in the lawless prehistoric times, it was also a subject of 
 mythology In cultivated epochs. I recall the capture of 
 
\ CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 33 
 
 Proserpina, Deianira, Europa, the Sabine women, etc. 
 We must not forget that, even today, marriage customs 
 exist in various regions which recall the ancient custom 
 of marriage by capture. 
 
 The symbolism of the instrument of coitus was an in- 
 exhaustible material for ancient phantasy. It furnished 
 a widespread cult that was designated phallic, the object 
 of reverence of which was the phallus. The companion 
 of Dionysus was Phales, a personification of the phallus 
 proceeding from the phallic Herme of Dionysus. The 
 phallic symbols were countless. Among the Sabines, the 
 custom existed for the bridegroom to part the bride's 
 hair with a lance. The bird, the fish and the snake were 
 phallic symbols. In addition, there existed in enormous 
 quantities theriomorphic representations of the sexual 
 instinct, in connection with which the bull, the he-goat, 
 the ram, the boar and the ass were frequently used. An 
 undercurrent to this choice of symbol was furnished by 
 the sodomitic inclination of humanity. When in the ' 
 dream phantasy of modern man, the feared man is re- 
 placed by an animal, there is recurring in the ontogenetic 
 re-echo the same thing which was openly represented by 
 the ancients countless times. There were he-goats which 
 pursued nymphs, satyrs with she-goats; in still older times 
 in Egypt there even existed a shrine of a goat god, which 
 the Greeks called Pan, where the Hierodules prostituted" 
 themselves with goats. '^^ It is well known that this wor- 
 ship has not died out, but continues to live as a special 
 custom in South Italy and Greece.^* 
 
 Today we feel for such a thing nothing but the deepest 
 
34 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 abhorrence, and never would admit it still slumbered in 
 our souls. Nevertheless, just as truly as the idea of the 
 sexual assault is there, so are these things there too ; vv^hich 
 we should contemplate still more closely, — not through 
 moral eye-glasses, with horror, but with interest as a 
 natural science, since these things are venerable relics of 
 past culture periods. We have, even today, a clause in 
 our penal code against sodomy. But that which was once 
 so strong as to give rise to a worship among a highly 
 developed people has probably not wholly disappeared 
 from the human soul during the course of a few genera- 
 tions. We may not forget that since the symposium of 
 Plato, in which homo-sexuality faces us on the same level 
 with the so-called " normal sexuality," only eighty gen- 
 erations have passed. And what are eighty generations? 
 They shrink to an imperceptible period of time when 
 compared with the space of time which separates us from 
 the homo-Neandertalensis or Heidelbergensis. I might 
 call to mind, in this connection, some choice thoughts of 
 the great historian Guglielmo Ferrero : ^^ 
 
 " It is a very common belief that the further man is separated 
 from the present by time, the more does he differ from us in his 
 thoughts and feelings; that the psychology of humanity changes 
 from century to century, like fashions of literature. Therefore, no 
 sooner do we find in past history an institution, a custom, a law 
 or a belief a little different from those with which we are familiar, 
 than we immediately search for some complex meanings, which 
 fre. uently resolve themselves into phrases of doubtful significance. 
 
 "Indeed, man does not change so quickly; his psychology at 
 bottom remains the same, and even if his culture varies much from 
 one epoch to another, it does not change the functioning of his 
 mind. The fundamental laws of the mind remain the same, at 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 35 
 
 least during the short historical period of which we have knowl- 
 edge, and all phenomena, even the most strange, must be capable 
 of explanation by those common laws of the mind which we can 
 recognize in ourselves." 
 
 The psychologist should accept this viewpoint without 
 reservation as peculiarly applicable to himself. Today, 
 indeed, in our civilization the phallic processions, the 
 Dionysian mysteries of classical Athens, the barefaced 
 Phallic emblems, have disappeared from our coins, 
 houses, temples and streets; so also have the theriomor- 
 phic representations of the Deity been reduced to small 
 remnants, like the Dove of the Holy Ghost, the Lamb of 
 God and the Cock of Peter adorning our church towers. 
 In the same way, the capture and violation of women 
 have shrunken away to crimes. Yet all of this does not 
 affect the fact that we, in childhood, go through a period 
 in which the impulses toward these archaic inclinations 
 appear again and again, and that through all our life we 
 possess, side by side with the newly recruited, directed 
 and adapted thought, a phantastic thought which corre- 
 sponds to the thought of the centuries of antiquity and 
 barbarism. Just as our bodies still keep the reminders 
 of old functions and conditions in many old-fashioned 
 organs, so our minds, too, which apparently have out- 
 grown those archaic tendencies, nevertheless bear the 
 marks of the evolution passed through, and the very 
 ancient re-echoes, at least dreamily, in phantasies. •' 
 
 The symbolism which Freud has discovered, is re- 
 vealed as an expression of a thinking and of an impulse 
 limited to the dream, to wrong conduct, and to derange- 
 
36 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 ments of the mind, which form of thinking and impulse at 
 one time ruled as the mightiest influence in past culture 
 epochs. 
 
 The question of whence comes the inclination and 
 ability which enables the mind to express itself 
 symbolically, brings us to the distinction between the 
 two kinds of thinking — the directed and adapted on 
 one hand, and the subjective, fed by our own egotistic 
 wishes, on the other. The latter form of thinking, 
 presupposing that it were not constantly corrected 
 by the adapted thinking, must necessarily produce an 
 overwhelmingly subjectively distorted idea of the world. 
 We regard this state of mind as infantile. It lies in our 
 individual past, and in the past of mankind. 
 \ With this we affirm the important fact that man in his 
 )hantastic thinking has kept a condensation of the psychic 
 history of his development. An extraordinarily impor- 
 tant task, which even today is hardly possible, is to give a 
 systematic description of phantastic thinking. One may, 
 at the most, sketch it. While directed thinking is a phe- 
 nomenon conscious throughout,^^ the same cannot be as- i 
 serted of phantastic thinking. Doubtless, a great part of , 
 it still falls entirely in the realm of the conscious, but, 
 at least, just as much goes along, in half shadows, and 
 generally an undetermined amount in the unconscious; j 
 and this can, therefore, be disclosed only indirectly." By 
 means of phantastic thinking, directed thinking is con- ' 
 nected with the oldest foundations of the human mind, 
 which have been for a long time beneath the threshold 
 of the consciousness. The products of this phantastic 
 
t 
 
 CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 37 
 
 thinking arising directly from the consciousness are, 
 first, waking dreams, or day-dreams, to which Freud, 
 Flournoy, Pick and others have given special attention; 
 then the dreams which offer to the consciousness, at first, 
 a mysterious exterior, and win meaning only through the 
 indirectly inferred unconscious contents. Lastly, there is 
 a so-called wholly unconscious phantasy system in the 
 split-off complex, which exhibits a pronounced tend- 
 ency towards the production of a dissociated person- 
 ality.^' 
 
 Our foregoing explanations show wherein the products 
 arising from the unconscious are related to the mythical. 
 From all these signs it may be concluded that the soul 
 possesses in some degree historical strata, the oldest 
 stratum of which would correspond to the unconscious. 
 The result of that must be that an introversion occurring 
 in later life, according to the Freudian teaching, seizes 
 upon regressive infantile reminiscences taken from the 
 individual past. That first points out the way; then, with 
 stronger introversion and regression (strong repressions, 
 introversion psychoses), there come to light pronounced 
 traits of an archaic mental kind which, under certain cir- 
 cumstances, might go as far as the re-echo of a once 
 manifest, archaic mental product. 
 
 This problem deserves to be more thoroughly dis- 
 cussed. As a concrete example, let us take the history of 
 the pious Abbe Oegger which Anatole France has com- 
 municated to us.^^ This priest was a hypercritical man, 
 and much given to phantasies, especially in regard to 
 one question, viz., the fate of Judas; whether he was 
 
 I 
 
38 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 really damned, as the teaching of the church asserts, to 
 everlasting punishment, or whether God had pardoned 
 him after all. Oegger sided with the intelligent point of 
 view that God, in his all-wisdom, had chosen Judas as 
 an instrument, in order to bring about the highest point 
 of the work of redemption by Christ.*" This necessary 
 instrument, without the help of which the human race 
 would not have been a sharer in salvation, could not 
 possibly be damned by the all-good God. In order to 
 put an end to his doubts, Oegger went one night to the 
 church, and made supplication for a sign that Judas was 
 saved. Then he felt a heavenly touch upon his shoulder. 
 Following this, Oegger told the Archbishop of his reso- 
 lution to go out into the world to preach God's unending 
 mercy. 
 
 Here we have a richly developed phantasy system be- 
 fore us. It is concerned with the subtle and perpetually 
 undecided question as to whether the legendary figure of 
 Judas is damned or not. The Judas legend is, in itself, 
 mythical material, viz., the malicious betrayal of a hero. 
 I recall Siegfried and Hagen, Balder and Loki. Siegfried 
 and Balder were murdered by a faithless traitor from 
 among their closest associates. This myth is moving and 
 tragic — it is not honorable battle which kills the noble, 
 but evil treachery. It is, too, an occurrence which is his- 
 torical over and over again. One thinks of Caesar and 
 Brutus. Since the myth of such a deed is very old, and 
 still the subject of teaching and repetition, it is the 
 expression of a psychological fact, that env^ does not 
 allow humanity to sleep, and that all of us carry. In a 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 39 
 
 hidden recess of our heart, a deadly wish towards the 
 hero. This rule can be applied generally to mythical 
 tradition. It does not set forth any account of the old 
 events, but rather acts in such a zvay that it always reveals 
 a thought common to humanity, and once more rejuve- 
 nated. Thus, for example, the lives and deeds of the 
 founders of old religions are the purest condensations 
 of typical, contemporaneous myths, behind which the 
 individual figure entirely disappears.*^ 
 
 But why does our pious Abbe torment himself with the 
 old Judas legend? He first went into the world to preach 
 the gospel of mercy, and then, after some time, he 
 separated from the Catholic church and became a Sweden- 
 borglan. Now we understand his Judas phantasy. He 
 was the Judas who betrayed his Lord. Therefore, first 
 of all, he had to make sure of the divine mercy, in order 
 to be Judas in peace. 
 
 This case throws a light upon the mechanism of the 
 phantasies in general. The known, conscious phantasy 
 may be of mythical or other material ; it is not to be taken 
 seriously as such, for It has an indirect meaning. If we 
 take it, however, as important per se, then the thing Is 
 not understandable, and makes one despair of the effi- 
 ciency of the mind. But we saw, in the case of Abbe 
 Oegger, that his doubts and his hopes did not turn upon 
 the historical problem of Judas, but upon his own per- 
 sonality, which wished to win a way to freedom for itself 
 through the solution of the Judas problem. 
 
 The conscious phantasies tell us of mythical or other 
 material of undeveloped or no longer recognized wish 
 
40 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 tendencies in the soul. As is easily to be understood, an 
 innate tendency, an acknowledgment of which one re- 
 fuses to make, and which one treats as non-existent, can 
 hardly contain a thing that may be in accord with our 
 conscious character. It concerns the tendencies which are 
 considered immoral, and as generally impossible, and the 
 strongest resentment is felt towards bringing them into 
 the consciousness. What would Oegger have said had 
 he been told confidentially that he was preparing himself 
 for the Judas role? And what in ourselves do we con- 
 sider immoral and non-existent, or which we at least wish 
 were non-existent? It is that which in antiquity lay wide- 
 spread on the surface, viz., sexuality in all its various 
 manifestations. Therefore, we need not wonder in the 
 least when we find this at the base of most of our phan- 
 tasies, even if the phantasies have a different appearance. 
 Because Oegger found the damnation of Judas incom- 
 patible with God's goodness, he thought about the con- 
 flict in that way; that is the conscious sequence. Along 
 with this is the unconscious sequence; because Oegger 
 himself wished to be a Judas, he first made sure of the 
 goodness of God. To Oegger, Judas was the symbol 
 of his own unconscious tendency, and he made use of this 
 symbol in order to be able to meditate over his uncon- 
 scious wish. The direct coming into consciousness of the; 
 Judas wish would have been too painful for him. Thus, 
 "'^here must he typical myths which are really the instru- 
 ments of a folk-psychological complex treatment/" Jacob 
 Burckhardt seems to have suspected this when he once 
 said that every Greek of the classical era carried in him- 
 
CONCERNING TWO KINDS OF THINKING 41 
 
 self a fragment of the Oedipus, just as every German 
 carries a fragment of Faust.^^ 
 
 The problem which the simple story of the Abbe 
 Oegger has brought clearly before us confronts us again 
 when we prepare to examine phantasies which owe their 
 existence this time to an exclusively unconscious work. 
 We are indebted for the material which we will use in 
 the following chapters to the useful publication of an 
 American woman, Miss Frank Miller, who has given to 
 the world some poetical unconsciously formed phantasies 
 under the title, " Quelque faits d'imagination creatrice 
 subconsciente." — Vol. V., Archives de Psychologies 
 1906.^^ 
 
CHAPTER II 
 THE MILLER PHANTASIES 
 
 We know, from much psychoanalytic experience, that 
 whenever one recounts his phantasies or his dreams, he 
 deals not only with the most Important and Intimate of 
 his problems, but with the one the most painful at that 
 moment/ 
 
 Since In the case of Miss Miller we have to do with a 
 complicated system, we must give our attention carefully 
 to the particulars which I will discuss, following as best 
 I can Miss Miller's presentation. 
 
 In the first chapter, " Phenomenes de suggestion pas- 
 sagere ou d'autosuggestlon Instantanee," Miss Miller 
 gives a list of examples of her unusual suggestibility, 
 which she herself considers as a symptom of her nervous 
 temperament; for example, she Is excessively fond of 
 caviar, whereas some of her relatives loathe It. How- 
 ever, as soon as any one expresses his loathing, she her- 
 self feels momentarily the same loathing. I do not need 
 to emphasize especially the fact that such examples are 
 very Important In Individual psychology; that caviar Is 
 a food for which nervous women frequently have an 
 especial predilection, is a fact well known to the psycho- 
 analysist. 
 
 Miss Miller has an extraordinary faculty for taking 
 
 42 
 
p 
 
 THE MILLER PHANTASIES 43 
 
 other people's feelings upon herself, and of identifica- 
 tion; for example, she identifies herself to such a degree 
 in " Cyrano " with the wounded Christian de Neuvillette, 
 that she feels in her own breast a truly piercing pain at 
 that place where Christian received the deadly blow. 
 
 From the viewpoint of analytic psychology, the theatre, 
 aside from any esthetic value, may be considered as an 
 institution for the treatment of the mass complex. The 
 enjoyment of the comedy, or of the dramatic plot ending 
 happily is produced by an unreserved identification of 
 one's own complexes with the play. The enjoyment of 
 tragedy lies in the thrilling yet satisfactory feeling that 
 something which might occur to one's self is happening 
 to another. The sympathy of our author with the dying 
 Christian means that there is in her a complex awaiting 
 a similar solution, which whispers softly to her " hodie 
 tibi, eras mihi," and that one may know exactly what is 
 considered the effectual moment Miss Miller adds that 
 she felt a pain in her breast, " Lorsque Sarah Bernhardt 
 se precipite sur lui pour etancher le sang de sa blessure." 
 Therefore the effectual moment is when the love between 
 Christian and Roxane comes to a sudden end. 
 
 If we glance over the whole of Rostand's play, we 
 come upon certain moments, the effect of which one can- 
 not easily escape and which we will emphasize here be- 
 cause they have meaning for all that follows. Cyrano de 
 Bergerac, with the long ugly nose, on account of which 
 he undertakes countless duels, loves Roxane, who, for 
 her part unaware of it, loves Christian, because of the 
 beautiful verses which really originate from Cyrano's 
 
44 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 pen, but which apparently come from Christian. Cyrano 
 is the misunderstood one, whose passionate love and 
 noble soul no one suspects; the hero who sacrifices him- 
 self for others, and, dying, just in the evening of life, 
 reads to her once more Christian's last letter, the verses 
 which he himself had composed. 
 
 " Roxane, adieu, je vais mourir! 
 C'est pour ce soir, je crois, 'ma bien-aimee! 
 J'ai Tame lourde encore d'amour inexprime. 
 Et je meurs! Jamais plus, jamais mes j'eux grises, 
 Mes regards dont c'etait les fremissantes fetes, 
 Ne baiseront au vol les gestes que vous faites; 
 J'en revois un petit qui vous est familier 
 Pour toucher votre front et je voudrais crier — . 
 
 Et je crie: 
 Adieu! — Ma chere, ma cherie, 
 Mon tresor — mon amour ! 
 Mon coeur ne vous quitta jamais une seconde, 
 Et je suis et je serai jusque dans I'autre monde 
 Celui qui vous aime sans mesure, celui — " 
 
 Whereupon Roxane recognizes in him the real loved 
 one. It is already too late; death comes; and in agonized 
 delirium, Cyrano raises himself, and draws his sword: 
 
 " Je crois, qu'elle regarde. . . . 
 Qu'elle ose regarder mon nez, la camarde! 
 
 (II leve son epee.) 
 Que dites-vous? . . . C'est inutile! 
 
 Je le sais! 
 Mais on ne se bat pas dans I'espoir du succes! 
 Non! Non! C'est bien plus beau, lorsque c'est inutile! 
 — Qu'est-ce que c'est que tous ceux-la? — Vous etes mille? 
 Ah! je vous reconnais, tous mes vieux ennemis! 
 Le mensonge! 
 
 (II frappe de son epee le vide.) 
 
THE MILLER PHANTASIES 45 
 
 Tiens, tiens, ha! ha! les Compromis, 
 Les Prejuges, les Lachetes! . . . 
 
 (II frappe.) 
 Que je pactise? 
 Jamais, jamais! — Ah, te voila, toi, la Sottise! 
 — Je sais bien qu'a la fin vous me mettrez a has; 
 N'importe: je me bats! je me bats! je me bats! 
 Oui, vous m'arrachez tout, le laurier et la rose! 
 Arrachez! II y a malgre vous quelque chose 
 Que j'emporte, et ce soir, quand j'entrerai chez Dieu, 
 Mon salut balaiera largement le seuil bleu. 
 Quelque chose que sans un pli, sans une tache, 
 J'emporte malgre vous, et c'est — mon panache." 
 
 Cyrano, who under the hateful exterior of his body 
 hid a soul so much more beautiful, is a yearner and one 
 misunderstood, and his last triumph is that he departs, 
 at least, with a clean shield — ^" Sans un pli et sans une 
 tache." The identification of the author with the dying 
 Christian, who in himself is a figure but little impressive 
 and sympathetic, expresses clearly that a sudden end is 
 destined for her love just as for Christian's love. The 
 tragic intermezzo with Christian, however, is played as 
 we have seen upon a background of much wider signifi- 
 cance, viz., the misunderstood love of Cyrano for 
 Roxane. Therefore, the identification with Christian 
 has only the significance of a substitute memory (" deck- 
 erinnerung ") , and is really intended for Cyrano. That 
 this is just what we might expect will be seen in the 
 further course of our analysis. 
 
 Besides this story of identification with Christian, there 
 follows as a further example an extraordinarily plastic 
 
46 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 memory of the sea, evoked by the sight of a photograph of 
 a steamboat on the high seas. (" Je sentis les pulsations 
 des machines, le soulevement des vagues, le balancement 
 du navire.") 
 
 We may mention here the supposition that there are 
 connected with sea journeys particularly impressive and 
 strong memories which penetrate deeply into the soul 
 and give an especially strong character to the surface 
 memories through unconscious harmony. To what extent 
 the memories assumed here agree with the above men- 
 tioned problem we shall see in the following pages. 
 
 This example, following at this time, is singular : Once, 
 while in bathing, Miss Miller wound a towel around her 
 hair, in order to protect it from a wetting. At the same 
 moment she had the following strong impression: 
 
 " II me sembla que j'etais sur un piedestal, une veritable statue 
 egyptienne, avec tous ses details: membres raides, un pied en 
 avant, la main tenant des insignes," and so on. 
 
 Miss Miller identified herself, therefore, with an Egyp- 
 tian statue, and naturally the foundation for this was 
 a subjective pretension. That is to say, " I am like an 
 Egyptian statue, just as stiff, wooden, sublime and Im- 
 passive," qualities for which the Egyptian statue is pro- 
 verbial. One does not make such an assertion to one's 
 self without an inner compulsion, and the correct formula 
 might just as well be, " as stiff, wooden, etc., as an Egyp- 
 tian statue I might indeed be." The sight of one's own 
 unclothed body in a bath has undeniable effects for the 
 phantasy, which can be set at rest by the above formula.^ 
 
THE MILLER PHANTASIES 47 
 
 The example which follows this, emphasizes the 
 author's personal influence upon an artist: 
 
 " J'ai reussi a lui faire rendre des paysages, comme ceux du 
 lac Leman, ou il n'a jamais ete, et il pretendait que je pouvais 
 lui faire rendre des choses qu'il n'avait jamais vues, et lui dormer 
 la sensation d'une atmosphere ambiante qu'il n'avait jamais sentie; 
 bref que je me servais de lui comme lui-meme se servait de son 
 crayon, c'est a dire comme d'un simple instrument." 
 
 This observation stands in abrupt contrast to the phan- 
 tasy of the Egyptian statue. Miss Miller had here the 
 unspoken need of emphasizing her almost magic effect 
 upon another person. This could not have happened, 
 either, without an unconscious need, which is particularly 
 felt by one who does not often succeed in making an 
 emotional impression upon a fellow being. 
 
 With that, the list of examples which are to picture 
 Miss Miller's autosuggestibility and suggestive effect, is 
 exhausted. In this respect, the examples are neither 
 especially striking nor interesting. From an analytical 
 viewpoint, on the contrary, they are much more impor- 
 tant, since they afford us a glance into the soul of the 
 writer. Ferenczi" has taught us in an excellent work 
 what is to be thought about suggestibility, that is to say, 
 that these phenomena win new aspects in the light of the 
 Freudian libido theory, in so much as their effects be- 
 come clear through " Libido-besetzungen." This was al- 
 ready indicated above in the discussion of the examples, 
 and in the greatest detail regarding the identification 
 with Christian. The identification becomes effective by 
 its receiving an influx of energy from the strongly accen- 
 
48 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 tuated thought and emotional feeling underlying the 
 Christian motif. Just the reverse is the suggestive effect 
 of the individual In an especial capacity for concentrating 
 interest (that is to say, libido) upon another person, by 
 which the other is unconsciously compelled to reaction 
 (the same or opposed). The majority of the examples 
 concern cases where Miss Miller Is put under the effects 
 of suggestion; that is to say, when the libido has spon- 
 taneously gained possession of certain impressions, and 
 this is Impossible If the libido is dammed up to an un- 
 usual degree by the lack of application to reality. Miss 
 Miller's observations about suggestibility Inform us, 
 therefore, of the fact that the author is pleased to tell 
 us In her following phantasies something of the history 
 of her love. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 THE HYMN OF CREATION 
 
 The second chapter in Miss Miller's work is entitled, 
 " Gloire a Dieu. Poeme onirique." 
 
 When twenty years of age, Miss Miller took a long 
 journey through Europe. We leave the description of it 
 to her: 
 
 " After a long and rough journey from New York to Stock- 
 holm, from there to Petersburg and Odessa, I found it a true 
 pleasure ^ to leave the world of inhabited cities — and to enter 
 the world of waves, sky and silence — I stayed hours long on deck 
 to dream, stretched out in a reclining chair. The histories, legends 
 and myths of the different countries which I saw in the distance, 
 came back to me indistinctly blended together in a sort of 
 luminous mist, in which things lost their reality, while the dreams 
 and thoughts alone took on somewhat the appearance of reality. 
 At first, I even avoided all company and kept to myself, lost 
 wholly in my dreams, where all that I knew of great, beautiful 
 and good came back into my consciousness with new strength and 
 new life. I also employed a great part of my time writing to my 
 distant friends, reading and sketching out short poems about the 
 regions visited. Some of these poems were of a very serious 
 character." 
 
 It may seem superfluous, perhaps, to enter intimately 
 into all these details. If we recall, however, the remark 
 made above, — that when people let their unconscious 
 speak, they always tell us the most important things of 
 
 49 
 
■50 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 their intimate selves — then even the smallest detail ap- 
 pears to have meaning. Valuable personalities invariably 
 tell us, through their unconscious, things that are gener- 
 ally valuable, so that patient interest is rewarded. 
 
 Miss Miller describes here a state of " introversion." 
 After the life of the cities with their many impressions 
 had been absorbing her interest (with that already dis- 
 cussed strength of suggestion which powerfully enforced 
 the impression) she breathed freely upon the ocean, and 
 after so many external impressions, became engrossed 
 wholly in the internal with intentional abstraction from 
 the surroundings, so that things lost their reality and 
 dreams became truth. We know from psychopathology 
 that certain mental disturbances ■ exist which are first 
 manifested by the individuals shutting themselves off 
 slowly, more and more, from reality and sinking into 
 their phantasies, during which process, in proportion as 
 the reality loses its hold, the inner world gains in reality 
 and determining power. ^ This process leads to a certain 
 point (which varies with the individual) when the pa- 
 tients suddenly become more or less conscious of their 
 separation from reality. The event which then enters 
 is the pathological excitation: that is to say, the patients 
 begin to turn towards the environment, with diseased 
 views (to be sure) which, however, still represent the 
 compensating, although unsuccessful, attempt at trans- 
 ference.* The methods of reaction are, naturally, very 
 different. I will not concern myself more closely about 
 this here. 
 
 This type appears to be generally a psychological rule 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 51 
 
 which holds good for all neuroses and, therefore, also 
 for the normal in a much less degree. We might, there- 
 fore, expect that Miss Miller, after this energetic and per- 
 severing introversion, which had even encroached for a 
 time upon the feeling of reality, would succumb anew to 
 an impression of the real world and also to just as sug- 
 gestive and energetic an influence as that of her dreams. 
 Let us proceed with the narrative : 
 
 " But as the journey drew to an end, the ship's officers outdid 
 themselves in kindness (tout ce qu'il y a de plus empresse et de plus 
 aimable) and I passed many amusing hours teaching them English. 
 On the Sicilian coast, in the harbor of Catania, I wrote a sailor's 
 song which was very similar to a song well known on the sea, 
 (Brine, wine and damsels fine). The Italians in general all sing 
 very well, and one of the officers who sang on deck during night 
 watch, had made a great impression upon me and had given me 
 the idea of writing some words adapted to his melody. Soon 
 after that, I was very nearly obliged to reverse the well-known 
 saying, ' Veder Napoli e poi morir,' — that is to say, suddenly I 
 became very ill, although not dangerously so. I recovered to 
 such an extent, however, that I could go on land to visit the 
 sights of the city in a carriage. This day tired me very much, 
 and since we had planned to see Pisa the following day, I went 
 on board early in the evening and soon lay down to sleep without 
 thinking of anything more serious than the beauty of the officers 
 and the ugliness of the Italian beggars." 
 
 One is somewhat disappointed at meeting here, Instead 
 of the expected impression of reality, rather a small inter- 
 mezzo, a flirtation. Nevertheless, one of the officers, 
 the singer, had made a great impression (il m'avait fait 
 beaucoup d'impression) . The remark at the close of the 
 description, " sans songer a rien de plus serieux qu'a la 
 
52 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 beaute des officiers,' and so on, diminishes the seriousness 
 of the impression, it is true. The assumption, however, 
 that the impression openly influenced the mood very 
 much, is supported by the fact that a poem upon a subject 
 of such an erotic character came forth immediately, 
 " Brine, wine and damsels fine," and in the singer's honor. 
 One is only too easily inclined to take such an impression 
 lightly, and one admits so gladly the statements of the 
 participators when they represent everything as simple 
 and not at all serious. I dwell upon this impression at 
 length, because it is important to know that an erotic im- 
 pression after such an introversion, has a deep effect and 
 is undervalued, possibly, by Miss Miller. The suddenly 
 passing sickness is obscure and needs a psychologic inter- 
 pretation which cannot be touched upon here because of 
 lack of data. The phenomena now to be described can 
 only be explained as arising from a disturbance which 
 reaches to the very depths of her being. 
 
 " From Naples to Livorno, the ship travelled for a night, 
 during which I slept more or less well, — my sleep, however, is 
 seldom deep or dreamless. It seemed to me as if my mother's 
 voice wakened me, just at the end of the following dream. At 
 first I had a vague conception of the words, ' When the morning 
 stars sang together,' which were the praeludium of a certain con- 
 fused representation of creation and of the mighty chorals re- 
 sounding through the universe. In spite of the strange, contra- 
 dictory and confused character which is peculiar to the dream, 
 there was mingled in it the chorus of an oratorio which has been 
 given by one of the foremost musical societies of New York, and 
 with that were also memories of Milton's * Paradise Lost.' Then 
 from out of this whirl, there slowly emerged certain words, which 
 arranged themselves into three strophes and, indeed, they seemed 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 53 
 
 to be in my own handwriting on ordinary blue-lined writing paper 
 on a page of my old poetry book which I always carried around with 
 me; in short, they appeared to me exactly as some minutes later 
 they were in reality in my book." 
 
 Miss Miller now wrote down the following poem, 
 which she rearranged somewhat a few months later, to 
 make it more nearly, in her opinion, like the dream 
 original. 
 
 " When the Eternal first made Sound 
 A myriad ears sprang out to hear, 
 And throughout all the Universe 
 There rolled an echo deep and clear: 
 All glory to the God of Sound! 
 
 " When the Eternal first made Light 
 A myriad eyes sprang out to look, 
 And hearing ears and seeing eyes 
 Once more a mighty choral took : 
 All glory to the God of Light! 
 
 " When the Eternal first gave Love 
 A myriad hearts sprang into life; 
 Ears filled with music, eyes with light; 
 Pealed forth with hearts with love all rife: 
 All glory to the God of Love! " 
 
 Before we enter upon Miss Miller's attempt to bring 
 to light through her suppositions ^ the root of this sub- 
 liminal creation, we will attempt a short analytic survey 
 of the material already in our possession. The impres- 
 sion on the ship has already been properly emphasized, 
 so that we need have no further difficulty in gaining pos- 
 session of the dynamic process which brought about this 
 poetical revelation. It was made clear in the preceding 
 
54 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 paragraphs that Miss Miller possibly had not Inconsid- 
 erably undervalued the Importance of the erotic Impres- 
 sion. This assumption gains in probability through ex- 
 perience, which shows that, very generally, relatively 
 weak erotic Impressions are greatly undervalued. One 
 can see this best in cases where those concerned, either 
 from social or moral grounds, consider an erotic relation 
 as something quite impossible; for example, parents and 
 children, brothers and sisters, relations (homosexual) 
 between older and younger men, and so on. If the Im- 
 pression Is relatively slight, then it does not exist at all 
 for the participators; If the impression is strong, then a 
 tragic dependence arises, which may result in some great 
 nonsense, or be carried to any extent. This lack of under- 
 standing can go unbelievably far; mothers, who see the 
 first erections of the small son in their own bed, a sister 
 who half-playfully embraces her brother, a twenty-year- 
 old daughter who still seats herself on her father's lap, 
 and then has " strange " sensations In her " abdomen." 
 They are all morally indignant to the highest degree if 
 one speaks of " sexuality." Finally, our whole education 
 is carried on with the tacit agreement to know as little 
 as possible of the erotic, and to spread abroad the deepest 
 Ignorance In regard to It. It is no wonder, therefore, 
 that the judgment, in piincto, of the importance of an 
 erotic Impression Is generally unsafe and inadequate. 
 
 Miss Miller was under the influence of a deep erotic 
 impression, as we have seen. Because of the sum-total 
 of the feelings aroused by this. It does not seem that this 
 impression was more than dimly realized, for the dream 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 55 
 
 had to contain a powerful repetition. From analytic ex- 
 perience, one knows that the early dreams which patients 
 bring for analysis are none the less of especial interest, 
 because of the fact that they bring out criticisms and 
 valuations of the physician's personality, which previ- 
 ously, would have been asked for directly in vain. They 
 enrich the conscious impression which the patient had of 
 his physician, and often concerning very important points. 
 They are naturally erotic observations which the uncon- 
 scious was forced to make, just because of the quite uni- 
 versal undervaluation and uncertain judgment of the 
 relatively weak erotic impression. In the drastic and 
 hyperbolic manner of expression of the dream, the impres- 
 sion often appears in almost unintelligible form on account 
 of the immeasurable dimension of the symbol. A further 
 peculiarity which seems to rest upon the historic strata of 
 the unconscious, is this — that an erotic impression, to 
 which conscious acknowledgment is denied, usurps an 
 earlier and discarded transference and expresses itself 
 in that. Therefore, it frequently happens, for example, 
 that among young girls at the time of their first love, 
 remarkable difficulties develop in the capacity for erotic 
 expression, which may be reduced analytically to disturb- 
 ances through a regressive attempt at resuscitation of 
 the father image, or the " Father-Imago." ^ 
 
 Indeed, one might presume something similar in Miss 
 Miller's case, for the idea of the masculine creative deity 
 is a derivation, analytically and historically psychologic, 
 of the " Father-Imago," ^ and aims, above all, to replace 
 the discarded infantile father transference in such a way 
 
56 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 that for the individual the passing from the narrow circle 
 of the family into the wider circle of human society may 
 be simpler or made easier. 
 
 In the light of this reflection, we can see, in the poem 
 and its " Praeludium," the religious, poetically formed 
 product of an introversion depending upon the surrogate 
 of the " Father-Imago." In spite of the incomplete ap- 
 perception of the effectual impression, essential compo- 
 nent parts of this are included in the idea of compensa- 
 tion, as marks, so to speak, of its origin. (Pfister has 
 coined for this the striking expression, " Law of the Re- 
 turn of the Complex.") The effectual impression was 
 that of the officer singing in the night watch, " When the 
 morning stars sang together." The idea of this opened 
 a new world to the girl. (Creation.) 
 
 This creator has created tone, then light, and then 
 love. That the first to be created should have been tone, 
 can be made clear only individually, for there is no cos- 
 mogony except the Gnosis of Hermes, a generally quite 
 unknown system, which would have such tendencies. But 
 now we might venture a conjecture, which is already ap- 
 parent, and which soon will be proven thoroughly, viz., 
 the following chain of associations : the singer — the sing- 
 ing morning stars — the God of tone — the Creator — the 
 God of Light — (of the sun) — (of the fire) — and of Love. 
 
 The links of this chain are proven by the material, with 
 the exception of sun and fire, which I put in parentheses, 
 but which, however, will be proven through what follows 
 in the further course of the analysis. All of these express 
 sions, with one exception, belong to erotic speech. (" My 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 57 
 
 God, star, light; my sun, fire of love, fiery love," etc.) 
 " Creator " appears indistinct at first, but becomes under- 
 standable through the reference to the undertone of Eros, 
 to the vibrating chord of Nature, which attempts to renew 
 itself In every pair of lovers, and awaits the wonder of 
 creation. 
 
 Miss Miller had taken pains to disclose the unconscious 
 creation of her mind to her understanding, and, indeed 
 through a procedure which agrees in principle with 
 psychoanalysis, and, therefore, leads to the same results 
 as psychoanalysis. But, as usually happens with laymen 
 and beginners. Miss Miller, because she had no knowl- 
 edge of psychoanalysis, left off at the thoughts which 
 necessarily bring the deep complex lying at the bottom 
 of it to light in an indirect, that is to say, censored man- 
 ner. More than this, a simple method, merely the carry- 
 ing out of the thought to its conclusion, is sufficient to dis- 
 cover the meaning. Miss Miller finds it astonishing that 
 her unconscious phantasy does not, following the Mosaic 
 account of creation, put light in the first place, instead of 
 tone. 
 
 Now follows an explanation, theoretically constructed 
 and correct ad hoc, the hollowness of which is, however, 
 characteristic of all similar attempts at explanation. She 
 says : 
 
 " It is perhaps interesting to recall that Anaxagoras also had 
 the Cosmos arise out of chaos through a sort of whirlwind, which 
 does not happen usually without producing sound.* But at this 
 time I had studied no philosophy, and knew nothing either of 
 Anaxagoras or of his theories about the 'rov?,* which I, uncon- 
 sciously, was openly following. At that time, also, I was equally 
 
58 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 in complete ignorance of Leibnitz, and, therefore, knew nothing 
 of his doctrine ' dum Deus calculat, fit mundus.' " 
 
 Miss Miller's references to Anaxagoras and to Leib- 
 nitz both refer to creation by means of thought; that is 
 to say, that divine thought alone could bring forth a new 
 material reality, a reference at first not intelligible, but 
 which will soon, however, be more easily understood. 
 
 We now come to those fancies from which Miss Miller 
 principally drew her unconscious creation. 
 
 " In the first place, there is the ' Paradise Lost ' by Milton, 
 which we had at home in the edition illustrated by Dore, and 
 which had often delighted me from childhood. Then the ' Book 
 of Job,' which had been read aloud to me since the time of my 
 earliest recollection. Moreover, if one compares the first words 
 of ' Paradise Lost ' with my first verse, one notices that there 
 is the same verse measure. 
 
 " ' Of man's first disobedience . . . 
 
 " ' When the Eternal first made sound.' 
 
 " My poem also recalls various passages in Job, and one or two 
 places in Handel's Oratorio ' The Creation,' which came out 
 very indistinctly in the first part of the dream." ^ 
 
 The " Lost Paradise " which, as is well known, is so 
 closely connected with the beginning of the world, is 
 made more clearly evident by the verse — 
 
 " Of man's first disobedience " 
 which is concerned evidently with the fall, the meaning 
 of which need not be shown any further. I know the 
 objection which every one unacquainted with psycho- 
 analysis will raise, viz., that Miss Miller might just as 
 well have chosen any other verse as an example, and that, 
 accidentally, she had taken the first one that happened 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 59 
 
 to appear which had this content, also accidentally. As 
 is well known, the criticism which we hear equally from 
 our medical colleagues, and from our patients, is gener- 
 ally based on such arguments. This misunderstanding 
 arises from the fact that the law of causation in the 
 psychical sphere is not taken seriously enough; that is to 
 say, there are no accidents, no " just as wells." It is so, 
 and there is, therefore, a sufficient reason at hand why 
 it is so. It is moreover true that Miss Miller's poem is 
 connected with the fall, wherein just that erotic compo- 
 nent comes forth, the existence of which we have surmised 
 above. 
 
 Miss Miller neglects to tell which passages in Job 
 occurred to her mind. These, unfortunately, are there- 
 fore only general suppositions. Take first, the analogy 
 to the Lost Paradise. Job lost all that he had, and this 
 was due to an act of Satan, who wished to incite him 
 against God. In the same way mankind, through the 
 temptation of the serpent, lost Paradise, and was plunged 
 into earth's torments. The idea, or rather the mood 
 which is expressed by the reference to the Lost Paradise, 
 is Miss Miller's feeling that she had lost something 
 which was connected with satanic temptation. To her it 
 happened, just as to Job, that she suffered innocently, for 
 she did not fall a victim to temptation. Job's sufferings 
 are not understood by his friends;^" no one knows that 
 Satan has taken a hand in the game, and that Job is truly 
 innocent. Job never tires of avowing his innocence. Is 
 there a hint in that? We know that certain neurotic and 
 especially mentally diseased people continually defend 
 
6o PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 their innocence against non-existent attacks ; however, one 
 discovers at a closer examination that the patient, while 
 he apparently defends his innocence without reason, fulfils 
 with that a " Deckhandlung," the energy for which arises 
 from just those impulses, whose sinful character is re- 
 vealed by the contents of the pretended reproach and 
 calumny." 
 
 Job suffered doubly, on one side through the loss of his 
 fortune, on the other through the lack of understanding 
 in his friends ; the latter can be seen throughout the book. 
 The suffering of the misunderstood recalls the figure of 
 Cyrano de Bergerac — he too suffered doubly, on one side 
 through hopeless love, on the other side through mis- 
 understanding. He falls, as we have seen, in the last hope- 
 less battle against " Le Mensonge, les Compromis, les 
 Prejuges, les Lachetes et la Sottise. — Qui, Vous m'ar- 
 rachez tout le laurier et la rose ! " 
 
 Job laments 
 
 " God delivereth me to the ungodly, 
 And casteth me into the hands of the wicked, 
 I was at ease, and he brake me asunder ; 
 Yea, he hath taken me by the neck, and dashed me to pieces: 
 
 "He hath also set me up for his mark. 
 His archers compass me round about; 
 He cleaveth my reins asunder, and doth not spare; 
 He poureth out my gall upon the ground. 
 He breaketh me with breach upon breach; 
 He runneth upon me like a giant." — Job xvi: 11-15. 
 
 The analogy of feeling lies in the suffering of the hope- 
 less struggle against the more powerful. It is as if this 
 conflict were accompanied from afar by the sounds of 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 6i 
 
 " creation," which brings up a beautiful and mysterious 
 image belonging to the unconscious, and which has not 
 yet forced its way up to the light of the upper world. 
 We surmise, rather than know, that this battle has really 
 something to do with creation, with the struggles between 
 negations and affirmations. The references to Rostand's 
 " Cyrano " through the identification with Christian, to 
 Milton's " Paradise Lost," to the sorrows of Job, mis- 
 understood by his friends, betray plainly that in the soul 
 of the poet something was identified with these ideas. She 
 also has suffered like Cyrano and Job, has lost paradise, 
 and dreams of " creation," — creation by means of thought 
 — fruition through the whirlwind of Anaxagoras.^^ 
 
 We once more submit ourselves to Miss Miller's 
 guidance : 
 
 " I remember that when fifteen years old, I was once very 
 much stirred up over an article, read aloud to me by my mother, 
 concerning the idea which spontaneously produced its object. I 
 was so excited that I could not sleep all night because of thinking 
 over and over again what that could mean. 
 
 " From the age of nine to sixteen, I went every Sunday to a 
 Presbyterian Church, in charge of which, at that time, was a very 
 cultured minister. In one of the earliest memories which I have 
 retained of him, I see mj'self as a very small girl sitting in a 
 very large pew, continually endeavoring to keep myself awake and 
 pay attention, without in the least being able to understand 
 what he meant when he spoke to us of Chaos, Cosmos and the 
 Gift of Love (don d'amour)." 
 
 There are also rather early memories of the awaken- 
 ing of puberty (nine to sixteen) which have connected 
 the idea of the cosmos springing from chaos with the 
 
62 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 " don d'amour." The medium In which these associations 
 occur is the memory of a certain very much honored 
 ecclesiastic who spoke those dark words. From the same 
 period of time comes the remembrance of that excitement 
 about the idea of the " creative thought " which from 
 itself " produced its object." Here are two ways of crea- 
 tion intimated: the creative thought, and the mysterious 
 reference to the " don d'amour." 
 
 At the time when I had not yet understood the nature 
 of psychoanalysis, I had a fortunate opportunity of win- 
 ning through continual observation a deep insight into 
 the soul of a fifteen-year-old girl. Then I discovered, 
 with astonishment, what the contents of the unconscious 
 phantasies are, and how far removed they are from those 
 which a girl of that age shows outwardly. There are 
 wide-reaching phantasies of truly mythical fruitfulness. 
 The girl was, in the split-off phantasy, the race-mother 
 of uncounted peoples. ^^ If we deduct the poetically 
 spoken phantasy of the girl, elements are left which at 
 that age are common to all girls, for the unconscious con- 
 tent is to an infinitely greater degree common to all man- 
 kind than the content of the individual consciousness. 
 For it is the condensation of that which is historically the 
 average and ordinary. 
 
 Miss Miller's problem at this age was the common 
 human problem: " How am I to be creative? " Nature 
 knows but one answer to that: " Through the child (don 
 d'amour!)." " But how is the child attained? " Here 
 the terrifying problem emerges, which, as our analytic 
 experience shows, is connected with the father," where 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 63 
 
 It cannot be solved; because the original sin of incest 
 weighs heavily for all time upon the human race. The 
 strong and natural love which binds the child to the 
 father, turns away in those years during which the 
 humanity of the father would be all too plainly recog- 
 nized, to the higher forms of the father, to the " Fathers " 
 of the church, and to the Father God,^^ visibly repre- 
 sented by them, and in that there lies still less possibility 
 of solving the problem. However, mythology is not lack- 
 ing in consolations. Has not the logos become flesh 
 too? Has not the divine pneiima, even the logos, en- 
 tered the Virgin's womb and lived among us as the son 
 of man? That whirlwind of Anaxagoras was precisely 
 the divine vov? which from out of itself has become 
 the world. Why do we cherish the image of the Virgin 
 Mother even to this day? Because it is always comfort- 
 ing and says without speech or noisy sermon to the one 
 seeking comfort, " I too have become a mother," — 
 through the " idea which spontaneously produces its 
 object." 
 
 I believe that there is foundation enough at hand for a 
 sleepless night, if those phantasies peculiar to the age of 
 puberty were to become possessed of this idea — the results 
 would be immeasurable ! All that is psychologic has an 
 under and an over meaning, as is expressed in the pro- 
 found remark of the old mystic: ovpavo? arco, ovpavo? 
 Harco, aiOepa avco, aidtpa jkxtgt, nav rovTO avoa, ndv 
 rovTo HocroD, rovxoXajii nai (.vrvx^^^ — 
 
 * The heaven above, the heaven below, the sky above, the sky below, 
 all things above, all things below, decline and rise. 
 
64 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 We would show but slight justice, however, to the in- 
 tellectual originality of our author, if we were satisfied 
 to trace back the commotion of that sleepless night abso- 
 lutely and entirely to the sexual problem in a narrow 
 sense. That would be but one-half, and truly, to make 
 use of the mystic's expression, only the under half. The 
 other half is the intellectual sublimation, which strives 
 to make true in its own way the ambiguous expression of 
 " the idea which produces its object spontaneously," — 
 ideal creation in place of the real. 
 
 In such an intellectual accomplishment of an evidently 
 very capable personality, the prospect of a spiritual fruit- 
 fulness is something which is worthy of the highest as- 
 piration, since for many it will become a necessity of life. 
 Also this side of the phantasy explains, to a great ex- 
 tent, the excitement, for it is a thought with a presenti- 
 ment of the future; one of those thoughts which arise, 
 to use one of Maeterlinck's expressions, ^'' from the " in- 
 conscient superieur," that " prospective potency " of sub- 
 liminal combinations." 
 
 I have had the opportunity of observing certain cases 
 of neuroses of years' duration, in which, at the time of 
 the beginning of the illness or shortly before, a dream 
 occurred, often of visionary clarity. This impressed 
 itself inextinguishably upon the memory, and in analysis 
 revealed a hidden meaning to the patient which antici- 
 pated the subsequent events of life; that is to say, their 
 psychologic meaning.^^ I am inclined to grant this mean- 
 ing to the commotion of that restless night, because the 
 resulting events of life, in so far as Miss Miller con- 
 
 ! 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 65 
 
 sciously and unconsciously unveils them to us, are entirely 
 of a nature to confirm the supposition that that moment 
 is to be considered as the inception and presentiment of 
 a sublimated aim in life. 
 
 Miss Miller concludes the list of her fancies with the 
 following remarks: 
 
 " The dream seemed to me to come from a mixture of the 
 representation of * Paradise Lost,' ' Job,' and * Creation,' with 
 ideas such as ' thought which spontaneously produces its object ' : 
 ' the gift of love,' ' chaos, and cosmos.' " 
 
 In the same way as colored splinters of glass are com- 
 bined in a kaleidoscope, in her mind fragments of philos- 
 ophy, aesthetics and religion would seem to be combined — 
 
 " under the stimulating influence of the journey, and the coun- 
 tries hurriedly seen, combined with the great silence and the inde- 
 scribable charm of the sea. ' Ce ne fut que cela et rien de plus.' 
 ' Only this, and nothing more! ' " 
 
 With these words, Miss Miller shows us out, politely 
 and energetically. Her parting words in her negation, 
 confirmed over again in English, leave behind a curiosity; 
 viz., what position is to be negated by these words? " Ce 
 ne fut que cela et rien de plus " — that is to say, really, 
 only " le charme impalpable de la mer " — and the young 
 man who sang melodiously during the night watch is long 
 since forgotten, and no one is to know, least of all the 
 dreamer, that he was a morning star, who came before 
 the creation of a new day.^^ One should take care lest 
 he satisfy himself and the reader with a sentence such as 
 " ce ne fut que cela." Otherwise, it might immediately 
 
66 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 happen that one would become disturbed again. This 
 occurs to Miss Miller too, since she allowed an English 
 quotation to follow, — " Only this, and nothing more," 
 without giving the source, it is true. The quotation comes 
 from an unusually effective poem, " The Raven " by Poe. 
 The line referred to occurs in the following: 
 
 " While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping 
 As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door — 
 * 'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, ' tapping at my chamber door ' — 
 Only this, and nothing more." 
 
 The spectral raven knocks nightly at his door and 
 reminds the poet of his irrevocably lost " Lenore." The 
 raven's name is " Nevermore," and as a refrain to every 
 verse he croaks his horrible " Nevermore." Old mem- 
 ories come back tormentingly, and the spectre repeats in- 
 exorably " Nevermore." The poet seeks in vain to 
 frighten away the dismal guest; he calls to the raven: 
 
 " ' Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend,' I shrieked, 
 upstarting — 
 ' Get thee back into the tempest and the night's Plutonian shore! 
 Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! 
 Leave my loneliness unbroken, quit the bust above my door! 
 Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off 
 my door ! ' 
 
 Quoth the raven, ' Nevermore.' " 
 
 That quotation, which, apparently, skips lightly over 
 the situation, " Only this, and nothing more," comes from 
 a text which depicts in an affecting manner the despair 
 over the lost Lenore. That quotation also misleads our 
 poet in the most striking manner. Therefore, she under- 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 67 
 
 values the erotic impression and the wide-reaching effect 
 of the commotion caused by It. It Is this undervaluation, 
 which Freud has formulated more precisely as " repres- 
 sion," which is the reason why the erotic problem does 
 not attain directly conscious treatment, and from this 
 there arise " these psychologic riddles." The erotic im- 
 pression works in the unconscious, and, In Its stead, pushes 
 symbols forth into consciousness. Thus, one plays hide- 
 and-seek with one's self. First, it Is " the morning stars 
 which sing together"; then "Paradise Lost"; then the 
 erotic yearning clothes itself In an ecclesiastical dress and 
 utters dark words about " World Creation " and finally 
 rises into a religious hymn to find there, at last, a way out 
 into freedom, a v/ay against which the censor of the moral 
 personality can oppose nothing more. The hymn con- 
 tains in its own peculiar character the marks of its origin. 
 It thus has fulfilled itself — the " Law of the Return of 
 the Complex." The night singer, in this circuitous man- 
 ner of the old transference to the Father-Priest, has be- 
 come the " Eternal," the " Creator," the God of Tone, 
 of Light, of Love. 
 
 The Indirect course of the libido seems to be a way 
 of sorrow; at least "Paradise Lost" and the parallel 
 reference to Job lead one to that conclusion. If we take, 
 in addition to this, the introductory intimation of the 
 identification with Christian, which we see concludes with 
 Cyrano, then we are furnished with material which pic- 
 tures the indirect course of the libido as truly a way of 
 sorrow. It Is the same as when mankind, after the sinful 
 fall, had the burden of the earthly life to bear, or like 
 
68 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 the tortures of Job, who suffered under the power of 
 Satan and of God, and who himself, without suspecting it, 
 became a plaything of the superhuman forces which we 
 no longer consider as metaphysical, but as metapsycho- 
 logical. Faust also offers us the same exhibition of 
 God's wager. 
 
 Mephistopheles : 
 
 What will 3 oil bet? There's still a chance to gain him 
 If unto me full leave you give 
 Gently upon my road to train him! 
 
 Satan : 
 
 But put forth thine hand now, and touch all that he hath, 
 and he will curse thee to thy face. — Job i: ii. 
 
 While in Job the two great tendencies are character- 
 ized simply as good and bad, the problem in Faust is a 
 pronouncedly erotic one; viz., the battle between subhma- 
 tion and eros, in which the Devil is strikingly character- 
 ized through the fitting role of the erotic tempter. The 
 erotic is lacking in Job; at the same time Job is not con- 
 scious of the conflict within his own soul; he even con- 
 tinuously disputes the arguments of his friends who wish 
 to convince him of evil in his own heart. To this extent, 
 one might say that Faust is considerably more honor- 
 able since he openly confesses to the torments of his 
 Goul. 
 
 Miss Miller acts like Job; she says nothing, and lets 
 the evil and the good come from the other world, from 
 the metapsychologic. Therefore, the identification with 
 Job is also significant in this respect. A wider, and, in- 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 69 
 
 deed, a very Important analogy remains to be mentioned. 
 The creative power, which love really is, rightly con- 
 sidered from the natural standpoint, remains as the real 
 attribute of the Divinity, sublimated from the erotic im- 
 pression; therefore, in the poem God is praised through- 
 out as Creator. 
 
 Job offers the same illustration. Satan is the destroyer 
 of Job's fruitfulness. God is the fruitful one himself, 
 therefore, at the end of the book, he gives forth, as an 
 expression of his own creative power, this hymn, filled 
 with lofty poetic beauty. In this hymn, strangely enough, 
 two unsympathetic representatives of the animal king- 
 dom, behemoth and the leviathan, both expressive of the 
 crudest force conceivable in nature, are given chief con- 
 sideration; the behemoth being really the phallic attri- 
 bute of the God of Creation. 
 
 " Behold now behemoth, which I made as well as thee; 
 He eateth grass as an ox. 
 Lo, now; his strength is in his loins, 
 And his force is in the muscles of his belly. 
 He moveth his tail like a cedar: 
 The sinews of his thighs are knit together. 
 His bones are as tubes of brass; 
 His limbs are like bars of iron. 
 He is the chief of the ways of God: 
 He only that made him giveth him his sword. . . . 
 Behold, if a river overflow, he trembleth not; 
 He is confident though a Jordan swell even to his mouth. 
 Shall any take him when he is on the watch. 
 Or pierce through his nose with a snare? 
 Canst thou draw leviathan with a fish-hook? 
 Or press down his tongue with a cord? . . . 
 
70 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Lay thy hand upon him ; 
 
 Remember the battle and do no more. 
 
 None is so fierce that dare stir him up: 
 
 Who then is he that can stand before me? 
 
 Who hath first given unto me, that I should repay him? 
 
 Wliatsoever is under the whole heaven is mine." 
 
 — Job xl: 15-20, 23-24; xli: i, 8, lO-ii. 
 
 God says this In order to bring his power and omnipo- 
 tence impressively before Job's eyes. God is like the 
 behemoth and the leviathan; the fruitful nature giving 
 forth abundance, — the untamable wildness and bound- 
 lessness of nature, — and the overwhelming danger of the 
 unchained power. "° 
 
 But what has destroyed Job's earthly paradise? The 
 unchained power of nature. As the poet lets it be seen 
 here, God has simply turned his other side outwards for 
 once; the side which man calls the devil, and which lets 
 loose all the torments of nature on Job, naturally for the 
 purpose of discipline and training. The God who cre- 
 ated such monstrosities, before whom the poor weak man 
 stiffens with anxiety, truly must hide qualities within him- 
 self which are food for thought. This God lives in the 
 heart, in the unconscious, in the realm of metapsychology. 
 There is the source of the anxiety before the unspeakably 
 horrible, and of the strength to withstand the horrors. 
 The person, that is to say his conscious " I," is like a play- 
 thing, like a feather which is whirled around by different 
 currents of air; sometimes the sacrifice and sometimes the 
 sacrificer, and he cannot hinder either. The Book of Job 
 shows us God at work both as creator and destroyer. 
 Who Is this God? A thought which humanity In every 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 71 
 
 part of the world and in all ages has brought forth from 
 itself and always again anew in similar forms; a power in 
 the other world to which man gives praise, a power which 
 creates as well as destroys, an idea necessary to life. 
 Since, psychologically understood, the divinity is nothing 
 else than a projected complex of representation which is 
 accentuated in feeling according to the degree of religious- 
 ness of the individual, so God is to be considered as the 
 representative of a certain sum of energy (libido). 
 This energy, therefore, appears projected (metaphysi- 
 cally) because it works from the unconscious outwards, 
 when it is dislodged from there, as psychoanalysis shows. 
 As I have earlier made apparent in the " Bedeutung des 
 Vaters," the religious instinct feeds upon the incestuous 
 libido of the infantile period. In the principal forms 
 of religion which now exist, the father transference seems 
 to be at least the moulding influence; in older religions, 
 it seems to be the influence of the mother transference 
 which creates the attributes of the divinity. The attri- 
 butes of the divinity are omnipotence, a sternly persecut- 
 ing paternalism ruling through fear (Old Testament) 
 and a loving paternalism (New Testament). These are 
 the attributes of the libido in that wide sense in which 
 Freud has conceived this idea empirically. In certain 
 pagan and also in certain Christian attributes of divinity 
 the maternal stands out strongly, and in the former the 
 animal also comes into the greatest prominence. ^^ Like- 
 wise, the infantile, so closely interwoven with religious 
 phantasies, and from time to time breaking forth so vio- 
 lently, is nowhere lacking."^ All this points to the sources 
 
72 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 of the dynamic states of religious activity. These are 
 those impulses which in childhood are withdrawn from 
 incestuous application through the intervention of the 
 incest barrier and which, especially at the time of puberty, 
 as a result of affluxes of libido coming from the still in- 
 completely employed sexuality, are aroused to their own 
 peculiar activity. As is easily understood, that which is 
 valuable in the God-creating idea is not the form but 
 the power, the libido. The primitive power which Job's 
 Hymn of Creation vindicates, the unconditional and in- 
 exorable, the unjust and the superhuman, are truly and 
 rightly attributes of libido, which " lead us unto life," 
 which " let the poor be guilty," and against which strug- 
 gle is in vain. Nothing remains for mankind but to work 
 in harmony with this will. Nietzsche's " Zarathustra " 
 teaches us this impressively. 
 
 We see that in Miss Miller the religious hymn arising 
 from the unconscious is the compensating amend for the 
 erotic; it takes a great part of its materials from the 
 infantile reminiscences which she re-awakened into life 
 by the introversion of the libido. Had this religious cre- 
 ation not succeeded (and also had another sublimated 
 application been eliminated) then Miss Miller would 
 have yielded to the erotic impression, either to its natural 
 consequence or to a negative issue, which would have 
 replaced the lost success in love by a correspondingly, 
 strong sorrow. It is well known that opinions are much] 
 divided concerning the worth of this issue of an erotic 
 conflict, such as Miss Miller has presented to us. It is 
 thought to be much more beautiful to solve unnoticed an 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 73 
 
 erotic tension, in the elevated feelings of religious poetry, 
 in which perhaps many other people can find joy and 
 consolation. One is wrong to storm against this con- 
 ception from the radical standpoint of fanaticism for 
 truth. 
 
 I think that one should view with philosophic admira- 
 tion the strange paths of the libido and should investi- 
 gate the purposes of its circuitous ways. 
 
 It is not too much to say that we have herewith dug up 
 the erotic root, and yet the problem remains unsolved. 
 Were there not bound up with that a mysterious purpose, 
 probably of the greatest biological meaning, then cer- 
 tainly twenty centuries would not have yearned for it 
 with such intense longing. Doubtless, this sort of llbidian 
 current moves In the same direction as, taken in the widest 
 sense, did that ecstatic ideal of the Middle Ages and of 
 the ancient mystery cults, one of which became the later 
 Christianity. There is to be seen biologically in this 
 ideal an exercise of psychologic projection (of the para- 
 noidlan mechanism, as Freud would express it) ." The 
 projection consists in the repressing of the conflict into 
 the unconscious and the setting forth of the repressed 
 contents Into seeming objectivity, which is also the for- 
 mula of paranoia. The repression serves, as is well 
 known, for the freeing from a painful complex from 
 which one must escape by all means because its compelling 
 and oppressing power is feared. The repression can lead 
 to an apparent complete suppression which corresponds 
 to a strong self-control. Unfortunately, however, self- 
 control has limits which are only too narrowly drawn. 
 
74 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Closer observation of people shows, it is true, that calm 
 is maintained at the critical moment, but certain results 
 occur which fall into two categories. 
 
 First, the suppressed effect comes to the surface imme- 
 diately afterwards; seldom directly, it is true, but ordi- 
 narily in the form of a displacement to another object 
 (e. g. a person is, in official relations, polite, submissive, 
 patient, and so on, and turns his whole anger loose upon 
 his wife or his subordinates). 
 
 Second, the suppressed effect creates compensations 
 elsewhere. For example, people who strive for excessive 
 ethics, who try always to think, feel, and act altruistically 
 and ideally, avenge themselves, because of the impossi- 
 bility of carrying out their ideals, by subtle maliciousness, 
 which naturally does not come into their own conscious- 
 ness as such, but which leads to misunderstandings and 
 unhappy situations. Apparently, then, all of these are 
 only " especially unfortunate circumstances," or they are 
 the guilt and malice of other people, or they are tragic 
 complications. 
 
 One is, indeed, freed of the conscious conflict, never- 
 theless it lies invisible at one's feet, and is stumbled over 
 at every step. The technic of the apparent suppressing 
 and forgetting is inadequate because it is not possible of 
 achievement in the last analysis — it is in reality a mere 
 makeshift. The religious projection offers a much more 
 effectual help. In this one keeps the conflict in sight 
 (care, pain, anxiety, and so on) and gives it over to a 
 personality standing outside of one's self, the Divinity. 
 The evangelical command teaches us this: 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 75 
 
 " Cast all your anxiety upon him, because he careth for 
 you." — / Peter v: 7. 
 
 " In nothing be anxious; but in every thing by prayer and sup- 
 plication . . • let your requests be made known unto God." — 
 Phil. iv:6. 
 
 One must give the burdening complex of the soul con- 
 sciously over to the Deity; that is to say, associate it with 
 a definite representation complex which is set up as ob- 
 jectively real, as a person who answers those questions, 
 for us unanswerable. To this inner demand belongs the 
 candid avowal of sin and the Christian humility presum- 
 ing such an avowal. Both are for the purpose of making 
 it possible for one to examine one's self and to know one's 
 self."* One may consider the mutual avowal of sins as 
 the most powerful support to this work of education 
 (" Confess, therefore, your sins one to another." — ^James 
 v: 16). These measures aim at a conscious recognition 
 of the conflicts, thoroughly psychoanalytic, which is also 
 a conditio sine qua non of the psychoanalytic condition 
 of recovery. Just as psychoanalysis in the hands of the 
 physician, a secular method, sets up the real object of 
 transference as the one to take over the conflicts of the 
 oppressed and to solve them, so the Christian religion sets 
 up the Saviour, considered as real; " In whom we have 
 redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of 
 sins. . . ." (Eph. 1:7 and Col. i:i4.)^^ He is the 
 deliverer and redeemer of our guilt, a God who stands 
 above sin, " who did no sin, neither was guile found in 
 his mouth " (Pet. ii: 22). "Who his own self bare our 
 sins in his body upon the tree " (Pet. ii : 24). "There- 
 
76 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 fore Christ has been sacrificed once to take away the 
 sins of many" (Heb. ix:28). The God, thus thought 
 of, is distinguished as innocent in himself and as the 
 self-sacrificer. (These qualities are true also for that 
 amount of energy — ^libido — which belongs to the rep- 
 resentation complex designated the Redeemer.) The 
 conscious projection towards which the Christian educa- 
 tion aims, offers, therefore, a double benefit: first, one is 
 kept conscious of the conflict (sins) of two opposing 
 tendencies mutually resistant, and through this one pre- 
 vents a known trouble from becoming, by means of re- 
 pressing and forgetting, an unknown and therefore so 
 much more tormenting sorrow. Secondly, one lightens 
 one's burden by surrendering it to him to whom all solu- 
 tions are known. One must not forget that the individual 
 psychologic roots of the Deity, set up as real by the pious, 
 are concealed from him, and that he, although unaware 
 of this, still bears the burden alone and is still alone with 
 his conflict. This delusion would lead infallibly to the 
 speedy breaking up of the system, for Nature cannot in- 
 definitely be deceived, but the powerful institution of 
 Christianity meets this situation. The command in the 
 book of James is the best expression of the psychologic 
 significance of this: " Bear ye one another's burdens." ^® 
 This is emphasized as especially important in order 
 to preserve society upright through mutual love (Trans- 
 ference) ; the Pauline writings leave no doubt about this: 
 
 "Through love be servants one to another." — Gal. v: 13. 
 
 " Let love of the brethren continue." — Heb. xiii: i. 
 
 " And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 77 
 
 good works. Not forgetting our own assembling together as 
 is the custom of some, but exhorting one another." — Heb. x: 24-25. 
 
 We might say that the real transference taught in the 
 Christian community is the condition absolutely necessary 
 for the efiicacy of the miracle of redemption; the first 
 letter of John comes out frankly with this : 
 
 " He that loveth his brother abideth in the light." — I John 
 ii: 10. 
 
 " If we love one another, God abideth in us." — / John iv: 12. 
 
 The Deity continues to be efficacious in the Christian 
 religion only upon the foundation of brotherly love. 
 Consequently, here too the mystery of redemption is the 
 unresisting real transference." One may properly ask 
 one's self, for what then is the Deity useful, if his efficacy 
 consists only in the real transference? To this also the 
 evangelical message has a striking answer: 
 
 " Men are all brothers in Christ." 
 
 " So Christ also, having been once offered to bear the sins 
 of many, shall appear a second time apart from sin to them 
 that wait for him unto salvation." — Heb. ix: 28. 
 
 The condition of transference among brothers is to be 
 such as between man and Christ, a spiritual one. As the 
 history of ancient cults and certain Christian sects shows, 
 this explanation of the Christian religion is an especially 
 Important one biologically, for the psychologic intimacy 
 creates certain shortened ways between men which lead 
 only too easily to that from which Christianity seeks to 
 release them, namely to the sexual relation with all those 
 
78 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 consequences and necessities under which the really al- 
 ready highly civilized man had to suffer at the beginning 
 of our Christian era. For just as the ancient religious 
 experience was regarded distinctly as a bodily union with 
 the Deity,"^ just so was worship permeated with sexual- 
 ity of every kind. Sexuality lay only too close to the 
 relations of people with each other. The moral degen- 
 eracy of the first Christian century produced a moral re- 
 action arising out of the darkness of the lowest strata of 
 society which was expressed in the second and third cen- 
 turies at its purest in the two antagonistic religions, Chris- 
 tianity on the one side, and Mithracism on the other. 
 These religions strove after precisely that higher form 
 of social intercourse symbolic of a projected " become 
 flesh" idea (logos), whereby all those strongest impul- 
 sive energies of the archaic man, formerly plunging him 
 from one passion into another, ^^ and which seemed to the 
 ancients like the compulsion of the evil constellations, as 
 Eifxapi^evr],'* and which in the sense of later ages might 
 be translated as the driving force of the libido,^° the 
 dvvajAi? Hivr}riKr\\ of Zeno, could be made use of for 
 social preservation.^^ 
 
 It may be assumed most certainly that the domestica- 
 tion of humanity has cost the greatest sacrifices. An age 
 which produced the stoical ideal must certainly have 
 known why and against what it was created. The age 
 of Nero serves to set off effectually the famous extracts 
 from the forty-first letter of Seneca to Lucilius : 
 
 * Destiny. 
 
 t Power for putting in motion. 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 79 
 
 " One drags the other into error, and how can we attain to 
 salvation when no one bids us halt, when all the world drives 
 us in deeper? " 
 
 " Do you ever come across a man unafraid in danger, un- 
 touched by desires, happy in misfortune, peaceful in the midst 
 of a storm, elevated above ordinary mortals, on the same plane 
 as the gods, does not reverence seize you ? Are you not compelled 
 to say, ' Such an exalted being is certainly something different 
 from the miserable body which he inhabits ' ? A divine strength 
 rules there, such an excellent mind, full of moderation, raised above 
 all trivialities, which smiles at that which we others fear or strive 
 after: a heavenly power animates such a person, a thing of this 
 kind does not exist without the cooperation of a deity. The 
 largest part of such a being belongs to the region from which he 
 came. Just as the sun's rays touch the earth in reality and yet 
 are at home only there from whence they come, so an eminent 
 holy man associates with us. He is sent to us that we may 
 learn to know the divine better, and although with us, still really 
 belongs to his original home. He looks thither and reaches to- 
 wards it; among us he walks as an exalted being." 
 
 The people of this age had grown ripe for identifica- 
 tion with the Ad/o? (word) "become flesh," for the 
 founding of a new fellowship, united by one idea,^^ in the 
 name of which people could love each other and call 
 each other brothers.''^ The old vague idea of a fxeairr]? 
 (Messiah), of a mediator in whose name new ways of 
 love would be created, became a fact, and with that hu- 
 manity made an immense step forward. This had not 
 been brought about by a speculative, completely sophisti- 
 cated philosophy, but by an elementary need in the mass of 
 people vegetating in spiritual darkness. The profoundest 
 necessities had evidently driven them towards that, since 
 humanity did not thrive in a state of dissoluteness.^* The 
 
8o PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 meaning of those cults — I speak of Christianity and 
 Mithracism — is clear; it is a moral restraint of animal 
 impulses." The dynamic appearance of both rehgions 
 betrays something of that enormous feeling of redemp- 
 tion which animated the first disciples and which we to- 
 day scarcely know how to appreciate, for these old truths 
 are empty to us. Most certainly we should still under- 
 stand it, had our customs even a breath of ancient brutal- 
 ity, for we can hardly realize in this day the whirlwinds 
 of the unchained libido which roared through the ancient 
 Rome of the Caesars. The civilized man of the present 
 day seems very far removed from that. He has become 
 merely neurotic. So for us the necessities which brought 
 forth Christianity have actually been lost, since we no 
 longer understand their meaning. We do not know 
 against what it had to protect us.^^ For enlightened peo- 
 ple, the so-called religiousness has already approached 
 very close to a neurosis. In the past two thousand years 
 Christianity has done its work and has erected barriers 
 of repression, which protect us from the sight of our 
 own " sinfulness." The elementary emotions of the 
 libido have come to be unknown to us, for they are car- 
 ried on in the unconscious; therefore, the belief which 
 combats them has become hollow and empty. Let who- 
 ever does not believe that a mask covers our religion, ob- 
 tain an impression for himself from the appearance of 
 our modern churches, from which style and art have long 
 since fled. 
 
 With this we turn back to the question from which we 
 digressed, namely, whether or not Miss Miller has ere- 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 8i 
 
 ated something valuable with her poem. If we bear in 
 mind under what psychologic or moral conditions Chris- 
 tianity came into existence ; that is to say, at a time when 
 fierce brutality was an every-day spectacle, then we under- 
 stand the religious seizure of the whole personality and 
 the worth of that religion which defended the people of 
 the Roman culture against the visible storms of wicked- 
 ness. It was not difficult for those people to remain con- 
 scious of sin, for they saw it every day spread out before 
 their eyes. The religious product was at that time the 
 accomplishment of the total personality. Miss Miller not 
 only undervalues her " sins," but the connection between 
 the " depressing and unrelenting need " and her religious 
 product has even escaped her. Thus her poetical crea- 
 tion completely loses the living value of a religious 
 product. It is not m.uch more than a sentimental trans- 
 formation of the erotic which is secretly carried out close 
 to consciousness and principally possesses the same worth 
 as the manifest content of the dream " with its uncertain 
 and delusive perishableness. Thus the poem is properly 
 only a dream become audible. 
 
 To the degree that the modern consciousness is eagerly 
 busied with things of a wholly other sort than religion, 
 religion and its object, original sin, have stepped into the 
 background; that is to say, into the unconscious in great 
 part. Therefore, today man believes neither in the one 
 nor in the other. Consequently the Freudian school is ac- 
 cused of an impure phantasy, and yet one might convince 
 one's self very easily with a rather fleeting glance at the 
 history of ancient religions and morals as to what kind 
 
82 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 of demons are harbored in the human soul. With this 
 disbehef in the crudeness of human nature is bound up 
 the disbelief in the power of religion. The phenomenon, 
 well known to every psychoanalyst, of the unconscious 
 transformation of an erotic conflict into religious activity 
 is something ethically wholly worthless and nothing but 
 an hysterical production. Whoever, on the other hand, 
 to his conscious sin just as consciously places religion in 
 opposition, does something the greatness of which can- 
 not be denied. This can be verified by a backv/ard glance 
 over history. Such a procedure is sound religion. The 
 unconscious recasting of the erotic into something re- 
 ligious lays itself open to the reproach of a sentimental 
 and ethically worthless pose. 
 
 By means of the secular practice of the naive projection 
 which is, as we have seen, nothing else than a veiled or 
 indirect real-transference (through the spiritual, through 
 the logos). Christian training has produced a widespread 
 weakening of the animal nature so that a great part of 
 the strength of the impulses could be set free for the 
 work of social preservation and fruitfulness.^^ This 
 abundance of libido, to make use of this singular ex- 
 pression, pursues with a budding renaissance (for ex- 
 ample Petrarch) a course which outgoing antiquity had 
 already sketched out as religious; viz., the way of the 
 transference to nature."*^ The transformation of this 
 libidinous Interest is in great part due to the Mithraic 
 worship, which was a nature religion in the best sense of 
 the word;^° while the primitive Christians exhibited 
 throughout an antagonistic attitude to the beauties of this 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 83 
 
 world." I remember the passage of St, Augustine men- 
 tioned by J. Burkhardt: 
 
 " Men draw thither to admire the heights of the mountains 
 and the powerful waves of the sea — and to turn away from 
 themselves." 
 
 The foremost authority on the Mithraic cult, Franz 
 Cumont,^^ says as follows: 
 
 " The gods were everywhere and mingled in all the events of 
 daily life. The fire which cooked the means of nourishment for 
 the believers and which warmed them ; the water which quenched 
 their thirst and cleansed them; also the air which they breathed, 
 and the day which shone for them, were the objects of their 
 homage. Perhaps no religion has given to its adherents in so 
 large a degree as Mithracism opportunity for prayer and motive 
 for devotion. When the initiated betook himself in the evening 
 to the sacred grotto concealed in the solitude of the forest, at 
 every step new sensations awakened in his heart some mystical 
 emotion. The stars that shone in the sky, the wind that whispered 
 in the foliage, the spring or brook which hastened murmuring to 
 the valley, even the earth which he trod under his feet, were in 
 his eyes divine; and all surrounding nature a worshipful fear of 
 the infinite forces that swayed the universe." 
 
 These fundamental thoughts of Mithracism, which, 
 like so much else of the ancient spiritual life, arose again 
 from their grave during the renaissance are to be found 
 in the beautiful words of Seneca : " 
 
 " When you enter a grove peopled with ancient trees, higher 
 than the ordinary, and whose boughs are so closely interwoven 
 that the sky cannot be seen, the stately shadows of the wood, the 
 privacy of the place, and the awful gloom cannot but strike you, 
 as with the presence of a deity, or when we see some cave at 
 the foot of a mountain penetrating the rocks, not made by human 
 
84 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 hands, but hollowed out to great depths by nature; it fills the 
 mind with a religious fear; we venerate the fountain-heads of 
 great rivers; the sudden eruption of a vast body of water from 
 the secret places of the earth, obtains an altar: we adore likewise 
 the springs of warm baths, and either the opaque quality or 
 immense depths, hath made some lakes sacred." 
 
 All this disappeared in the transitory world of the 
 Christian, only to break forth much later when the 
 thought of mankind had achieved that independence of 
 the idea which could resist the aesthetic impression, so that 
 thought was no longer fettered by the emotional effects 
 of the impression, but could rise to reflective observation. 
 Thus man entered Into a new and Independent relation to 
 nature whereby the foundation was laid for natural science 
 and technique. With that, however, there entered In for 
 the first time a displacement of the weight of Interest; 
 there arose again real-transference which has reached Its 
 greatest development In our time. Materialistic Interest 
 has everywhere become paramount. Therefore, the 
 realms of the spirit, where earlier the greatest conflicts 
 and developments took place, lie deserted and fallow; the 
 world has not only lost Its God as the sentimentalists of 
 the nineteenth century bewail, but also to some extent has 
 lost Its soul as well. One, therefore, cannot wonder that 
 the discoveries and doctrines of the Freudian school, with 
 their wholly psychologic views, meet with an almost uni- 
 versal disapproval. Through the change of the centre of 
 interest from the Inner to the outer world, the knowledge 
 of nature has Increased enormously In comparison with 
 that of earlier times. By this the anthropomorphic con- 
 ception of the religious dogmas has been definitely thrown 
 
THE HYMN OF CREATION 85 
 
 open to question; therefore, the present-day religions 
 can only with the greatest difficulty close their eyes to this 
 fact; for not only has the intense interest been diverted 
 from the Christian religion, but criticism and the neces- 
 sary correction have increased correspondingly. The 
 Christian religion seems to have fulfilled its great bio- 
 logical purpose, in so far as we are able to judge. It has 
 led human thought to independence, and has lost its sig- 
 nificance, therefore, to a yet undetermined extent; in any 
 case its dogmatic contents have become related to Mith- 
 racism. In consideration of the fact that this religion 
 has rendered, nevertheless, inconceivable service to edu- 
 cation, one cannot reject it " eo ipso " today. It seems 
 to me that we might still make use in some way of its 
 form of thought, and especially of its great wisdom of 
 life, which for two thousand years has been proven to 
 be particularly efficacious. The stumbling block is the 
 unhappy combination of religion and morality. That 
 must be overcome. There still remain traces of this strife 
 in the soul, the lack of which in a human being is re- 
 luctantly felt. It is hard to say in what such things con- 
 sist; for this, ideas as well as words are lacking. If, in 
 spite of that, I attempt to say something about it, I do 
 it parabolically, using Seneca's words : ^* 
 
 " Nothing can be more commendable and beneficial if you per- 
 severe in the pursuit of wisdom. It is what would be ridiculous 
 to wish for when it is in your power to attain it. There is no 
 need to lift up your hands to Heaven, or to pray the servant of 
 the temple to admit you to the ear of the idol that your prayers 
 may be heard the better. God is near thee; he is with thee. 
 Yes, Lucilius, a holy spirit resides within us, the observer of 
 
86 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 good and evil, and our constant guardian. And as we treat 
 him, he treats us; no good man is without a God. Could any one 
 ever rise above the power of fortune without his assistance? It 
 is he that inspires us with thoughts, upright, just and pure. We 
 do not, indeed, pretend to say what God; but that a God dwells 
 in the breast of every good man is certain." 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE SONG OF THE MOTH 
 
 A LITTLE later Miss Miller travelled from Geneva to 
 Paris. She says: 
 
 " My weariness on the railway was so great that I could 
 hardly sleep an hour. It was terrifically hot in the ladies' 
 carriage." 
 
 At four o'clock in the morning she noticed a moth that 
 flew against the light in her compartment. She then tried 
 to go to sleep again. Suddenly the following poem took 
 possession of her mind. 
 
 The Moth to the Sun 
 
 " I longed for thee when first I crawled to consciousness. 
 My dreams were all of thee when in the chrysalis I lay. 
 Oft myriads of my kind beat out their lives 
 Against some feeble spark once caught from thee. 
 And one hour more — and my poor life is gone; 
 Yet my last effort, as my first desire, shall be 
 But to approach thy glory; then, having gained 
 One raptured glance, I'll die content. 
 For I, the source of beauty, warmth and life 
 Have in his perfect splendor once beheld." 
 
 Before we go into the material which Miss Miller 
 offers us for the understanding of the poem, we will 
 again cast a glance over the psychologic situation in which 
 the poem originatea. Some months or weeks appear to 
 
 87 
 
88 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 have elapsed since the last direct manifestation of the 
 unconscious that Miss Miller reported to us; about this 
 period we have had no information. We learn nothing 
 about the moods and phantasies of this time. If one 
 might draw a conclusion from this silence it would be 
 presumably that in the time which elapsed between the 
 two poems, really nothing of importance had happened, 
 and that, therefore, this poem is again but a voiced frag- 
 ment of the unconscious working of the complex stretch- 
 ing out over months and years. It is highly probable that 
 It Is concerned with the same complex as before.^ The 
 earlier product, a hymn of creation full of hope, has, 
 however, but little similarity to the present poem. The 
 poem lying before us has a truly hopeless, melancholy 
 character; moth and sun, two things which never meet. 
 One must in fairness ask, is a moth really expected to 
 rise to the sun? We know indeed the proverbial saying 
 about the moth that flew into the light and singed its 
 wings, but not the legend of the moth that strove towards 
 the sun. Plainly, here, two things are connected in her 
 thoughts that do not belong together; first, the moth 
 which fluttered around the light so long that it burnt 
 itself; and then, the idea of a small ephemeral being, 
 something like the day fly, which, in lamentable contrast 
 to the eternity of the stars, longs for an imperishable 
 daylight. This idea reminds one of Faust: 
 
 " Mark how, beneath the evening sunlight's glow 
 The green-embosomed houses glitter; 
 The glow retreats, done is the day of toil, 
 It vonder hastes, new fields of life exploring; 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 89 
 
 Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil 
 
 Upon its track to follow, follow soaring! 
 
 Then would I see eternal Evening gild 
 
 The silent world beneath me glowing. . . . 
 
 Yet, finally, the weary god is sinking; 
 
 The new-born impulse fires my mind, — 
 
 I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking, 
 
 The day before me and the night behind. 
 
 Above me heaven unfurled, the floor of waves beneath me, — 
 
 A glorious dream! though now the glories fade. 
 
 Alas! the wings that lift the mind no aid 
 
 Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me." 
 
 Not long afterwards, Faust sees " the black dog roving 
 there through cornfields and stubble," the dog who is the 
 same as the devil, the tempter, in whose hellish fires 
 Faust has singed his wings. When he believed that he 
 was expressing his great longing for the beauty of the 
 sun and the earth, " he went astray thereover " and fell 
 into the hands of " the Evil One." 
 
 " Yes, resolute to reach some brighter distance, 
 On earth's fair sun I turn my back." 
 
 This is what Faust had said shortly before, in true 
 recognition of the state of affairs. The honoring of the 
 beauty of nature led the Christian of the Middle Ages to 
 pagan thoughts which lay in an antagonistic relation to 
 his conscious religion, just as once Mithracism was in 
 threatening competition with Christianity, for Satan often 
 disguises himself as an angel of light.^ 
 
 The longing of Faust became his ruin. The longing 
 for the Beyond had brought as a consequence a loathing 
 for life, and he stood on the brink of self-destruction.^ 
 
90 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 The longing for the beauty of this world led him anew 
 to ruin, into doubt and pain, even to Marguerite's tragic 
 death. His mistake was that he followed after both 
 worlds with no check to the driving force of his libido, 
 like a man of violent passion. Faust portrays once more 
 the folk-psychologic conflict of the beginning of the 
 Christian era, but what is noteworthy, in a reversed 
 order. 
 
 Against what fearful powers of seduction Christ had 
 to defend himself by means of his hope of the absolute 
 world beyond, may be seen in the example of Alypius in 
 Augustine. If any of us had been living in that period 
 of antiquity, he would have seen clearly that that culture 
 must inevitably collapse because humanity revolted 
 against it. It is well known that even before the spread 
 of Christianity a remarkable expectation of redemption 
 had taken possession of mankind. The following 
 eclogue of Virgil might well be a result of this mood: 
 
 " Ultima Cumsi venit jam carminis astas;* 
 Magnus ab integro Sa;clorum nascitur ordo, 
 Jam redit et Virgo,* redeunt Saturnia regna; 
 
 * " The last age of Cumean prophecy has come already ! 
 Over again the great series of the ages commences: 
 Now too returns the Virgin, return the Saturnian kingdoms; 
 Now at length a new progeny is sent down from high Heaven. 
 Only, chaste Lucina, to the boy at his birth be propitious, 
 In whose time first the age of iron shall discontinue, 
 And in the whole world a golden age arise: now rules thy Apollo. 
 
 Under thy guidance, if any traces of our guilt continue, 
 Rendered harmless, they shall set the earth free from fear forever, 
 He shall partake of the life of the gods, and he shall see 
 Heroes mingled with gods, and he too shall be seen by them. 
 And he shall rule a peaceful world with his father's virtues." 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 91 
 
 Jam nova progenies cslo demittitur alto. 
 Tu mode nascent! puero, quo ferrea primum 
 Desinet ac toto surget gens aurea mundo, 
 Casta fave Lucina: tuus jam regnat Apollo. 
 
 " Te duce, si qua manent sceleris vestigia nostri, 
 Inrita perpetua solvent formidine terras. 
 Ille deum vitam accipiet divisque videbit 
 Permixtos heroas et ipse videbitur illis, 
 Pacatumque reget patriis virtutibus orbem." ^ 
 
 The turning to asceticism resulting from the general 
 expansion of Christianity brought about a new misfortune 
 to many: monasticism and the life of the anchorite.® 
 
 Faust takes the reverse course; for him the ascetic 
 Ideal means death. He struggles for freedom and wins 
 life, at the same time giving himself over to the Evil One; 
 but through this he becomes the bringer of death to her 
 whom he loves most, Marguerite. He tears himself 
 away from pain and sacrifices his life in unceasing useful 
 work, through which he saves many lives.' His double 
 mission as saviour and destroyer has already been hinted 
 in a preliminary manner: 
 
 JVagner: 
 With what a feeling, thou great man, must thou 
 Receive the people's honest veneration! 
 
 Faust : 
 Thus we, our hellish boluses compounding, 
 Among these vales and hills surrounding, 
 Worse than the pestilence, have passed. 
 Thousands were done to death from poison of my giving ; 
 And I must hear, by all the living, 
 The shameless murderers praised at last! 
 
92 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 A parallel to this double role is that text in the Gospel 
 of Matthew which has become historically significant: 
 
 " I came not to send peace, but a sword." — Matt, x: 34. 
 
 Just this constitutes the deep significance of Goethe's 
 Faust, that he clothes in words a problem of modern 
 man which has been turning in restless slumber since the 
 Renaissance, just as was done by the drama of Oedipus 
 for the Hellenic sphere of culture. What is to be the way 
 out between the Scylla of renunciation of the world and 
 the Charybdis of the acceptance of the world? 
 
 The hopeful tone, voiced in the " Hymn to the God 
 of Creation," cannot continue very long with our author. 
 The pose simply promises, but does not fulfil. The old 
 longing will come again, for it is a peculiarity of all com- 
 plexes worked over merely in the unconscious * that they 
 lose nothing of their original amount of affect. Mean- 
 while, their outward manifestations can change almost 
 endlessly. One might therefore consider the first poem 
 as an unconscious longing to solve the conflict through 
 positive religiousness, somewhat in the same manner as 
 they of the earlier centuries decided their conscious con- 
 flicts by opposing to them the religious standpoint. This 
 wish does not succeed. Now with the second poem there 
 follows a second attempt which turns out in a decidedly 
 more material way; its thought is unequivocal. Only 
 once " having gained one raptured glance . . ." and 
 then — to die. 
 
 From the realms of the religious world, the attention, 
 lust as in Faust,® turns towards the sun of this world, 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 93 
 
 and already there is something mingled with it which 
 has another sense, that is to say, the moth which fluttered 
 so long around the light that it burnt its wings. 
 
 We now pass to that which Miss Miller offers for the 
 better understanding of the poem. She says : 
 
 " This small poem made a profound impression upon me. I 
 could not, of course, find immediately a sufficiently clear and di- 
 rect explanation for it. However, a few days later when I once 
 more read a certain philosophical work, which I had read in 
 Berlin the previous winter, and which I had enjoyed very much, 
 (I was reading it aloud to a friend), I came across the following 
 words: 'La meme aspiration passionnee de la mite vers I'etoile, 
 de I'homme vers Dieu.' (The same passionate longing of the 
 moth for the star, of man for God.) I had forgotten this sentence 
 entirely, but it seemed very clear to me that precisely these words 
 had reappeared in my hypnagogic poem. In addition to that it 
 occurred to me that a play seen some years previously, ' La Mite 
 et La Flamme,' was a further possible cause of the poem. It is 
 easy to see how often the word ' moth ' had been impressed upon 
 me. 
 
 The deep impression made by the poem upon the 
 author shows that she put into it a large amount of love. 
 In the expression " aspiration passionnee " we meet the 
 passionate longing of the moth for the star, of man for 
 God, and indeed, the moth is Miss Miller herself. Her 
 last observation that the word " moth " was often im- 
 pressed upon her shows how often she had noticed the 
 word " moth " as applicable to herself. Her longing for 
 God resembles the longing of the moth for the "star." 
 The reader will recall that this expression has already had 
 a place in the earlier material, " when the morning stars 
 sang together," that is to say, the ship's officer who sings 
 
94 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 on deck in the night watch. The passionate longing for 
 God is the same as that longing for the singing morning 
 stars. It was pointed out at great length in the fore- 
 going chapter that this analogy is to be expected: "Sic 
 parvis componere magna solebam." 
 
 It is shameful or exalted just as one chooses, that the 
 divine longing of humanity, which is really the first thing 
 to make it human, should be brought into connection with 
 an erotic phantasy. Such a comparison jars upon the finer 
 feelings. Therefore, one is inclined in spite of the un- 
 deniable facts to dispute the connection. An Italian 
 steersman with brown hair and black moustache, and the 
 loftiest, dearest conception of humanity! These two 
 things cannot be brought together; against this not only 
 our religious feelings revolt, but our taste also rebels. 
 
 It would certainly be unjust to make a comparison of 
 the two objects as concrete things since they are so hetero- 
 geneous. One loves a Beethoven sonata but one loves 
 caviar also. It would not occur to any one to liken the 
 sonata to caviar. It is a common error for one to judge 
 the longing according to the quality of the object. The 
 appetite of the gourmand which is only satisfied with 
 goose liver and quail is no more distinguished than the 
 appetite of the laboring man for corned beef and cabbage. 
 The longing is the same; the object changes. Nature is 
 beautiful only by virtue of the longing and love given 
 her by man. The aesthetic attributes emanating from 
 that has influence primarily on the libido, which alone 
 constitutes the beauty of nature. The dream recognizes 
 this well when it depicts a strong and beautiful feeling by 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 95 
 
 means of a representation of a beautiful landscape. 
 Whenever one moves in the territory of the erotic it 
 becomes altogether clear how little the object and how 
 much the love means. The " sexual object " is as a rule 
 overrated far too much and that only on account of the 
 extreme degree to which libido is devoted to the object. 
 
 Apparently Miss Miller had but little left over for 
 the officer, which is humanly very intelligible. But in 
 spite of that a deep and lasting effect emanates from 
 this connection which places divinity on a par with the 
 erotic object. The moods which apparently are produced 
 by these objects do not, however, spring from them, but 
 are manifestations of her strong love. When Miss 
 Miller praises either God or the sun she means her love, 
 that deepest and strongest impulse of the human and 
 animal being. 
 
 The reader will recall that in the preceding chapter the 
 following chain of synonyms was adduced: the singer — 
 God of sound — singing morning star — creator — God of 
 Light — sun — fire — God of Love. 
 
 At that time we had placed sun and fire in parentheses. 
 Now they are entitled to their right place in the chain of 
 synonyms. With the changing of the erotic impression 
 from the affirmative to the negative the symbols of light 
 occur as the paramount object. In the second poem where 
 the longing is clearly exposed it is by no means the ter- 
 restrial sun. Since the longing has been turned away from 
 the real object, its object has become, first of all, a sub- 
 jective one, namely, God. Psychologically, however, God 
 is the name of a representation-complex which is grouped 
 
96 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 around a strong feeling (the sum of libido). Properly, 
 the feeling is what gives character and reality to the com- 
 plex/° The attributes and symbols of the divinity must 
 belong in a consistent manner to the feeling (longing, love, 
 libido, and so on). If one honors God, the sun or the 
 fire, then one honors one's own vital force, the libido. 
 It is as Seneca says : " God is near you, he is with you, in 
 you." God is our own longing to which we pay divine 
 honors." If it were not known how tremendously sig- 
 nificant religion was, and is, this marvellous play with 
 one's self would appear absurd. There must be something 
 more than this, however, because, notwithstanding its 
 absurdity, it is, in a certain sense, conformable to the 
 purpose in the highest degree. To bear a God within 
 one's self signifies a great deal; it is a guarantee of hap- 
 piness, of power, indeed even of omnipotence, as far as 
 these attributes belong to the Deity. To bear a God 
 within one's self signifies just as much as to be God one's 
 self. In Christianity, where, it is true, the grossly sensual 
 representations and symbols are weeded out as carefully 
 as possible, which seems to be a continuation of the pov- 
 erty of symbols of the Jewish cult, there are to be found 
 plain traces of this psychology. There are even plainer 
 traces, to be sure, in the " becoming-one with God " in 
 those mysteries closely related to the Christian, where the 
 mystic himself Is lifted up to divine adoration through 
 initiatory rites. At the close of the consecration into the 
 Isis mysteries the mystic was crowned with the palm 
 crown, ^^ he was placed on a pedestal and worshipped as 
 Hellos.^'^ In the magic papyrus of the Mithraic liturgy 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 97 
 
 published by DIeterich there is the lepoi Xoyos* of the 
 consecrated one : 
 
 'Eyco ei/At GvpiTtXavo? v^xiv aGrrjp xai iu rov /3a6ov5 
 
 The mystic in religious ecstasies put himself on a plane 
 with the stars, just as a saint of the Middle Ages put 
 himself by means of the stigmata on a level with Christ. 
 St. Francis of Assisi expressed this in a truly pagan man- 
 ner,^* even as far as a close relationship with the brother 
 sun and the sister moon. These representations of " be- 
 coming-one with God " are very ancient. The old belief 
 removed the becoming-one with God until the time after 
 death; the mysteries, however, suggest this as taking 
 place already in this world. A very old text brings most 
 beautifully before one this unity with God; it is the song 
 of triumph of the ascending soul.^^ 
 
 " I am the God Atum, I who alone was. 
 I am the God Re at his first splendor. 
 I am the great God, self-created, God of Gods, 
 To whom no other God compares." 
 
 " I was yesterday and know tomorrow ; the battle-ground of 
 Gods was made when I spoke. I know the name of that 
 great God who tarries therein. 
 
 " I am that great Phoenix who is in Heliopolis, who there 
 keeps account of all there is, of all that exists. 
 
 " I am the God Min, at his coming forth, who placed the 
 feathers upon my head.^® 
 
 " I am in my country, I come into my c\Xy. Daily I am to- 
 gether with my father Atum." 
 
 * Sacred word. 
 
 t I am a star wandering about with you, and flaming up from the depths. 
 
98 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 " My impurity is driven away, and the sin which was in me 
 is overcome. I washed myself in those two great pools of water 
 which are in Heracleopolis, in which is purified the sacrifice of 
 mankind for that great God who abideth there. 
 
 " I go on my way to where I wash my head in the sea of the 
 righteous. I arrive at this land of the glorified, and enter 
 through the splendid portal. 
 
 " Thou, who standest before me, stretch out to me thy hands, 
 it is I, I am become one of thee. Daily am I together with my 
 Father Atum." 
 
 The identification with God necessarily has as a result 
 the enhancing of the meaning and power of the indi- 
 vidual.^^ That seems, first of all, to have been really its 
 purpose : a strengthening of the individual against his 
 all too great weakness and insecurity in real life. This 
 great megalomania thus has a genuinely pitiable back- 
 ground. The strengthening of the consciousness of 
 power Is, however, only an external result of the " becom- 
 ing-one with God." Of much more significance are the 
 deeper-lying disturbances in the realm of feeling. Who- 
 ever introverts libido — that is to say, whoever takes it 
 away from a real object without putting in its place a real 
 compensation — is overtaken by the inevitable results of 
 introversion. The libido, which is turned inward into the 
 subject, awakens again from among the sleeping remem- 
 brances one which contains the path upon which earlier 
 the libido once had come to the real object. At the 
 very first and in foremost position it was father and 
 mother who were the objects of the childish love. They 
 are unequalled and imperishable. Not many difficulties 
 are needed in an adult's Hfe to cause those memories to 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 99 
 
 reawaken and to become effectual. In religion the re- 
 gressive reanimation of the f ather-and-mother imago is 
 organized into a system. The benefits of religion are the 
 benefits of parental hands; its protection and its peace 
 are the results of parental care upon the child; its mystic 
 feelings are the unconscious memories of the tender 
 emotions of the first childhood, just as the hymn ex- 
 presses it: 
 
 " I am in my country, I come into my city. Daily am I to- 
 gether with my father Atum." ^® 
 
 The visible father of the world is, however, the sun, 
 the heavenly fire; therefore, Father, God, Sun, Fire are 
 mythologically synonymous. The well-known fact that 
 in the sun's strength the great generative power of nature 
 is honored shows plainly, very plainly, to any one to whom 
 as yet it may not be clear that in the Deity man honors 
 his own libido, and naturally in the form of the image or 
 symbol of the present object of transference. This 
 symbol faces us in an especially marked manner in the 
 third Logos of the Dieterich papyrus. After the second 
 prayer ^° stars come from the disc of the sun to the mystic, 
 " five-pointed, in quantities, filling the whole air. If the 
 sun's disc has expanded, you will see an immeasurable 
 circle, and fiery gates which are shut off." The mystic 
 utters the following prayer: 
 
 'ETTaHOvdor fxov, auovffov }xnv — 6 ffvvSr/ffa? nvevfiari 
 ra nvpiva uXeWpa rou ovpavov, diGoofxaroi nvpinoXSy 
 cpGoroi HTiffTa — TtvpiTtvos, TtvpiOupie, 7z:y€vjxaroq)Cj?, nvpi- 
 XctpVy y<-OiXXiq)ooi, (poor oupar cop, vtvpiGGopiars, qjoorodoTaf 
 
 TCVpiffTtOpS, TtVpiuXovS, (pGOTO/SlS, TtVpiSlVU, (pGOTOHlV^Taf 
 
100 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 HspavvoK\6v£, (poDToS kXso^, uv^Tjff 1^)00?, evTtvpiff- 
 XTjGicpGoi, a(JTf)o6a}J.a.* 
 
 The invocation is, as one sees, almost inexhaustible in 
 light and fire attributes, and can be likened in its extrava- 
 gance only to the synonymous attributes of love of the 
 mystic of the Middle Ages. Among the innumerable 
 texts which might be used as an illustration of this, I 
 select a passage from the writings of Mechtild von 
 Magdeburg (1212-1277): 
 
 "O Lord, love me excessively and love me often and long; 
 the oftener you love me, so much the purer do I become; the 
 more excessively you love me, the more beautiful I become; 
 the longer you love me, the more holy will I become here upon 
 earth." 
 
 God answered : " That I love you often, that I have from my 
 nature, for I myself am love. That I love you excessively, that 
 I have from my desire, for I too desire that men love me exces- 
 sively. That I love you long, that I have from my everlastingness, 
 for I am without end." " 
 
 The religious regression makes use indeed of the 
 parent image without, however, consciously making it an 
 object of transference, for the incest horror ^^ forbids 
 that. It remains rather as a synonym, for example, of the 
 father or of God, or of the more or less personified 
 symbol of the sun and fire.^^ Sun and fire — that is to say, 
 
 * Hear me, grant me my prayer — Binding together the fiery bolts of 
 heaven with spirit, two-bodied fiery sky, creator of humanity, fire-breathing, 
 fiery-spirited, spiritual being rejoicing in fire, beauty of humanity, ruler of 
 humanity of fierv body, light-giver to men, fire-scattering, fire-agitated, life 
 of humanity, fire-whirled, mover of men who confounds with thunder, 
 famed among men, increasing the human race, enlightening humanity, con- 
 queror of stars. 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH loi 
 
 the fructifying strength and heat — are attributes of the 
 libido. In Mysticism the inwardly perceived, divine 
 vision is often merely sun or light, and is very little, or 
 not at all, personified. In the MIthraic liturgy there is 
 found, for example, a significant quotation: 
 
 'H di nopsia rcdv opGo/xivcjy Qec^v 6ia rov diffxov, ita- 
 rpoi jjioVy Oeov (pavjjfferai.* 
 
 Hildegarde von Bingen (1100-1178) expresses herself 
 in the following manner : 
 
 24 
 
 " But the light I see is not local, but far off, and brighter than 
 the cloud which supports the sun. I can in no way know the 
 form of this light since I cannot entirely see the sun's disc. But 
 within this light I see at times, and infrequently, another light 
 which is called by me the living light, but when and in what 
 manner I see this I do not know how to say, and when I see it 
 all weariness and need is lifted from me, then too, I feel like a 
 simple girl and not like an old woman." 
 
 Symeon, the New Theologian (970-1040), says the 
 following : 
 
 " My tongue lacks words, and what happens in me my spirit 
 sees clearly but does not explain. It sees the invisible, that 
 emptiness of all forms, simple throughout, not complex, and in 
 extent infinite. For it sees no beginning, and it sees no end. It 
 is entirely unconscious of the meanings, and does not know what 
 to call that which it sees. Something complete appears, it seems 
 to me, not indeed through the being itself, but through a participa- 
 tion. For you enkindle fire from fire, and you receive the whole 
 fire; but this remains undiminished and undivided, as before. 
 Similarly, that which is divided separates itself from the first; and 
 like something corporeal spreads itself into several lights. This, 
 
 *The path of the visible Gods will appear through the sun, the God 
 my father. 
 
I02 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 however, is something spiritual, immeasurable, indivisible, and in- 
 exhaustible. For it is not separated when it becomes many, but 
 remains undivided and is in me, and enters within my poor heart 
 like a sun or circular disc of the sun, similar to the light, 
 for it is a light." " 
 
 That that thing, perceived as inner light, as the sun of 
 the other world. Is longing, Is clearly shown by Symeon's 
 words : ^^ 
 
 " And following It my spirit demanded to embrace the splendor 
 beheld, but it found It not as creature and did not succeed in 
 coming out from among created beings, so that it might embrace 
 that uncreated and uncomprehended splendor. Nevertheless it 
 wandered everywhere, and strove to behold It. It penetrated the 
 air, it wandered over the Heavens, it crossed over the abysses, it 
 searched, as it seemed to it, the ends of the world." But in all 
 of that it found nothing, for all was created. And I lamented 
 and was sorrowful, and my breast burned, and I lived as one 
 distraught in mind. But It came, as It would, and descending 
 like a luminous mystic cloud, It seemed to envelop my whole head so 
 that dismayed I cried out. But flying away again It left me alone. 
 And when I, troubled, sought for It, I realized suddenly that It 
 was in me, myself, and in the midst of my heart It appeared as 
 the light of a spherical sun." 
 
 In Nietzsche's " Glory and Eternity " we meet with an 
 essentially similar symbol : 
 
 " Hush! I see vastness! — and of vasty things 
 Shall man be done, unless he can enshrine 
 Them with his words? Then take the night which brings 
 The heart upon thy tongue, charmed wisdom mine! 
 
 " I look above, there rolls the star-strewn sea. 
 O night, mute silence, voiceless cry of stars! 
 And lo! A sign! The heaven its verge unbars — 
 A shining constellation falls towards me." * 
 * Translated by Dr. T. G. Wrench. 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 103 
 
 It is not astonishing if Nietzsche's great Inner loneli- 
 ness calls again Into existence certain forms of thought 
 which the mystic ecstasy of the old cults has elevated to 
 ritual representation. In the visions of the MIthralc 
 liturgy we have to deal with many similar representations 
 which we can now understand without difficulty as the 
 ecstatic symbol of the libido: 
 
 Mara 6e to sittsTv ffs rov dsvrspov Xoyov, ottov Giyrf 
 Si? Hal td anoXovOa, Gvpiffov dU uai TtovtTtvffov Si's xal 
 evOecD? oipei and rov Siffuov dffripa'? Trpoffepxo/Aevov? 7i8v- 
 raSaxrvXiaiovi nXeiarov? nai ninX^vrai oXov rov aepa. 
 2v Se TtdXiv Xeys: Giyr}, (Jiyrj. Kal rov Siffxov avoiyivTOS 
 otpei ocTteipov nvKXoofxa uai 6vpa5 nvpivai anoKeHXeiG- 
 fxiva?. * 
 
 Silence Is commanded, then the vision of light is re- 
 vealed. The similarity of the mystic's condition and 
 Nietzsche's poetical vision is surprising. Nietzsche says 
 " constellation." It Is well known that constellations are 
 chiefly therio- or anthropo-morphic symbols. 
 
 The papyrus says, aarkpai nBvraSaKrvXiaiov<i\ (sim- 
 ilar to the "rosy-fingered" Eos), which Is nothing else 
 than an anthropomorphic Image. Accordingly, one may 
 expect from that, that by long gazing a living being 
 would be formed out of the " flame Image," a " star 
 constellation " of therio- or anthropo-morphic nature, for 
 the symbolism of the libido does not end with sun, light 
 
 * After you have said the second prayer, when silence is twice com- 
 manded ; then whistle twice and snap twice,^* and straightway you will 
 see many five-pointed stars coming down from the sun and filling the whole 
 lower air. But say once again — Silence! Silence! and you, Neophyte, will 
 see the Circle and fiery doors cut ofif from the opening disc of the sun. 
 
 t Five-fingered stars. 
 
I04 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 and iire, but makes use of wholly other means of expres- 
 sion. I yield precedence to Nietzsche : 
 
 The Beacon * 
 
 " Here, where the island grew amid the seas, 
 A sacrificial rock high-towering, 
 Here under darkling heavens, 
 Zarathustra lights his mountain-fires. 
 
 " These flames with grey-white belly, 
 In cold distances sparkle their desire. 
 Stretches its neck towards ever purer heights — 
 A snake upreared in impatience: 
 
 " This signal I set up there before me. 
 This flame is mine own soul, 
 Insatiable for new distances. 
 Speeding upward, upward its silent heat. 
 
 " At all lonely ones I now throw my fishing rod. 
 Give answer to the flame's impatience. 
 Let me, the fisher on high mountains, 
 Catch my seventh, last solitude! " 
 
 Here libido becomes fire, flame and snake. The 
 Egyptian symbol of the "living disc of the sun," the disc 
 with the two entwining snakes, contains the combination 
 of both the libido analogies. The disc of the sun with 
 its fructifying warmth is analogous to the fructifying 
 warmth of love. The comparison of the libido with sun 
 and fire is in reality analogous. 
 
 There is also a " causative " element in it, for sun and 
 fire as beneficent powers are objects of human love; for 
 example, the sun-hero Mithra is called the " well- 
 
 * " Ecce Homo," translated by A. M. Ludovici. 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 105 
 
 belov^ed." In Nietzsche's poem the comparison is also a 
 causative one, but this time in a reversed sense. The 
 comparison with the snake is unequivocally phallic, cor- 
 responding completely with the tendency in antiquity, 
 which was to see In the symbol of the phallus the quintes- 
 sence of life and fruitfulness. The phallus is the source 
 of life and libido, the great creator and worker of 
 miracles, and as such it received reverence everywhere. 
 We have, therefore, three designating symbols of the 
 libido: First, the comparison by analogy, as sun and 
 fire. Second, the comparisons based on causative rela- 
 tions, as A: Object comparison. The libido is designated 
 by its object, for example, the beneficent sun. B : The sub- 
 ject comparison, in which the libido is designated by Its 
 place of origin or by analogies of this, for example, by 
 phallus or (analogous) snake. 
 
 To these two fundamental forms of comparison still a 
 third is added, in which the " tertlum comparationis " is 
 the activity; for example, the libido is dangerous when 
 fecundating like the bull — through the power of its pas- 
 sion — like the lion, like the raging boar when in heat, like 
 the ever-rutting ass, and so on. 
 
 This activity comparison can belong equally well to the 
 category of the analogous or to the category of the causa- 
 tive comparisons. The possibilities of comparison mean 
 just as many possibilities for symbolic expression, and 
 from this basis all the infinitely varied symbols, so far 
 as they are libido images, may properly be reduced to a 
 very simple root, that Is, just to libido and its fixed 
 primitive qualities. This psychologic reduction and sim- 
 
io6 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 plification Is in accordance with the historic efforts of civil- 
 ization to unify and simplify, to syncretize, the endless 
 number of the gods. We come across this desire as far 
 back as the old Egyptians, where the unlimited polytheism 
 as exemplified in the numerous demons of places finally 
 necessitated simplification. All the various local gods, 
 Amon of Thebes, Horus of Edfu, Horus of the East, 
 Chnum of Elephantine, Atum of Heliopolis, and others,"'* 
 )ecame identified with the sun God Re. In the hymns to 
 tfte sun the composite being Amon-Re-Harmachis-Atum 
 was invoked as " the only god which truly lives," ^" 
 _^ Amenhotep IV (XVIII dynasty) went the furthest 
 \ in this direction. He replaced all former gods by the 
 VlMivIng great disc of the sun," the official title reading: 
 
 " The sun ruling both horizons, triumphant in the horizon in 
 his name; the ghttering splendor which is in the sun's disc." 
 
 *' And, indeed," Erman adds,^^ " the sun, as a God, 
 should not be honored, but the sun itself as a planet which 
 imparts through its rays ^^ the infinite life which is in it 
 to all living creatures." 
 
 Amenhotep IV by his reform completed a work which 
 is psychologically important. He united all the bull,^^ 
 ram,^^ crocodile ^^ and pile-dwelling'^® gods into the disc 
 of the sun, and made it clear that their various attributes 
 were compatible with the sun's attributes," A similar 
 fate overtook the Hellenic and Roman polytheism 
 through the syncretistic efforts of later centuries. The 
 beautiful prayer of Lucius ^^ to the queen of the Heavens 
 furnishes an important proof of this: 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 107 
 
 " Queen of Heaven, whether thou art the genial Ceres, the 
 prime parent of fruits; — or whether thou art celestial Venus; — or 
 whether thou art the sister of Phoebus ; — or whether thou art Pros- 
 erpina, terrific with midnight howlings — with that feminine 
 brightness of thine illuminating the walls of every city." '^ 
 
 This attempt to gather again into a few units the re- 
 ligious thoughts which were divided Into countless varia- 
 tions and personified in individual gods according to 
 their polytheistic distribution and separation makes clear 
 the fact that already at an earlier time analogies had 
 formally arisen. Herodotus is rich in just such refer- 
 ences, not to mention the systems of the Hellenic-Roman 
 world. Opposed to the endeavor to form a unity there 
 stands a still stronger endeavor to create again and again 
 a multiplicity, so that even in the so-called severe mono- 
 theistic religions, as Christianity, for example, the polythe- 
 istic tendency is irrepressible. The Deity Is divided into 
 three parts at least, to which Is added the feminine Deity 
 of Mary and the numerous company of the lesser gods, 
 the angels and saints, respectively. These two tendencies 
 are in constant warfare. There Is only one God with 
 countless attributes, or else there are many gods who are 
 then simply known differently, according to locality, and 
 personify sometimes this, sometimes that attribute of the 
 fundamental thought, an example of which we have seen 
 above In the Egyptian gods. 
 
 With this we turn once more to Nietzsche's poem, 
 " The Beacon." We found the flame there used as an 
 Image of the libido, therlomorphlcally represented as a 
 snake (also as an image of the soul:*° "This flame Is 
 
io8 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 mine own soul "). We saw that the snake Is to be taken 
 as a phallic image of the libido (upreared in impatience), 
 and that this image, also an attribute of the conception of 
 the sun (the Egyptian sun idol), is an image of the 
 libido in the combination of sun and phallus. It is not 
 a wholly strange conception, therefore, that the sun's 
 disc is represented with a penis, as well as with hands and 
 feet. We find proof for this idea in a peculiar part of 
 the Mithraic liturgy : ojiioicj? 6t- xai 6 HaXovfisvo? avXo?, 
 T/ apxv ^^^ XeiTovpyovvTO? avijxov. "Oipsi yap ano rov 
 Siffnov cjs avXov xpsfxafxevov.* 
 
 This extremely important vision of a tube hanging 
 down from the sun would produce in a religious text, such 
 as that of the Mithraic liturgy, a strange and at the same 
 time meaningless effect if it did not have the phallic mean- 
 ing. The tube is the place of origin of the wind. The 
 phallic meaning seems very faint in this idea, but one 
 must remember that the wind, as well as the sun, is a 
 fructifier and creator. This has already been pointed out 
 in a footnote.*^ There is a picture by a Germanic painter 
 of the Middle Ages of the " conceptio immaculata " 
 which deserves mention here. The conception is repre- 
 sented by a tube or pipe coming down from heaven and 
 passing beneath the skirt of Mary. Into this flies the 
 Holy Ghost in the form of a dove for the impregnation 
 of the Mother of God.*' 
 
 Honegger discovered the following hallucination in an 
 insane man (paranoid dement) : The patient sees In the 
 
 * In like manner the so-called tube, the origin of the ministering wind, 
 will become visible. For it will appear to you as a tube hanging down 
 from the sun. 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 109 
 
 sun an " upright tail " similar to an erected penis. When 
 he moves his head back and forth, then, too, the sun's 
 penis sways back and forth in a like manner, and out of 
 that the wind arises. This strange hallucination remained 
 unintelligible to us for a long time until I became ac- 
 quainted with the Mithraic liturgy and its visions. This 
 hallucination threw an illuminating light, as it appears to 
 me, upon a very obscure place in the text which immedi- 
 ately follows the passage previously cited : 
 
 €i? de rd jxspr} ra rcpo? \ifta ankpavrov oiov aTti^Xioorrfv. 
 Eav Tj hskXtjpgo/xsvoS si? de rd ^lipt] rov anrfki(£)r ov o 
 k'repo?, o/AoiGo? €i? rd f^spt] rd ineivov oipei rrjv a7Cog)opdv 
 rov opdjxaro?. 
 
 Mead translates this very clearly : *^ 
 
 " And towards the regions westward, as though it were an 
 infinite Eastwind. But if the other wind, towards the regions 
 of the East, should be in service, in the like fashion shalt thou 
 see towards the regions of that side the converse of the sight." 
 
 In the original opa/xa is the vision, the thing seen. 
 aTtogjopd means properly the carrying away. The 
 sense of the text, according to this, might be: the thing 
 seen may be carried or turned sometimes here, sometimes 
 there, according to the direction of the wind. The 
 opafxa is the tube, " the place of origin of the wind," 
 which turns sometimes to the east, sometimes to the west, 
 and, one might add, generates the corresponding wind. 
 The vision of the insane man coincides astonishingly with 
 this description of the movement of the tube.** 
 
no PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 The various attributes of the sun, separated into a 
 series, appear one after the other in the Mithralc 
 liturgy. According to the vision of Helios, seven 
 maidens appear with the heads of snakes, and seven gods 
 with the heads of black bulls. 
 
 It is easy to understand the maiden as a symbol of the 
 libido used In the sense of causative comparison. The 
 snake In Paradise Is usually considered as feminine, as the 
 seductive principle In woman, and Is represented as femi- 
 nine by the old artists, although properly the snake has a 
 phallic meaning. Through a similar change of meaning 
 the snake in antiquity becomes the symbol of the earth, 
 which on Its side Is always considered feminine. The bull 
 is the well-known symbol for the fruitfulness of the 
 sun. The bull gods In the Mithralc liturgy were called 
 uvoodaKOcpv'kaHSi, " guardians of the axis of the earth," 
 by whom the axle of the orb of the heavens was turned. 
 The divine man, Mithra, also had the same attributes; 
 he Is sometimes called the "Sol invlctus " Itself, some- 
 times the mighty companion and ruler of Helios; he holds 
 in his right hand the " bear constellation, which moves 
 and turns the heavens." The bull-headed gods, equally 
 tepoi Hal aXKipioi veaviai with Mithra himself, to 
 whom the attribute vecarepo?, " young one," " the new- 
 comer," Is given, are merely attributive components of 
 the same divinity. The chief god of the Mithralc liturgy 
 is himself subdivided into Mithra and Helios; the attri- 
 butes of each of these are closely related to the other. 
 Of Helios it is said: orpsi 6e6v veoorepov evsidrj TtvpivO' 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH in 
 
 rpixct iv jrrfi3rr Xsvnai Ha) x^^M^^^ HOUHivrj, sxovta 
 nvpivov GTegiavov* 
 
 Of Mithra it is said: otpei deov vnEpfxEyeOrf, cpcorivrjv 
 sxovta TTjv oipiv, veooTspov, xP^^^^^^ofzav, iv xiT(^vi Xevucp 
 xai xpvffcp ffTsrpdvcp Hat dva^vpiffi, uarexovTa rfj ds^ia 
 X^ip't ixoaxov a>ju6v xpvffsov, o? effriv dpiiro? r/ uivov&a 
 nai avTi(JtpEq)0V(3a Tov ovpavov, Kara oopav avaTtoXEV- 
 ouffa xai HatanoXevovSa. i'mira otpsi avTov sh rcav 
 oixfxocToov ocffTpandi xai ix tov (Joopiaroi aarepai dXXopii- 
 vovi. f 
 
 If we place fire and gold as essentially similar, then a 
 great accord is found in the attributes of the two gods. 
 To these mystical pagan ideas there deserve to be added 
 the probably almost contemporaneous vision of Revela- 
 tion: 
 
 " And being turned, I saw seven golden candlesticks. And 
 in the midst of the candlesticks *^ one like unto the son of man, 
 clothed with a garment down to the foot, and girt about at the 
 breasts with a golden girdle. And his head and his hair were 
 white as white wool, white as snow, and his eyes were as a flame 
 of fire. And his feet like unto burnished brass, as if it had been 
 refined in a furnace; and his voice as the sound of many waters. 
 And he had in his right hand seven stars,**' and out of his mouth 
 proceeded a sharp two-edged sword, ^' and his countenance was 
 as the sun shineth in his strength." — Rev. i: 12 ff. 
 
 " And I looked, and beheld a white cloud, and upon the cloud 
 
 * " You will see the god youthful, graceful, with glowing locks, in a 
 white garment and a scarlet cloak, with a fiery helmet." 
 
 t" You will see a god very powerful, with a shining countenance, 
 young, with golden hair, clothed in white vestments, with a golden 
 crown, holding in his right hand a bullock's golden shoulder, that is, the 
 bear constellation, which wandering hourly up and down, moves and 
 turns the heavens: then out of his eyes you will see lightning spring forth 
 and from his body, stars." 
 
112 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 I saw one sitting like unto the son of man, having on his head a 
 golden crown, and in his hand a sharp sickle." *' — Rev. xiv: 14. 
 
 " And his eyes were as a flame of fire, and upon his head were 
 many diadems. And he was arrayed in a garment *° sprinkled 
 with blood. . . . And the armies which were in heaven followed 
 him upon white horses, clothed in fine linen, °'' white and pure. 
 And out of his mouth proceeded a sharp sword." — Rev. xix: 
 12-15. 
 
 One need not assume that there is a direct dependency 
 between the Apocalypse and the Mithraic liturgy. The 
 visionary images of both texts are developed from a 
 source, not limited to one place, but found in the soul 
 of many divers people, because the symbols which arise 
 from it are too typical for it to belong to one individual 
 only. I put these images here to show how the primitive 
 symbolism of light gradually developed, with the increas- 
 ing depth of the vision, into the idea of the sun-hero, the 
 " well-beloved." ^^ The development of the symbol of 
 light is thoroughly typical. In addition to this, perhaps 
 I might call to mind the fact that I have previously 
 pointed out this course with numerous examples,^- and, 
 therefore, I can spare myself the trouble of returning to 
 this subject.^^ These visionary occurrences are the psy- 
 chological roots of the sun-coronations in the mysteries. 
 Its rite is religious hallucination congealed into liturgical 
 form, which, on account of its great regularity, could be- 
 come a generally accepted outer form. After all this, it 
 is easily understood how the ancient Christian Church, on 
 one side, stood in an especial bond to Christ as " sol 
 novus," and, on the other side, had a certain difficulty in 
 freeing itself from the earthly symbols of Christ. Indeed 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 113 
 
 Philo of Alexandria saw in the sun the image of the divine 
 logos or of the Deity especially (" De Somniis," i : 85). 
 In an Ambrosian hymn Christ is invoked by " O sol 
 salutis," and so on. At the time of Marcus Aurelius, 
 Meliton, in his work,^* Ttepl Xovrpov, called Christ the 
 "HXio? avaroAij? . . . /xovo? rjXioi ovto? averEiksv an' 
 ovpavov* 
 
 Still more important is a passage from Pseudo-Cyp- 
 rian: '"^ 
 
 " O quam praeclara providentia ut illo die quo factus est sol, 
 in ipso die nasceretur Christus, v. Kal. Apr. feria IV, et ideo 
 de ipso ad plebem dicebat Malachias propheta: ' Orietur vobis 
 sol iustitis et curatio est in pennis ejus,' hie est sol iustitiee cuis 
 in pennis curatio praeostendebatur." f " 
 
 In a work nominally attributed to John Chrysostomus, 
 " De Solstitiis et Aequinoctiis," " occurs this passage: 
 
 " Sed et dominus nascitur mense Decembri hiemis tempore, 
 VIII. Kal. Januarias, quando oleae maturas prasmuntur ut unctio, 
 id est Chrisma, nascatur — sed et Invicti natalem appellant. Quis 
 utique tarn invictus nisi dominus noster qui mortem subactam 
 devicit? Vel quod dicant Solis esse natalem, ipse est sol iustitiae, 
 de quo Malachias propheta dixit: ' Dominus lucis ac noctis con- 
 ditor et discretor qui a phopheta Sol iustitiae cognominatus est.' " t 
 
 * Helios, the rising sun — the only sun rising from heaven! 
 
 t " O, how remarkable a providence that Christ should be born on the 
 same day on which the sun moves onward, V. Kal. of April the fourth 
 holiday, and for this reason the prophet Malachi spoke to the people 
 concerning Christ: ' Unto you shall the sun of righteousness arise with 
 healing in his wings, this is the sun of righteousness in whose wings heal- 
 ing shall be displayed.' " 
 
 t Moreover the Lord is born in the month of December in the winter on 
 the 8th Kal. of January when the ripe olives are gathered, so that the oil, 
 that is the chrism, may be produced, moreover they call it the birthday of 
 the Unconquered One. Who in any case is as unconquered as our Lord, 
 who conquered death itself? Or why should they call it the birthday of 
 
114 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 According to the testimony of Eusebius of Alexandria, 
 the Christians also shared in the worship of the rising 
 sun, which lasted into the fifth century : 
 
 ovai Toi? TrpoffHVvovffi tov tjXiov nal trfv GsXrfvrfv uai 
 Tov? d(}Tepa<;. IIoXXov? yap oida tov? Ttpoffnvvovvra? nal 
 svxo/uiyov? eii tov tjXiov. "HStj yap avaTsiXavTO? tov 
 rjXiov, npoSEVxovTai nal Xiyovffiv '"EXerjffov i^fxa?" xai ov 
 fj.6vov 'HXioyvGoffTai uai aipsTinoi tovto noiovffiv aXXa 
 Hal xPi^T^'X^oi Kai aqjsvTSS Tijv niffTiv roii aipSTtxci? 
 (SvvafxiyvvvTai.* 
 
 Augustine preached emphatically to the Christians: 
 
 " Non est Dominus Sol factus sed per quern Sol factus est — ne 
 quis carnaliter sapiens Solem istum (Christum) intelligendum 
 putaret." 
 
 Art has preserved much of the remnants of sun- 
 worship,^® thus the nimbus around the head of Christ and 
 the halo of the saints in general. The Christian legends 
 also attribute many fire and light symbols to the saints. ^^ 
 The twelve apostles, for example, are likened to the 
 twelve signs of the zodiac, and are represented, there- 
 fore, with a star over the head.®" 
 
 It is not to be wondered at that the heathen, as Ter- 
 tuUian avows, considered the sun as the Christian God. 
 
 the sun; he himself is the sun of righteousness, concerning ■whom Malachi, 
 the prophet, spoke: 'The Lord is the author of light and of darkness, he 
 is the judge spoken of by the prophet as the Sun of righteousness.' " 
 
 * " Ah ! woe to the worshippers of the sun and the moon and the stars. 
 For I know many worshippers and prayer sayers to the sun. For now 
 at the rising of the sun, they worship and say, ' Have mercy on us,' and 
 not only the sun-gnostics and the heretics do this, but also Christians 
 who leave their faith and mix with the heretics." 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 115 ' 
 
 Among the Manichasans God was really the sun. One 
 of the most remarkable works extant, where the Pagan, 
 Asiatic, Hellenic and Christian intermingle, is the 
 E^Tfyrfffis Ttepi rcdv ev Ilspffidi TtpaxBevroov, edited by 
 Wirth.®^ This is a book of fables, but, nevertheless, a 
 mine for near-Christian phantasies, which gives a pro- 
 found insight into Christian symbolism. In this is found 
 the following magical dedication : ^u 'HXicp deep fxsyaXcp 
 /SaffiXsi Ui]aov — * In certain parts of Armenia the 
 rising sun is still worshipped by Christians, that " it 
 may let its foot rest upon the faces of the wor- 
 shippers." ^" The foot occurs as an anthropomorphic at- 
 tribute, and we have already met the theriomorphic 
 attribute in the feathers and the sun phallus. Other com- 
 parisons of the sun's ray, as knife, sword, arrow, and so 
 on, have also, as we have learned from the psychology 
 of the dream, a phallic meaning at bottom. This mean- 
 ing is attached to the foot as I here point out,®^ and also 
 to the feathers, or hair, of the sun, which signify the 
 power or strength of the sun. I refer to the story of 
 Samson, and to that of the Apocalypse of Baruch, con- 
 cerning the phoenix bird, which, flying before the sun, loses 
 its feathers, and, exhausted, is strengthened again in an 
 ocean bath at evening. 
 
 Under the symbol of " moth and sun " we have dug 
 down into the historic depths of the soul, and in doing 
 this we have uncovered an old buried idol, the youthful, 
 beautiful, fire-encircled and halo-crowned sun-hero, who, 
 forever unattainable to the mortal, wanders upon the 
 
 *"To Zeus, the Great Sun God, the King, the Saviour." 
 
ii6 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 earth, causing night to follow day; winter, summer; death, 
 life; and who returns again in rejuvenated splendor and 
 gives light to new generations. The longing of the 
 dreamer concealed behind the moth stands for him. 
 
 The ancient pre-Asiatic civilizations were acquainted 
 with a sun-worship having the idea of a God dying and 
 rising again (Osiris, Tammuz, Attis-Adonis) ,"* Christ, 
 Mithra and his bull,®^ Phoenix and so on. The beneficent 
 power as well as the destroying power was worshipped in 
 fire. The forces of nature always have two sides, as we 
 have already seen in the God of Job. This reciprocal 
 bond brings us back once more to Miss Miller's poem. 
 Her reminiscences support our previous supposition, that 
 the symbol of moth and sun Is a condensation of two 
 ideas, about one of which we have just spoken; the other 
 is the moth and the flame. As the title of a play, about 
 the contents of which the author tells us absolutely noth- 
 ing, " Moth and Flame " may easily have the well-known 
 erotic meaning of flying around the flame of passion until 
 one's wings are burned. The passionate longing, that is 
 to say, the libido, has its two sides; it is power which 
 beautifies everything, and which under other circum- 
 stances destroys everything. It often appears as if one 
 could not accurately understand in what the destroying 
 quality of the creative power consists, A woman who 
 gives herself up to passion, particularly under the present- 
 day condition of culture, experiences the destructive side 
 only too soon. One has only to Imagine one's self a little 
 away from the every-day moral conditions In order to 
 understand what feelings of extreme Insecurity overwhelm 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 117 
 
 the individual who gives himself unconditionally over to 
 Fate. 
 
 To be fruitful means, indeed, to destroy one's self, be- 
 cause with the rise of the succeeding generation the pre- 
 vious one has passed beyond its highest point; thus our 
 descendants are our most dangerous enemies, whom we 
 cannot overcome, for they will outlive us, and, there- 
 fore, without fail, will take the power from our en- 
 feebled hands. The anxiety in the face of the erotic fate 
 is wholly understandable, for there is something immeas- 
 urable therein. Fate usually hides unknown dangers, and 
 the perpetual hesitation of the neurotic to venture upon 
 life is easily explained by his desire to be allowed to stand 
 still, so as not to take part in the dangerous battle of life.^^ 
 Whoever renounces the chance to experience must stifle 
 in himself the wish for it, and, therefore, commits a sort 
 of self-murder. From this the death phantasies which 
 readily accompany the renunciation of the erotic wish 
 are made clear. In the poem Miss Miller has voiced 
 these phantasies. 
 
 She adds further to the material with the following: 
 
 " I had been reading a selection from one of Byron's poems 
 which pleased me very much and made a deep and lasting im- 
 pression. Moreover, the rhythm of my last two verses, ' For I 
 the source, etc.,' and the two lines of Byron's are very similar. 
 
 ' Now let me die as I have lived in faith, 
 Nor tremble though the universe should quake.' " 
 
 This reminiscence with which the series of ideas is 
 closed confirms the death phantasies which follow from 
 
ii8 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 renunciation of the erotic wish. The quotation comes — 
 which Miss Miller did not mention — from an uncompleted 
 poem of Byron's called " Heaven and Earth." ^^ The 
 whole verse follows: 
 
 " Still blessed be the Lord, 
 For what is passed, 
 For that which is; 
 For all are His, 
 From first to last — 
 
 Time — Space — Eternity — Life — Death — 
 The vast known and immeasurable unknown 
 He made and can unmake, 
 And shall I for a little gasp of breath 
 Blaspheme and groan? 
 No, let me die as I have lived in faith, 
 Nor quiver though the universe may quake! " 
 
 The words are included in a kind of praise or prayer, 
 spoken by a " mortal " who is in hopeless flight before 
 the mounting deluge. Miss Miller puts herself in the 
 same situation in her quotation; that is to say, she readily 
 lets it be seen that her feeling is similar to the despond- 
 ency of the unhappy ones who find themselves hard 
 pressed by the threatening mounting waters of the deluge. 
 With this the writer allows us a deep look into the dark 
 abyss of her longing for the sun-hero. We see that her 
 longing is in vain; she is a mortal, only for a short time 
 borne upwards into the light by means of the highest 
 longing, and then sinking to death, or, much more, urged 
 upwards by the fear of death, like the people before the 
 deluge, and in spite of the desperate conflict, irretriev- 
 ably given over to destruction. This is a mood which re- 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 119 
 
 calls vividly the closing scene in " Cyrano de Ber- 
 gerac":'^ 
 
 Cyrano : 
 
 Oh, mais . . . puisqu'elle est en chemin, 
 Je I'attendrai debout . . . et I'epee a la main. 
 
 Que dites-vous? . . . C'est inutile? Je le sais. 
 
 Mais on ne se bat pas dans I'espoir du succes. 
 
 Non, non. C'est bien plus beau lorsque c'est inutile. 
 
 Je sais bien qu'a la fin vous me mettrez a bas. . . . 
 
 We already know sufficiently well what longing and 
 what impulse it is that attempts to clear a way for itself 
 to the light, but that it may be realized quite clearly and 
 irrevocably, it is shown plainly in the quotation " No, let 
 me die," which confirms and completes all earlier remarks. 
 The divine, the " much-beloved," who is honored in the 
 image of the sun, is also the goal of the longing of our 
 poet. 
 
 Byron's " Heaven and Earth " is a mystery founded on 
 the following passage from Genesis, chapter vi : 2 : 
 " And it came to pass . . . that the sons of God saw the 
 daughters of men that they were fair, and they took 
 them wives of all that they chose." Byron offers as a 
 further motif for his poem the following passage from 
 Coleridge : " And woman wailing for her Demon lover." 
 Byron's poem is concerned with two great events, one 
 psychologic and one telluric; the passion which throws 
 down all barriers; and all the terrors of the unchained 
 powers of nature : a parallel which has already been in- 
 troduced into our earlier discussion. The angels Samiasa 
 
120 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 and Azazlel burn with sinful love for the beautiful 
 daughters of Cain, Anah and Aholibama, and force a 
 way through the barrier which is placed between mortal 
 and immortal. They revolt as Lucifer once did against 
 God, and the archangel Raphael raises his voice warn- 
 ingly : 
 
 " But man hath listened to his voice 
 And ye to woman's — beautiful she is, 
 The serpent's voice less subtle than her kiss. 
 The snake but vanquished dust; but she will draw 
 A second host from heaven to break heaven's law." 
 
 The power of God is threatened by the seduction of 
 passion; a second fall of angels menaces heaven. Let us 
 translate this mythologic projection back into the psycho- 
 logic, from whence it originated. Then it would read: 
 the power of the good and reasonable ruling the world 
 wisely is threatened by the chaotic primitive power of pas- 
 sion; therefore passion must be exterminated; that is to 
 say, projected into mythology. The race of Cain and 
 the whole sinful world must be destroyed from the roots 
 by the deluge. It is the inevitable result of that sinful 
 passion which has broken through all barriers. Its coun- 
 terpart is the sea and the waters of the deep and the 
 floods of rain,^^ the generating, fructifying and " mater- 
 nal waters," as the Indian mythology refers to them. 
 Now they leave their natural bounds and surge over the 
 mountain tops, engulfing all living things; for passion de- 
 stroys itself. The libido is God and Devil. With the 
 destruction of the sinfulness of the libido an essential 
 
 1 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 121 
 
 portion of the libido would be destroyed. Through the 
 loss of the Devil, God himself suffered a considerable loss, 
 somewhat like an amputation upon the body of the 
 Divinity. The mysterious hint In Raphael's lament con- 
 cerning the two rebels, Samiasa and Azaziel, suggests 
 this. 
 
 ". . . . Why, 
 Cannot this earth be made, or be destroyed, 
 Without involving ever some vast void 
 In the immortal ranks? . . ." 
 
 Love raises man, not only above himself, but also 
 above the bounds of his mortality and earthliness, up to 
 divinity Itself, and in the very act of raising him it de- 
 stroys him. Mythologically, this self-presumption finds 
 Its striking expression In the building of the heaven-high 
 tower of Babel, which brings confusion to mankind. '^° 
 In Byron's poem It is the sinful ambition of the race of 
 Cain, for love of which it makes even the stars sub- 
 servient and leads away the sons of God themselves. If, 
 indeed, longing for the highest things — if I may speak 
 so — is legitimate, then It lies In the circumstances that it 
 leaves its human boundaries, that of sinfulness, and, 
 therefore, destruction. The longing of the moth for the 
 star is not absolutely pure and transparent, but glows in 
 sultry mist, for man continues to be man. Through the 
 excess of his longing he draws down the divine into the 
 corruption of his passion;" therefore, he seems to raise 
 himself to the Divine; but with that his humanity is de- 
 stroyed. Thus the love of Anah and Ahollbama for their 
 angels becomes the ruin of gods and men. The invoca- 
 
122 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 tion with which Cain's daughters implore their angels is 
 psychologically an exact parallel to Miss Miller's poem. 
 
 Anahr' 
 Seraph ! 
 
 From thy sphere! 
 Whatever star " contains thy glory. 
 
 In the eternal depths of heaven 
 Albeit thou watchest with the ' seven,' 
 Though through space infinite and hoary 
 Before thy bright wings worlds will be driven, 
 
 Yet hear! 
 Oh! think of her who holds thee dear! 
 
 And though she nothing is to thee, 
 Yet think that thou art all to her. 
 
 Eternity is in thy years. 
 
 Unborn, undying beauty in thine eyes; 
 
 With me thou canst not sympathize. 
 
 Except in love, and there thou must 
 
 Acknowledge that more loving dust 
 
 Ne'er wept beneath the skies. 
 
 Thou walkest thy many worlds,^* thou seest 
 
 The face of him who made thee great, 
 
 As he hath made of me the least 
 
 Of those cast out from Eden's gate; 
 
 Yet, Seraph, dear! 
 
 Oh hear! 
 For thou hast loved me, and I would not die 
 Until I know what I must die in knowing, 
 That thou forgettest in thine eternity 
 Her whose heart death could not keep from o'erflowing 
 For thee, immortal essence as thou art," 
 Great is their love who love in sin and fear ; 
 And such, I feel, are waging in my heart 
 A war unworthy: to an Adamite 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 123 
 
 Forgive, my Seraph! that such thoughts appear. 
 For sorrow is our element. . . . 
 
 The hour is near 
 Which tells me we are not abandoned quite. 
 
 Appear ! Appear ! 
 
 Seraph ! 
 My own Azaziel! be but here, 
 And leave the stars to their own light. 
 
 Aholibama: 
 
 I call thee, I await thee and I love thee. 
 
 Though I be formed of clay. 
 
 And thou of beams " 
 
 More bright than those of day on Eden's streams, 
 
 Thine immortality cannot repay 
 
 With love more warm than mine 
 
 My love. There is a ray '^ 
 
 In me, which though forbidden yet to shine, 
 
 I feel was lighted at thy God's and mine." 
 
 It may be hidden long: death and decay 
 
 Our mother Eve bequeathed us — but my heart 
 
 Defies it: though this life must pass away, 
 
 Is that a cause for thee and me to part? 
 
 I can share all things, even immortal sorrow; 
 
 For thou hast ventured to share life with me, 
 
 And shall I shrink from thine eternity? 
 
 No, though the serpent's sting '^ should pierce me through, 
 
 And thou thyr-elf wert like the serpent, coil 
 
 Around me still.*" And I will smile 
 
 And curse thee not, but hold 
 
 Thee in as warm a fold 
 
 As — but descend and prove 
 
 A mortal's love 
 
 Fox <n immortal. . . <> 
 
124 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 The apparition of both angels which follows the invo- 
 cation is, as always, a shining vision of light. 
 
 Aholibama: 
 The clouds from off their pinions flinging 
 As though they bore to-morrow's light. 
 
 Anah: 
 But if our father see the sight! 
 
 Aholibama: 
 He would but deem it was the moon 
 Rising unto some sorcerer's tune 
 An hour too soon. 
 
 Anah: 
 Lo! They have kindled all the west, 
 Like a returning sunset. . . . 
 On Ararat's late secret crest 
 A wild and many colored bow, 
 The remnant of their flashing path, 
 Now shines ! . . . 
 
 At the sight of this many-colored vision of light, where 
 both women are entirely filled with desire and expecta- 
 tion, Anah makes use of a simile full of presentiment, 
 which suddenly allows us to look down once more into 
 the dismal dark depths, out of which for a moment the 
 terrible animal nature of the mild god of light emerges. 
 
 "... and now, behold ! it hath 
 Returned to night, as rippling foam, 
 Which the leviathan hath lashed 
 From his unfathomable home, 
 When sporting on the face of the calm deep. 
 Subsides soon after he again hath dash'd 
 Down, down to where the ocean's fountains sleep." 
 
THE SONG OF THE MOTH 125 
 
 Thus like the leviathan ! We recall this overpowering 
 weight in the scale of God's justice in regard to the man 
 Job. There, where the deep sources of the ocean are, the 
 leviathan lives; from there the all-destroying flood 
 ascends, the all-engulfing flood of animal passion. That 
 stifling, compressing feeling ^^ of the onward-surging im- 
 pulse is projected mythologically as a flood which, rising 
 up and over all, destroys all that exists, in order to allow 
 a new and better creation to come forth from this de- 
 struction. 
 
 Japhet: 
 
 The eternal will 
 
 Shall deign to expound this dream 
 Of good and evil ; and redeem 
 Unto himself all times, all things; 
 
 And, gather'd under his almighty wings, 
 
 Abolish hell! 
 
 And to the expiated Earth 
 
 Restore the beauty of her birth. 
 
 Spirits : 
 
 And when shall take effect this wondrous spell? 
 
 Japhet : 
 
 When the Redeemer cometh ; first in pain 
 And then in glory. 
 
 Spirits : 
 
 New times, new climes, new arts, new men, but still 
 
 The same old tears, old crimes, and oldest ill. 
 
 Shall be amongst your race in different forms; 
 
 But the same mortal storms 
 
 Shall oversweep the future, as the waves 
 
 In a few hours the glorious giants' graves. 
 
126 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 The prophetic visions of Japhet have almost prophetic 
 meaning for our poetess; with the death of the moth in 
 the Hght, evil is once more laid aside; the complex has 
 once again, even if in a censored form, expressed itself. 
 With that, however, the problem is not solved; all sor- 
 row and every longing begins again from the beginning, 
 but there is " Promise in the Air " — the premonition of 
 the Redeemer, of the " Well-beloved," of the Sun-hero, 
 who again mounts to the height of the sun and again 
 descends to the coldness of the winter, who is the light of 
 hope from race to race, the image of the libido. 
 
PART II 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 ASPECTS OF THE LIBIDO 
 
 Before I enter upon the contents of this second part, it 
 seems necessary to cast a backward glance over the sin- 
 gular train of thought which the analysis of the poem 
 " The Moth to the Sun " has produced. Although this 
 poem is very different from the foregoing Hymn of Crea- 
 tion, closer investigation of the " longing for the sun " 
 has carried us into the realm of the fundamental ideas of 
 religion and astral mythology, which ideas are closely 
 related to those considered in the first poem. The crea- 
 tive God of the first poem, whose dual nature, moral and 
 physical, was shown especially clearly to us by Job, has 
 in the second poem a new qualification of astral-mytho- 
 logical, or, to express it better, of astrological character. 
 The God becomes the sun, and in this finds an adequate 
 natural expression quite apart from the moral division of 
 the God idea into the heavenly father and the devil. 
 The sun is, as Renan remarked, really the only rational 
 representation of God, whether we take the point of 
 view of the barbarians of other ages or that of the modern 
 physical sciences. In both cases the sun is the parent God, 
 mythologically predominantly the Father God, from 
 whom all living things draw life; He is the fructifier and 
 
 127 
 
128 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 creator of all that lives, the source of energy of our 
 world. The discord into which the soul of man has fallen 
 through the action oi moral laws ^ can be resolved 
 into complete harmony through the sun as the natural 
 object which obeys no human moral lav/. The sun is not 
 only beneficial, but also destructive; therefore the zodi- 
 acal representation of the August heat is the herd-devour- 
 ing lion whom the Jewish hero Samson " killed in order to 
 free the parched earth from this plague. Yet it is the 
 harmonious and inherent nature of the sun to scorch, and 
 its scorching power seems natural to men. It shines 
 equally on the just and on the unjust, and allows useful 
 living objects to flourish as well as harmful ones. There- 
 fore, the sun is adapted as is nothing else to represent 
 the visible God of this world. That is to say, that driving 
 strength of our own soul, which we call libido, and 
 whose nature it is to allow the useful and injurious, the 
 good and the bad to proceed. That this comparison is no 
 mere play of words is taught us by the mystics. When 
 by looking inwards (introversion) and going down into 
 the depths of their own being they find " in their heart " 
 the image of the Sun, they find their own love or libido, 
 which with reason, I might say with physical reason, is 
 called the Sun; for our source of energy and life is the 
 Sun. Thus our life substance, as an energic process, is 
 entirely Sun. Of what special sort this " Sun energy " 
 seen inwardly by the mystic is, is shown by an example 
 taken from the Hindoo mythology.^ From the explana- 
 tion of Part III of the " Shvetashvataropanishad " we 
 take the following quotation, which relates to the Rudra : * 
 
ASPECTS OF THE LIBIDO 129 
 
 (2) "Yea, the one Rudra who all these worlds with ruling 
 power doth rule, stands not for any second. Behind those that 
 are born he stands; at ending time ingathers all the worlds he 
 hath evolved, protector (he). 
 
 (3) "He hath eyes on all sides, on all sides surely hath faces, 
 arms surely on all sides, on all sides feet. With arms, with wings 
 he tricks them out, creating heaven and earth, the only God. 
 
 (4) " Who of the gods is both the source and growth, the Lord 
 of all, the Rudra. Mighty seer; who brought the shining germ 
 of old into existence — may he with reason pure conjoin us." ^ 
 
 These attributes allow us clearly to discern the all- 
 creator and in him the Sun, which has wings and with a 
 thousand eyes scans the world.® 
 
 The following passages confirm the text and join to it 
 the idea most important for us, that God is also contained 
 in the individual creature : 
 
 (7) "Beyond this (world) the Brahman beyond, the mighty 
 one, in every creature hid according to its form, the one encircling 
 Lord of all, Him having known, immortal they become. 
 
 (8) "I know this mighty man, Sun-like, beyond the darkness. 
 Him (and him) only knowing, one crosseth over death; no other 
 path (at all) is there to go. 
 
 (11) ". . . spread over the universe is He the Lord there- 
 fore as all-pervader, He's benign." 
 
 The powerful God, the equal of the Sun, Is In that 
 one, and whoever knows him Is Immortal.^ Going on 
 further with the text, we come upon a new attribute, 
 which Informs us in what form and manner Rudra lived 
 in men. 
 
 (12) "The mighty monarch. He, the man, the one who doth 
 the essence start towards that peace of perfect stainlessness, lordly, 
 exhaustless light. 
 
I30 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 (13) "The Man, the size of a thumb, the inner self, sits 
 ever in the heart of all that's born, by mind, mind ruling in the 
 heart, is He revealed. That they vi^ho know, immortal they be- 
 come. 
 
 (14) "The Man of the thousands of heads (and) thousands 
 of eyes (and) thousands of feet, covering the earth on all sides, 
 He stands beyond, ten finger-breadths. 
 
 (15) "The Man is verily this all, (both) what has been and 
 what will be, Lord (too) of deathlessness which far all else 
 surpasses." 
 
 Important parallel quotations are to be found in the 
 " Kathopanishad," section 2, part 4. 
 
 (12) "The Man of the size of a thumb, resides in the midst 
 within the self, of the past and the future, the Lord. 
 
 (13) " The Man of the size of a thumb like flame free from 
 smoke, of past and of future the Lord, the same is to-day, to- 
 morrow the same will He be." 
 
 Who this Tom-Thumb is can easily be divined — the 
 phallic symbol of the libido. The phallus is this hero 
 dwarf, who performs great deeds; he, this ugly god 
 in homely form, who is the great doer of wonders, 
 since he is the visible expression of the creative strength 
 incarnate In man. This extraordinary contrast is also 
 very striking In " Faust" (the mother scene) : 
 
 Mephistopheles: 
 
 I'll praise thee ere we separate: I see 
 Thou knowest the devil thoroughly: 
 Here take this key. 
 
 Faust: 
 
 That little thing! 
 
 Mephistopheles: 
 
 Take hold of it, not undervaluing! 
 
ASPECTS OF THE LIBIDO 131 
 
 Faust : 
 It glows, it shines, increases in my hand! 
 
 Mephistopheles: 
 How much it is worth, thou soon shalt understand, 
 The key will scent the true place from all others! 
 Follow it down I — 'twill lead thee to the Mothers 1 * 
 
 Here the devil again puts into Faust's hand the mar- 
 vellous tool, a phallic symbol of the libido, as once before 
 in the beginning the devil, in the form of the black dog, 
 accompanied Faust, when he introduced himself with the 
 words: 
 
 " Part of that power, not understood, 
 Which always wills the bad and always creates the good." 
 
 United to this strength, Faust succeeded in accomplish- 
 ing his real life task, at first through evil adventure and 
 then for the benefit of humanity, for without the evil 
 there is no creative power. Here in the mysterious 
 mother scene, where the poet unveils the last mystery of 
 the creative power to the initiated, Faust has need of the 
 phallic magic wand (In the magic strength of which he 
 has at first no confidence), in order to perform the 
 greatest of wonders, namely, the creation of Paris and 
 Helen. With that Faust attains the divine power of 
 working miracles, and, Indeed, only by means of this 
 small, insignificant Instrument. This paradoxical impres- 
 sion seems to be very ancient, for even the Upanishads 
 could say the following of the dwarf god: 
 
 * BaN^ard Taylor's translation of " Faust " is used throughout this book. 
 — Translator. 
 
132 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 (19) " Without hands, without feet, He moveth, He graspeth: 
 Eyeless He seeth, (and) earless He heareth: He knoweth what is 
 to be known, yet is there no knower of Him. Him call the first, 
 mighty the Man. 
 
 (20) "Smaller than small, (yet) greater than great in the 
 heart of this creature the self doth repose . . . etc." 
 
 The phallus is the being, which moves without limbs, 
 which sees without eyes, which knows the future ; and as 
 symbolic representative of the universal creative power 
 existent everywhere immortality is vindicated In It. It Is 
 always thought of as entirely Independent, an Idea cur- 
 rent not only In antiquity, but also apparent In the porno- 
 graphic drawings of our children and artists. It Is a seer, 
 an artist and a worker of wonders; therefore It should 
 not surprise us when certain phallic characteristics are 
 found again In the mythological seer, artist and sorcerer. 
 Hephaestus, WIeland the smith, and ManI, the founder 
 of Manlcheism, whose followers were also famous, have 
 crippled feet. The ancient seer Melampus possessed a 
 suggestive name (Biackfoot),^ and It seems also to be 
 typical for seers to be blind. Dwarfed stature, ugliness 
 and deformity have become especially typical for those 
 mysterious chthonian gods, the sons of Hephaestus, the 
 Cablrl,® to whom great power to perform miracles was 
 ascribed. The name signifies " powerful," and the Samo- 
 thraclan cult Is most Intimately united with that of the ithy- 
 phalllc Hermes, who, according to the account of Herodo- 
 tus, was brought to Attica by the Pelasgians. They are 
 also called fxsya\ot Osoi, the great gods. Their near 
 relations are the " Idaean dactyll " (finger or Idaean 
 
ASPECTS OF THE LIBIDO 133 
 
 thumb) ,^° to whom the mother of the gods had taught the 
 blacksmith's art. ("The key will scent the true place 
 from all others ! follow it down ! — 't will lead thee to the 
 Mothers ! ") They were the first leaders, the teachers of 
 Orpheus, and invented the Ephesian magic formulas and 
 the musical rhythms." The characteristic disparity 
 which is shown above in the Upanishad text, and in 
 " Faust," is also found here, since the gigantic Hercules 
 passed as an Idaean dactyl. 
 
 The colossal Phrygians, the skilled servants of Rhea,^^ 
 were also Dactyli. The Babylonian teacher of wisdom, 
 Oannes," was represented in a phallic fish form." The 
 two sun heroes, the Dioscuri, stand in relation to the 
 Cabiri;^^ they also wear the remarkable pointed head- 
 covering (Pileus) which is peculiar to these mysterious 
 gods,^^ and which is perpetuated from that time on as a 
 secret mark of identification. Attis (the elder brother of 
 Christ) wears the pointed cap, just as does Mithra. It 
 has also become traditional for our present-day chthonian 
 infantile gods,^^ the brownies (Penates), and all the 
 typical kind of dwarfs. Freud ^^ has already called our at- 
 tention to the phallic meaning of the hat in modern phan- 
 tasies. A further significance is that probably the pointed 
 cap represents the foreskin. In order not to go too far 
 afield from my theme, I must be satisfied here merely 
 to present the suggestion. But at a later opportunity I 
 shall return to this point with detailed proof. 
 
 The dwarf form leads to the figure of the divine boy, 
 the puer etcrnus, the young Dionysus, Jupiter Anxurus, 
 Tages,^® and so on. In the vase painting of Thebes, 
 
134 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 already mentioned, a bearded Dionysus is represented 
 as KABEIPO^, together with a figure of a boy as Ilai?, 
 followed by a caricatured boy's figure designated as 
 nPAT0AA02 and then again a caricatured man, which 
 is represented as MITO^."" Miro? really means thread, 
 but in Orphic speech it stands for semen. It was con- 
 jectured that this collection corresponded to a group of 
 statuary in the sanctuary of a cult. This supposition is 
 supported by the history of the cult as far as it is known; 
 it is an original Phenician cult of father and son;" of 
 an old and young Cabir who were more or less assimi- 
 lated with the Grecian gods. The double figures of the 
 adult and the child Dionysus lend themselves particularly 
 to this assimilation. One might also call this the cult 
 of the large and small man. Now, under various aspects, 
 Dionysus is a phallic god in whose worship the phallus 
 held an important place; for example, in the cult of the 
 Argivian Bull — Dionysus. Moreover, the phallic herme 
 of the god has given occasion for a personification of the 
 phallus of Dionysus, in the form of the god Phales, 
 who is nothing else but a Priapus. He is called iraipo? 
 or ffvyHoofxoi Bauxov* .^^ Corresponding to this state 
 of affairs, one cannot very well fail to recognize in the pre- 
 viously mentioned Cabiric representation, and in the 
 added boy's figure, the picture of man and his penis. -^ The 
 previously mentioned paradox in fhe Upanishad text 
 of large and small, of giant and dwarf, is expressed more 
 mildly here by man and boy, or father and son.^* The 
 motive of deformity which is used constantly by the 
 
 * Comrade — fellow-reveller. 
 
I 
 
 ASPECTS OF THE LIBIDO 135 
 
 Cablric cult is present also In the vase picture, while the 
 parallel figures to Dionysus and IlaU are the carica- 
 tured Miro<; and UpaToXao?. Just as formerly the dif- 
 ference in size gave occasion for division, so does the 
 deformity here.-^ 
 
 Without first bringing further proof to bear, I may 
 remark that from this knowledge especially strong side- 
 lights are thrown upon the original psychologic meaning 
 of the religious heroes. Dionysus stands In an intimate 
 relation with the psychology of the early Asiatic God 
 who died and rose again from the dead and whose mani- 
 fold manifestations have been brought together In the 
 figure of Christ Into a firm personality enduring for cen- 
 turies. We gain from our premise the knowledge that 
 these heroes, as well as their typical fates, are personi- 
 fications of the human libido and its typical fates. They 
 are imagery, like the figures of our nightly dreams — the 
 actors and interpreters of our secret thoughts. And since 
 we, in the present day, have the power to decipher the 
 symbolism of dreams and thereby surmise the myste- 
 rious psychologic history of development of the indi- 
 vidual, so a way Is here opened to the understanding of 
 the secret springs of Impulse beneath the psychologic 
 development of races. Our previous trains of thought, 
 which demonstrate the phallic side of the symbolism of 
 the libido, also show how thoroughly justified Is the term 
 " libido." '^ Originally taken from the sexual sphere, 
 this word has become the most frequent technical expres- 
 sion of psychoanalysis, for the simple reason that Its 
 significance is wide enough to cover all the unknown and 
 
136 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 countless manifestations of the Will in the sense of Scho- 
 penhauer. It is sufficiently comprehensive and rich in 
 meaning to characterize the real nature of the psychical 
 entity which it includes. The exact classical significance 
 of the word libido qualifies it as an entirely appro- 
 priate term. Libido is taken in a very wide sense in 
 Cicero : ^^ 
 
 "(Volunt ex duobus opinatis) bonis (nasci) Libidinem et 
 Lffititiam; ut sit laetitia prassentium bonorum: libido futurorum. 
 — Laetitia autem et Libido in bonorum opinione versantur, cum 
 Libido ad id, quod videtur bonum, illecta et inflammata rapiatur. 
 — Natura enim omnes ea, quae bona videntur, sequuntur, fugi- 
 untque contraria. Quamobrem simul objecta species cuiuspiam 
 est, quod bonum videatur, ad id adipiscendum impellit ipsa natura. 
 Id cum constanter prudenterque fit, ejusmodi appetitionem stoici 
 /SovXr]0iv appellant, nos appellamus voluntatem; eam illi putant 
 in solo esse sapiente, quam sic definiunt; voluntas est quae quid 
 cum ratione desiderat: quae autem ratione adversa incitata est 
 vehementius, ea libido est, vel cupiditas effrenata, quae in omnibus 
 stultis invenitur." * 
 
 The meaning of libido here is " to wish," and in the 
 
 stoical distinction of will, dissolute desire. Cicero ^® used 
 
 " libido " in a corresponding sense : 
 
 * From the good proceed desire and joy — joy having reference to some 
 present good, and desire to some future one — but joy and desire depend 
 upon the opinion of good; as desire being inflamed and provoked is carried 
 on eagerly toward what has the appearance of good, and joy is trans- 
 ported and exults on obtaining what was desired: for we naturally pursue 
 those things that have the appearance of good, and avoid the con- 
 trary — wherefore as soon as anything that has the appearance of good 
 presents itself, nature incites us to endeavor to obtain it. Now where this 
 strong desire is consistent and founded on prudence, it is by the stoics 
 called Bulesis and the name which we give it is volition, and this they 
 allow to none but their wise men, and define it thus; volition is a reason- 
 able desire; but whatever is incited too violently in opposition to reason, 
 that is a lust or an unbridled desire which is discoverable in all fools. 
 — The Tusculan Disputation, Cicero, page 403. 
 
 I 
 
ASPECTS OF THE LIBIDO 137 
 
 " Agere rem aliquam libidine, non ratione." * 
 
 In the same sense Sallust says: 
 
 " Iracundia pars est libidinis." 
 
 In another place in a milder and more general scn;c, 
 which completely approaches the analytical use : 
 
 " Magisque in decoris armis et militaribus equis, quam i:; 
 scortis et conviviis libidinem habebant." * 
 
 Also: 
 
 " Quod si tibi bona libido fuerit patriae, etc." 
 
 The use of libido is so general that the phrase " libido 
 est scire " merely had the significance of " I will, it pleases 
 me." In the phrase " aliquam libido urinae lacessit " 
 libido had the meaning of urgency. The significance of 
 sexual desire is also present in the classics. 
 
 This general classical application of the conception 
 agrees with the corresponding etymological context of 
 the word, libido or lubido (with Ubet, more ancient 
 lubet) , it pleases me, and libens or lubens = gladly, will- 
 ingly. Sanskrit, lubhyati =■ to experience violent longing, 
 lobhayati = excites longing, hibdha-h = eager, I6bha-h = 
 longing, eagerness. Gothic = liufs, and Old High Ger- 
 man Hob = love. Moreover, in Gothic, liibains was rep- 
 resented as hope; and Old High German, lob on == to 
 praise, lob = commendation, praise, glory; Old Bulga- 
 rian, Ijubiti = to love, Ijuby = love ; Lithuanian, lidup- 
 
 * Libido is used for arms and military horses rather than for dissipations 
 and banauets. 
 
138 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 sinti = to praise. ^^ It can be said that the conception 
 of libido as developed in the new work of Freud and of 
 his school has functionally the same significance in the 
 biological territory as has the conception of energy since 
 the time of Robert Mayer in the physical realm."" It 
 may not be superfluous to say something more at this 
 point concerning the conception of libido after we have 
 followed the formation of its symbol to its highest ex- 
 pression in the human form of the religious hero. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE CONCEPTION AND THE GENETIC 
 THEORY OF LIBIDO 
 
 The chief source of the history of the analytic con- 
 ception of hbido is Freud's " Three Contributions to the 
 Sexual Theory." There the term libido is conceived by 
 him in the original narrow sense of sexual impulse, sexual 
 need. Experience forces us to the assumption of a 
 capacity for displacement of the libido, because functions 
 or localizations of non-sexual force are undoubtedly 
 capable of taking up a certain amount of libidinous sexual 
 impetus, a libidinous afflux.^ Functions or objects could, 
 therefore, obtain sexual value, which under normal cir- 
 cumstances really have nothing to do with sexuality.^ 
 From this fact results the Freudian comparison of the 
 libido with a stream, which is divisible, which can be 
 dammed up, which overflows into branches, and so on.^ 
 Freud's original conception does not interpret " every- 
 thing sexual," although this has been asserted by critics, 
 but recognizes the existence of certain forces, the nature 
 of which are not well known; to which Freud, however, 
 compelled by the notorious facts which are evident to 
 any layman, grants the capacity to receive " affluxes of 
 libido." The hypothetical idea at the basis is the symbol 
 of the " Triebbiindel " * (bundle of impulses), wherein 
 the sexual impulse figures as a partial impulse of the whole 
 
 139 
 
I40 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 system, and its encroachment into the other realms of 
 impulse is a fact of experience. The theory of Freud, 
 branching off from this interpretation, according to which 
 the motor forces of a neurotic system correspond pre- 
 cisely to their libidinous additions to other (non-sexual) 
 functional impulses, has been sufficiently proven as cor- 
 rect, it seems to me, by the work of Freud and his school,^ 
 Since the appearance of the " Three Contributions," in 
 1905, a change has taken place * in the libido conception; 
 its field of application has been widened. An extremely 
 clear example of this amplification is this present work. 
 However, I must state that Freud, as well as myself, 
 saw the need of widening the conception of libido. It 
 was paranoia, so closely related to dementia praecox, 
 which seemed to compel Freud to enlarge the earlier 
 limits of the conception. The passage in question, which 
 I will quote here, word for word, reads: "^ 
 
 " A third consideration which presents itself, in regard to the 
 views developed here, starts the query as to whether we should 
 accept as sufficiently effectual the universal receding of the libido 
 from the outer world, in order to interpret from that, the end of 
 the world: or whether in this case, the firmly rooted possession 
 of the ' I ' must not suffice to uphold the rapport with the outer 
 world. Then one must either let that which we call possession 
 of the libido (interest from erotic sources) coincide with interest 
 in general, or else take into consideration the possibility that great 
 disturbance in the disposition of the libido can also induce a corre- 
 sponding disturbance in the possession of the ' I.' Now, these are 
 the problems, which we are still absolutely helpless and unfitted 
 to answer. Things would be different could we proceed from a 
 safe fund of knowledge of instinct. But the truth is, we have 
 nothing of that kind at our disposal. We understand instinct 
 as the resultant of the reaction of the somatic and the psychic. 
 
CONCEPTION AND THEORY OF LIBIDO 141 
 
 We see in it the psychical representation of organic forces and 
 take the popular distinction between the * I ' impulse and the 
 sexual impulse, which appears to us to be in accord with the 
 biological double role of the individual being who aspires to his 
 own preservation as well as to the preservation of the species. 
 But anything beyond this is a structure, which we set up, and 
 also willingly let fall again in order to orient ourselves in the 
 confusion of the dark processes of the soul ; we expect particularly, 
 from the psychoanalytic investigations into diseased soul processes, 
 to have certain decisions forced upon us in regard to questions of 
 the theory of instinct. This expectation has not yet been fulfilled 
 on account of the still immature and limited investigations in these 
 fields. At present the possibility of the reaction of libido dis- 
 turbance upon the possession of the ' I ' can be shown as little 
 as the reverse; the secondary or induced disturbances of the 
 libido processes through abnormal changes in the ' I.' It is prob- 
 able that processes of this sort form the distinctive character of 
 the psychoses. The conclusions arising from this, in relation to 
 paranoia, are at present uncertain. One cannot assert that the 
 paranoiac has completely withdrawn his interest from the outer 
 world, nor withdrawn into the heights of repression, as one some- 
 times sees in certain other forms of hallucinatory psychoses. He 
 takes notice of the outer world, he takes account of its changes, he 
 is stirred to explanations by their influence, and therefore I con- 
 sider it highly probable that the changed relation to the world is 
 to be explained, wholly or in great part, by the deficiency of the 
 libido interest." 
 
 In this passage Freud plainly touches upon the ques- 
 tion whether the well-known longing for reality of the 
 paranoic dement (and the dementia praecox patients),* 
 to whom I have especially called attention In my book, 
 " The Psychology of Dementia Prascox," ® is to be traced 
 back to the withdrawal of the " libidinous affluxes " 
 alone, or whether this coincides with the so-called ob- 
 jective Interest In general. It Is hardly to be assumed 
 
142 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 that the normal " fonction du reel " (Janet) " is main- 
 tained only through affluxes of libido or erotic interest. 
 The fact is that in very many cases realit} disappears 
 entirely, so that not a trace of psychological adaptation 
 or orientation can be recognized. Reality is repressed 
 under these circumstances and replaced by the contents 
 of the complex. One must of necessity say that not only 
 the erotic interest but the interest in general has disap- 
 peared, that is to say, the whole adaptation to reality has 
 ceased. To this category belong the stuporose and cata- 
 tonic automatons. 
 
 I have previously made use of the expression " psychic 
 energy " in my " Psychology of Dementia Prsecox " be- 
 cause I was unable to establish the theory of this psy- 
 chosis upon the conception of the displacement of the 
 affluxes of libido. My experience, at that time chiefly 
 psychiatric, did not enable me to understand this theory. 
 However, the correctness of this theory in regard to 
 neuroses, strictly speaking the transference neuroses, was 
 proven to me later after increased experience in the field 
 of hysteria and compulsion neuroses. In the territory 
 of these neuroses it is mainly a question whether any 
 portion of the libido which is spared through the specific 
 repression becomes Introverted and regressive into 
 earlier paths of transference; for example, the path of 
 the parental transference." With that, however, the 
 former non-sexual psychologic adaptation to the environ- 
 ment remains preserved so far as it does not concern the 
 erotic and Its secondary positions (symptoms). The 
 reality which is lacking to the patients is just that portion 
 
CONCEPTION AND THEORY OF LIBIDO 143 
 
 of the libido to be found in the neurosis. In dementia 
 praecox, on the contrary, not merely that portion of libido 
 which is saved in the well-known specific sexual repression 
 is lacking for reality, but much more than one could write 
 down to the account of sexuality in a strict sense. The 
 function of reality is lacking to such a degree that even 
 the motive power must be encroached upon in the loss. 
 The sexual character of this must be disputed absolutely,^^ 
 for reality is not understood to be a sexual function. 
 Moreover, if that were so, the introversion of the libido 
 in the strict sense must have as a result a loss of reality 
 in the neuroses, and, indeed, a loss which could be com- 
 pared with that of dementia praecox. These facts have 
 rendered it impossible for me to transfer Freud's theory 
 of libido to dementia prascox, and, therefore, I am of 
 the opinion that Abraham's investigation ^^ is hardly ten- 
 able theoretically, from the standpoint of the Freudian 
 theory of libido. If Abraham believes that through the 
 withdrawal of the libido from the outer world the para- 
 noid system or the schizophrenic symptomatology results, 
 then this assumption is not justified from the standpoint 
 of the knowledge of that time, because a mere libido in- 
 troversion and regression leads, speedily, as Freud has 
 clearly shown, into the neuroses, and, strictly speaking, 
 into the transference neuroses, and not into dementia 
 praecox. Therefore, the transference of the libido theory 
 to dementia praecox is impossible, because this illness 
 produces a loss of reality which cannot be explained by 
 the deficiency of the libido defined in this narrow sense. 
 It affords me especial satisfaction that o\ir teacher also, 
 
144 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 when he laid his hand on the dehcate material of the para- 
 noic psychology, was forced to doubt the applicability of 
 the conception of libido held by him at that time. The 
 sexual definition of this did not permit me to understand 
 those disurbances of function, which affect the vague ter- 
 ritory of the hunger instinct just as much as that of the 
 sexual instinct. For a long time the theory of libido 
 seemed to me inapplicable to dementia prsecox. With 
 increasing experience in analytical work, however, I be- 
 came aware of a gradual change in my conception of 
 libido. In place of the descriptive definition of the 
 " Three Contributions " there gradually grew up a genetic 
 definition of the libido, which rendered it possible for me 
 to replace the expression " psychic energy " by the term 
 " libido." I was forced to ask myself whether indeed the 
 function of reality to-day does not consist only in its 
 smaller part of libido sexuahs and in the greater part of 
 other impulses? It is still a very important question 
 whether phylogenetically the function of reality is not, at 
 least in great part, of sexual origin. To answer this ques- 
 tion directly in regard to the function of reality is not 
 possible, but we shall attempt to come to an understand- 
 ing indirectly. 
 
 A fleeting glance at the history of evolution is sufficient 
 to teach us that countless complicated functions to which 
 to-day must be denied any sexual character were orig- 
 inally pure derivations from the general impulse of 
 propagation. During the ascent through the animal king- 
 dom an Important displacement in the fundamentals of 
 the procreative Instinct has taken place. The mass of 
 
CONCEPTION AND THEORY OF LIBIDO 145 
 
 the reproductive products with the uncertainty of fer- 
 tilization has more and more been replaced by a controlled 
 impregnation and an effective protection of the offspring. 
 In this way part of the energy required in the production 
 of eggs and sperma has been transposed into the creation 
 of mechanisms for allurement and for protection of the 
 young. Thus we discover the first instincts of art in ani- 
 mals used in the service of the impulse of creation, and 
 limited to the breeding season. The original sexual char- 
 acter of these biological institutions became lost in their 
 organic fixation and functional independence. Even if 
 there can be no doubt about the sexual origin of music, 
 still it would be a poor, unaesthetic generalization if one 
 were to include music in the category of sexuality. A 
 similar nomenclature would then lead us to classify the 
 cathedral of Cologne as mineralogy because it is built 
 of stones. It can be a surprise only to those to whom the 
 history of evolution is unknown to find how few things 
 there really are in human life which cannot be reduced in 
 the last analysis to the instinct of procreation. It includes 
 very nearly everything, I think, which is beloved and dear 
 to us. We spoke just now of libido as the creative im- 
 pulse and at the same time we allied ourselves with the 
 conception which opposes libido to hunger in the same way 
 that the instinct of the preservation of the species is 
 opposed to the instinct of self-preservation. In nature, 
 this artificial distinction does not exist. Here we see only 
 a continuous life impulse, a will to live which will attain 
 the creation of the whole species through the preservation 
 of the individual. Thus far this conception coincides with 
 
146 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 the idea of the Will in Schopenhauer, for we can conceive 
 Will objectively, only as a manifestation of an internal 
 desire. This throwing of psychological perceptions into 
 material reality is characterized philosophically as " in- 
 trojection." (Ferenczi's conception of " introjection " 
 denoted the reverse, that is, the taking of the outer world 
 into the inner world. )^* Naturally, the conception of the 
 world was distorted by introjection. Freud's conception 
 of the principle of desire is a voluntary formulation of the 
 idea of introjection, while his once more voluntarily con- 
 ceived " principle of reality " corresponds functionally to 
 that which I designate as " corrective of reality," and R. 
 Avenarius ^^ designates as " empiriokritische Prinzipial- 
 koordination." The conception of power owes its exist- 
 ence to this very introjection; this has already been said 
 expressively by Galileo in his remark that its origin is 
 to be sought in the subjective perception of the muscular 
 power of the individual. Because we have already arrived 
 at the daring assumption that the libido, which was em- 
 ployed originally in the exclusive service of egg and seed 
 production, now appears firmly organized in the function 
 of nest-building, and can no longer be employed other- 
 wise; similarly this conception forces us to relate it to 
 every desire, including hunger. For now we can no longer 
 make any essential distinction between the will to build a 
 nest and the will to eat. This view brings us to a con- 
 ception of libido, which extends over the boundaries of the 
 physical sciences into a philosophical aspect — to a con- 
 ception of the will in general. I must give this bit of 
 psychological " Voluntarismus " into the hands of the 
 
CONCEPTION AND THEORY OF LIBIDO 147 
 
 philosophers for them to manage. For the rest I refer 
 to the words of Schopenhauer ^® relating to this. In con- 
 nection with the psychology of this conception (by which 
 I understand neither metapsychology nor metaphysics) I 
 am reminded here of the cosmogenic meaning of Eros in 
 Plato and Hesiod/' and also of the orphic figure of 
 Phanes, the '' shining one," the first created, the " father 
 of Eros." Phanes has also orphically the significance of 
 Priapus; he is a god of love, bisexual and similar to the 
 Theban Dionysus Lysios.^^ The orphic meaning of 
 Phanes is similar to that of the Indian Kama, the god of 
 love, which is also the cosmogenic principle. To Plotinus, 
 of the Neo-Platonic school, the world-soul is the energy 
 of the intellect. ^^ Plotinus compares " The One," the crea- 
 tive primal principle, with light in general; the intellect 
 with the Sun ( 5 ) , the world-soul with the moon ( 9 ) . 
 In another comparison Plotinus compares " The One " 
 with the Father, the intellect with the Son.'" The " One " 
 designated as Uranus is transcendent. The son as Kronos 
 has dominion over the visible world. The world-soul 
 (designated as Zeus) appears as subordinate to him. The 
 " One," or the Usia of the whole existence is designated 
 by Plotinus as hypostatic, also as the three forms of ema- 
 nation, also Mia ovaia e'v tpifflv vTrofftaffeatv* As Drews 
 observed, this is also the formula of the Christian 
 Trinity (God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy 
 Ghost) as it was decided upon at the councils of Nicea 
 and Constantinople.'^ It may also be noticed that certain 
 early Christian sectarians attributed a maternal signifi- 
 
 * One substance in three forms. 
 
148 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 cance to the Holy Ghost (world-soul, moon) . (See what 
 follows concerning Chi of Timasus.) According to Plo- 
 tlnus, the world-soul has a tendency toward a divided 
 existence and towards divisibility, the conditio sine qua 
 non of all change, creation and procreation (also a ma- 
 ternal quality). It is an "unending all of life" and 
 wholly energy; it is a living organism of Ideas, which 
 attain in it effectiveness and reality.^^ The intellect Is 
 its procreator, its father, which, having conceived it, 
 brings it to development in thought.^^ 
 
 " What lies enclosed in the intellect, comes to development in 
 the world-soul as logos, fills it with meaning and makes it as if 
 intoxicated with nectar." 2* 
 
 Nectar is analogous to soma, the drink of fertility and 
 of life, also to sperma. The soul is fructified by the 
 intellect; as oversoul It is called heavenly Aphrodite, as 
 the undersoul the earthly Aphrodite. " It knows the birth 
 pangs," -^ and so on. The bird of Aphrodite, the dove, 
 is not without good cause the symbol of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 This fragment of the history of philosophy, which may 
 easily be enlarged, shows the significance of the endo- 
 psychlc perception of the libido and of Its symbolism in 
 human thought. 
 
 In the diversity of natural phenomena we see the de- 
 sire, the libido, In the most diverse applications and forms. 
 We see the libido in the stage of childhood almost wholly 
 occupied in the Instinct of nutrition, which takes care of 
 the upbuilding of the body. With the development of the 
 body there are successively opened new spheres of appli- 
 
I 
 
 CONCEPTION AND THEORY OF LIBIDO 149 
 
 cation for the libido. The last sphere of application, and 
 surpassing all the others in its functional significance, is 
 sexuality, which seems at first almost bound up with the 
 function of nutrition. (Compare with this the influence on 
 procreation of the conditions of nutrition in lower ani- 
 mals and plants.) In the territory of sexuality, the libido 
 wins that formation, the enormous importance of which 
 has justified us in the use of the term libido in general. 
 Here the libido appears very properly as an impulse of 
 procreation, and almost in the form of an undifferentiated 
 sexual primal libido, as an energy of growth, which 
 clearly forces the individual towards division, budding, 
 etc. (The clearest distinction between the two forms of 
 libido is to be found among those animals in whom the 
 stage of nutrition is separated from the sexual stage by 
 a chrysalis stage.) 
 ' From that sexual primal libido which produced millions 
 of eggs and seeds from one small creature derivatives 
 have been developed with the great limitation of the 
 fecundity; derivatives in which the functions are main- 
 tained by a special differentiated libido. This differen- 
 tiated libido is henceforth desexualized because it is dis- 
 sociated from its original function of egg and sperma 
 production; nor is there any possibility of restoring it to 
 Its original function. Thus, in general, the process of 
 development consists in an increasing transformation of 
 the primal libido which only produced products of 
 generation to the secondary functions of allurement and 
 protection of the young. This now presupposes a very 
 different and very complicated relation to reality, a true 
 
I50 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 function of reality, which, functionally inseparable, is 
 bound up with the needs of procreation. Thus the altered 
 mode of procreation carries with it as a correlate a cor- 
 respondingly heightened adaptation to reality.^'' 
 
 In this way we attain an insight into certain primitive 
 conditions of the function of reality. It would be radically 
 wrong to say that its compelling power is a sexual one. 
 It was a sexual one to a large extent. The process of 
 transformation of the primal libido into secondary im- 
 pulses always took place in the form of affluxes of sexual 
 libido, that is to say, sexuality became deflected from its 
 original destination and a portion of it turned, little by 
 little, increasing in amount, into the phylogenetic impulse 
 of the mechanisms of allurement and of protection of the 
 young. This diversion of the sexual libido from the 
 sexual territory into associated functions is still taking 
 place." Where this operation succeeds without injury to 
 the adaptation of the individual it is called sublimation. 
 Where the attempt does not succeed it is called repression. 
 
 The descriptive standpoint of psychology accepts the 
 multiplicity of instincts, among which is the sexual instinct, 
 as a special phenomenon; moreover, it recognizes certain 
 affluxes of libido to non-sexual instincts. 
 
 Quite otherwise is the genetic standpoint. It regards 
 the multiplicity of instincts as issuing from a relative 
 unity, the primal libido ; ^^ it recognizes that definite 
 amounts of the primal libido are split off, as it were, asso- 
 ciated with the newly formed functions and finally merged 
 in them. As a result of this it is impossible, from the 
 genetic standpoint, to hold to the strictly limited concep- 
 
CONCEPTION AND THEORY OF LIBIDO 151 
 
 tion of libido of the descriptive standpoint; it leads in- 
 evitably to a broadening of the conception. With this we 
 come to the theory of libido that I have surreptitiously 
 introduced into the first part of this work for the pur- 
 pose of making this genetic conception familiar to the 
 reader. The explanation of this harmless deceit I have 
 saved until the second part. 
 
 For the first time, through this genetic idea of libido, 
 which in every way surpasses the descriptive sexual, the 
 transference was made possible of the Freudian libido 
 theory into the psychology of mental disease. The pas- 
 sage quoted above shows how the present Freudian con- 
 ception of libido collides with the problem of the 
 psychoses.-^ Therefore, when I speak of libido, I asso- 
 ciate with it the genetic conception which contains not 
 only the immediate sexual but also an amount of desexual- 
 ized primal libido. When I say a sick person takes his 
 libido away from the outer world, in order to take pos- 
 session of the inner world with it, I do not mean that 
 he takes away merely the affluxes from the function of 
 reality, but he takes energy away, according to my view, 
 from those desexualized instincts which regularly and 
 properly support the function of reality. 
 
 With this alteration in the libido conception, certain 
 parts of our terminology need revision as well. As we 
 know, Abraham has undertaken the experiment of trans- 
 ferring the Freudian libido theory to dementia praecox 
 and has conceived the characteristic lack of rapport and 
 the cessation of the function of reality as autoerotism. 
 This conception needs revision. Hysterical introversion 
 
152 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 of the libido leads to autoerotism, since the patient's erotic 
 afflux of libido designed for the function of adaptation 
 is introverted, whereby his ego is occupied by the corre- 
 sponding amount of erotic libido. The schizophrenic, 
 however, shuns reality far more than merely the erotic 
 afflux would account for; therefore, his inner condition is 
 very different from that of the hysteric. He is more than 
 autoerotic, he builds up an intra-psychic equivalent for 
 reality, for which purpose he has necessarily to employ 
 other dynamics than that afforded by the erotic afflux. 
 Therefore, I must grant to Bleuler the right to reject the 
 conception of autoerotism, taken from the study of hys- 
 terical neuroses, and there legitimate, and to replace it 
 by the conception of autismus.^" I am forced to say that 
 this term is better fitted to facts than autoerotism. With 
 this I acknowledge my earlier idea of the identity of 
 autismus (Bleuler) and autoerotism (Freud) as unjusti- 
 fied, and, therefore, retract it.'^^ This thorough revision 
 of the conception of libido has compelled me to this. 
 
 From these considerations it follows necessarily that 
 the descriptive psychologic conception of libido must be ! 
 given up in order for the libido theory to be applied to 
 dementia praecox. That it is there applicable is best 
 shown in Freud's brilliant investigation of Schreber's 
 phantasies. The question now is whether this genetic 
 conception of libido proposed by me is suitable for the 
 neuroses. I believe that this question may be answered 
 affirmatively. " Natura non fecit saltum " — it is not merely 
 to be expected but it is also probable that at least tem- 
 porary functional disturbances of various degrees appear 
 
CONCEPTION AND THEORY OF LIBIDO 153 
 
 in the neuroses, which transcend the boundaries of the 
 immediate sexual; in any case, this occurs in psychotic 
 episodes. I consider the broadening of the conception of 
 hbido which has developed through the most recent an- 
 alytic work as a real advance which will prove of especial 
 advantage in the important field of the introversion psy- 
 choses. Proofs of the correctness of my assumption are 
 already at hand. It has become apparent through a series 
 of researches of the Zurich School, which are now pub- 
 lished in part,^^ that the phantastic substitution products 
 which take the place of the disturbed function of reahty 
 bear unmistakable traces of archaic thought. This con- 
 firmation is parallel to the postulate asserted above, ac- 
 cording to which reality is deprived, not merely of an 
 immediate (individual) amount of libido, but also of an 
 already differentiated or desexualized quantity of libido, 
 which, among normal people, has belonged to the function 
 of reality ever since prehistoric times. A dropping away 
 of the last acquisition of the function of reality (or adapta- 
 tion) must of necessity be replaced by an earlier mode of 
 adaptation. We find this principle already in the doc- 
 trines of the neuroses, that is, that a repression resulting 
 from the failure of the recent transference is replaced by 
 an old way of transference, namely, through a regressive 
 revival of the parent imago. In the transference neurosis 
 (hysterical), where merely a part of the immediate 
 sexual libido is taken away from reality by the specific 
 sexual repression, the substituted product is a phantasy 
 of individual origin and significance, with only a trace 
 of those archaic traits found in the phantasies of those 
 
154 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 mental disorders In which a portion of the general human 
 function of reality organized since antiquity has broken 
 off. This portion can be replaced only by a generally 
 valid archaic surrogate. We owe a simple and clear ex- 
 ample of this proposition to the investigation of Honeg- 
 ger."^ A paranoic of good intelligence who has a clear 
 idea of the spherical form of the earth and its rotation 
 around the sun replaces the modern astronomical views 
 by a system worked out in great detail, which one must 
 call archaic, in which the earth is a flat disc over which 
 the sun travels.^* (I am reminded of the sun-phallus 
 mentioned in the first part of this book, for which we are 
 also indebted to Honegger. ) Spielrein has likewise fur- 
 nished some very interesting examples of archaic defini- 
 tions which begin in certain illnesses to overlay the real 
 meanings of the modern word. For example, Spielrein's 
 patient had correctly discovered the mythological signifi- 
 cance of alcohol, the intoxicating drink, to be " an effusion 
 of seed." ^^ She also had a symbolism of boiling which I 
 must place parallel to the especially important alchemistic 
 vision of Zosimos,^^ who found people in boiling water 
 within the cavity of the altar." This patient used earth 
 in place of mother, and also water to express mother.^® I 
 refrain from further examples because future work of the 
 Zurich School will furnish abundant evidence of this sort. 
 
 My foregoing proposition of the replacement of the 
 disturbed function of reality by an archaic surrogate is 
 supported by an excellent paradox of Spielrein's. She 
 says: " I often had the illusion that these patients might 
 
CONCEPTION AND THEORY OF LIBIDO 155 
 
 be simply victims of a folk superstition." As a matter of 
 fact, patients substitute phantasies for reality, phantasies 
 similar to the actually incorrect mental products of the 
 past, which, however, were once the view of reality. As 
 the Zosimos vision shows, the old superstitions were sym- 
 bols ^^ which permitted transitions to the most remote 
 territory. This must have been very expedient for cer- 
 tain archaic periods, for by this means convenient bridges 
 were offered to lead a partial amount of libido over into 
 the mental realm. Evidently Spielrein thinks of a similar 
 biological meaning of the symbols when she says : *° 
 
 " Thus a symbol seems to me to owe its origin in general to 
 the tendency of a complex for dissolution in the common totality 
 of thought. . . . The complex is robbed by that of the personal 
 element. . . . This tendency towards dissolution (transforma- 
 tion) of every individual complex is the motive for poetry, paint- 
 ing, for every sort of art." 
 
 When here we replace the formal conception " com- 
 plex " by the conception of the quantity of libido (the 
 total effect of the complex) , which, from the standpoint of 
 the libido theory, is a justified measure, then does Spiel- 
 rein's view easily agree with mine. When primitive man 
 understands in general what an act of generation is, then, 
 according to the principle of the path of least resistance, 
 he never can arrive at the idea of replacing the generative 
 organs by a sword-blade or a shuttle ; but this is the case 
 with certain Indians, who explain the origin of mankind 
 by the union of the two transference symbols. He then 
 must be compelled to devise an analogous thing in order to 
 bring a manifest sexual interest upon an asexual expres- 
 
156 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 sion. The propelling motive of this transition of the 
 immediate sexual libido to the non-sexual representation 
 can, in my opinion, be found only in a resistance which 
 opposes primitive sexuality. 
 
 It appears as if, by this means of phantastic analogy 
 formation, more libido would gradually become desexual- 
 ized, because increasingly more phantasy correlates were 
 put in the place of the primitive achievement of the sexual 
 libido. With this an enormous broadening of the world 
 idea was gradually developed because new objects were 
 always assimilated as sexual symbols. It is a question 
 whether the human consciousness has not been brought 
 to its present state entirely or in great part in this man- 
 ner. It is evident, in any case, that an important signifi- 
 cance in the development of the human mind is due to 
 the impulse towards the discovery of analogy. We must 
 agree thoroughly with Steinthal when he says that an 
 absolutely overweening importance must be granted to 
 the little phrase " Gleich wie " (even as) in the history 
 of the development of thought. It is easy to believe that 
 the carryover of the libido to a phantastic correlate has 
 led primitive man to a number of the most important 
 discoveries. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO. 
 
 A POSSIBLE SOURCE OF PRIMITIVE HUMAN 
 
 DISCOVERIES 
 
 In the following pages I will endeavor to picture a 
 concrete example of the transition of the libido. I once 
 treated a patient who suffered from a depressive cata- 
 tonic condition. The case was one of only a slight intro- 
 version psychosis; therefore, the existence of many 
 hysterical features was not surprising. In the beginning 
 of the analytic treatment, while telling of a very painful 
 occurrence she fell into a hysterical-dreamy state, in which 
 she showed all signs of sexual excitement. For obvious 
 reasons she lost the knowledge of my presence during this 
 condition. The excitement led to a masturbative act 
 (frictio femorum). This act was accompanied by a 
 peculiar gesture. She made a very violent rotary motion 
 with the forefinger of the left hand on the left temple, 
 as if she were boring a hole there. Afterwards there was 
 complete amnesia for what had happened, and there was 
 nothing to be learned about the queer gesture with her 
 hand. Although this act can easily be likened to a boring 
 into the mouth, nose or ear, now transferred to the 
 temple, it belongs in the territory of infantile ludus sexu- 
 alis ^ — to the preliminary exercise preparatory to sexual 
 activity. Without really understanding it, this gesture, 
 
 157 
 
 I 
 
158 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 nevertheless, seemed very important to me. Many weeks 
 later I had an opportunity to speak to the patient's 
 mother, and from her I learned that her daughter had 
 been a very exceptional child. When only two years old 
 she would sit with her back to an open cupboard door for 
 hours and rhythmically beat her head against the door ^ — 
 to the distraction of the household. A little later, instead 
 of playing as other children, she began to bore a hole with 
 her finger in the plaster of the wall of the house. She 
 did this with little turning and scraping movements, and 
 kept herself busy at this occupation for hours. She was 
 a complete puzzle to her parents. From her fourth year 
 she practised onanism. It is evident that in this early 
 infantile activity the preliminary stage of the later trouble 
 may be found. The especially remarkable features in this 
 case are, first, that the child did not carry out the action 
 on its own body, and, secondly, the assiduity with which 
 it carried on the action.^ One is tempted to bring these 
 two facts into a causal relationship and to say, because the 
 child does not accomplish this action on her own body, 
 perhaps that is the reason of the assiduity, for by boring 
 into the wall she never arrives at the same satisfaction as 
 if she executed the activity onanistically on her own body. 
 The very evident onanistic boring of the patient can be 
 traced back to a very early stage of childhood, which is 
 prior to the period of local onanism. That time is still 
 psychologically very obscure, because individual reproduc- 
 tions and memories are lacking to a great extent, the same 
 as among animals. The race characteristics (manner of 
 life) predominate during the entire life of the animal, 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 159 
 
 whereas among men the individual character asserts itself 
 over the race type. Granting the correctness of this 
 remark, we are struck with the apparently wholly incom- 
 prehensible individual activity of this child at this early 
 age. We learn from her later life history that her de- 
 velopment, which is, as is always the case, intimately inter- 
 woven with parallel external events, has led to that mental 
 disturbance which is especially well known on account of 
 its individuality and the originality of its productions, i. e. 
 dementia prEECOx. The peculiarity of this disturbance, as 
 we have pointed out above, depends upon the predomi- 
 nance of the phantastic form of thought — of the infantile 
 in general. From this type of thinking proceed all those 
 numerous contacts with mythological products, and that 
 which we consider as original and wholly individual crea- 
 tions are very often creations which are comparable with 
 nothing but those of antiquity. I believe that this com- 
 parison can be applied to all formations of this remark- 
 able illness, and perhaps also to this special symptom of 
 boring. We have already seen that the onanistic boring 
 of the patient dated from a very early stage of childhood, 
 that is to say, it was reproduced from that period of the 
 past. The sick woman fell back for the first time into 
 the early onanism only after she had been married many 
 years, and following the death of her child, with whom 
 she had Identified herself through an overindulgent love. 
 When the child died the still healthy mother was over- 
 come by early infantile symptoms in the form of scarcely 
 concealed fits of masturbation, which were associated with 
 this very act of boring. As already observed, the primary 
 
i6o PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 boring appeared at a time which preceded the infantile 
 onanism localized in the genitals. This fact is of signifi- 
 cance in so far as this boring differs thereby from a similar 
 later practice which appeared after the genital onanism. 
 The later bad habits represent, as a rule, a substitution 
 for repressed genital masturbation, or for an attempt in 
 this direction. As such these habits (finger-sucking, biting 
 the nails, picking at things, boring into the ears and nose, 
 etc.) may persist far into adult life as regular symptoms 
 of a repressed amount of libido. 
 
 As has already been shown above, the libido in youth- 
 ful individuals at first manifests itself in the nutritional 
 zone, when food is taken in the act of suckling with 
 rhythmic movements and with every sign of satisfaction. 
 With the growth of the individual and the development 
 of his organs the libido creates for itself new avenues to 
 supply its need of activity and satisfaction. The primary 
 model of rhythmic activity, producing pleasure and satis- 
 faction, must now be transferred to the zone of other 
 functions, with sexuality as its final goal. A considerable 
 part of the " hunger libido " is transferred into the 
 " sexual libido." This transition does not take place sud- 
 denly at the time of puberty, as is generally supposed, but 
 very gradually in the course of the greater part of child- 
 hood. The libido can free itself only with difficulty and 
 very slowly from that which is peculiar to the function of 
 nutrition, in order to enter into the peculiarity of the 
 sexual function. Two periods are to be distinguished in 
 this state of transition, so far as I can judge — the epoch of 
 suckling and the epoch of the displaced rhythmic activity. 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO i6i 
 
 Suckling still belongs to the function of nutrition, but 
 passes beyond it, however, in that it is no longer the func- 
 tion of nutrition, but rhythmic activity, with pleasure and 
 satisfaction as a goal, without the taking of nourishment. 
 Here the hand enters as an auxiliary organ. In the 
 period of the displaced rhythmic activity the hand appears 
 still more clearly as an auxiliary organ; the gaining of 
 pleasure leaves the mouth zone and turns to other regions. 
 The possibilities are now many. As a rule, other openings 
 of the body become the objects of the libido interest; 
 then the skin, and special portions of that. The activity 
 expressed in these parts, which can appear as rubbing, 
 boring, picking, and so on, follows a certain rhythm and 
 serves to produce pleasure. After longer or shorter tarry- 
 ings of the libido at these stations, it passes onward until 
 it reaches the sexual zone, and there, for the first time, 
 can be occasion for the beginning of onanistic attempts. 
 In its migration the libido takes more than a little of the 
 function of nutrition with it into the sexual zone, which 
 readily accounts for the numerous and innate correla- 
 tions between the functions of nutrition and sexuality. If, 
 after the occupation of the sexual zone, an obstacle arises 
 against the present form of application of the libido, then 
 there occurs, according to the well-known laws, a regres- 
 sion to the nearest station lying behind, to the two above- 
 mentioned periods. It is now of special importance that 
 the epoch of the displaced rhythmic activity coincides in 
 a general way with the time of the development of the 
 mind and of speech. I might designate the period from 
 birth until the occupation of the sexual zone as the pre- 
 
i62 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 sexual stage of development. This generally occurs be- 
 tween the third and fifth year, and is comparable to the 
 chrysalis stage in butterflies. It is distinguished by the 
 irregular commingling of the elements of nutrition and of 
 sexual functions. Certain regressions follow directly back 
 to the presexual stage, and, judging from my experience, 
 this seems to be the rule in the regression of dementia 
 praecox. I will give two brief examples. One case con- 
 cerns a young girl who developed a catatonic state during 
 her engagement. When she saw me for the first time, she 
 came up suddenly, embraced me, and said, " Papa, give 
 me something to eat." The other case concerns a young 
 maidservant who complained that people pursued her 
 with electricity and that this caused a queer feeling in her 
 genitals, " as if it ate and drank down there." 
 
 These regressive phenomena show that even from the 
 distance of the modern mind those early stages of the 
 libido can be regressively reached. One may assume, 
 therefore, that in the earliest states of human develop- 
 ment this road was much more easily travelled than it is 
 to-day. It becomes then a matter of great interest to 
 learn whether traces of this have been preserved in 
 history. 
 
 We owe our knowledge of the ethnologic phantasy of 
 boring to the valuable work of Abraham,* who also refers 
 us to the writings of Adalbert Kuhn.^ Through this in- 
 vestigation we learn that Prometheus, the fire-bringer, 
 may be a brother of the Hindoo Pramantha, that is to 
 say, of the masculine fire-rubbing piece of wood. The 
 Hindoo fire-bringer is called Matarigvan, and the activity 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 163 
 
 of the fire preparation is always designated in the hieratic 
 text by the verb " manthami," ** which means shaking, 
 rubbing, bringing forth by rubbing. Kuhn has put this 
 verb in connection with the Greek j-iavBayoo^ which means 
 " to learn," and has explained this conceptual relation- 
 ship.^ The " tertium comparationis " might lie in the 
 rhythm, the movement to and fro in the mind. According 
 to Kuhn, the root " manth " or "math" must be traced 
 from fxa^'davoo [pidOrjpia, /.laOfjffi?) to 7rpo-j^?]6io/^ai to 
 IlpoiujjOev;* who is the Greek fire-robber. Through 
 an unauthorized Sanskrit word " pramathyus," which 
 comes by way of " pramantha," and which possesses 
 the double meaning of " Rubber " and " Robber," 
 the transition to Prometheus was effected. With that, 
 however, the prefix " pra " caused special difficulty, 
 so that the whole derivation was doubted by a series 
 of authors, and was held, in part, as erroneous. On 
 the other hand, it was pointed out that as the Thuric Zeus 
 bore the especially interesting cognomen Ilpo-fxayOsv?, 
 thus npo-/.i7]6€v? might not be an original Indo-Germanic 
 stem word that was related to the Sanskrit " pramantha," 
 but might represent only a cognomen. This interpreta- 
 tion is supported by a gloss of Hesychius, 'Ida?: 6 tcdv 
 Tiravoav Krjpv^ npojxrf6sv?.\ Another gloss of Hesychius 
 explains iOaivonai {iaivcoi) as Ospfzaivo^ai, through which 
 'I6d; attains the meaning of " the flaming one," analogous 
 to Ai'Ocov or ^Xsyva? .^ The relation of Prometheus to 
 
 *I learn (that which is learned, knowledge; the act of learning), to 
 take thought beforehand, to Prometheus (forethought). 
 t Prometheus, the herald of the Titans. 
 
i64 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 pramantha could scarcely be so direct as Kuhn conjec- 
 tures. The question of an Indirect relation is not decided 
 with that. Above all, npofxtjOevi is of great significance 
 as a surname for '/<?a?, since the " flaming one " is the 
 " fore-thinker." (Pramati = precaution is also an attri- 
 bute of Agni, although pramati Is of another derivation.) 
 Prometheus, however, belongs to the line of Phlegians 
 which was placed by Kuhn in uncontested relationship to 
 the Indian priest family of Bhrgu.^ The Bhrgu are like 
 Matarigvan (the "one swelling in the mother"), also 
 fire-brlngers. Kuhn quotes a passage, according to which 
 Bhrgu also arises from the flame like Agni. (" In the 
 flame Bhrgu originated. Bhrgu roasted, but did not 
 burn.") This view leads to a root related to Bhrgu, 
 that is to say, to the Sanskrit bhrdy = to light, Latin 
 fiilgeo and Greek qjXiyoo (Sanskrit bhargas = splendor, 
 Latin fulgur). Bhrgu appears, therefore, as "the shin- 
 ing one." ^Xsyva^ means a certain species of eagle, on 
 account of its burnished gold color. The connection 
 with qj\sy£Lv, which signifies " to burn," is clear. The 
 Phlegians are also the fire eagles." Prometheus also be- 
 longs to the Phlegians. The path from Pramantha to 
 Prometheus passes not through the word, but through the 
 idea, and, therefore, we should adopt this same meaning 
 for Prometheus as that which Pramantha attains from the 
 Hindoo fire symbolism." 
 
 The Pramantha, as the tool of Manthana (the fire 
 sacrifice), is considered purely sexual in the Hindoo; the 
 Pramantha as phallus, or man; the bored wood under- 
 neath as vulva, or woman. '^ The resulting fire is the 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 165 
 
 child, the divine son Agni. The two pieces of wood are 
 called in the cult Pururavas and Urvagi, and were thought 
 of personified as man and woman. The fire was born 
 from the genitals of the woman." An especially inter- 
 esting representation of fire production, as a religious 
 ceremony (manthana) , is given by Weber: " 
 
 " A certain sacrificial fire was lit by the rubbing together of 
 two sticks ; one piece of wood is taken up with the words : ' Thou 
 art the birthplace of the fire,' and two blades of grass are placed 
 upon it; 'Ye are the two testicles,' to the ' adhararani ' (the 
 underlying wood) : ' Thou art Urvagi '; then the utararani (that 
 which is placed on top) is anointed with butter. ' Thou art 
 Power.' This is then placed on the adhararani, ' Thou art 
 Pururavas ' and both are rubbed three times, * I rub thee with 
 the Gayatrimetrum : I rub thee with the Trishtubhmetrum : I rub 
 thee with the Jagatimetrum.' " 
 
 The sexual symbolism of this fire production is unmis- 
 takable. We see here also the rhythm, the metre in its 
 original place as sexual rhythm, rising above the mating 
 call into music. A song of the Rigveda ^^ conveys the 
 same interpretation and symbolism : 
 
 " Here is the gear for function, here tinder made ready for the 
 
 spark. 
 Bring thou the matron : ^' we will rub Agni in ancient fashion 
 
 forth. 
 In the two fire-sticks Jatavedas lieth, even as the well-formed 
 
 germ in pregnant women ; 
 Agni who day by day must be exalted by men who watch and 
 
 worship with oblations; 
 Lay this with care on that which lies extended: straight hath 
 
 she borne the steer when made prolific. 
 
i66 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 With his red pillar — radiant in his splendor — in our skilled 
 task is born the son of Ila." " — Book III. xxix: 1-3. 
 
 Side by side with the unequivocal coitus symbolism we 
 see that the Pramantha is also Agni, the created son. 
 The Phallus is the son, or the son is the Phallus. There- 
 fore, Agni in the Vedic mythology has the threefold char- 
 acter. With this we are once more connected with the 
 above-mentioned Cabiric Father-Son-Cult. In the modern 
 German language we have preserved echoes of the primi- 
 tive symbols. A boy is designated as " bengel " (short, 
 thick piece of wood). In Hessian as "stift" or " bol- 
 zen " (arrow,^* wooden peg or stump). The Artemisia 
 Abrotanum, which is called in German " Stabwurz " 
 (stick root), is called in English "Boy's Love." (The 
 vulgar designation of the penis as " boy " was remarked 
 even by Grimm and others.) The ceremonial production 
 of fire was retained in Europe as late as the nineteenth 
 century as a superstitious custom. Kuhn mentions such a 
 case even in the year 1828, which occurred In Germany. 
 The solemn, magic ceremony was called the " Nodfyr " 
 — " The fire of need " ^^ — and the charm was chiefly used 
 against cattle epidemics. Kuhn cites from the chronicle 
 of Lanercost of the year 1268 an especially noteworthy 
 case of the " Nodfyr," "" the ceremonies of which plainly 
 reveal the fundamental phallic meaning: 
 
 " Pro fidei divins integritate servanda recolat lector, quod cum 
 hoc anno in Laodonia pestis grassaretur in pecudes armenti, quam 
 vocant usetati Lungessouht, quidam bestiales, habitu claustrales 
 non animo, docebant idiotas patriae ignem confrictione de lignis 
 educere et simulacrum Priapi statuere, et per haec bestiis succur- 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 167 
 
 rere. Quod cum unus laicus Cisterciensis apud Fentone fecisset 
 ante atrium aulas, ac intinctis testiculis canis in aquam benedictam 
 super animalis sparsisset, etc." * 
 
 These examples, which allow us to recognize a clear 
 sexual symbolism in the generation of fire, prove, there- 
 fore, since they originate from different times and differ- 
 ent peoples, the existence of a universal tendency to credit 
 to fire production not only a magical but also a sexual 
 significance. This ceremonial or magic repetition of this 
 very ancient, long-outlived observance shows how insist- 
 ently the human mind clings to the old forms, and how 
 deeply rooted is this very ancient reminiscence of fire 
 boring. One might almost be inclined to see in the sexual 
 symbolism of fire production a relatively late addition to 
 the priestly lore. This may, indeed, be true for the cere- 
 monial elaboration of the fire mysteries, but whether 
 originally the generation of fire was in general a sexual 
 action, that is to say, a " coitus-play," is still a ques- 
 tion. That similar things occur among very primitive 
 people we learn from the Australian tribe of the Wat- 
 schandies,-^ who in the spring perform the following 
 magic ceremonies of fertilization: They dig a hole in 
 the ground, so formed and surrounded with bushes as to 
 
 * Instead of preserving the divine faith in its purity, the reader will 
 call to mind the fact that in this year when the plague, usually called 
 Lung sickness, attacked the herds of cattle in Laodonia, certain bestial men, 
 monks in dress but not in spirit, taught the ignorant people of their country 
 to make fire by rubbing wood together and to set up a statue of Priapus, and 
 by that method to succor the cattle. After a Cistercian lay brother had 
 done this near Fentone, in front of the entrance of the " Court," he 
 sprinkled the animals with holy water and with the preserved testicles of 
 a dog, etc. 
 
i68 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 counterfeit a woman's genitals. They dance the night 
 long around this hole; in connection with this they hold 
 spears in front of themselves in a manner to recall the 
 penis in erection. They dance around the hole and thrust 
 their spears into the ditch, while they cry to it, " Pulli 
 nira, pulli nira, wataka ! " (non fossa, non fossa, sed 
 cunnus !) Such obscene dances appear among other primi- 
 tive races as well.^^ 
 
 In this spring incantation are contained the elements 
 of the coitus play." This play is nothing but a coitus 
 game, that is to say, originally this play was simply a 
 coitus in the form of sacramental mating, which for a 
 long time was a mysterious element among certain cults, 
 and reappeared in sects. ^* In the ceremonies of Zinzen- 
 dorf's followers echoes of the coitus sacrament may be 
 recognized; also in other sects. 
 
 One can easily think that just as the above-mentioned 
 Australian bushmen perform the coitus play in this man- 
 ner the same performance could be enacted in another 
 manner, and, indeed, in the form of fire production. In- 
 stead of through two selected human beings, the coitus 
 was represented by two substitutes, by Pururavas and 
 Urvaci, by Phallus and Vulva, by borer and opening. 
 Just as the primitive thought behind other customs is 
 really the sacramental coition so here the primal tendency 
 is really the act itself. For the act of fertilization is the 
 climax — the true festival of life, and well worthy to be- 
 come the nucleus of a religious mystery. If we are justi- 
 fied In concluding that the symbolism of the hole in the 
 earth used by the Watschandies for the fertilization of 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 169 
 
 the earth takes the place of the coitus, then the genera- 
 tion of fire could be considered in the same way as a 
 substitute for coitus; and, indeed, it might be further con- 
 cluded as a consequence of this reasoning that the inven- 
 tion of fire-making is also due to the need of supplying a 
 symbol for the sexual act.^^ 
 
 Let us return, for a moment, to the infantile symptom 
 of boring. Let us imagine a strong adult man carrying 
 on the boring with two pieces of wood with the same per- 
 severance and the energy corresponding to that of this 
 child. He may very easily create fire by this play. But 
 of greatest significance In this work is the rhythm. ^^ This 
 hypothesis seems to me psychologically possible, although 
 it should not be said with this that only in this way could 
 the discovery of fire occur. It can result just as well by 
 the striking together of flints. It Is scarcely possible that 
 fire was created in only one way. All I want to establish 
 here is merely the psychologic process, the symbolic indi- 
 cations of which point to the possibility that in such a 
 way was fire invented or prepared. 
 
 The existence of the primitive coitus play or rite seems 
 to me sufficiently proven. The only thing that is obscure 
 is the energy and emphasis of the ritual play. It is well 
 known that those primitive rites were often of very bloody 
 seriousness, and were performed with an extraordinary 
 display of energy, which appears as a great contrast to 
 the well-known indolence of primitive humanity. There- 
 fore, the ritual activity entirely loses the character of play, 
 and wins that of purposeful effort. If certain Negro 
 races can dance the whole night long to three tones in 
 
I70 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 the most monotonous manner, then, according to our idea, 
 there is in this an absolute lack of the character of play 
 pastime; it approaches nearer to exercise. There seems 
 to exist a sort of compulsion to transfer the libido into 
 such ritual activity. If the basis of the ritual activity is 
 the sexual act, we may assume that it is really the under- 
 lying thought and object of the exercise. Under these 
 circumstances, the question arises why the primitive man 
 endeavors to represent the sexual act symbolically and 
 with effort, or, if this wording appears to be too hypo- 
 thetical, why does he exert energy to such a degree only 
 to accomplish practically useless things, which apparently 
 do not especially amuse him? " It may be assumed that 
 the sexual act is more desirable to primitive man than 
 such absurd and, moreover, fatiguing exercises. It is 
 hardly possible but that a certain compulsion conducts the 
 energy away from the original object and real purpose, 
 inducing the production of surrogates. The existence of 
 a phallic or orgiastic cult does not indicate eo ipso a par- 
 ticularly lascivious life any more than the ascetic sym- 
 bolism of Christianity means an especially moral life. 
 One honors that which one does not possess or that which 
 one is not. This compulsion, to speak in the nomenclature 
 formulated above, removes a certain amount of libido 
 from the real sexual activity, and creates a symbolic and 
 practically valid substitute for what Is lost. This psy- 
 chology is confirmed by the aboye-mentioned Watschandie 
 ceremony; during the entire ceremony none of the men 
 may look at a woman. This detail again informs us 
 from whence the libido is to be diverted. But this gives 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 171 
 
 rise to the pressing question, Whence comes this compul- 
 sion ? We have already suggested above that the primi- 
 tive sexuahty encounters a resistance which leads to a 
 side-tracking of the libido on to substitution actions 
 (analog}^, symbolism, etc.). It is unthinkable that it is a 
 question of any outer opposition whatsoever, or of a real 
 obstacle, since it occurs to no savage to catch his elusive 
 quarry with ritual charms; but it is a question of an in- 
 ternal resistance; will opposes will; libido opposes libido, 
 since a psychologic resistance as an energic phenomenon 
 corresponds to a certain amount of libido. The psycho- 
 logic compulsion for the transformation of the libido is 
 based on an original division of the will. I will return 
 to this primal splitting of the libido in another place. 
 Here let us concern ourselves only with the problem of 
 the transition of the Hbido. The transition takes place, 
 as has been repeatedly suggested by means of shifting to 
 an analogy. The libido is taken away from its proper 
 place and transferred to another substratum. 
 
 The resistance against sexuality aims, therefore, at 
 preventing the sexual act; it also seeks to crowd the libido 
 away from the sexual function. We see, for example, in 
 hysteria, how the specific repression blocks the real path 
 of transference; therefore, the libido is obliged to take 
 another path, and that an earlier one, namely, the in- 
 cestuous road which ultimately leads to the parents. Let 
 us speak, however, of the incest prohibition, which hin- 
 dered the very first sexual transference. Then the situa- 
 tion changes in so far that no earlier way of transference 
 is left, except that of the presexual stage of development, 
 
172 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 where the hbldo was still partly in the function of nutri- 
 tion. By a regression to the presexual material the libido 
 becomes quasi-desexualized. But as the incest prohibition 
 signifies only a temporary and conditional restriction of 
 the sexuality, thus only that part of the libido which is 
 best designated as the incestuous component is now 
 pushed back to the presexual stage. The repression, 
 therefore, concerns only that part of the sexual libido 
 which wishes to fix itself permanently upon the parents. 
 The sexual libido is only withdrawn from the incestuous 
 component, repressed upon the presexual stage, and 
 there, if the operation is successful, desexualized, by 
 which this amount of libido is prepared for an asexual 
 application. However, it is to be assumed that this opera- 
 tion is accomplished only with difficulty, because the 
 incestuous libido, so to speak, must be artificially sepa- 
 rated from the sexual libido, with which, for ages, through 
 the whole animal kingdom, it was indistinguishably united. 
 The regression of the incestuous component must, there- 
 fore, take place, not only with great difficulty, but also 
 carry with it into the presexual stage a considerable 
 sexual character. The consequence of this is that the re- 
 sulting phenomena, although stamped with the character 
 of the sexual act, are, nevertheless, not really sexual acts 
 de facto; they are derived from the presexual stage, and 
 are maintained by the repressed sexual libido, therefore 
 possess a double significance. Thus the fire boring is a 
 coitus (and, to be sure, an incestuous one), but a desexu- 
 alized one, which has lost its immediate sexual worth, and 
 is, therefore, indirectly useful to the propagation of the 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 173 
 
 species. The presexual stage Is characterized by count- 
 less possibilities of application, because the libido has not 
 yet formed definite localizations. It therefore appears 
 intelligible that an amount of libido which reaches this 
 stage through regression is confronted with manifold pos- 
 sibilities of application. Above all, it is met with the 
 possibility of a purely onanistic activity. But as the mat- 
 ter in question in the regressive component of libido is 
 sexual libido, the ultimate object of which Is propagation, 
 therefore it goes to the external object (Parents) ; it will 
 also Introvert with this destination as its essential char- 
 acter. The result, therefore, is that the purely onanistic 
 activity turns out to be insufficient, and another object 
 must be sought for, which takes the place of the incest 
 object. The nurturing mother earth represents the ideal 
 example of such an object. The psychology of the pre- 
 sexual stage contributes the nutrition component; the 
 sexual libido the coitus Idea. From this the ancient sym- 
 bols of agriculture arise. In the work of agriculture 
 hunger and incest intermingle. The ancient cults of 
 mother earth and all the superstitions founded thereon 
 saw in the cultivation of the earth the fertilization of the 
 mother. The aim of the action is desexualized, however, 
 for it Is the fruit of the field and the nourishment con- 
 tained therein. The regression resulting from the incest 
 prohibition leads, in this case, to the new valuation of the 
 mother; this time, however, not as a sexual object, but 
 as a nourlsher. 
 
 The discovery of fire seems to be due to a very similar 
 regression to the pre-sexual stage, more particularly to the 
 
174 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 nearest stage of the displaced rhythmic manifestation. 
 The libido, Introverted from the incest prohibition (with 
 the more detailed designation of the motor components 
 of coitus), when it reaches the presexual stage, meets 
 the related infantile boring, to which it now gives, m ac- 
 cordance with its realistic destination, an actual material. 
 (Therefore the material is fittingly called " materia," 
 as the object Is the mother as above.) As I sought to 
 show above, the action of the Infantile boring requires 
 only the strength and perseverance of an adult man and 
 suitable " material " in order to generate fire. If this is 
 so, it may be expected that analogous to our foregoing 
 case of onanistic boring the generation of fire originally 
 occurred as such an act of quasi-onanistic activity, ob- 
 jectively expressed. The demonstration of this can never 
 be actually furnished, but it Is thinkable that somewhere 
 traces of this original onanistic preliminary exercise of 
 fire production have been preserved. I have succeeded In 
 finding a passage in a very old monument of Hindoo 
 literature which contains this transition of the sexual 
 libido through the onanistic phase in the preparation of 
 fire. This passage is found In Brihadaranyaka-Upani- 
 shad : "^ 
 
 " In truth, he (Atman)^^ was as large as a woman and a man, 
 when they embrace each other. This, his own self, he divided 
 into two parts, out of which husband and wife were formed.^" 
 With her, he copulated; from this humanity sprang. She, how- 
 ever, pondered : ' How may he unite with me after he has created 
 me from himself? Now I shall hide! ' Then she became a cow; 
 he, however, became a bull and mated with her. From that 
 sprang the horned cattle. Then she became a mare; he, however, 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 175 
 
 became a stallion; she became a she-ass; he, an ass, and mated with 
 her. From these sprang the whole-hoofed animals. She became 
 a goat; he became a buck; she became an ewe; he became a ram, 
 and mated with her. Thus were created goats and sheep. Thus 
 it happened that all that mates, even down to the ants, he created 
 — then he perceived : ' Truly I myself am Creation, for I have 
 created the whole world! ' Thereupon he rubbed his hands (held 
 before the mouth) so that he brought forth fire from his mouth, 
 as from the mother womb, and from his hands." 
 
 We meet here a peculiar myth of creation which re- 
 quires a psychologic interpretation. In the beginning the 
 libido was undifferentiated and bisexual; ^^ this was fol- 
 lowed by differentiation into a male and a female com- 
 ponent. From then on man knows what he is. Now 
 follows a gap in the coherence of the thought where 
 belongs that very resistance which we have postulated 
 above for the explanation of the urge for sublimation. 
 Next follows the onanistic act of rubbing or boring (here 
 finger-sucking) transferred from the sexual zone, from 
 which proceeds the production of fire.'^ The libido here 
 leaves its characteristic manifestation as sexual function 
 and regresses to the presexual stage, where, in conformity 
 with the above explanation, it occupies one of the pre- 
 liminary stages of sexuality, thereby producing. In the 
 view expressed In the Upanishad, the first human art, 
 and from there, as suggested by Kuhn's Idea of the root 
 " manth," perhaps the higher Intellectual activity In gen- 
 eral. This course of development is not strange to the 
 psychiatrist, for It Is a well-known psychopathologlcal fact 
 that onanism and excessive activity of phantasy are very 
 closely related. (The sexualizlng-autonomlzing of the 
 
176 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 mind through autoerotism ^^ is so familiar a fact that 
 examples of that are superfluous.) The course of the 
 libido, as we may conclude from these studies, originally 
 proceeded in a similar manner as in the child, only in a 
 reversed sequence. The sexual act was pushed out of its 
 proper zone and was transferred into the analogous 
 mouth zone ^* — the mouth receiving the significance of the 
 female genitals; the hand and the fingers, respectively, re- 
 ceiving the phallic meaning.^^ In this manner the regress- 
 ively reoccupied activity of the presexual stage is invested 
 with the sexual significance, which, indeed, it already 
 possessed, in part, before, but in a wholly different sense. 
 Certain functions of the presexual stage are found to be 
 permanently suitable, and, therefore, are retained later 
 on as sexual functions. Thus, for example, the mouth 
 zone Is retained as of erotic importance, meaning that its 
 valuation is permanently fixed. Concerning the mouth, 
 we know that it also has a sexual meaning among animals, 
 inasmuch as, for example, stallions bite mares in the sexual 
 act; also, cats, cocks, etc. A second significance of the 
 mouth is as an Instrument of speech. It serves essentially 
 In the production of the mating call, which mostly repre- 
 sents the developed tones of the animal kingdom. As to 
 the hand, we know that It has the important significance 
 of the contrectatlon organ (for example, among frogs). 
 The frequent erotic use of the hand among monkeys Is 
 well known. If there exists a resistance against the real 
 sexuality, then the accumulated libido is most likely to 
 cause a hyperfunction of those collaterals which are most 
 adapted to compensate for the resistance, that is to say. 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 177 
 
 the nearest functions which serve for the introduction of 
 the act;^^ on one side the function of the hand, on the 
 other that of the mouth. The sexual act, however, against 
 which the opposition is directed is replaced by a similar 
 act of the presexual stage, the classic case being either 
 finger-sucking or boring. Just as among apes the foot 
 can on occasions take the place of the hand, so the child 
 is often uncertain in the choice of the object to suck, and 
 puts the big toe in the mouth instead of the finger. This 
 last movement belongs to a Hindoo rite, only the big toe 
 was not put in the mouth, but held against the eye." 
 Through the sexual significance of the hand and mouth 
 these organs, which in the presexual stage served to ob- 
 tain pleasure, are invested with a procreating power 
 which is identical with the above-mentioned destination, 
 which aims at the external object, because it concerns the 
 sexual or creating libido. When, through the actual 
 preparation of fire, the sexual character of the libido em- 
 ployed in that is fulfilled, then the mouth zone remains 
 without adequate expression; only the hand has now 
 reached its real, purely human goal in its first art. 
 
 The mouth has, as we saw, a further important func- 
 tion, which has just as much sexual relation to the object 
 as the hand, that is to say, the production of the mating 
 call. In opening up the autoerotic ring ( hand-mouth ),^^ 
 where the phallic hand became the fire-producing tool, 
 the libido which was directed to the mouth zone was 
 obliged to seek another path of functioning, which natu- 
 rally was found in the already existing love call. The 
 excess of libido entering here must have had the usual 
 
178 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 results, namely, the stimulation of the newly possessed 
 function; hence an elaboration of the mating call. 
 
 We know that from the primitive sounds human speech 
 has developed. Corresponding to the psychological situa- 
 tion, it might be assumed that language owes its real 
 origin to this moment, when the impulse, repressed into 
 the presexual stage, turns to the external in order to find 
 an equivalent object there. The real thought as a con- 
 scious activity is, as we saw in the first part of this book, 
 a thinking with positive determination towards the ex- 
 ternal world, that is to say, a " speech thinking." This 
 sort of thinking seems to have originated at that moment. 
 It is very remarkable that this view, which was won by 
 the path of reasoning, is again supported by old tradition 
 and other mythological fragments. 
 
 In Aitareyopanishad ^^ the following quotation is to 
 be found in the doctrine of the development of man: 
 " Being brooded-o'er, his mouth hatched out, like as an 
 egg; from out his mouth (came) speech, from speech, the 
 fire." In Part II, where it is depicted how the newly 
 created objects entered man, it reads: " Fire, speech be- 
 coming, entered in the mouth." These quotations allow 
 us to plainly recognize the intimate connection between 
 fire and speech.*" In Brihadaranyaka-Upanishad is to be 
 found this passage : 
 
 " ' Yaynavalkya,' thus he spake, ' when after the death of this 
 man his speech entereth the fire, his breath into the wind, his eye 
 into the sun, etc' " 
 
 A further quotation from the Brihadaranyaka-Upani- 
 shad reads: 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 179 
 
 " But when the sun is set, O Yaynavalkya, and the moon has 
 set, and the fire is extinguished, what then serves man as light? 
 Then speech serves him as light; then, by the light of speech 
 he sits, and moves, he carries on his work, and he returns home. 
 But when the sun is set, O Yaynavalkya, and the moon is set, 
 and the fire extinguished, and the voice is dumb, what then serves 
 man as light? Then he serves himself (Atman) as light; then, 
 by the light of himself, he sits and moves, carries on his work 
 and returns home." 
 
 In this passage we notice that fire again stands In the 
 closest relation to speech. Speech itself is called a 
 " light," which, in its turn, is reduced to the " light " of 
 the Atman, the creating psychic force, the libido. Thus 
 the Hindoo metapsychology conceives speech and fire 
 as emanations of the inner light from which we know 
 that it is libido. Speech and fire are its forms of mani- 
 festation, the first human arts, which have resulted from 
 its transformation. This common psychologic origin 
 seems also to be indicated by certain results of philology. 
 The Indo-Germanic root bhd designates the idea of " to 
 lighten, to shine." This root is found in Greek, g)aoOf 
 (paivGOy g}do? *j in old Icelandic ban = white, in New 
 High German bohnen = to make shining. The same root 
 bhd also designates "to speak"; it is found in Sanskrit 
 bhan = to speak, Armenian ban = word, in New High 
 German bann =^ to banish, Greek (pa-;^if s'tpav, (par i?.\ 
 Latin fd-ri, fdnum. 
 
 The root bhelso, with the meanings " to ring, to bark," 
 is found in Sanskrit bhas = to bark and bhds = to talk, 
 
 * To shine; to show forth; reveal; — light, 
 tl said; they said; a saying; an oracle. 
 
i8o PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 to speak; Lithuanian balsas = voice, tone. Re^llf bhel-so 
 = to be bright or luminous. Compare Greek cpdXo? =: 
 bright, Lithuanian bdlti = to become white. Middle High 
 German blasz = pale. 
 
 The root Id, with the meaning of " to make sound, to 
 bark," is found in Sanskrit las, ldsati = to resound; and 
 las, Idsati = to radiate, to shine. 
 
 The related root leso, with the meaning " desire," is 
 also found in Sanskrit las, Idsati = to play; lash, Idshati 
 = to desire. Greek A ao-rorL'po? = lustful, Gothic lustus, 
 New High German Lust, Latin lascivus. 
 
 A further related root, Idso = to shine, to radiate, is 
 found in las, Idsati = to radiate, to shine. 
 
 This group unites, as is evident, the meanings of " to 
 desire, to play, to radiate, and to sound." A similar 
 archaic confluence of meanings in the primal libido sym- 
 bolism (as we are perhaps justified in calling it) is found 
 in that class of Egyptian words which are derived from 
 the closely related roots ben and bel and the reduplication 
 benben and belbel. The original significance of these 
 roots is " to burst forth, to emerge, to extrude, to well 
 out," with the associated idea of bubbling, boiling and 
 roundness. Belbel, accompanied by the sign of the obe- 
 lisk, of originally phallic nature, means source of light. 
 The obelisk itself had besides the names of techenu and 
 men also the name benben, more rarely berber and 
 belbel.^^ The libido symbolism makes clear this connec- 
 tion, it seems to me. 
 
 The Indo-Germanic root vel, with the meaning " to 
 wave, to undulate" (fire), is found in Sanskrit ulunka 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO i8i 
 
 = burning, Greek a\sa, Attic a\ea = warmtli of the 
 sun, Gothic vulan = to undulate, Old High German and 
 Middle High German walni = heat, glow. 
 
 The related Indo-Germanic root velko, with the mean- 
 ing of " to lighten, to glow," is found in Sanskrit iilkd — 
 firebrand, Greek FfAj^ro?^ Vulcan. This same root 
 vel means also " to sound " ; in Sanskrit vdni == tone, song, 
 music. Tschech volati = to call. 
 
 The root sveno = to sound, to ring, is found in San- 
 skrit svan, svdnati = to rustle, to sound; Zend qanaht, 
 Latin sondre, Old Iranian senm, Cambrian sain, Latin 
 sonus, Anglo-Saxon svinsian = to resound. The related 
 root svenos = noise, sound, is found in Vedic svdnas = 
 noise, Latin sonor, sonorus. A further related root is 
 svonos = tone, noise; in Old Iranian son = word. 
 
 The root sve (n), locative sveni, dative sunei, means 
 sun; in Zend qehg = sun. (Compare above sveno, Zend 
 qanafit) ; Gothic sun-na, sunno.*^ Here Goethe has pre- 
 ceded us : 
 
 " The sun orb sings in emulation, 
 'Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round: 
 His path predestined through Creation, 
 He ends with step of thunder sound." 
 
 — Faust. Part I. 
 
 "Hearken! Hark! the hours careering! 
 Sounding loud to spirit-hearing, 
 See the new-born Day appearing! 
 Rocky portals jarring shatter, 
 Phoebus' wheels in rolling clatter, 
 With a crash the Light draws near! 
 Pealing rays and trumpet-blazes, 
 Eye is blinded, ear amazes; 
 
i82 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 The Unheard can no one hear! 
 Slip within each blossom-bell, 
 Deeper, deeper, there to dwell, — 
 In the rocks, beneath the leaf! 
 If it strikes you, you are deaf." 
 
 — Faust. Part II. 
 
 We also must not forget the beautiful verse of Hol- 
 derlin : 
 
 " Where art thou? Drunken, my soul dreams 
 Of all thy rapture. Yet even now I hearken 
 As full of golden tones the radiant sun youth 
 Upon his heavenly lyre plays his even song 
 To the echoing woods and hills." 
 
 Just as in archaic speech fire and the speech sounds 
 (the mating call, music) appear as forms of emanation 
 of the libido, thus light and sound entering the psyche be- 
 come one : libido. 
 
 Manilius expresses it in his beautiful verses: 
 
 " Quid mirum noscere mundum 
 Si possunt homines, quibus est et mundus in ipsis 
 Exemplumque dei quisque est in imagine parva? 
 An quoquam genitos nisi caelo credere fas est 
 Esse homines? 
 
 Stetit unus in arcem 
 Erectus capitis victorque ad sidera mittit sidereos oculos." * 
 
 The idea of the Sanskrit tejas suggests the fundamental 
 significance of the libido for the conception of the world 
 in general. I am indebted to Dr. Abegg, in Zurich, a 
 
 * Why is it wonderful to understand the universe, if men are able? i.e., 
 men in whose very being the universe exists and each one (of whom) is 
 a representative of God in miniature? Or is it right to believe that men 
 have sprung in any way except from heaven — He alone stands in the 
 midst of the citadel, a conqueror, his head erect and his shining eyes fixed 
 on the stars. 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 183 
 
 thorough Sanskrit scholar, for the compilation of the 
 eight meanings of this word. 
 
 Tejas signifies : 
 
 1. Sharpness, cutting edge. 
 
 2. Fire, splendor, light, glow, heat. 
 
 3. Healthy appearance, beauty. 
 
 4. The fiery and color-producing power of the human 
 organism (thought to be in the bile). 
 
 5. Power, energy, vital force. 
 
 6. Passionate nature. 
 
 7. Mental, also magic, strength; influence, position, 
 dignity. 
 
 8. Sperma. 
 
 This gives us a dim idea of how, for primitive 
 thought, the so-called objective world was, and had to be, 
 a subjective image. To this thought must be applied the 
 words of the " Chorus Mysticus " : 
 
 " All that is perishable 
 Is only an allegory." 
 
 The Sanskrit word for fire is agnis (.the Latin ignis) ; ** 
 the fire personified is the god Agni, the divine mediator,^* 
 whose symbol has certain points of contact with that of 
 Christ. In Avesta and in the Vedas the fire is the mes- 
 senger of the gods. In the Christian mythology certain 
 parts are closely related with the myth of Agni. Daniel 
 speaks of the three men in the fiery furnace : 
 
 " Then Nebuchadnezar, the King, was astonished, and rose 
 up in haste and spake, and said unto his counsellors : ' Did not 
 we cast three men bound into the midst of the fire? ' 
 
i84 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 " They answered and said: ' True, O King! ' 
 
 " He answered and said : ' Lo, I see four men loose, walking 
 in the midst of the fire, and they have no hurt; and the form of 
 the fourth is like the Son of God.' " 
 
 In regard to that the " Biblia pauperum " observes 
 (according to an old German incunabulum of 147 1) : 
 
 " One reads in the third chapter of the prophet Daniel that 
 Nebuchadnezar, the King, caused three men to be placed in a 
 glowing furnace and that the king often went there, looked in, 
 and that he saw with the three, a fourth, who was like the Son 
 of God. The three signify for us, the Holy Trinity and the 
 fourth, the unity of the being, Christ, too, in His explanation 
 designated the person of the Trinity and the unity of the being." 
 
 According to this mystic interpretation, the legend of 
 the three men in the fiery furnace appears as a magic 
 fire ceremony by means of which the Son of God reveals 
 himself. The Trinity is brought together with the unity, 
 or, in other words, through coitus a child is produced. 
 The glowing furnace (like the glowing tripod in 
 "Faust") is a mother symbol, where the children are 
 produced.*^ The fourth in the fiery furnace appears as 
 Christ, the Son of God, who has become a visible God 
 in the fire. The mystic trinity and unity are sexual sym- 
 bols. ( Compare with that the many references in Inman : 
 " Ancient Pagan and Modern Christian Symbolism.") It 
 is said of the Saviour of Israel (the Messiah) and of his 
 enemies, Isaiah x: 17: 
 
 " And the light of Israel shall be for a fire, and his Holy One 
 for a flame." 
 
 In a hymn of the Syrian Ephrem it is said of Christ: 
 " Thou who art all fire, have mercy upon me." 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 185 
 
 Agni is the sacrificial flame, the sacrificer, and the sac- 
 rificed, as Christ himself. Just as Christ left behind his 
 redeeming blood, qxipfiauov aOavaffia?,* in the stimu- 
 lating wine, so Agni is the Soma, the holy drink of in- 
 spiration, the mead of immortality.** Soma and Fire 
 are entirely identical in Hindoo literature, so that in 
 Soma we easily rediscover the libido symbol, through 
 which a series of apparently paradoxical qualities of the 
 Soma are immediately explained. As the old Hindoos 
 recognized in fire an emanation of the inner libido fire, 
 so too they recognized, in the intoxicating drink (Fire- 
 water, Soma-Agni, as rain and fire), an emanation of 
 libido. The Vedic definition of Soma as seminal fluid 
 confirms this interpretation.*^ The Soma significance of 
 fire, similar to the significance of the body of Christ in the 
 Last Supper (compare the Passover lamb of the Jews, 
 baked in the form of a cross), is explained by the psy- 
 chology of the presexual stage, where the libido was still 
 in part the function of nutrition. The " Soma " is the 
 " nourishing drink," the mythological characterization of 
 which runs parallel to fire in its origin; therefore, both are 
 united in Agni. The drink of immortality was stirred by 
 the Hindoo gods like fire. Through the retreat of the 
 libido into the presexual stage it becomes clear why so 
 many gods were either defined sexually or were devoured. 
 
 As was shown by our discussion of fire preparation, the 
 fire tool did not receive its sexual significance as a later 
 addition, but the sexual libido was the motor power which 
 led to its discovery, so that the later teachings of the 
 
 ♦A potion of immortality. 
 
i86 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 priests were nothing but confirmations of its actual origin. 
 Other primitive discoveries probably have acquired their 
 sexual symbolism in the same manner, being also derived 
 from the sexual libido. 
 
 In the previous statements, which were based on the 
 Pramantha of the Agni sacrifice, we have concerned our- 
 selves only with one significance of the word manthami 
 or mathnami, that is to say, with that which expresses 
 the movement of rubbing. As Kuhn shows, however, this 
 word also possesses the meaning of tearing off, taking 
 away by violence, robbing.** As Kuhn points out, this 
 significance is already extant in the Vedic text. The 
 legend of its discovery always expresses the production of 
 fire as a robbery. (In this far it belongs to the motive 
 widely spread over the earth of the treasure difficult to 
 attain.) The fact that in many places and not alone in 
 India the preparation of fire is represented as having its 
 origin in robbery, seems to point to a widely spread 
 thought, according to which the preparation of fire was 
 something forbidden, something usurped or criminal, 
 which could be obtained only through stratagem or deeds 
 of violence (mostly through stratagem).*^ When onan- 
 ism confronts the physician as a symptom it does so fre- 
 quently under the symbol of secret pilfering, or crafty 
 imposition, which always signifies the concealed fulfil- 
 ment of a forbidden wish.^" Historically, this train of 
 thought probably implies that the ritual preparation of 
 fire was employed with a magic purpose, and, therefore, 
 was pursued by official religions; then it became a ritual 
 mystery,^^ guarded by the priests and surrounded with 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 187 
 
 secrecy. The ritual laws of the Hindoos threaten with 
 severe punishment him who prepares fire in an incorrect 
 manner. The fact alone that something is mysterious 
 means the same as something done in concealment; that 
 which must remain secret, which one may not see nor do; 
 also something which is surrounded by severe punish- 
 ment of body and soul; therefore, presumably, something 
 forbidden which has received a license as a religious rite. 
 After all has been said about the genesis of the prepara- 
 tion of fire, it is no longer difficult to guess what is the 
 forbidden thing; it is onanism. When I stated before 
 that it might be lack of satisfaction which breaks up the 
 autoerotic ring of the displaced sexual activity transferred 
 to the body itself, and thus opens wider fields of culture, 
 I did not mention that this loosely closed ring of the dis- 
 placed onanlstic activity could be much more firmly closed, 
 when man makes the other great discovery, that of true 
 onanism. ^^ With that the activity is started in the proper 
 place, and this, under certain circumstances, may mean a 
 satisfaction sufficient for a long time, but at the expense 
 of cheating sexuality of Its real purpose. It Is a fraud 
 upon the natural development of things, because all the 
 dynamic forces which can and should serve the develop- 
 ment of culture are withdrawn from it through onanism, 
 since, Instead of the displacement, a regression to the local 
 sexual takes place, which Is precisely the opposite of that 
 which is desirable. Psychologically, however, onanism Is 
 a discovery of a significance not to be undervalued. One 
 is protected from fate, since no sexual need then has the 
 power to give one up to life. For with onanism one has 
 
i88 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 the greatest magic in one's hands; one needs only to 
 phantasy, and with that to masturbate, then one possesses 
 all the pleasure of the world, and is no longer compelled 
 to conquer the world of one's desires through hard labor 
 and wrestling with reality.^^ Aladdin rubs his lamp and 
 the obedient genii stand at his bidding; thus the fairy tale 
 expresses the great psychologic advantage of the easy re- 
 gression to the local sexual satisfaction. Aladdin's sym- 
 bol subtly confirms the ambiguity of the magic fire 
 preparation. 
 
 The close relation of the generation of fire to the onan- 
 istic act is illustrated by a case, the knowledge of which I 
 owe to Dr. Schmid, in Cery, that of an imbecile peasant 
 youth who set many incendiary fires. At one of these 
 conflagrations he drew suspicion to himself by his be- 
 havior. He stood with his hands in his trouser pockets 
 in the door of an opposite house and gazed with apparent 
 delight at the fire. Under examination in the insane 
 asylum, he described the fire in great detail, and made 
 suspicious movements in his ^trouser pockets with his 
 hands. The physical examination undertaken at once 
 showed that he had masturbated. Later he confessed 
 that he had masturbated at the time when he had enjoyed 
 the fire which he had enkindled himself. 
 
 The preparation of fire in itself is a perfectly ordinary 
 useful custom, employed everywhere for many centuries, 
 which in itself involved nothing more mysterious than 
 eating and drinking. However, there was always a tend- 
 ency from time to time to prepare fire in a ceremonious 
 and mysterious manner (exactly as with ritual eating and 
 
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE LIBIDO 189 
 
 drinking) , which was to be carried out in an exactly pre- 
 scribed way and from which no one dared differ. This 
 mysterious tendency associated with the technique is the 
 second path in the onanistic regression, always present 
 by the side of culture. The strict rules applied to it, 
 the zeal of the ceremonial preparations and the religious 
 awe of the mysteries next originate from this source; 
 the ceremonial, although apparently irrational, is an ex- 
 tremely ingenious institution from the psychologic stand- 
 point, for it represents a substitute for the possibility of 
 onanistic regression accurately circumscribed by law. 
 The law cannot apply to the content of the ceremony, for 
 it is really quite indifferent for the ritual act, whether it 
 is carried out in this way or in that way. On the con- 
 trary, it is very essential whether the restrained libido is 
 discharged through a sterile onanism or transposed into 
 the path of sublimation. These severe measures of pro- 
 tection apply primarily to onanism.^* 
 
 I am indebted to Freud for a further important refer- 
 ence to the onanistic nature of the fire theft, or rather 
 the motive of the treasure difficult of attainment (to 
 which fire theft belongs). Mythology contains repeated 
 formulas v/hich read approximately as follows: The 
 treasure must be plucked or torn off from a taboo tree 
 (Paradise tree, Hesperides) ; this is a forbidden and dan- 
 gerous act. The clearest example of this is the old bar- 
 baric custom in the service of Diana of Aricia : only he 
 can become a priest of the goddess who, in her sacred 
 grove, dares to tear off (" abzureissen ") a bough. The 
 tearing off has been retained in vulgar speech (besides 
 
I90 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 " abreiben," rubbing) as a symbol of the act of onanism. 
 Thus " reiben," to rub, Is like " relssen," to break off, 
 both of which are contained In manthami and united 
 apparently only through the myth of the fire theft bound 
 up in the act of onanism in a deeper stratum wherein 
 " reiben," properly speaking, " relssen," is employed, but 
 in a transferred sense. Therefore, it might perhaps be 
 anticipated that In the deepest stratum, namely, the in- 
 cestuous, which precedes the autoerotic stage, °^ the two 
 meanings coincide, which, through lack of mythological 
 tradition, can perhaps be traced through etymology only. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 
 
 Prepared by the previous chapters, we approach the 
 personification of the libido In the form of a conqueror, 
 a hero or a demon. With this, symbohsm leaves the Im- 
 personal and neuter realm, which characterizes the astral 
 and meteorologic symbol, and takes human form: the 
 figure of a being changing from sorrow to joy, from joy 
 to sorrow, and which, like the sun, sometimes stands in 
 Its zenith, sometimes Is plunged In darkest night, and 
 arises from this very night to new splendor/ Just as the 
 sun, guided by Its own Internal laws, ascends from morn 
 till noon, and passing beyond the noon descends towards 
 evening, leaving behind its splendor, and then sinks com- 
 pletely Into the all-enveloping night, thus, too, does man- 
 kind follow his course according to Immutable laws, and 
 also sinks, after his course is completed. Into night, in 
 order to rise again In the morning to a new cycle in his 
 children. The symbolic transition from sun to man is 
 easy and practicable. The third and last creation of 
 Miss Miller's also takes this course. She calls this piece 
 " Chiwantopel," a " hypnagogic poem." She gives us the 
 following Information about the circumstances surround- 
 ing the origin of this phantasy: 
 
 " After an evening of care and anxiety, I lay down to sleep 
 at about half past eleven. I felt excited and unable to sleep, 
 
 191 
 
192 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 although I was very tired. There was no light in the room. I 
 closed my eyes, and then I had the feeling that something was 
 about to happen. The sensation of a general relaxation came 
 over me, and I remained as passive as possible. Lines appeared 
 before my eyes, — sparks and shining spirals, followed by a kaleido- 
 scopic review of recent trivial occurrences." 
 
 The reader will regret with me that we cannot know 
 the reason for her cares and anxieties. It would have 
 been of great importance for what follows to have infor- 
 mation on this point. This gap in our knowledge is the 
 more to be deplored because, between the first poem in 
 1898 and the time of the phantasy here discussed ( 1902), 
 four whole years have passed. All information is lacking 
 regarding this period, during which the great problem 
 surely survived in the unconscious. Perhaps this lack has 
 Its advantages In that our Interest Is not diverted from 
 the universal applicability of the phantasy here produced 
 by sympathy In regard to the personal fate of the author. 
 Therefore, something Is obviated which often prevents 
 the analyst In his daily task from looking away from the 
 tedious toll of detail to that wider relation which reveals 
 each neurotic conflict to be Involved with human fate as a 
 whole. 
 
 The condition depicted by the author here corresponds 
 to such a one as usually precedes an Intentional somnam- 
 bulism ^ often described by spiritualistic mediums. A cer- 
 tain inclination to listen to these low nocturnal voices 
 must be assumed; otherwise such fine and hardly per- 
 ceptible Inner experiences pass unnoticed. We recognize 
 In this listening a current of the libido leading Inward 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 193 
 
 and beginning to flow towards a still invisible, mysterious 
 goal. It seems that the libido has suddenly discovered an 
 object in the depths of the unconscious which powerfully 
 attracts it. The life of man, turned wholly to the external 
 by nature, does not ordinarily permit such introversion; 
 there must, therefore, be surmised a certain exceptional 
 condition, that is to say, a lack of external objects, which 
 compels the individual to seek a substitute for them in his 
 own soul. It is, however, difficult to imagine that this 
 rich world has become too poor to offer an object for 
 the love of human atoms; nor can the world and its 
 objects be held accountable for this lack. It offers bound- 
 less opportunities for every one. It is rather the inca- 
 pacity to love which robs mankind of his possibilities. 
 This world is empty to him alone who does not under- 
 stand how to direct his libido towards objects, and to 
 render them alive and beautiful for himself, for Beauty 
 does not indeed lie in things, but in the feeling that we 
 give to them. That which compels us to create a sub- 
 stitute for ourselves is not the external lack of objects, 
 but our incapacity to lovingly include a thing outside of 
 ourselves. Certainly the difficulties of the conditions of 
 life and the adversities of the struggle for existence may 
 oppress us, yet even adverse external situations would not 
 hinder the giving out of the libido; on the contrary, they 
 may spur us on to the greatest exertions, whereby we 
 bring our whole libido into reality. Real difficulties alone 
 will never be able to force the libido back permanently 
 to such a degree as to give rise, for example, to a neu- 
 rosis. The conflict, which is the condition of every neu- 
 
194 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 rosis, is lacking. The resistance, which opposes its un- 
 willingness to the will, alone has the power to produce 
 that pathogenic introversion which is the starting point of 
 every psychogenic disturbance. The resistance against 
 loving produces the inability to love. Just as the normal 
 libido is comparable to a steady stream which pours its 
 waters broadly into the world of reality, so the resistance, 
 dynamically considered, is comparable, not so much to a 
 rock rearing up in the river bed which is flooded over 
 or surrounded by the stream, as to a backward flow 
 towards the source. A part of the soul desires the outer 
 object; another part, however, harks back to the sub- 
 jective world, where the airy and fragile palaces of 
 phantasy beckon. One can assume the dualism of the 
 human will for which Bleuler, from the psychiatric point 
 of view, has coined the word " ambitendency" ^ as some- 
 thing generally present, bearing in mind that even 
 the most primitive motor Impulse is in opposition; as, 
 for example, in the act of extension, the flexor muscles 
 also become innervated. This normal ambitendency, 
 however, never leads to an inhibition or prevention of the 
 intended act, but is the indispensable preliminary require- 
 ment for its perfection and coordination. For a resist- 
 ance disturbing to this act to arise from this harmony of 
 finely attuned opposition an abnormal plus or minus 
 would be needed on one or the other side. The resist- 
 ance originates from this added third.* This applies also 
 to the duality of the will, from which so many difficulties 
 arise for mankind. The abnormal third frees the pair 
 of opposltes, which are normally most intimately united, 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 195 
 
 and causes their manifestation in the form of separate 
 tendencies; it is only thus that they become willingness 
 and unwillingness, which interfere with each other. The 
 Bhagavad-Gita says, " Be thou free of the pairs of 
 opposites." '^ The harmony thus becomes disharmony. 
 It cannot be my task here to investigate whence the un- 
 known third arises, and what it is. Taken at the roots 
 in the case of our patients, the " nuclear complex " 
 (Freud) reveals itself as the incest problem. The sexual 
 libido regressing to the parents appears as the incest tend- 
 ency. The reason this path is so easily travelled is due 
 to the enormous indolence of mankind, which will relin- 
 quish no object of the past, but will hold it fast forever. 
 The " sacrilegious backward grasp " of which Nietzsche 
 speaks reveals itself, stripped of its incest covering, 
 as an original passive arrest of the libido in its first object 
 of childhood. This indolence is also a passion, as La 
 Rochefoucauld '^ has brilliantly expressed it: 
 ■ 
 
 " Of all passions, that which is least known to ourselves is 
 indolence: it is the most ardent and malignant of them all, al- 
 though its violence may be insensible, and the injuries it causes 
 may be hidden; if we will consider its power attentively, we will 
 see that it makes itself, upon all occasions, mistress of our senti- 
 ments, of our interests, and of our pleasures; it is the anchor, 
 which has the power to arrest the largest vessels; it is a calm more 
 dangerous to the most important affairs than rocks and the worst 
 tempest. The repose of indolence is a secret charm of the soul 
 which suddenly stops the most ardent pursuits and the firmest 
 resolutions; finally to give the true idea of this passion, one 
 must say that indolence is like a beatitude of the soul which 
 consoles it for all its losses and takes the place of all its posses- 
 sions." 
 
196 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 This dangerous passion, belonging above all others to 
 primitive man, appears under the hazardous mask of the 
 incest symbol, from which the incest fear must drive us 
 away, and which must be conquered, in the first place, 
 under the image of the " terrible mother." ^ It is the 
 mother of innumerable evils, not the least of which are 
 neurotic troubles. For, especially from the fogs of the 
 arrested remnants of the libido, arise the harmful phan- 
 tasmagoria which so veil reality that adaptation becomes 
 almost impossible. However, we will not investigate any 
 further in this place the foundations of the incest phan- 
 tasies. The preliminary suggestion of my purely psycho- 
 logic conception of the incest problem may suffice. We 
 are here only concerned with the question whether resist- 
 ance which leads to introversion in our author signifies 
 a conscious external difficulty or not. If it were an ex- 
 ternal difficulty, then, indeed, the libido would be violently 
 dammed back, and would produce a flood of phantasies, 
 which can best be designated as schemes, that is to say, 
 plans as to how the obstacles could be overcome. They 
 would be very concrete ideas of reality which seek to pave 
 the way for solutions. It would be a strenuous medita- 
 tion, indeed, which would be more likely to lead to any- 
 thing rather than to a hypnagogic poem. The passive 
 condition depicted above in no way fits in with a real ex- 
 ternal obstacle, but, precisely through its passive submis- 
 sion, it indicates a tendency which doubtless scorns real 
 solutions and prefers phantastic substitutes. Ultimately 
 and essentially we are, therefore, dealing with an internal 
 conflict, perhaps after the manner of those earlier con- 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 197 
 
 flicts which led to the two first unconscious creations. 
 We, therefore, are forced to conclude that the external 
 object cannot be loved, because a predominant amount 
 of libido prefers a phantastic object, which must be 
 brought up from the depths of the unconscious as a com- 
 pensation for the missing reality. 
 
 The visionary phenomena, produced in the first stages 
 of introversion, are grouped among the well-known phe- 
 nomena ^ of hypnagogic vision. They form, as I ex- 
 plained in an earlier paper, the foundation of the true 
 visions of the symbolic autorevelations of the libido, as 
 we may now express it. 
 
 Miss Miller continues: 
 
 " Then I had the impression that some communication was 
 immediately impending. It seemed to me as if there were re- 
 echoed in me the words, * Speak, O Lord, for Thy servant listens ; 
 open Thou mine ears! ' " 
 
 This passage very clearly describes the intention; the 
 expression " communication " is even a current term in 
 spiritualistic circles. The Biblical words contain a clear 
 invocation or " prayer," that is to say, a wish (libido) 
 directed towards divinity (the unconscious complex). 
 The prayer refers to Samuel, i: 3, where Samuel at night 
 was three times called by God, but believed that it was Eli 
 calling, until the latter informed him that it was God 
 himself who spoke, and that he must answer if his name 
 was called again — " Speak, O Lord, for Thy Servant 
 hears! " The dreamer uses these words really in an in- 
 verse sense, namely, in order to produce God with them. 
 
198 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 With that she directs her desires, her Hbido, into the 
 depths of her unconscious. 
 
 We know that, although individuals are widely sepa- 
 rated by the differences in the contents of their conscious- 
 ness, they are closely alike in their unconscious psy- 
 chology. It is a significant impression for one working in 
 practical psychoanalysis when he realizes how uniform 
 are the typical unconscious complexes. Difference first 
 arises from individualization. This fact gives to an es- 
 sential portion of the Schopenhauer and Hartmann 
 philosophies a deep psychologic justification.^ The very 
 evident uniformity of the unconscious mechanism serves 
 as a psychologic foundation for these philosophic views. 
 The unconscious contains the differentiated remnants of 
 the earlier psychologic functions overcome by the indi- 
 vidual differentiation. The reaction and products of the 
 animal psyche are of a generally diffused uniformity and 
 solidity, which, among men, may be discovered appar- 
 ently only in traces. Man appears as something extraordi- 
 narily individual in contrast with animals. 
 
 This might be a tremendous delusion, because we have 
 the appropriate tendency always to recognize only the 
 difference of things. This is demanded by the psycho- 
 logic adaptation which, without the most minute differ- 
 entiation of the impressions, would be absolutely impos- 
 sible. In opposition to this tendency we have ever the 
 greatest difficulty in recognizing in their common rela- 
 tions the things with which we are occupied in every- 
 day life. This recognition becomes much easier with 
 things which are more remote from us. For example, it 
 
i 
 
 THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 199 
 
 Is almost impossible for a European to differentiate the 
 faces In a Chinese throng, although the Chinese have just 
 as individual facial formations as the Europeans, but the 
 similarity of their strange facial expression Is much more 
 evident to the remote onlooker than their individual dif- 
 ferences. But when we live among the Chinese then the 
 Impression of their uniformity disappears more and 
 more, and finally the Chinese become individuals also. 
 Individuality belongs to those conditional actualities which 
 are greatly overrated theoretically on account of their 
 practical significance. It does not belong to those over- 
 whelmingly clear and therefore universally obtrusive gen- 
 eral facts upon which a science must primarily be founded. 
 The individual content of consciousness is, therefore, the 
 most unfavorable object imaginable for psychology, be- 
 cause It has veiled the universally valid until it has become 
 unrecognizable. The essence of consciousness Is the 
 process of adaptation which takes place In the most 
 minute details. On the other hand, the unconscious Is the 
 generally diffused, v/hich not only binds the Individuals 
 among themselves to the race, but also unites them back- 
 wards with the peoples of the past and their psychology. 
 Thus the unconscious, surpassing the Individual In Its 
 generality, Is, In the first place, the object of a true psy- 
 chology, which claims not to be psychophysical. 
 
 Man as an Individual Is a suspicious phenomenon, the 
 right of whose existence from a natural biological stand- 
 point could be seriously contested, because, from this 
 point of view, the individual Is only a race atom, and 
 has a significance only as a mass constituent. The ethical 
 
200 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 standpoint, however, gives to the human being an indi- 
 vidual tendency separating him from the mass, which, in 
 the course of centuries, led to the development of per- 
 sonality, hand in hand with which developed the hero 
 cult, and has led to the modern individualistic cult of 
 personages. The attempts of rationalistic theology to 
 keep hold of the personal Jesus as the last and most 
 precious remnant of the divinity which has vanished be- 
 yond the power of the imagination corresponds to this 
 tendency. In this respect the Roman Catholic Church 
 was more practical, because she met the general need of 
 the visible, or at least historically believed hero, through 
 the fact that she placed upon the throne of worship a 
 small but clearly perceptible god of the world, namely, 
 the Roman Pope, the Pater patrum, and at the same time 
 the Pontifex Maximus of the invisible upper or inner God. 
 The sensuous demonstrability of God naturally supports 
 the religious process of introversion, because the human 
 figure essentially facilitates the transference, for it is not 
 easy to imagine something lovable or venerable in a spir- 
 itual being. This tendency, everywhere present, has been 
 secretly preserved in the rationalistic theology with its 
 Jesus historically insisted upon. This does not mean that 
 men loved the visible God; they love him, not as he is, 
 for he is merely a man, and when the pious wished to 
 love humanity they could go to their neighbors and their 
 enemies to love them. Mankind wishes to love in God 
 only their ideas, that is to say, the ideas which they pro- 
 ject into God. By that they wish to love their unconscious, 
 that is, that remnant of ancient humanity and the cen- 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 201 
 
 turies-old past in all people, namely, the common property- 
 left behind from all development which is given to all 
 men, like the sunshine and the air. But in loving this 
 inheritance they love that which is common to all. Thus 
 they turn back to the mother of humanity, that is to say, 
 to the spirit of the race, and regain in this way some- 
 thing of that connection and of that mysterious and irre- 
 sistible power which is imparted by the feeling of belong- 
 ing to the herd. It is the problem of Antaeus, who 
 preserves his gigantic strength only through contact with 
 mother earth. This temporary withdrawal into one's self, 
 which, as we have already seen, signifies a regression to 
 the childish bond to the parent, seems to act favorably, 
 within certain limits, in its effect upon the psychologic 
 condition of the individual. It is in general to be ex- 
 pected that the two fundamental mechanisms of the psy- 
 choses, transference and introversion, are to a wide 
 extent extremely appropriate methods of normal reaction 
 against complexes; transference as a means of escaping 
 from the complex into reality; introversion as a means of 
 detaching one's self from reality through the complex. 
 
 After we have informed ourselves about the general 
 purposes of prayer, we are prepared to hear more about 
 the vision of our dreamer. After the prayer, " the head 
 of a sphinx with an Egyptian headdress " appeared, only 
 to vanish quickly. Here the author was disturbed, so 
 that for a moment she awoke. This vision recalls the 
 previously mentioned phantasy of the Egyptian statue, 
 whose rigid gesture is entirely in place here as a phe- 
 nomenon of the so-called functional category. The light 
 
202 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 stages of the hypnosis are designated technically as 
 " Engourdissement " (stiffening). The word Sphinx in 
 the whole civilized world signifies the same as riddle : a 
 puzzling creature who proposes riddles, like the Sphinx 
 of Oedipus, standing at the portal of his fate like a 
 symbolic proclamation of the inevitable. The Sphinx is 
 a semi-theriomorphic representation of that " mother 
 image " which may be designated as the " terrible 
 mother," of whom many traces are found in mythology. 
 This interpretation is correct for Oedipus. Here the 
 question is opened. The objection will be raised that 
 nothing except the word " Sphinx " justifies the allusion 
 to the Sphinx of Oedipus. On account of the lack of 
 subjective materials, which in the Miller text are wholly 
 lacking in regard to this vision, an individual inter- 
 pretation would also be excluded. The suggestion 
 of an "Egyptian" phantasy (Part I, Chapter II) is 
 entirely insuflScient to be employed here. Therefore we 
 are compelled, if we wish to venture at all upon an 
 understanding of this vision, to direct ourselves — perhaps 
 in all too daring a manner — to the available ethnographic 
 material under the assumption that the unconscious of the 
 present-day man coins its symbols as was done in the most 
 remote past. The Sphinx, in its traditional form, is a half- 
 human, half-animal creature, which we must, in part, 
 interpret in the way that is applicable to such phantastic 
 products. The reader is directed to the deductions in 
 the first part of this volume where the theriomorphic rep- 
 resentations of the libido were discussed. This manner 
 of representation is very familiar to the analyst, through 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 203 
 
 the dreams and phantasies of neurotics (and of normal 
 men). The impulse is readily represented as an animal, 
 as a bull, horse, dog, etc. One of my patients, who had 
 questionable relations with women, and who began the 
 treatment with the fear, so to speak, that I would surely 
 forbid him his sexual adventures, dreamed that I (his 
 physician) very skilfully speared to the wall a strange 
 animal, half pig, half crocodile. Dreams swarm with such 
 theriomorphic representations of the libido. Mixed 
 beings, such as are in this dream, are not rare. A series 
 of very beautiful Illustrations, where especially the lower 
 half of the animal was represented theriomorphlcally, 
 has been furnished by Bertschlnger.^" The libido which 
 was represented theriomorphlcally is the " animal " sex- 
 uality which Is In a repressed state. The history of re- 
 pression, as we have seen, goes back to the incest problem, 
 where the first motives for moral resistance against sexu- 
 ality display themselves. The objects of the repressed 
 libido are, in the last degree, the images of father and 
 mother; therefore the theriomorphic symbols, in so far 
 as they do not symbolize merely the libido In general, 
 have a tendency to present father and mother (for ex- 
 ample, father represented by a bull, mother by a cow). 
 From these roots, as we pointed out earlier, might prob- 
 ably arise the theriomorphic attributes of the Divinity. 
 In as far as the repressed libido manifests Itself under 
 certain conditions, as anxiety, these animals are generally 
 of a horrible nature. In consciousness we are attached 
 by all sacred bonds to the mother; In the dream she pur- 
 sues us as a terrible animal. The Sphinx, mythologlcally 
 
204 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 considered, is actually a fear animal, which reveals dis- 
 tinct traits of a mother derivate. In the Oedipus legend 
 the Sphinx is sent by Hera, who hates Thebes on account 
 of the birth of Bacchus; because Oedipus conquers the 
 Sphinx, which is nothing but fear of the mother, he must 
 marry Jocasta, his mother, for the throne and the hand 
 of the widowed queen of Thebes belonged to him who 
 freed the land from the plague of the Sphinx. The 
 genealogy of the Sphinx is rich in allusions to the problem 
 touched upon here. She is a daughter of Echnida, a mixed 
 being; a beautiful maiden above, a hideous serpent below. 
 This double creature corresponds to the picture of the 
 mother; above, the human, lovely and attractive half; 
 below, the horrible animal half, converted into a fear 
 animal through the incest prohibition. Echnida is de- 
 rived from the All-mother, the mother Earth, Gaea, who, 
 with Tartaros, the personified underworld (the place of 
 horrors), brought her forth. Echnida herself is the 
 mother of all terrors, of the Chimaera, Scylla, Gorgo, of 
 the horrible Cerberus, of the Nemean Lion, and of the 
 eagle who devoured the liver of Prometheus; besides this 
 she gave birth to a number of dragons. One of her sons 
 is Orthrus, the dog of the monstrous Geryon, who was 
 killed by Hercules. With this dog, her son, Echnida, in 
 incestuous intercourse, produced the Sphinx. These ma- 
 terials will suffice to characterize that amount of libido 
 which led to the Sphinx symbol. If, in spite of the lack 
 of subjective material, we may venture to draw an Infer- 
 ence from the Sphinx symbol of our author, we must say 
 that the Sphinx represents an original incestuous amount 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 205 
 
 of libido detached from the bond to the mother. Per- 
 haps it is better to postpone this conclusion until we have 
 examined the following visions. 
 
 After Miss Miller had concentrated herself again, the 
 vision developed further: 
 
 " Suddenly an Aztec appeared, absolutely clear in every detail; 
 the hands spread open, with large fingers, the head in profile, 
 armored, headdress similar to the feather ornaments of the Amer- 
 ican Indian. The whole was somewhat suggestive of Mexican 
 sculpture." 
 
 The ancient Egyptian character of the Sphinx is re- 
 placed here by American antiquity — by the Aztec. The 
 essential idea is neither Egypt nor Mexico, for the two 
 could not be interchanged; but it is the subjective factor 
 which the dreamer produces from her own past. I have 
 frequently observed in the analysis of Americans that 
 certain unconscious complexes, i.e. repressed sexuality, 
 are represented by the symbol of a Negro or an Indian; 
 for example, when a European tells in his dream, " Then 
 came a ragged, dirty Individual," for Americans and for 
 those who live in the tropics it is a Negro. When with 
 Europeans it is a vagabond or a criminal, with Americans 
 it is a Negro or an Indian which represents the indi- 
 vidual's own repressed sexual personality, and the one 
 considered inferior. It is also desirable to go into the 
 particulars of this vision, as there are various things 
 worthy of notice. The feather cap, which naturally had 
 to consist of eagles' feathers, is a sort of magic charm. 
 The hero assumes at the same time something of the sun- 
 like character of this bird when he adorns himself with 
 
2o6 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 its feathers, just as the courage and strength of the enemy 
 are appropriated in swallowing his heart or taking his 
 scalp. At the same time, the feather crest is a crown 
 which is equivalent to the rays of the sun. The historical 
 importance of the Sun identification has been seen in the 
 first part.^^ 
 
 Especial interest attaches to the hand, which is de- 
 scribed as " open," and the fingers, which are described 
 as " large." It is significant that it is the hand upon which 
 the distinct emphasis falls. One might rather have ex- 
 pected a description of the facial expression. It Is well 
 known that the gesture of the hand is significant; unfor- 
 tunately, we know nothing about that here. Nevertheless, 
 a parallel phantasy might be mentioned, which also puts 
 the emphasis upon hands. A patient In a hypnagogic 
 condition saw his mother painted on a wall, like a painting 
 in a Byzantine church. She held one hand up, open wide, 
 with fingers spread apart. The fingers were very large, 
 swollen Into knobs on the ends, and each surrounded by 
 a small halo. The immediate association with this pic- 
 ture was the fingers of a frog with sucking discs at the 
 ends. Then the similarity to the penis. The ancient set- 
 ting of this mother picture is also of importance. Evi- 
 dently the hand had, in this phantasy, a phallic meaning. 
 This interpretation was confirmed by a further very 
 remarkable phantasy of the same patient. He saw some- 
 thing like a " sky-rocket " ascending from his mother's 
 hand, which at a closer survey becomes a shining bird 
 with golden wings, a golden pheasant, as it then occurs 
 to his mind. We have seen in the previous chapter that 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS' ORIGIN OF THE HERO 207 
 
 the hand has actually a phallic, generative meaning, and 
 that this meaning plays a great part in the production 
 of fire. In connection with this phantasy, there is but one 
 observation to make: fire was bored with the hand; there- 
 fore it comes from the hand; Agni, the fire, was wor- 
 shipped as a golden-winged bird.^" It is extremely sig- 
 nificant that it is the mother's hand. I must deny myself 
 the temptation to enter more deeply into this. Let it be 
 sufficient to have pointed out the possible significance of 
 the hand of the Aztec by means of these parallel hand 
 phantasies. We have mentioned the mother suggestively 
 with the Sphinx. The Aztec taking the place of the 
 Sphinx points, through his suggestive hand, to parallel 
 phantasies in which the phallic hand really belongs to the 
 mother. Likewise we encounter an antique setting in 
 parallel phantasies. The significance of the antique, 
 which experience has shown to be the symbol for " infan- 
 tile," is confirmed by Miss Miller in this connection in the 
 annotation to her phantasies, for she says : 
 
 " In my childhood, I took a special interest in the Aztec frag- 
 ments and in the history of Peru and of the Incas." 
 
 Through the two analyses of children which have been 
 published we have attained an insight into the child's 
 small world, and have seen what burning interests and 
 questions secretly surround the parents, and that the par- 
 ents are, for a long time, the objects of the greatest in- 
 terest.^'' We are, therefore, justified in suspecting that 
 the antique setting applies to the " ancients," that is to 
 say, the parents, and that consequently this Aztec has 
 
2o8 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 something of the father or mother in himself. Up to this 
 time indirect hints point only to the mother, which is 
 nothing remarkable in an American girl, because Ameri- 
 cans, as a result of the extreme detachment from the 
 father, are characterized by a most enormous mother 
 complex, which again is connected with the especial social 
 position of woman in the United States. This position 
 brings about a special masculinity among capable women, 
 which easily makes possible the symbolizing into a mas- 
 culine figure." 
 
 After this vision. Miss Miller felt that a name formed 
 itself " bit by bit," which seemed to belong to this Aztec — 
 " the son of an Inca of Peru." The name is " Chi-wan- 
 to-pel." As the author intimated, something similar to 
 this belonged to her childish reminiscences. The act of 
 naming is, like baptism, something exceedingly important 
 for the creation of a personality, because, since olden 
 times, a magic power has been attributed to the name, 
 with which, for example, the spirit of the dead can be 
 conjured. To know the name of any one means, in 
 mythology, to have power over that one. As a well-known 
 example I mention the fairy tale of " Rumpelstilzchen." 
 In an Egyptian myth, Isis robs the Sun god Re perma- 
 nently of his power by compelling him to tell her his real 
 name. Therefore, to give a name means to give power, 
 invest with a definite personality.^^ The author observed, 
 in regard to the name itself, that it reminded her very 
 much of the impressive name Popocatepetl, a name which 
 belongs to unforgettable school memories, and, to the 
 greatest indignation of the patient, very often emerges 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 209 
 
 in an analysis in a dream or phantasy and brings with it 
 that same old joke which one heard in school, told one- 
 self and later again forgot. Although one might hesitate 
 to consider this unhallowed joke as of psychologic im- 
 portance, still one must inquire for the reason of its being. 
 One must also put, as a counter question, Why is it always 
 Popocatepetl and not the neighboring Iztaccihuatl, or 
 the even higher and just as clear Orizaba? The last has 
 certainly the more beautiful and more easily pronounced 
 name. Popocatepetl is impressive because of its onoma- 
 topoetic name. In English the word is " to pop " (pop- 
 gun), which is here considered as onomatopoesy; in Ger- 
 man the words are Hinterpommern, Pumpernickel; 
 Bombe; Petarde (le pet = flatus) . The frequent German 
 word Popo (Podex) does not indeed exist in English, 
 but flatus is designated as " to poop " in childish speech. 
 The act of defecation is often designated as " to pop." 
 A joking name for the posterior part is " the bum." 
 (Poop also means the rear end of a ship.) In French, 
 poiifl is onomatopoetic; poufer = platzen (to explode), 
 la poiipe = rear end of ship, le poupard = the baby in 
 arms, la poiipee = doll. Poiipon is a pet name for a 
 chubby-faced child. In Dutch pop, German Puppe and 
 Latin piippis = doll ; in Plautus, however, it is also used 
 jokingly for the posterior part of the body; pupus means 
 child; piipula = girl, little dollie. The Greek word 
 7ro7T7ivS,co designates a cracking, snapping or blowing 
 sound. It is used of kissing; by Theocritus also of the as- 
 sociated noise of flute blowing. The etymologic parallels 
 show a remarkable relationship between the part of the 
 
210 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 body In question and the child. This relationship we will 
 mention here, only to let it drop at once, as this question 
 will claim our attention later. 
 
 One of my patients in his childhood had always con- 
 nected the act of defecation with a phantasy that his pos- 
 terior was a volcano and a violent eruption took place, 
 explosion of gases and gushlngs forth of lava. The 
 terms for the elemental occurrences of nature are 
 originally not at all poetical; one thinks, for example, of 
 the beautiful phenomenon of the meteor, which the Ger- 
 man language most unpoetically calls " Sternschnuppe " 
 (the smouldering wick of a star). Certain South Ameri- 
 can Indians call the shooting star the " urine of the stars." 
 According to the principle of the least resistance, expres- 
 sions are taken from the nearest source available. (For 
 example, the transference of the metonymic expression 
 of urination as Schijfens, " to rain.") 
 
 Now it seems to be very obscure why the mystical 
 figure of Chlwantopel, whom Miss Miller, in a note, 
 compares to the control spirit of the spiritualistic me- 
 dium, ^^ is found in such a disreputable neighborhood that 
 his nature (name) was brought Into relation with this 
 particular part of the body. In order to understand this 
 possibility, we must realize that when we produce from 
 the unconscious the first to be brought forth is the infan- 
 tile material long lost in memory. One must, therefore, 
 take the point of view of that time in which this infantile 
 material was still on the surface. If now a much-honored 
 object is related in the unconscious to the anus, then one 
 must conclude that something of a high valuation was 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 211 
 
 expressed thereby. The question is only whether this 
 corresponds to the psychology of the child. Before we 
 enter upon this question, it must be stated that the anal 
 region is very closely connected with veneration. One 
 thinks of the traditional faeces of the Great Mogul. An 
 Oriental tale has the same to say of Christian knights, 
 who anointed themselves with the excrement of the pope 
 and cardinals in order to make themselves formidable. 
 A patient who is characterized by a special veneration 
 for her father had a phantasy that she saw her father 
 sitting upon the toilet in a dignified manner, and people 
 going past greeted him effusively.^^ The association of 
 the anal relations by no means excludes high valuation or 
 esteem, as is shown by these examples, and as is easily 
 seen from the intimate connection of faeces and gold.^^ 
 Here the most worthless comes into the closest relation 
 with the most valuable. This also happens in religious 
 valuations. I discovered (at that time to my great aston- 
 ishment) that a young patient, very religiously trained, 
 represented in a d/eam the Crucified on the bottom of a 
 blue-flowered chamber pot, namely, in the form of excre- 
 ments. The contrast is so enormous that one must assume 
 that the valuations of childhood must indeed be very 
 different from ours. This is actually the truth. Children 
 bring to the act of defecation and the products of this 
 an esteem and interest ^^ which later on is possible only 
 to the hypochondriac. We do not comprehend this in- 
 terest until we learn that the child very early connects 
 with it a theory of propagation.-" The libido afflux prob- 
 ably accounts for the enormous interest in this act. The 
 
212 THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 
 
 child sees that this is the way in which something is pro- 
 duced, in which something comes out. The same child 
 whom I reported in the little brochure " Uber Konflicte 
 der kindlichen Seele," and who had a well-developed anal 
 theory of birth, like little Hans, whom Freud made known 
 to us, later contracted a habit of staying a long time on 
 the toilet. Once the father grew impatient, went to the 
 toilet and called, " Do come out of there; what are you 
 making? " Whereupon the answer came from within, 
 " A little wagon and two ponies." The child was making 
 a little wagon and two ponies, that is to say, things which 
 at that time she especially wished for. In this way one 
 can make what one wishes, and the thing made is the 
 thing wished for. The child wishes earnestly for a doll 
 or, at heart, for a real child. (That is, the child prac- 
 tised for his future biological task, and in the way in 
 which everything in general is produced he made the 
 doll -^ himself as representative of the child or of the 
 thing wished for in general."') From a patient I have 
 learned a parallel phantasy of her childhood. In the 
 toilet there was a crevice in the wall. She phantasied that 
 from this crevice a fairy would come out and present 
 her with everything for which she wished. The " locus " 
 is known to be the place of dreams where much was 
 wished for and created which later would no longer be 
 suspected of having this place of origin. A pathological 
 phantasy in place here is told us by Lombroso,-^ concern- 
 ing two insane artists. Each of them considered himself 
 God and the ruler of the world. They created or pro- 
 duced the world by making it come forth from the rectum, 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 213 
 
 just as the egg of birds originates in the egg canal. One 
 of these two artists was endowed with a true artistic 
 sense. He painted a picture in which he was just in the 
 act of creation; the world came forth from his anus; the 
 membrum was in full erection; he was naked, surrounded 
 by women, and with all insignia of his power. The excre- 
 ment is in a certain sense the thing wished for, and on that 
 account it receives the corresponding valuation. When I 
 first understood this connection, an observation made 
 long ago, and which disturbed me greatly because I never 
 rightly understood it, became clear to me. It concerned 
 an educated patient who, under very tragic circumstances, 
 had to be separated from her husband and child, and was 
 brought into the insane asylum. She exhibited a typical 
 apathy and slovenliness which was considered as 
 affective mental deterioration. Even at that time I 
 doubted this deterioration, and was inclined to regard 
 it as a secondary adjustment. I took especial pains to 
 ascertain how I could discover the existence of the affect 
 in this case. Finally, after more than three hours' hard 
 work, I succeeded in finding a train of thought which sud- 
 denly brought the patient into a completely adequate and 
 therefore strongly emotional state. At this moment the 
 affective connection with her was completely reestab- 
 lished. That happened in the forenoon. When I re- 
 turned at the appointed time in the evening to the ward to 
 see her she had, for my reception, smeared herself from 
 head to foot with excrement, and cried laughingly, " Do I 
 please you so? " She had never done that before; it was 
 plainly destined for me. The impression which I received 
 
214 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 was one of a personal affront and, as a result of 
 this, I v/as convinced for years after of the affective de- 
 terioration of such cases. Now we understand this act 
 as an infantile ceremony of welcome or a declaration of 
 love. 
 
 The origin of Chiwantopel, that is to say, an uncon- 
 scious personality, therefore means, in the sense of the 
 previous explanation, " I make, produce, invent him my- 
 self." It is a sort of human creation or birth by the anal 
 route. The first people were made from excrement, pot- 
 ter's earth, or clay. The Latin lutum, which really means 
 " moistened earth," also has the transferred meaning of 
 dirt. In Plautus it is even a term of abuse, something 
 like " You scum." The birth from the anus also reminds 
 us of the motive of " throwing behind oneself." A well- 
 known example is the oracular command, which Deu- 
 calion and Pyrrha, who were the only survivors from the 
 great flood, received. They were to throw behind them 
 the bones of the great mother. They then threw behind 
 them stones, from which mankind sprang. According to 
 a tradition, the Dactyli in a similar manner sprang from 
 dust, which the nymph Anchiale threw behind her. There 
 is also humorous significance attached to the anal prod- 
 ucts. The excrements are often considered in popular 
 humor as a monument or memorial (which plays a special 
 part in regard to the criminal in the form of grumns 
 merda) ; every one knows the humorous story of the man 
 who, led by the spirit through labyrinthian passages to a 
 hidden treasure, after he had shed all his pieces of cloth- 
 ing, deposited excrement as a last guide post on his road. 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 215 
 
 In a more distant past a sign of this kind possessed as 
 great a significance as the dung of animals to indicate 
 the direction taken. Simple monuments ("little stone 
 figures ") have taken the place of this perishable mark. 
 
 It is noteworthy that Miss Miller quotes another case, 
 where a name suddenly obtruded itself, parallel to the 
 emerging into consciousness of Chiwantopel, namely, A-ha- 
 ma-ra-ma, with the feeling that it dealt with something 
 Assyrian.-* As a possible source of this, there occurred 
 to her " Asurabama, who made cuneiform bricks," ^^ 
 those imperishable documents made from clay: the monu- 
 ments of the most ancient history. If it were not empha- 
 sized that the bricks are " cuneiform," then it might mean 
 ambiguously " wedged-shaped bricks," which is more 
 suggestive of our interpretation than that of the 
 author. 
 
 Miss Miller remarks that besides the name " Asura- 
 bama " she also thought of " Ahasuerus " or " Ahasve- 
 rus." This phantasy leads to a very different aspect of 
 the problem of the unconscious personality. While the 
 previous materials betrayed to us something of the infan- 
 tile theory of creation, this phantasy opens up a vista into 
 the dynamics of the unconscious creation of personality. 
 Ahasver is, as is well known, the Wandering Jew; he is 
 characterized by endless and restless wanderings until the 
 end of the world. The fact that the author has thought 
 of this particular name justifies us in following this trail. 
 The legend of Ahasver, the first literary traces of which 
 belong to the thirteenth century, seems to be of Occidental 
 origin, and belongs to those ideas which possess inde- 
 
2i6 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 structlble vital energy. The figure of the Wandering Jew 
 has undergone more literary elaboration than the figure 
 of Faust, and nearly all of this work belongs to the last 
 century. If the figure is not called Ahasver, still it is there 
 under another name, perhaps as Count of St. Germain, 
 the mysterious Rosicrucian, whose immortality was as- 
 sured, and whose temporary residence (the land) was 
 equally known.^^ Although the stories about Ahasver 
 cannot be traced back any earlier than the thirteenth cen- 
 tury, the oral tradition can reach back considerably 
 further, and it is not an impossibility that a bridge to the 
 Orient exists. There is the parallel figure of Chidr, or 
 " al Chadir," the " ever-youthful Chidher " celebrated in 
 song by Rueckert. The legend is purely Islamitic. The 
 peculiar feature, however, is that Chidher is not only a 
 saint, but in Sufic circles " rises even to divine significance. 
 In view of the severe monotheism of Islam, one is in- 
 clined to think of Chidher as a pre-Islamitic Arabian 
 divinity who would hardly be officially recognized by the 
 new religion, but might have been tolerated on political 
 grounds. But there is nothing to prove that. The first 
 traces of Chidher are found in the commentaries of the 
 Koran, Buchari and Tabare and in a commentary to a 
 noteworthy passage of the eighteenth sura of the Koran. 
 The eighteenth sura is entitled " the cave," that is, after 
 the cave of the seven sleepers, who, according to the 
 legend, slept there for 309 years, and thus escaped perse- 
 cution, and awoke in a new era. Their legend is re- 
 counted in the eighteenth sura, and divers reflections were 
 associated with it. The wish-fulfilment idea of the legend 
 
 I 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO tl^ 
 
 is very clear. The mystic material for it is the immutable 
 model of the Sun's course. The Sun sets periodically, 
 but does not die. It hides in the womb of the sea or in a 
 subterranean cave,-^ and in the morning is " born again," 
 complete. The language in which this astronomic occur- 
 rence is clothed is one of clear symbolism; the Sun returns 
 into the mother's womb, and after some time is again 
 born. Of course, this event is properly an incestuous 
 act, of which, in mythology, clear traces are still re- 
 tained, not the least of which is the circumstance that the 
 dying and resurrected gods are the lovers of their own 
 mothers or have generated themselves through their own 
 mothers. Christ as the " God becoming flesh " has gen- 
 erated himself through Mary; Mithra has done the 
 same. These Gods are unmistakable Sun-gods, for the 
 Sun also does this, in order to again renew himself. 
 Naturally, it is not to be assumed that astronomy came 
 first and these conceptions of gods afterwards; the process 
 was, as always, inverted, and it is even true that primitive 
 magic charms of rebirth, baptism, superstitious usages 
 of all sorts, concerning the cure of the sick, etc., were 
 projected into the heavens. These youths were born 
 from the cave (the womb of mother earth), like the Sun- 
 gods, in a new era, and this was the way they vanquished 
 death. In this far they were immortal. It is now inter- 
 esting to see how the Koran comes, after long ethical 
 contemplations in the course of the same sura, to the fol- 
 lowing passage, which is of especial significance for the 
 origin of the Chidher myth. For this reason I quote 
 *Jie Koran literally: 
 
2i8 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 " Remember when Moses said to his servant, ' I will not stop 
 till I reach the confluence of the two seas, or for eighty years will 
 I journey on.' 
 
 " But when they reached their confluence they forgot their 
 fish, and it took its way in the sea at will. 
 
 " And when they had passed on, Moses said to his servant, 
 * Bring us our morning meal, for now we have incurred weariness 
 from this our journey.' 
 
 " He said, ' What thinkest thou ? When we repaired to the 
 rock for rest, then verily I forgot the fish; and none but Satan 
 made me forget it, so as not to mention it; and it hath taken its 
 way in the sea in a wondrous sort.' 
 
 " He said, ' It is this we were in quest of.' So they both went 
 back retracing their footsteps. 
 
 " Then found they one of our servants to whom we had vouch- 
 safed our mercy, and whom we had instructed with our' knowl- 
 
 1 28 
 
 edge ; 
 
 " Moses said to him, ' Shall I follow thee that thou teach me, 
 for guidance of that which thou hast been taught ? ' 
 
 " He said, ' Verily, thou canst by no means have patience with 
 me ; and how canst thou be patient in matters whose meaning thou 
 comprehendest not?'" — Trans. Rodwell, page i88. 
 
 Moses now accompanies the mysterious servant of God, 
 who does divers things which Moses cannot comprehend; 
 finally, the Unknown takes leave of Moses, and speaks to 
 him as follows: 
 
 "They will ask thee of Dhoulkarnein (the two-horned ).°"' 
 Say : * I will recite to you an account of him.' 
 
 " Verily, we established his power upon the earth and we gave 
 him a means to accomplish every end, so he followed his way; 
 
 " Until when he reached the setting of the sun, he found it 
 to set in a miry forest; and hard by, he found a people. . . ." 
 
 Now follows a moral reflection ; then the narrative con- 
 tinues : 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 219 
 
 " Then he followed his course further until he came to the place 
 where the sun rises. . . ." 
 
 If now we wish to know who is the unknown servant 
 of God, we are told in this passage he is Dhulqarnein, 
 Alexander, the Sun; he goes to the place of setting and 
 he goes to the place of rising. The passage about the 
 unknown servant of God is explained by the commentaries 
 in a well-defined legend. The servant is Chidher, " the 
 verdant one," the never-tiring wanderer, who roams for 
 hundreds and thousands of years over lands and seas, the 
 teacher and counsellor of pious men; the one wise in 
 divine knowledge — the immortal.''^ The authority of the 
 Tabari associates Chidher with Dhulqarnein; Chidher is 
 said to have reached the " stream of life " as a follower 
 of Alexander, and both unwittingly had drunk of it, so 
 that they became immortal. Moreover, Chidher is iden- 
 tified by the old commentators with Elias, who also did 
 not die, but who was taken to Heaven in a fiery chariot. 
 Elias is Helios:'- It is to be observed that Ahasver also 
 owes his existence to an obscure place in the holy Christian 
 scriptures. This place is to be found in Matthew xvi : 28. 
 First comes the scene where Christ appoints Peter as the 
 rock of his church, and nominates him the governor of 
 his power."^ After that follows the prophecy of his 
 death, and then comes the passage : 
 
 " Verily, I say unto you, there be some standing here, which 
 shall not taste of death till they see the Son of Man coming in his 
 kingdom." 
 
 Here follows the scene of the transfiguration: 
 
220 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 " And was transfigured before them : and his face did shine 
 as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light. 
 
 " And behold there appeared unto them Moses and Elias talk- 
 ing with him. 
 
 " Then answered Peter and said unto Jesus, * Lord, it is good 
 for us to be here ; if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles ; 
 one for thee and one for Moses and one for Elias.' " ^* 
 
 From these passages it appears that Christ stands on 
 the same plane as Elias, without being identified with 
 him,'^ although the people consider him as Elias. The 
 ascension places Christ as identical with Elias. The 
 prophecy of Christ shows that there exist aside from 
 himself one or more immortals who shall not die until 
 Parousai. According to John xxi :22nd verse, the boy 
 John was considered as one of these immortals, and in 
 the legend he is, in fact, not dead but merely sleeping 
 in the ground until Parousai, and breathes so that the 
 dust swirls round his grave. ^"^ As is evident, there are 
 passable bridges from Christ by way of Elias to Chidher 
 and Ahasuerus. It is said in an account of this legend " 
 that Dhulqarnein led his friend Chidher to the " source 
 of life " in order to have him drink of immortality.^^ 
 Alexander also bathed in the stream of life and per- 
 formed the ritual ablutions. As I previously mentioned in 
 a footnote, according to Matthew xvii: 12th verse, John 
 the Baptist Is Elias, therefore primarily identical with 
 Chidher. Now, however, it is to be noted that in the 
 Arabian legend Chidher appears rather as a companion 
 or accompanied (Chidher with Dhulqarnein or with Ellas, 
 " like unto them " ; or identified with them ^^) . There are 
 therefore, two similar figures who resemble each other, 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 221 
 
 but who, nevertheless, are distinct. The analogous situ- 
 ation in the Christian legend is found in the scene by 
 the Jordan where John leads Christ to the " source of 
 life." Christ is there, the subordinate, John the superior, 
 similar to Dhulqarnein and Chidher, or Chidher and 
 Moses, also Elias. The latter relation especially is such 
 that VoUers compares Chidher and Elias, on the one 
 side, with Gilgamesh and his mortal brother Eabani; 
 on the other side, with the Dioscuri, one of whom is im- 
 mortal, the other mortal. This relation is also found in 
 Christ and John the Baptist,*" on the one hand, and Christ 
 and Peter, on the other. The last-named parallel only 
 finds its explanation through comparison with the Mith- 
 raic mysteries, where the esoteric contents are revealed 
 to us through monuments. Upon the MIthraic marble 
 relief of Klagenfurt*^ it is represented how with a halo 
 Mithra crowns Helios, who either kneels before him or 
 else floats up to him from below. Mithra is represented 
 on a Mithraic monument of Osterburken as holding in 
 his right hand the shoulder of the mystic ox above Helios, 
 who stands bowed down before him, the left hand rest- 
 ing on a sword hilt. A crown lies between them on the 
 ground. Cumont observes about this scene that it prob- 
 ably represents the divine prototype of the ceremony of 
 the initiation into the degree of Miles, in which a sword 
 and a crown were conferred upon the mystic. Helios is, 
 therefore, appointed the Miles of Mithra. In a general 
 way, Mithra seems to occupy the role of patron to Helios, 
 which reminds us of the boldness of Hercules towards 
 Helios. Upon his journey towards Geryon, Helios burns 
 
222 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 too hotly; Hercules, full of anger, threatens him with his 
 never-failing arrows. Therefore, Helios is compelled to 
 yield, and lends to the hero his Sun ship, with which he 
 was accustomed to journey across the sea. Thus Hercules 
 returns to Erythia, to the cattle herds of Geryon.*- On 
 the monument at Klagenfurt, Mithra is furthermore rep- 
 resented pressing Helios's hand, either in farewell or as 
 a ratification. In a further scene Mithra mounts the 
 Chariot of Helios, either for the ascension or the " Sea 
 Journey." ^" Cumont is of the opinion that Mithra gives 
 to Helios a sort of ceremonious investiture and conse- 
 crates him with his divine power by crowning him with 
 his own hands. This relation corresponds to that of 
 Christ to Peter. Peter, through his symbol, the cock, has 
 the character of a sun-god. After the ascension (or 
 sea journey) of Christ, he is the visible pontiff of the 
 divinity; he suffers, therefore, the same death (cruci- 
 fixion) as Christ, and becomes the great Roman 
 deity {Sol invicttts), the conquering, triumphant Church 
 itself, embodied in the Pope. In the scene of Malchus 
 he is always shown as the miles of Christ, to whom the 
 sword is granted, and as the rock upon which the Church 
 is founded. The crown ** is also given to him who pos- 
 sesses the power to bind and to set free. Thus, Christ, 
 like the Sun, is the visible God, whereas the Pope, like 
 the heir of the Roman Caesars, is soils invicti comes. 
 The setting sun appoints a successor whom he invests 
 with the power of the sun.^^ Dhulqarnein gives Chidher 
 eternal life. Chidher communicates his wisdom to 
 Moses."*^ There even exists a report according to which 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 223 
 
 the forgetful servant of Joshua drinks from the well of 
 life, whereupon he becomes immortal, and is placed in a 
 ship by Chidher and Moses, as a punishment, and is cast 
 out to sea, once more a fragment of a sun myth, the 
 motive of the " sea journey." *^ 
 
 The primitive symbol, which designates that portion 
 of the Zodiac in which the Sun, with the Winter Solstice, 
 again enters upon the yearly course, is the goat, fish sign, 
 the aiycojiepco?. The Sun mounts like a goat to the 
 highest mountain, and later goes into the water as a fish. 
 The fish is the symbol of the child,*® for the child before 
 his birth lives in the water like a fish, and the Sun, because 
 it plunges into the sea, becomes equally child and fish. 
 The fish, however, is also a phallic symbol,*'^ also a sym- 
 bol for the woman. ^^ Briefly stated, the fish is a libido 
 symbol, and, indeed, as it seems predominately for the 
 renewal of the libido. 
 
 The journey of Moses with his servant is a life-journey 
 (eighty years). They grow old and lose their life force 
 (libido), that is, they lose the fish which "pursues its 
 course in a marvellous manner to the sea," which means 
 the setting of the sun. When the two notice their loss, 
 they discover at the place where the " source of life " is 
 found (where the dead fish revived and sprang into the 
 sea) Chidher wrapped in his mantle, ^^ sitting on the 
 ground. According to another version, he sat on an 
 island in the sea, or " in the wettest place on earth," that 
 is, he was just born from the maternal depths. Where 
 the fish vanished Chidher, " the verdant one," was born 
 as a " son of the deep waters," his head veiled, a Cabir, 
 
224 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 a proclaimer of divine wisdom; the old Babylonian 
 Oannes-Ea, who was represented in the form of a fish, 
 and daily came from the sea as a fish to teach the people 
 wisdom. ^^ His name was brought into connection with 
 John's. With the rising of the renewed sun all that lived 
 in darkness, as water-animal or fish, surrounded by all 
 terrors of night and death, ^'^ became as the shining fiery 
 firmament of the day. Thus the words of John the Bap- 
 tist ^* gain especial meaning: 
 
 " I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance, but he that 
 Cometh after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy 
 to bear; he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire." 
 
 With Vollers we may also compare Chidher and Elias 
 (Moses and his servant Joshua) with Gilgamesh and 
 his brother Eabani. Gilgamesh wandered through the 
 world, driven by anxiety and longing, to find immortality. 
 His path led him across the seas to the wise Utnapishtim 
 (Noah), who knew how to cross the waters of death. 
 There Gilgamesh had to dive down to the bottom of the 
 sea for the magical herb which was to lead him back to 
 the land of men. When he had come again to his native 
 land a serpent stole the magic plant from him (the fish 
 again slid into the sea). But on the return from the 
 land of the blessed an immortal mariner accompanied 
 him, who, banished by a curse of Utnapishtim, was for- 
 bidden to return to the land of the blessed. Gilgamesh's 
 journey had lost its purpose on account of the loss of the 
 magic herb; instead he is accompanied by an immortal, 
 whose fate, indeed, we cannot learn from the fragments 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 225 
 
 of the epic. This banished immortal is the model for 
 Ahasver, as Jensen ^^ aptly remarked. 
 
 Again we encounter the motive of the Dioscuri, mortal 
 and immortal, setting and rising sun. This motive is also 
 represented as if projected from the hero. 
 
 The Sacrificium Mithriacum (the sacrifice of the bull) 
 is in its religious representation very often flanked by 
 the two Dadophores, Cautes and Cautopates, one with 
 a raised and the other with a lowered torch. They repre- 
 sent brothers who reveal their character through the sym- 
 bolic position of the torch. Cumont connects them, not 
 without meaning, with the sepulchral " erotes " who as 
 genii with the reversed torches have traditional meaning. 
 The one is supposed to stand for death and the other for 
 life. I cannot refrain from mentioning the similarity be- 
 tween the Sacrificium Mithriacum (where the sacrificed 
 bull in the centre is flanked on both sides by Dadophores) 
 to the Christian sacrifice of the lamb (ram). The 
 Crucified is also traditionally flanked by the two thieves, 
 one of whom ascends to Paradise, while the other de- 
 scends to Hell.^^ The idea of the mortal and the im- 
 mortal seems to have passed also into the Christian 
 worship. Semitic gods are often represented as flanked 
 by two Paredroi; for example, Baal of Edessa, accom- 
 panied by Aziz and Monimoz (Baal as the Sun, accom- 
 panied by Mars and Mercury, as expressed in astro- 
 nomical teachings). According to the Chaldean view, 
 the gods are grouped into triads. In this circle of ideas 
 belongs also the Trinity, the idea of the triune God, in 
 which Christ must be considered in his unity with the 
 
226 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Father and the Holy Ghost. So, too, do the two thieves 
 belong Inwardly to Christ. The two Dadophores are, as 
 Cumont points out, nothing but offshoots ^^ from the chief 
 figure of Mithra, to whom belongs a mysterious three- 
 fold character. According to an account of Dionysus 
 Areopagita, the magicians celebrated a festival, "tov 
 tpinXaaiov MWpov." * ^* An observation likewise refer- 
 ring to the Trinity is made by Plutarch concerning Or- 
 muzd : rpl? eavrov avStjo'cv? aTreGTjjGs tov t/Xiov.f The 
 Trinity, as three different states of the unity, is also a 
 Christian thought. In the very first place this suggests 
 a sun myth. An observation by Macrobius i : i8 seems to 
 lend support to this idea : 
 
 " Hse autem aetatum diversitates ad solem referuntur, ut par- 
 vulus videatur hiemali solstitio, qualem Aegyptii proferunt ex 
 adyto die certa, . . . aequinoctio vernali figura iuvenis ornatur. 
 Postea statuitur setas ejus plenissima effigie barbae solstitio aestivo 
 . . . exunde per diminutiones veluti senescent! quarta forma deus 
 figuratur." % " 
 
 As Cumont observes, Cautes and Cautapates occasion- 
 ally carry in their hands the head of a bull, and a scor- 
 pion."" Taurus and Scorpio are equinoctial signs, which 
 clearly indicate that the sacrificial scene refers primarily 
 to the Sun cycle; the rising Sun, which sacrifices itself at 
 
 *0f the threefold Mithra. 
 
 t Having expanded himself threefold, he departed from the sun. 
 
 t Now these differences in the seasons refer to the Sun, which seems at 
 the winter solstice an infant, such as the Egyptians on a certain day bring 
 out of their sanctuaries; at the vernal equinox it is represented as a youth. 
 Later, at the summer solstice, its age is represented by a full growth of 
 beard, while at the last, the god is represented by the gradually diminish- 
 ing form of an old man. 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 227 
 
 the summer solstice, and the setting Sun. In the sacri- 
 ficial scene the symbol of the rising and setting Sun was 
 not easily represented; therefore, this idea was removed 
 from the sacrificial image. 
 
 We have pointed out above that the Dioscuri represent 
 a similar idea, although in a somewhat different form; 
 the one sun is always mortal, the other immortal. As 
 this entire sun mythology is merely a psychologic pro- 
 jection to the heavens, the fundamental thesis probably is 
 as follows; just as man consists of a mortal and immortal 
 part, so the sun is a pair of brothers, "^^ one being mortal, 
 the other immortal. This thought lies at the basis of all 
 theology in general. Man is, indeed, mortal, but there 
 are some who are immortal, or there is something in us 
 which is immortal. Thus the gods, " a Chldher or a St. 
 Germain," are our immortal part, which, though incom- 
 prehensible, dwells among us somewhere. 
 
 Comparison with the sun teaches us over and over 
 again that the gods are libido. It is that part of us 
 which is immortal, since it represents that bond through 
 which we feel that in the race we are never extinguished.*^^ 
 It is life from the life of mankind. Its springs, which well 
 up from the depths of the unconscious, come, as does our 
 life in general, from the root of the whole of humanity, 
 since we are indeed only a twig brol^en off from the 
 mother and transplanted. 
 
 Since the divine in us is the libido, ^^ we must not won- 
 der that we have taken along with us in our theology 
 ancient representations from olden times, which give the 
 triune figure to the God. We have taken this rpinXaaiov 
 
228 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 6s6v* from the phallic symbolism, the originality of 
 which may well be uncontested/* The male genitals are 
 the basis for this Trinity. It is an anatomical fact that 
 one testicle is generally placed somewhat higher than 
 the other, and it is also a very old, but, nevertheless, 
 still surviving, superstition that one testicle generates a 
 boy and the other a girl.*'^ A late Babylonian bas-relief 
 from Lajard's ^^ collection seems to be in accordance with 
 this view. In the middle of the image stands an androgy- 
 nous god (masculine and feminine face*^^); upon the 
 right, male side, is found a serpent, with a sun halo round 
 its head; upon the left, female side, there is also a ser- 
 pent, with the moon above its head. Above the head of 
 the god there are three stars. This ensemble would seem 
 to confirm the Trinity "^^ of the representation. The Sun 
 serpent at the right side is male; the serpent at the left 
 side is female (signified by the moon). This image pos- 
 sesses a symbolic sexual suffix, which makes the sexual 
 significance of the whole obtrusive. Upon the male side 
 a rhomb is found — a favorite symbol of the female geni- 
 tals; upon the female side there is a wheel or felly. A 
 wheel always refers to the Sun, but the spokes are thick- 
 ened and enlarged at the ends, which suggests phaUic 
 symbolism. It seems to be a phallic wheel, which was 
 not unknown in antiquity. There are obscene bas-reliefs 
 where Cupid turns a wheel of nothing but phalli.*^® It is 
 not only the serpent which suggests the phallic significance 
 of the Sun; I quote one especially marked case, from an 
 abundance of proof. In the antique collection at Verona 
 
 * Threefold God. 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 229 
 
 I discovered a late Roman mystic inscription in which are 
 the following representations : 
 
 ■. ! / 
 
 — Oc- 
 
 These symbols are easily read: Sun — Phallus, Moon — 
 Vagina (Uterus). This interpretation is confirmed by 
 another figure of the same collection. There the same 
 representation is found, only the vessel ^° is replaced by 
 the figure of a woman. The impressions on coins, where 
 in the middle a palm is seen encoiled by a snake, flanked 
 by two stones (testicles), or else in the middle a stone 
 encircled by a snake; to the right a palm, to the left a 
 shell (female genitals ^^), should be interpreted in a 
 similar manner. In Lajard's " Researches " (" The Cult 
 of Venus ") there is a coin of Perga, where Artemis of 
 Perga is represented by a conical stone (phallic) flanked 
 by a man (claimed to be Men) and by a female figure 
 (claimed to be Artemis). Men (the so-called Lunus) is 
 found upon an Attic bas-relief apparently with the spear 
 but fundamentally a sceptre with a phallic significance, 
 flanked by Pan with a club (phallus) and a female 
 figure.''^ The traditional representation of the Crucified 
 flanked by John and Mary is closely associated with this 
 circle of ideas, precisely as is the Crucified with the 
 thieves. From this we see how, beside the Sun, there 
 emerges again and again the much more primitive com- 
 
230 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 parison of the libido with the phallus. An especial trace 
 still deserves mention here. The Dadophor Cautapates, 
 who represents Mithra, is also represented with the cock "^ 
 and the pineapple. But these are the attributes of the 
 Phrygian god Men, whose cult was widely diffused. Men 
 was represented with Pileus/* the pineapple and the cock, 
 also in the form of a boy, just as the Dadophores are 
 boyish figures. (This last-named property relates them 
 with Men to the Cabiri.) Men has a very close connec- 
 tion with Attis, the son and lover of Cybele. In the time 
 of the Roman Caesars, Men and Attis were entirely iden- 
 tified, as stated above. Attis also wears the Pileus like 
 Men, Mithra and the Dadophores. As the son and lover 
 of his mother he again leads us to the source of this 
 religion-creating incest libido, namely, to the mother. 
 Incest leads logically to ceremonial castration In the 
 Attic-Cybele cult, for the Hero, driven insane by his 
 mother, mutilates himself."^^ I must at present forego 
 entering more deeply into this matter, because the incest 
 problem is to be discussed at the close. Let this sugges- 
 tion suffice — that from different directions the analysis 
 of the libido symbolism always leads back again to the 
 mother incest. Therefore, we may surmise that the long- 
 ing of the libido raised to God (repressed into the un- 
 conscious) is a primitive, incestuous one which concerns 
 the mother. Through renouncing the virility to the first 
 beloved, the mother, the feminine element becomes ex- 
 tremely predominant; hence the strongly androgynous 
 character of the dying and resurrected Redeemer. That 
 these heroes are nearly always wanderers ''^ is a psycho- 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS ORIGIN OF THE HERO 231 
 
 logically clear symbolism. The wandering is a repre- 
 sentation of longing,'^ of the ever-restless desire, which 
 nowhere finds its object, for, unknown to itself, it seeks 
 the lost mother. The wandering association renders the 
 Sun comparison easily intelligible; also, under this aspect, 
 the heroes always resemble the wandering Sun, which 
 seems to justify the fact that the myth of the hero is a 
 sun myth. Bu^the myth of the hero, however, is, as it 
 appears to me, the myth of our own suffering uncon- 
 scious, which has an unquenchable longing for all the 
 deepest sources of our own beingV for the body of the 
 mother, and through it for comrjiunion with infinite life 
 in the countless forms of existence. Here I must intro- 
 duce the words of the Master who has divined the deep- 
 est roots of Faustian longings : 
 
 " Unwilling, I reveal a loftier mystery. — 
 In solitude are throned the Goddesses, 
 No Space around them, Place and Time still less: 
 Only to speak of them embarrasses. 
 They are THE MOTHERS! 
 
 " Goddesses unknown to ye, 
 The Mortals, — named by us unwillingly. 
 Delve in the deepest depths must thou to reach them: 
 'Tis thine own fault that we for help beseech them. 
 
 " Where is the way? 
 
 "No way! To the Unreachable, 
 Ne'er to be trodden! A way to the Unbeseechable, 
 Never to be besought ! Art thou prepared ? 
 There are no locks, no latches to be lifted! 
 Through endless solitudes shalt thou be drifted! 
 Hast thou through solitudes and deserts dared? 
 
232 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 And hadst thou swum to farthest verge of ocean 
 And there the boundless space beheld, 
 Still hadst thou seen wave after wave in motion, 
 Even though impending doom thy fear compelled. 
 Thou hadst seen something — in the beryl dim 
 Of peace-lulled seas, the sportive dolphins swim ; 
 Hadst seen the flying clouds, sun, moon and star; 
 Nought shalt thou see in endless Void afar — 
 Not hear thy footstep fall, nor meet 
 A stable spot to rest thy feet. 
 
 " Here, take this key! 
 The Key will scent the true place from all others; 
 Follow it down ! 'Twill lead thee to the Mothers. 
 
 " Descend then ! I could also say : Ascend ! 
 'Twere all the same. Escape from the Created 
 To shapeless forms in liberated spaces! 
 Enjoy what long ere this was dissipated! 
 There whirls the press, like clouds on clouds unfolding; 
 Then with stretched arm swing high the key thou'rt holding! 
 
 " At last a blazing tripod, ^^ tells thee this. 
 That there the utterly deepest bottom is. 
 Its light to thee will then the Mothers show. 
 Some in their seats, the others stand or go. 
 At their own will: Formation, Transformation, 
 The Eternal Mind's eternal recreation. 
 Forms of all Creatures, — there are floating free. 
 They'll see thee not! for oftly wraiths they see. 
 So pluck up heart, — the danger then is great. 
 Go to the tripod ere thou hesitate, 
 And touch it with the key." 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER AND OF 
 REBIRTH 
 
 The vision following the creation of the hero is de- 
 scribed by Miss Miller as a " throng of people." This 
 representation is known to us from dream interpretation 
 as being, above all, the symbol of mystery.^ Freud 
 thinks that this choice of symbol is determined on ac- 
 count of its possibility of representing the idea. The 
 bearer of the mystery is placed in opposition to the multi- 
 tude of the ignorant. The possession of the mystery cuts 
 one of from intercourse with the rest of mankind. For 
 a very complete and smooth rapport with the surround- 
 ings is of great importance for the management of tH'e->v.^^^ 
 libido and the possession of a subjectively important y/f^ 
 secret generally creates a great disturbance. It may be '^L 
 
 said that the whole art of life shrinks to the one problem Y 
 
 of how the libido may be freed in the most harmless way 
 possible. Therefore, the neurotic derives special benefit 
 in treatment when he can at last rid himself of his various 
 secrets. The symbol of the crowd of people, chiefly the 
 streaming and moving mass, is, as I have often seen, 
 substituted for the great excitement in the unconscious, 
 especially in persons who are outwardly calm. 
 
 233 
 
234 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 The vision of the "throng" develops further; horses 
 emerge; a battle is fought. With Silberer, I might accept 
 the significance of this vision as belonging, first of all, in 
 the " functional category," because, fundamentally, the 
 conception of the intermingling crowds is nothing but the 
 symbol of the present onrush of the mass of thought; 
 likewise the battle, and possibly the horses, which illus- 
 trate the movement. The deeper significance of the ap- 
 pearance of the horses will be seen for the first time in 
 the further course of our treatment of the mother sym- 
 bolism. The following vision has a more definite and 
 significantly important character. Miss Miller sees a 
 City of Dreams ("Cite de Reves"). The picture is 
 similar to one she saw a short time before on the cover 
 of a magazine. Unfortunately, we learn nothing further 
 about it. One can easily imagine under this " Cite de 
 Reves " a fulfilled wish dream, that is to say, something 
 very beautiful and greatly longed for; a sort of heavenly 
 Jerusalem, as the poet of the Apocalypse has dreamed it. 
 The city is a maternal symbol, a woman who fosters the 
 inhabitants as children. It is, therefore, intelligible that 
 the two mother goddesses, Rhea and Cybele, both 
 wear the wall crown. The Old Testament treats the 
 cities of Jerusalem, Babel, etc., as women (Isaiah 
 xlvii: 1-5) : 
 
 " Come down and sit in the dust, O virgin daughter of Babylon, 
 sit on the ground: there fs no throne, O daughter of the Chal- 
 deans ; for thou shalt no more be called tender and delicate. Take 
 the millstones and grind meal; uncover thy locks, make bare the 
 leg, uncover the thigh, pass over the rivers. That thy nakedness 
 
 I 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 235 
 
 shall be uncovered, yea, thy shame shall be seen; sit thou silent, 
 and get thee into darkness, O daughter of the Chaldeans; for 
 thou shalt no more be called the lady of the kingdoms." 
 
 Jeremiah says of Babel (I: 12) : 
 
 " Your mother shall be sore confounded ; she that bare you shall 
 be ashamed." 
 
 Strong, unconquered cities are virgins; colonies are 
 sons and daughters. Cities are also whores. Isaiah says 
 of Tyre (xxiii : 16) : 
 
 " Take an harp, go about the city, thou harlot; thou hast been 
 forgotten." 
 
 And: 
 
 " How does it come to pass that the virtuous city has become 
 
 an harlot? " 
 
 We come across a similar symbolism in the myth of 
 Ogyges, the mythical king who rules in Egyptian Thebes 
 and whose wife was appropriately named Thebe. The 
 Boeotian Thebes founded by Cadmus received on that 
 account a surname, " Ogygian." This surname was also 
 given to the great flood, as it was called " Ogygian " be- 
 cause it occurred under Ogyges. This coincidence will be 
 found later on to be hardly accidental. The fact that 
 the city and the wife of Ogyges bear the same name indi- 
 cates that somewhere a relation must exist between the 
 city and the woman, which is not difficult to understand, 
 for the city is identical with the woman. We meet a 
 similar idea in Hindoo lore where Indra appears as the 
 
236 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 husband of Urvara, but Urvara means- " the fertile 
 land." In a similar way the occupancy of a country by 
 the king was understood as marriage with the ploughed 
 land. Similar representations must have prevailed in 
 Europe as well. Princes had to guarantee, for example, 
 a good harvest at their accession. The Swedish King 
 Domaldi was actually killed on account of the failure of 
 the harvest (Ynghnga saga i8). In the Rama saga the 
 hero Rama marries Sita, the furrow of the field.^ To 
 the same group of ideas belongs the Chinese custom of 
 the Emperor ploughing a furrow at his ascension to the 
 throne. This idea of the soil being feminine also em- 
 braces the idea of continual companionship with the 
 woman, a physical communication. Shiva, the Phallic 
 God, is, like Mahadeva and Parwati, male and female. 
 He has even given one-half of his body to his consort 
 Parwati as a dwelling place. ^ Inman * gives us a drawing 
 of a Pundite of Ardanari-Iswara; one-half of the god 
 is masculine, the other half feminine, and the genitals 
 are in continuous cohabitation. The motive of continu- 
 ous cohabitation is expressed in a well-known lingam 
 symbol, which is to be found everywhere in Indian 
 temples; the base is a female symbol, and within that is 
 the phallus.^ The symbol approaches very closely the 
 Grecian mystic phallic basket and chests, (Compare with 
 this the Eleusinian mysteries.) The chest or box is here 
 a female symbol, that is, the mother's womb. This is a 
 very well-known conception in the old mythologies.® The 
 chest, basket or little basket, with its precious contents, 
 was thought of as floating on the water; a remarkable 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 237 
 
 inversion of the natural fact that the child floats in the 
 amniotic fluid and that this is in the uterus. 
 
 This inversion brings about a great advantage for sub- 
 limation, for it creates enormous possibilities of appli- 
 cation for the myth-weaving phantasy, that is to say, for 
 the annexation to the sun cycle. The Sun floats over the 
 sea like an immortal god, which every evening is im- 
 mersed in the maternal water and is born again renewed 
 in the morning. Frobenius says : 
 
 " Perhaps in connection with the blood-red sunrise, the idea 
 occurs that here a birth takes place, the birth of a young son ; the 
 question then arises inevitably, whence comes the paternity? How 
 has the woman become pregnant? And since this woman sym- 
 bolizes the same idea as the fish, which means the sea, (because 
 we proceed from the assumption that the Sun descends into the 
 sea as well as arises from it) thus the curious primitive answer 
 is that this sea has previously swallowed the old Sun. Conse- 
 quently the resulting myth is, that the woman (sea) has formerly 
 devoured the Sun and now brings a new Sun into the world, and 
 thus she has become pregnant." 
 
 All these sea-going gods arQ sun symbols. They are 
 enclosed in a chest or an ark for the " night journey on 
 the sea" (Frobenius), often together with a woman 
 (again an inversion of the actual situation, but in sup- 
 port of the motive of continuous cohabitation, which we 
 have met above). During the night journey on the sea 
 the Sun-god is enclosed in the mother's womb, often- 
 times threatened by dangers of all kinds. Instead of 
 many individual examples, I will content myself with re- 
 
238 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 producing the scheme which Frobenius has constructed 
 from numberless myths of this sort : 
 
 r Heat-hair 
 ^~^^~^--^^^^ ^-^^ I To land 
 
 rr, , ^^" ^ J To slip out 
 
 ^° ^^^°"^ C: Z^ ] To open 
 
 'movement— (sea journey) 
 
 
 Frobenius gives the following legend to illustrate this : 
 
 "A hero is devoured by a water monster in the West (to 
 devour). The animal carries him within him to the East (sea 
 journey). Meanwhile, he kindles a fire in the belly of the 
 monster (to set on fire) and since he feels hungry he cuts off a piece 
 of the hanging heart (to cut off the heart). Soon after he notices 
 that the fish glides upon the dry land (to land) ; he immediately 
 begins to cut open the animal from within outwards (to open) 
 then he slides out (to slip out). In the fish's belly, it had been 
 so hot, that all his hair had fallen out (heat-hair). The hero 
 frequently frees all who were previously devoured (to devour all) 
 and all now slide out (slip out)." 
 
 A very close parallel is Noah's journey during the 
 flood, in which all living creatures die; only he and the life 
 guarded by him are brought to a new birth. In a Mela- 
 polynesian legend (Frobenius) it is told that the hero in 
 the belly of the King Fish took his weapon and cut open 
 the fish's belly, " He slid out and saw a splendor, and 
 he sat down and reflected. ' I wonder where I am,' he 
 said. Then the sun rose with a bound and turned from 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 239 
 
 one side to the other." The Sun has again slipped out. 
 Frobenius mentions from the Ramayana the myth of 
 the ape Hanuman, who represents the Sun-hero. The 
 sun in which Hanuman hurries through the air throws a 
 shadow upon the sea. The sea monster notices this and 
 through this draws Hanuman toward itself ; when the latter 
 sees that the monster is about to devour him, he stretches 
 out his figure immeasurably; the monster assumes the 
 same gigantic proportions. As he does that Hanuman 
 becomes as small as a thumb, slips into the great body 
 of the monster and comes out on the other side. In an- 
 other part of the poem it is said that he came out from 
 the right ear of the monster (like Rabelais' Gargantua, 
 who also was born from the mother's ear). " Hanuman 
 thereupon resumes his flight, and finds a new obstacle in 
 another sea monster, which is the mother of Rahus, the 
 sun-devouring demon. The latter draws Hanuman's 
 shadow ^ to her in the same way. Hanuman again has 
 recourse to the earlier stratagem, becomes small and slips 
 into her body, but hardly is he there than he grov/s to a 
 gigantic mass, swells up, tears her, kills her, and in that 
 way makes his escape." 
 
 Thus we understand why the Indian fire-bringer Ma- 
 taricvan is called " the one swelling in the mother "; the 
 ark (little box, chest, cask, vessel, etc.) is a symbol of 
 the womb, just as is the sea, into which the Sun sinks 
 for rebirth. From this circle of ideas we understand the 
 mythologic statements about Ogyges; he it Is who pos- 
 sesses the mother, the City, who is united with the mother; 
 'rherefore under him came the great flood, for it is a 
 
240 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 typical fragment of the sun myth that the hero, when 
 united with the woman attained with difficulty, is exposed 
 in a cask and thrown into the sea, and then lands for a 
 new life on a distant shore. The middle part, the " night 
 journey on the sea " in the ark, is lacking in the tradition 
 of Ogyges.*^ But the rule in mythology is that the typical 
 parts of a myth can be united in all conceivable varia- 
 tions, which adds greatly to the extraordinary difficulty 
 of the interpretation of a particular myth without knowl- 
 edge of all the others. The meaning of this cycle of 
 myths mentioned here is clear; it is the longing to attain 
 rebirth through the return to the mother's womb, that is 
 to say, to become as immortal as the sun. This longing 
 for the mother is frequently expressed in our holy scrip- 
 tures.® I recall, particularly the place in the epistle 
 to the Galatians, where it is said (iv: 26) : 
 
 (26) " But Jerusalem which is above is free, which is the 
 mother of us all. 
 
 (27) " For it is written, Rejoice, thou barren that beareth not: 
 break forth and cry, thou that travailest not : for the desolate hath 
 many more children than she which hath an husband. 
 
 (28) " Now we, brethren, as Isaac was, are the children of 
 promise. 
 
 (29) " But as he that was born after the flesh persecuted him 
 that was born after the spirit, even so it is now. 
 
 (30) " Nevertheless, what sayeth the scripture? Cast out the 
 bondwoman and her son ; for the son of a bondwoman shall not 
 be heir with the son of a freewoman. 
 
 (31) "So, then, brethren, we are not children of the bond- 
 woman, but of the free." 
 
 Chapter v: 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 241 
 
 ( 1 ) " Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ 
 has made us free." 
 
 The Christians are the children of the City Above, a 
 symbol of the mother, not sons of the earthly city-mother, 
 who is to be cast out; for those born after the flesh are 
 opposed to those born after the spirit, who are not born 
 from the mother in the flesh, but from a symbol for 
 the mother. One must again think of the Indians at this 
 point, who say the first people proceeded from the sword- 
 hilt and a shuttle. The religious thought is bound up with 
 the compulsion to call the mother no longer mother, but 
 City, Source, Sea, etc. This compulsion can be derived 
 from the need to manifest an amount of libido bound up 
 with the mother, but in such a way that the mother is 
 represented by or concealed in a symbol. The symbolism 
 of the city we find well-developed in the revelations of 
 John, where two cities play a great part, one of which 
 is insulted and cursed by him, the other greatly desired. 
 We read in Revelation (xvii: i) : 
 
 (i) "Come hither: I will shew unto thee the judgment of 
 the great whore that sitteth on many waters. 
 
 (2) " With whom the kings of the earth have committed forni- 
 cation and the inhabitants of the earth have been made drunk 
 with the wine of her fornication. 
 
 (3) " So he carried me away in the spirit into the wilderness: 
 and I saw a woman sit on a scarlet colored beast, full of the 
 names of blasphemy, and having seven heads and ten horns. 
 
 (4) " And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet colors, 
 and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, having a 
 golden cup ^° in her hand full of abominations and filthiness of 
 her fornication. 
 
 (5) "And upon her forehead was a name written: Mystery. 
 
242 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Babylon the great. The Mother of Harlots and Abominations 
 of the Earth. 
 
 (6) " And I saw the woman drunken with the blood of saints, 
 and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus: and when I saw her 
 I wondered with a great admiration." 
 
 Here follows an interpretation of the vision unintel- 
 ligible to us, from which we can only emphasize the point 
 that the seven heads " of the dragon means the seven 
 hills upon which the woman sits. This is probably a dis- 
 tinct allusion to Rome, the city whose temporal power 
 oppressed the world at the time of the Revelation. The 
 waters upon which the woman " the mother " sits are 
 " peoples and throngs and nations and tongues." This 
 also seems to refer to Rome, for she is the mother of 
 peoples and possessed all lands. Just as in common 
 speech, for example, colonies are called daughters, so 
 the people subject to Rome are like members of a family 
 subject to the mother. In another version of the picture, 
 the kings of the people, namely, the fathers, commit 
 fornication with this mother. Revelation continues 
 (xviii : 2) : 
 
 (2) " And he cried mightily with a strong voice, saying, Baby- 
 lon the Great is fallen, is fallen, and is become the habitation of 
 devils, and the hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of every 
 unclean and hateful bird. 
 
 (3) " For all nations have drunk of the wine of the wrath 
 of her fornication." 
 
 Thus this mother does not only become the mother of 
 all abominations, but also in truth the receptacle of all 
 that is wicked and unclean. The birds are images of 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 243 
 
 souls; ^^ therefore, this means all souls of the condemned 
 and evil spirits. Thus the mother becomes Hecate, the 
 underworld, the City of the damned itself. We recog- 
 nize easily in the ancient idea of the woman on the 
 dragon," the above-mentioned representation of Echnida, 
 the mother of the infernal horrors. Babylon is the idea 
 of the " terrible " mother, who seduces all people to 
 whoredom with devilish temptation, and makes them 
 drunk with her wine. The intoxicating drink stands in 
 the closest relation to fornication, for it is also a libido 
 symbol, as we have already seen in the parallel of fire 
 and sun. After the fall and curse of Babylon, we find in 
 Revelation (xix:6-7) the hymn which leads from the 
 under half to the upper half of the mother, where now 
 everything is possible which would be impossible without 
 the repression of incest: 
 
 (6) "Alleluia, the Lord God omnipotent reigneth. 
 
 (7) " Let us be glad and rejoice, and give honor to him: for 
 the marriage of the Lamb is come,^* and his wife hath made 
 herself ready. 
 
 (8) "And to her was granted that she should be arrayed in 
 fine linen, clean and white: for the fine linen is the righteousness 
 of saints. 
 
 (9) "And he saith unto me, 'Write, Blessed are they which 
 are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb.' " 
 
 The Lamb is the son of man who celebrates his mar- 
 riage with the " woman." Who the " woman " is re- 
 mains obscure at first. But Revelation (xxi: 9) shows us 
 which " woman " is the bride, the Lamb's wife: 
 
 (9) " Come hither, I will show thee the bride, the Lamb's 
 wife.^^ 
 
244 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 ( lo) " And he carried me away in the spirit to a great and 
 high mountain, and showed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem, 
 descending out of heaven from God, having the glory of God." 
 
 It is evident from this quotation, after all that goes be- 
 fore, that the City, the heavenly bride, who is here 
 promised to the Son, is the mother.^® In Babylon the 
 impure maid was cast out, according to the Epistle to the 
 Galatians, so that here in heavenly Jerusalem the mother- 
 bride may be attained the more surely. It bears witness 
 to the most delicate psychologic perception that the 
 fathers of the church who formulated the canons pre- 
 served this bit of the symbolic significance of the Christ 
 mystery. It is a treasure house for the phantasies and 
 myth materials which underlie primitive Christianity." 
 The further attributes which were heaped upon the heav- 
 enly Jerusalem make its significance as mother over- 
 whelmingly clear : 
 
 (i) "And he shewed me a pure river of water of life, clear 
 as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. 
 
 (2) "In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of 
 the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner 
 of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month, and the leaves of 
 the tree were for the healing of nations. 
 
 (3) "And there shall be no more curse." 
 
 In this quotation we come upon the symbol of the 
 waters, which we found in the mention of Ogyges in con- 
 nection with the city. The maternal significance of water 
 belongs to the clearest symbolism in the realm of my- 
 thology,^* so that the ancients could say: rj daXaacja — 
 T?/? yeviaeooi avfxfidkov.'^ From water comes life;^' 
 
 *The sea is the symbol of birth. 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 245 
 
 therefore, of the two gods which here interest us the most, 
 Christ and Mithra, the latter was born beside a river, 
 according to representations, while Christ experienced his 
 new birth in the Jordan; moreover, he is born from the 
 ^VyV)'^ the " sempiterni fons amoris," the mother of 
 God, who by the heathen-Christian legend was made a 
 nymph of the Spring. The " Spring " is also found in 
 Mithracism. A Pannonian dedication reads, " Fonti 
 perenni." An inscription in Apulia is dedicated to the 
 " Fons Aeterni." In Persia, Ardvigura is the well of the 
 water of life. Ardvigura-Anahita is a goddess of water 
 and love (just as Aphrodite is born from foam). The 
 neo-PersIans designate the Planet Venus and a nubile girl 
 by the name " Nahid." In the temples of Anaitis there 
 existed prostitute Hierodules (harlots). In the Sakaeen 
 (in honor of Anaitis) there occurred ritual combats as 
 in the festival of the Egyptian Ares and his mother. In 
 the Vedas the waters are called Matritamah — the most 
 maternal.^" All that is living rises as does the sun, from 
 the water, and at evening plunges into the water. Born 
 from the springs, the rivers, the seas, at death man arrives 
 at the waters of the Styx in order to enter upon the 
 " night journey on the sea." The wish is that the black 
 water of death might be the water of life; that death, 
 with its cold embrace, might be the mother's womb, just 
 as the sea devours the sun, but brings it forth again out 
 of the maternal womb (Jonah motive''). Life believes 
 not in death. 
 
 " In the flood of life, in the torrent of deeds, 
 I toss up and down, 
 
24-6 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 I am blown to and fro! 
 
 Cradle and grave, 
 
 An eternal sea; 
 
 A changing web, 
 
 A glowing life." — Goethe: Faust. 
 
 That $vXov ^coi^?, the wood of life, or the tree of life, is 
 a maternal symbol would seem to follow from the pre- 
 vious deductions. The etymologic connection of vgo^ 
 v\ri, vioi, in the Indo-Germanic root suggests the blend- 
 ing of the meanings in the underlying symbolism of 
 mother and of generation. The tree of life is probably, 
 first of all, a fruit-bearing genealogical tree, that is, a 
 mother-image. Countless myths prove the derivation of 
 man from trees; many myths show how the hero is en- 
 closed in the maternal tree — thus dead Osiris in the 
 column, Adonis in the myrtle, etc. Numerous female 
 divinities were worshipped as trees, from which resulted 
 the cult of the holy groves and trees. It is of transparent 
 significance when Attis castrates himself under a pine 
 tree, i. e. he does it because of the mother. Goddesses 
 were often worshipped in the form of a tree or of a 
 wood. Thus Juno of Thespiae was a branch of a tree, 
 Juno of Samos was a board. Juno of Argos was a 
 column. The Carian Diana was an uncut piece of wood. 
 Athene of Lindus was a polished column. Tertullian 
 calls Ceres of Pharos " rudis palus et informe lignum 
 sine effigie." Athenaeus remarks of Latona at Dalos that 
 she is ^xikivov aixopcpov, a shapeless piece of wood." 
 Tertullian calls an Attic Pallas " crucis stipes," a wooden 
 pale or mast. The wooden pale is phallic, as the name 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 247 
 
 suggests, q^aXr}?, Pallus. The cpaWoi Is a pale, a cere- 
 monial lingam carved out of figwood, as are all Roman 
 statues of Priapus. ^ctXo? means a projection or centre- 
 piece on the helmet, later called Hcavo?, just as dva- 
 cpa\-avTiaGi<i signifies baldheadedness on the forepart 
 of the head, and ^^orAarKpo's' signifies baldheadedness in re- 
 gard to the cpaXoi-HCDvo^ of the helmet; a semi-phallic 
 meaning is given to the upper part of the head as well.^* 
 ^dXXtjvoi has, besides cpaWo^, the significance of 
 " wooden ^'' \q)a\-dyyGOfxa,'''' cylinder " ; 9?<^Aar;/^, " a round 
 beam." The Macedonian battle array, distinguished by 
 its powerful impetus, is called q)d\ay^^ moreover, the 
 finger-joint '* is called q)a\ay^. cpdXkaiv a or (pdXaiva 
 is a whale. Now cpaXo'i appears with the meaning 
 " shining, brilliant." The Indo-Germanic root is hhale 
 = to bulge, to swell. ^^ Who does not think of Faust? 
 
 " It grows, it shines, Increases in my hand! " 
 
 That Is primitive libido symbolism, which shows how 
 Immediate Is the connection between phallic libido and 
 light. The same relations are found in the Rigveda in 
 Rudra's utterances. 
 
 Rigveda i, 114, 3: 
 
 " May we obtain your favor, thou man ruling, Oh urinating 
 Rudra." 
 
 I refer here to the previously mentioned phallic sym- 
 bolism of Rudra in the Upanlshads: 
 
 (4) " We call for help below to the flaming Rudra, to the 
 one bringing the sacrifice; him who encircles and wanders (wan- 
 dering In the vault of Heaven) to the seer." 
 
248 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 2, 33, 5: 
 
 " He who opens up the sweet, who listens to our calls, the 
 ruddy one, with the beautiful helmet, may he not give us over 
 to the powers of jealousy. 
 
 (6) "I have been rejoiced by the bull connected with Marut, 
 the supplicating one with strong force of life. 
 
 (8) " Sound the powerful song of praise to the ruddy bull to 
 the white shining one; worship the flaming one with honor, we 
 sing of the shining being Rudra. 
 
 " May Rudra's missile (arrow) not be used on us, may the 
 great displeasure of the shining one pass us by: Unbend the firm 
 (bow or hard arrow?) for the princes, thou who blessest with 
 the waters of thy body (generative strength), be gracious to our 
 children and grandchildren." "^ 
 
 In this way we pass from the realm of mother sym- 
 bolism imperceptibly into the realm of male phallic 
 symbolism. This element also lies in the tree, even in 
 the family tree, as is distinctly shown by the mediaeval 
 family trees. From the first ancestor there grows up- 
 ward, in the place of the " membrum virile," the trunk 
 of the great tree. The bisexual symbolic character of the 
 tree is intimated by the fact that in Latin trees have a 
 masculine termination and a feminine gender." The 
 feminine (especially the maternal) meaning of the forest 
 and the phallic significance of trees in dreams is well 
 known. I mention an example. 
 
 It concerns a woman who had always been nervous, 
 and who, after many years of marriage, became ill as a 
 result of the typical retention of the libido. She had the 
 following dream after she had learned to know a young 
 man of many engaging free opinions who was very pleas- 
 ing to her: She found herself in a garden where stood 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 249 
 
 a remarkable exotic tree with strange red fleshy flowers 
 or fruits. She picked them and ate them. Then, to her 
 horror, she felt that she was poisoned. This dream idea 
 may easily be understood by means of the antique or 
 poetic symbolism, so I can spare information as to the 
 analytic material. 
 
 The double significance of the tree is readily explained 
 by the fact that such symbols are not to be understood 
 "anatomically" but psychologically as libido symbols; 
 therefore, it is not permissible to interpret the tree on 
 account of its similar form as directly phallic; It can also 
 be called a woman or the uterus of the mother. The 
 uniformity of the significance lies alone in the similarity 
 to the libido. ^^ One loses one's way In one " cul de sac " 
 after another by saying that this is the symbol substituted 
 for the mother and that for the penis. In this realm 
 there is no fixed significance of things. The only reality 
 here is the libido, for which " all that is perishable Is 
 merely a symbol." It is not the physical actual mother, 
 but the libido of the son, the object of which was once 
 the mother. We take mythologic symbols much too con- 
 cretely and wonder at every step about the endless con- 
 tradictions. These contradictions arise only because we 
 constantly forget that in the realm of phantasy " feeling 
 is all." Whenever we read, therefore, " his mother was 
 a wicked sorcerer," the translation is as follows: The 
 son is In love with her, namely, he is unable to detach his 
 libido from the mother-Imago; he therefore suffers from 
 incestuous resistance. 
 
 The symbolism of water and trees, which are met with 
 
250 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 as further attributes in the symbol of the City, also refer 
 to that amount of libido which unconsciously is fastened 
 to the mother-imago. In certain parts of Revelation 
 the unconscious psychology of religious longing is re- 
 vealed, namely, the longing for the mother.^^ The ex- 
 pectation of Revelation ends in the mother: xal nav 
 uaradejjia ovH sGtai i'ri. ("and there shall be no more 
 curse "). There shall be no more sins, no repression, no 
 disharmony with one's self, no guilt, no fear of death and 
 no pain of separation more ! 
 
 Thus Revelation echoes that same radiant mystical 
 harmony which was caught again 2,000 years later and 
 expressed poetically in the last prayer of Dr. Marianus: 
 
 " Penitents, look up, elate. 
 Where she beams salvation; 
 Gratefully to blessed fate 
 Grow, in recreation! 
 Be our souls, as they have been, 
 Dedicate to thee! 
 Virgin Hol)^ Mother, Queen, 
 Goddess, gracious be!" — Goethe: Faust. 
 
 One principal question arises at the sight of this beauty 
 and greatness of feeling, that is, whether the primary 
 tendency compensated by religion is not too narrowly 
 understood as incestuous. I have previously observed In 
 regard to this that I consider the " resistance opposed to 
 libido " as in a general way coincident with the incest pro- 
 hibition. I must leave open for the present the definition 
 of the psychological Incest conception. However, I will 
 here emphasize the point that it Is most especially the 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 251 
 
 totality of the sun myth which proves to us that the 
 fundamental basis of the " incestuous " desire does not 
 aim at cohabitation, but at the special thought of becom- 
 ing a child again, of turning back to the parent's protec- 
 tion, of coming into the mother once more in order to be 
 born again. But incest stands in the path to this goal, 
 that is to say, the necessity of in some way again gaining 
 entrance into the mother's womb. One of the simplest 
 ways would be to impregnate the mother, and to repro- 
 duce one's self identically. But here the incest prohibition 
 interferes; therefore, the myths of the sun or of rebirth 
 teem with all possible proposals as to how incest can be 
 evaded. A very simple method of avoidance is to trans- 
 form the mother into another being or to rejuvenate ^^ 
 her after birth has occurred, to have her disappear again 
 or have her change back. It is not incestuous cohabita- 
 tion which is desired, but the rebirth, which now is at- 
 tained most readily through cohabitation. But this is 
 not the only way, although perhaps the original one. The 
 resistance to the incest prohibition makes the phantasy 
 inventive; for example, it was attempted to impregnate 
 the mother by means of a magic charm of fertility (to 
 wish for a child). Attempts in this respect remain in 
 the stage of mythical phantasies; but they have one re- 
 sult, and that is the exercise of the phantasy which 
 gradually produces paths through the creation of phan- 
 tastic possibilities, in which the libido, taking an active 
 part, can flow off. Thus the libido becomes spiritualized 
 in an imperceptible manner. The power " which always 
 wishes evil " thus creates a spiritual life. Therefore, in 
 
252 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 religions, this course is now raised to a system. On that 
 account it is exceedingly instructiv^e to see how religion 
 takes pains to further these symbolic transferences.^^ 
 The New Testament furnishes us with an excellent ex- 
 ample in regard to this. Nicodemus, in the speech re- 
 garding rebirth, cannot forbear understanding the matter 
 very realistically. 
 
 John iii:4: 
 
 (4) "How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter 
 a second time into his mother's womb, and be born?" 
 
 But Jesus endeavors to raise into purity the sensuous 
 view of Nicodemus's mind moulded in materialistic 
 heaviness, and announces to him — really the same — and 
 yet not the same : 
 
 (5) " Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born of 
 water and of the spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of 
 God. 
 
 (6) "That which is born of the flesh is flesh: and that which 
 is born of the spirit is spirit. 
 
 (7) " Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be born 
 again. 
 
 (8) " The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the 
 sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh and whither 
 it goeth; so is everj'one that is born of the spirit." 
 
 To be born of water means simply to be born from the 
 mother's womb. To be born of the spirit means to be 
 born from the fructifying breath of the wind; this we 
 learn from the Greek text (where spirit and wind are ex- 
 pressed by the same word, Trvsv/xa) to ysyswr^/uevov 
 en rrji Gapnoi Gap^ sffTiv, xai to yeyavvTjjuivov ex rov 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 253 
 
 Trvsvjuaro? 7rvev/.(d €<jtiv. — To Ttvsvjua ottov deXei ttvsI,* 
 etc. 
 
 This symbolism rose from the same need as that which 
 produced the Egyptian legend of the vultures, the mother 
 symbol. They were only females and were fertilized by 
 the wind. One recognizes very clearly the ethical de- 
 mand as the foundation of these mythologic assertions: 
 thou must say of the mother that she was not impreg- 
 nated by a mortal in the ordinary zscay, but by a spiritual 
 being in an unusual manner. This demand stands in 
 strict opposition to the real truth; therefore, the myth 
 is a fitting solution. One can say it was a hero who died 
 and was born again in a remarkable manner, and in this 
 way attained immortality. The need which this demand 
 asserts is evidently a prohibition against a definite phan- 
 tasy concerning the mother. A son may naturally think 
 that a father has generated him in a carnal way, but not 
 that he himself impregnated the mother and so caused 
 himself to be born again into renewed youth. This in- 
 cestuous phantasy which for some reason possesses an 
 extraordinary strength,^- and, therefore, appears as a 
 compulsory wish, is repressed and, conforming to the 
 above demand, under certain conditions, expresses itself 
 again, symbolically, concerning the problem of birth, or 
 rather concerning individual rebirth from the mother. 
 In Jesus's challenge to Nicodemus we clearly recognize 
 this tendency: "Think not carnally or thou art carnal, 
 but think symbolically, then art thou spirit." It is evident 
 
 * That which is born of the flesh is flesh and that which is born of 
 the spirit is spirit; the spirit bloweth where it listeth. 
 
254 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 how extremely educative and developing this compulsion 
 toward symboHsm can be. Nicodemus would remain fixed 
 in low commonplaces if he did not succeed in raising him- 
 self through symbols above this repressed incestuous 
 desire. As a righteous philistine of culture, he probably 
 was not very anxious for this effort, because men seem 
 really to remain satisfied in repressing the incestuous 
 libido, and at best to express it by some modest religious 
 exercises. Yet it seems to be important, on the other 
 side, that man should not merely renounce and repress 
 and thereby remain firmly fixed in the incestuous bond, 
 but that he should redeem those dynamic forces which 
 lie bound up in incest, in order to fulfil himself. For man 
 needs his whole libido, to fill out the boundaries of his 
 personality, and then, for the first time, he is in a condi- 
 tion to do his best. The paths by which man may mani- 
 fest his incestuously fixed libido seem to have been 
 pointed out by the religious mythologic symbols. On this 
 account Jesus teaches Nicodemus: "Thou thinkest of 
 thy incestuous wish for rebirth, but thou must think that 
 thou art born from the water and that thou art generated 
 by the breath of the wind,"^ and in this way thou shalt 
 share in eternal life." 
 
 Thus the libido which lies inactive in the incestuous 
 bond repressed and in fear of the law and the avenging 
 Father God can be led over into sublimation through the 
 symbol of baptism (birth from water) and of generation 
 (spiritual birth) through the symbol of the descent of the 
 Holy Ghost. Thus man becomes a child ^* again and is 
 born into a circle of brothers and sisters; but his mother 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 255 
 
 is the " communion of the saints," the church, and his 
 circle of brothers and sisters is humanity, with whom he is 
 united anew in the common inheritance of the primitive 
 symbol. 
 
 It seems that at the time in which Christianity had its 
 origin this process was especially necessary; for that 
 period, as the result of the incredible contrast between 
 slavery and the freedom of the citizens and masters, had 
 entirely lost the consciousness of the common bond of 
 mankind. One of the next and most essential reasons for 
 the energetic regression to the infantile in Christianity, 
 which goes hand in hand with the revival of the incest 
 problem, was probably to be found in the far-reaching 
 depreciation of women. At that time sexuality was so 
 easily attainable that the result could only be a very ex- 
 cessive depreciation of the sexual object. The existence 
 of personal values was first discovered by Christianity, 
 and there are many people who have not discovered it 
 even in the present day. However, the depreciation of 
 the sexual object hinders the outflow of that libido which 
 cannot be satisfied by sexual activity, because it belongs 
 to an already desexualized higher order. (If it were 
 not so, a Don Juan could never be neurotic; but the con- 
 trary is the case.) For how might those higher valua- 
 tions be given to a worthless, despised object? There- 
 fore, the libido, after having seen a " Helen in every 
 woman " for so long a time, sets out on a search for the 
 difficult to obtain, the worshipped, but perhaps unattain- 
 able, goal, and which in the unconscious is the mother. 
 Therefore the symbolic needs, based on the Incest resist- 
 
256 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 ance, arise again in an increased degree, which promptly 
 transforms the beautiful, sinful world of the Olympian 
 Gods into incomprehensible, dreamlike, dark mysteries, 
 which, with their accessions of symbols and obscure mean- 
 ingful texts, remove us very far from the religious 
 feelings of that Roman-Gra^co world. When we see 
 how much trouble Jesus took to make acceptable to Nico- 
 demus the symbolic perception of things, that is to say, 
 really a repression and veiling over of the actual facts, 
 and how important it was for the history of civilization 
 in general, that people thought and still think in this 
 way, then we understand the revolt which is raised every- 
 where against the psychologic discovery of the true back- 
 ground of the neurotic or normal symbolism. Always 
 and everywhere we encounter the odious realm of sexual- 
 ity, which represents to all righteous people of to-day 
 something defiled. However, less than 2,000 years have 
 passed since the religious cult of sexuality was more or 
 less openly in full bloom. To be sure, they were heathen 
 and did not know better, but the nature of religious power 
 does not change from cycle to cycle. If one has once re- 
 ceived an effectual impression of the sexual contents of 
 the ancient cults, and if one realizes oneself that the re- 
 ligious experience, that is, the union "^ with the God of 
 antiquity, was understood by antiquity as a more or less 
 concrete coitus, then truly one can no longer fancy that 
 the motor forces of a religion have suddenly become 
 wholly different since the birth of Christ. Exactly the 
 same thing has occurred as with the hysteric who at first 
 indulges in some quite unbeautiful, infantile sexual mani- 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 257 
 
 festatlons and afterwards develops a hyperaesthetic nega- 
 tion in order to convince every one of his special purity. 
 Christianity, with its repression of the manifest sexual, is 
 the negative of the ancient sexual cult. The original cult 
 has changed its tokens.^® One only needs to realize how 
 much of the gay paganism, even to the inclusion of un- 
 seemly Gods, has been taken into the Christian church. 
 Thus the old indecent Priapus celebrated a gay festival of 
 resurrection in St. Tychon." Also partly in the physicians 
 Sts. Kosma and Damien, who graciously condescended to 
 accept the " membra virilia " in wax at their festival.^^ 
 St. Phallus of old memories emerges again to be wor- 
 shipped in country chapels, to say nothing of the rest of 
 the paganism! 
 
 There are those who have not yet learned to recognize 
 sexuality as a function equivalent to hunger and who, 
 therefore, consider it as disgraceful that certain taboo 
 institutions which were considered as asexual refuges are 
 now recognized as overflowing with sexual symbolism. 
 Those people are doomed to the painful realization that 
 such is still the case, in spite of their great revolt. One 
 must learn to understand that, opposed to the customary 
 habit of thought, psychoanalytic thinking reduces and 
 resolves those symbolic structures which have become 
 more and more complicated through countless elabora- 
 tion. This means a course of reduction which would 
 be an intellectual enjoyment if the object were different. 
 But here it becomes distressing, not only aesthetically, but 
 apparently also ethically, because the repressions which 
 are to be overcome have been brought about by our best 
 
258 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 intentions. We must commence to overcome our virtu- 
 ousness with the certain fear of falling into baseness on 
 the other side. This is certainly true, for virtuousness is 
 always inwardly compensated by a great tendency towards 
 baseness; and how many profligates are there who in- 
 wardly preserve a mawkish virtue and moral megalo- 
 mania? Both categories of men turn out to be snobs 
 when they come in contact with analytic psychology, be- 
 cause the moral man has imagined an objective and cheap 
 verdict on sexuality and the unmoral man is entirely un- 
 aware of the vulgarity of his sexuality and of his inca- 
 pacity for an unselfish love. One completely forgets that 
 one can most miserably be carried away, not only by a 
 vice, but also by a virtue. There is a fanatic orgiastic 
 self-righteousness which is just as base and which entails 
 just as much injustice and violence as a vice. 
 
 At this time, when a large part of mankind is begin- 
 ning to discard Christianity, it is worth while to under- 
 stand clearly why it was originally accepted. It was ac- 
 cepted in order to escape at last from the brutality of 
 antiquity. As soon as we discard it, licentiousness re- 
 turns, as impressively exemplified by life in our large 
 modern cities. This step is not a forward step, but a 
 backward one. It is as with individuals who have laid 
 aside one form of transference and have no new one. 
 Without fail they will occupy regressively the old path 
 of transference, to their great detriment, because the 
 world around them has since then essentially changed. 
 He who is repelled by the historical and philosophical 
 weakness of the Christian dogmatism and the religious 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 259 
 
 emptiness of an historical Jesus, of whose person we know 
 nothing and whose rehgious value is partly Talmudic, 
 partly Hellenic wisdom, and discards Christianity, and 
 therewith Christian morality, is certainly confronted with 
 the ancient problem of licentiousness. Today the indi- 
 vidual still feels himself restrained by the public hypo- 
 critical opinion, and, therefore, prefers to lead a secret, 
 separate life, but publicly to represent morality. It 
 might be different if men in general all at once found the 
 moral mask too dull, and if they realized how danger- 
 ously their beasts lie in wait for each other, and then 
 truly a frenzy of demoralization might sweep over hu- 
 manity. This is the dream, the wish dream, of the 
 morally limited man of today; he forgets necessity, which 
 strangles men and robs them of their breath, and which 
 with a stern hand interrupts every passion. 
 
 It must not be imputed to me that I am wishing to 
 refer the libido back by analytical reduction to the primi- 
 tive, almost conquered, stages, entirely forgetting the fear- 
 ful misery this would entail for humanity. Indeed, some 
 individuals would let themselves be transported by the 
 old-time frenzy of sexuality, from which the burden of 
 guilt has been removed, to their own greatest detriment. 
 
 But these are the ones who under other circumstances 
 would have prematurely perished in some other way. 
 However, I well know the most effectual and most inex- 
 orable regulator of human sexuality. This is necessity. 
 With this leaden weight human lust will never fly too 
 high. 
 
 To-day there are countless neurotics who are so simply 
 
26o PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 because they do not know how to seek happiness in their 
 own manner. They do not even realize where the lack 
 lies. And besides these neurotics there are many more 
 normal people — and precisely people of the higher type — 
 who feel restricted and discontented. For all these re- 
 duction to the sexual elements should be undertaken, in 
 order that they may be reinstated into the possession of 
 their primitive self, and thereby learn to know and value 
 its relation to the entire personality. In this way alone 
 can certain requirements be fulfilled and others be re- 
 pudiated as unfit because of their infantile character. In 
 this way the individual will come to realize that certain 
 things are to be sacrificed, although they are accom- 
 plished, but in another sphere. We imagine that we have 
 long renounced, sacrificed and cut off our incest wish, 
 and that nothing of it is left. But it does not occur to us 
 that this is not true, but that we unconsciously commit 
 incest in another territory. In religious symbols, for 
 example, we come across incest.'^^ We consider the In- 
 cestuous wish vanished and lost, and then rediscover it 
 in full force in religion. This process or transformation 
 has taken place unconsciously in secular development. 
 Just as in Part I it is shown that a similar unconscious 
 transformation of the libido is an ethically worthless pose, 
 and with which I compared the Christianity of early 
 Roman antiquity, where evidently licentiousness and bru- 
 tality were strongly resisted, so here I must remark in 
 regard to the sublimation of the incestuous libido, that 
 the belief in the religious symbol has ceased to be an 
 ethical ideal; but it is an unconscious transformation of 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 261 
 
 the incest wish into symbolic acts and symbolic concepts 
 which cheat men, as it were, so that heaven appears to 
 them as a father and earth as a mother and the people 
 upon it children and brothers and sisters. Thus man can 
 remain a child for all time and satisfy his incest wish all 
 unawares. This state would doubtless be ideal *" if it were 
 not infantile and, therefore, merely a one-sided wish, which 
 maintains a childish attitude. The reverse is anxiety. 
 Much is said of pious people who remain unshaken in 
 their trust in God and wander unswervingly safe and 
 blessed through the world. I have never seen this Chid- 
 her yet. It is probably a wish figure. The rule is great 
 uncertainty among believers, which they drown with 
 fanatical cries among themselves or among others ; more- 
 over, they have religious doubts, moral uncertainty, 
 doubts of their own personality, feelings of guilt and, 
 deepest of all, great fear of the opposite aspect of reality, 
 against which the most highly intelligent people struggle 
 with all their force. This other side is the devil, the 
 adversary or, expressed in modern terms, the corrective 
 of reality, of the infantile world picture, which has been 
 made acceptable through the predominating pleasure 
 principle." But the world is not a garden of God, of 
 the Father, but a place of terrors. Not only is heaven 
 no father and earth no mother and the people not 
 brothers nor sisters, but they represent hostile, destroy- 
 ing powers, to which we are abandoned the more surely, 
 the more childishly and thoughtlessly we have entrusted 
 ourselves to the so-called Fatherly hand of God. One 
 should never forget th« harsh speech of the first Na- 
 
262 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 poleon, that the good God is always on the side of the 
 heaviest artillery. 
 
 The religious myth meets us here as one of the greatest 
 and most significant human institutions which, despite 
 misleading symbols, nevertheless gives man assurance and 
 strength, so that he may not be overwhelmed by the 
 monsters of the universe. The symbol, considered from 
 the standpoint of actual truth, is misleading, indeed, but 
 it is psychologically true,^^ because it was and is the bridge 
 to all the greatest achievements of humanity. 
 
 But this does not mean to say that this unconscious 
 way of transformation of the incest wish into religious 
 exercises is the only one or the only possible one. There 
 is also a conscious recognition and understanding with 
 which we can take possession of this libido which is 
 bound up in incest and transformed into religious exer- 
 cises so that we no longer need the stage of religious 
 symbolism for this end. It is thinkable that instead of 
 doing good to our fellow-men, for " the love of Christ," 
 we do it from the knowledge that humanity, even as our- 
 selves, could not exist if, among the herd, the one could 
 not sacrifice himself for the other. This would be the 
 course of moral autonomy, of perfect freedom, when man 
 could without compulsion wish that which he must do, 
 and this frorn knowledge, without delusion through be- 
 lief in the religious symbols. 
 
 It is a positive creed which keeps us infantile and, 
 therefore, ethically inferior. Although of the greatest 
 significance from the cultural point of view and of im- 
 perishable beauty from the aesthetic standpoint, this 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 263 
 
 delusion can no longer ethically suffice humanity striving 
 after moral autonomy. 
 
 The infantile and moral danger lies in belief in the 
 symbol because through that we guide the libido to an 
 imaginary reality. The simple negation of the symbol 
 changes nothing, for the entire mental disposition re- 
 mains the same ; we merely remove the dangerous object. 
 But the object is not dangerous; the danger is our own 
 infantile mental state, for love of which we have lost 
 something very beautiful and ingenious through the 
 simple abandonment of the religious symbol. I think 
 belief should be replaced by understanding; then we 
 would keep the beauty of the symbol, but still remain 
 free from the depressing results of submission to belief. 
 This would be the psychoanalytic cure for belief and dis- 
 belief. 
 
 The vision following upon that of the city is that of a 
 " strange fir tree with gnarled branches." This vision 
 does not seem extraordinary to us after all that we have 
 learned of the tree of life and its associations with the 
 city and the waters of life. This especial tree seems 
 simply to continue the category of the mother symbols. 
 The attribute " strange " probably signifies, as in dreams, 
 a special emphasis, that is, a special underlying complex 
 material. Unfortunately, the author gives us no indi- 
 vidual material for this. As the tree already suggested 
 in the symbolism of the city is particularly emphasized 
 through the further development of Miss Miller's visions 
 
264 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 here, I find it necessary to discuss at some length the his- 
 tory of the symbolism of the tree. 
 
 It is well known that trees have played a large part in 
 the cult myth from the remotest times. The typical myth 
 tree is the tree of paradise or of life which we discover 
 abundantly used in Babylonian and also in Jewish lore; 
 and in prechristian times, the pine tree of Attis, the tree 
 or trees of Mithra; in Germanic mythology, Ygdrasil 
 and so on. The hanging of the Attis image on the pine 
 tree; the hanging of Marsyas, which became a celebrated 
 artistic motive; the hanging of Odin; the Germanic hang- 
 ing sacrifices — indeed, the whole series of hanged gods — 
 teaches us that the hanging of Christ on the cross is not 
 a unique occurrence in religious mythology, but belongs 
 to the same circle of ideas as others. In this world of 
 imagery the cross of Christ is the tree of life, and equally 
 the wood of death. This contrast is not astounding. 
 Just as the origin of man from trees was a legendary idea, 
 so there were also burial customs, in which people were 
 buried in hollow trees. From that the German language 
 retains even now the expression " Totenbaum " (tree of 
 death) for a coffin. Keeping in mind the fact that the 
 tree is predominantly a mother symbol, then the mystic 
 significance of this manner of burial can be in no way 
 incomprehensible to us. The dead are delivered hack to 
 the mother for rebirth. We encounter this symbol in 
 the Osiris myth, handed down by Plutarch,*^ which is, in 
 general, typical in various aspects. Rhea is pregnant with 
 Osiris; at the same time also with Isis; Osiris and Isis 
 mate even in the mother's womb (motive of the night 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 265 
 
 journey on the sea with incest). Their son is Arueris, 
 later called Horus. It is said of Isis that she was born 
 " in absolute humidity " {TerdpTrj 6i rijv "Iffiv iv navv- 
 ypoi? yeveaOai *). It is said of Osiris that a certain Pa- 
 myles in Thebes heard a voice from the temple of Zeus 
 while drawing water, which commanded him to proclaim 
 that Osiris was born ^iya? /SaffiXev? evepyitrj? "Offipi?.\ 
 In honor of this the Pamylion were celebrated. They 
 were similar to the phallophorion, Pamyles is a phallic 
 demon, similar to the original Dionysus. The myth re- 
 duced reads: Osiris and Isis were generated by phallus 
 from the water (mother womb) in the ordinary manner. 
 (Kronos had made Rhea pregnant, the relation was 
 secret, and Rhea was his sister. Helios, however, ob- 
 served it and cursed the relation.) Osiris was killed in 
 a crafty manner by the god of the underworld, Typhon, 
 who locked him in a chest. He was thrown into the Nile, 
 and so carried out to sea. Osiris, however, mated in the 
 underworld with his second sister, Nephthys (motive of 
 the night journey to the sea with incest). One sees here 
 how the symbolism is developed. In the mother womb, 
 before the outward existence, Osiris commits incest; in 
 death, the second intrauterine existence, Osiris again com- 
 mits incest. Both times with a sister who is simply sub- 
 stituted for the mother as a legal, uncensured symbol, 
 since the marriage with a sister in early antiquity was not 
 merely tolerated, but was really commended. Zara- 
 thustra also recommended the marriage of kindred. This 
 
 * In tbe fourth place Isis was born in absolute humidity, 
 t The great beneficent king, Osiris. 
 
266 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 form of myth would be impossible to-day, because co- 
 habitation with the sister, being incestuous, would be 
 repressed. The wicked Typhon entices Osiris craftily 
 into a box or chest; this distortion of the true state of 
 affairs is transparent. The " original sin " caused men to 
 wish to go back into the mother again, that is, the in- 
 cestuous desire for the mother, condemned by law, is the 
 ruse supposedly invented by Typhon. The fact is, the 
 ruse is very significant. Man tries to sneak into rebirth 
 through subterfuge in order to become a child again. 
 An early Egyptian hymn " even raises an accusation 
 against the mother Isis because she destroys the sun-god 
 Re by treachery. It was interpreted as the ill-will of the 
 mother towards her son that she banished and betrayed 
 him. The hymn describes how Isis fashioned a snake, 
 put it in the path of Re, and how the snake wounded the 
 sun-god with a poisonous bite, from which wound he 
 never recovered, so that finally he had to retire on the 
 back of the heavenly cow. But this cow is the cow- 
 headed goddess, just as Osiris is the bull Apis. The 
 mother is accused as if she were the cause of man flyjng 
 to the mother in order to be cured of the wound which 
 she had herself inflicted. This wound is the prohibition 
 of incest.*^ Man is thus cut off from the hopeful cer- 
 tainty of childhood and early youth, from all the uncon- 
 scious, instinctive happenings which permit the child to 
 live as an appendage of his parents, unconscious of him- 
 self. There must be contained in this many sensitive 
 memories of the animal age, where there was not any 
 " thou shalt " and " thou shalt not," but all was just 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 267 
 
 simple occurrence. Even yet a deep animosity seems to 
 live in man because a brutal law has separated him from 
 the instinctive yielding to his desires and from the great 
 beauty of the harmony of the animal nature. This sepa- 
 ration manifested itself, among other things, in the incest 
 prohibition and its correlates (laws of marriage, etc.) ; 
 therefore pain and anger relate to the mother, as if she 
 were responsible for the domestication of the sons of 
 men. In order not to become conscious of his incest wish 
 (his backward harking to the animal nature), the son 
 throws all the burden of the guilt on the mother, from 
 which arises the idea of the " terrible mother." ^® The 
 mother becomes for him a spectre of anxiety, a night- 
 mare.*^ 
 
 After the completed " night journey to the sea," the 
 chest of Osiris was cast ashore by Byblos, and lay in the 
 branches of an Erica, which grew around the coffin and 
 became a splendid tree. The king of the land had the 
 tree placed as a column under his roof.** During this 
 period of Osiris's absence (the winter solstice) the lament 
 customary during thousands of years for the dead god 
 and his return occurs, and its svpsffi? is a feast of joy. 
 A passage from the mournful quest of Isis is especially 
 noteworthy : 
 
 " She flutters like a swallow lamenting around the column, 
 which encloses the god sleeping in death." 
 
 (This same motive returns in the Kyffhauser saga.) 
 Later on Typhon dismembers the corpse and scatters 
 the pieces. We come upon the motive of dismember- 
 
268 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 ment In countless sun myths,*® namely, the inversion of 
 the idea of the composition of the child In the mother's 
 womb.^° In fact, the mother Isis collects the pieces of 
 the body with the help of the jackal-headed Anubis. (She 
 finds the corpse with the help of dogs.) Here the noc- 
 turnal devourers of bodies, the dogs and jackals, become 
 the assistants of the composition, of the reproduction." 
 The Egyptian vulture owes its symbolic meaning as 
 mother to this necrophagic habit. In Persian antiquity the 
 corpses were thrown out for the dogs to devour, just as 
 to-day in the Indian funeral pyres the removal of the 
 carcasses is left to the vultures. Persia was familiar with 
 the custom of leading a dog to the bed of one dying, 
 whereupon the latter had to present the dog with a mor- 
 sel." The custom, on its surface, evidently signifies that 
 the morsel is to belong to the dog, so that he will spare 
 the body of the dead, precisely as Cerberus was soothed 
 by the honey-cakes which Hercules gave to him in the 
 journey to hell. But when we bear In mind the jackal- 
 headed Anubis who rendered his good services in the 
 gathering together of the dismembered Osiris, and the 
 mother significance of the vulture, then the question arises 
 whether something deeper was not meant by this cere- 
 mony. Creuzer has also concerned himself, with this idea, 
 and has come to the conclusion that the astral form of 
 the dog ceremony, that Is, the appearance of SIrius, the 
 dog star, at the period of the sun's highest position. Is 
 related to this in that the Introduction of the dog has a 
 compensatory significance, death being thereby made, re- 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 269 
 
 versedly, equal to the sun's highest position. This is 
 quite in conformity with psychologic thought, which re- 
 sults from the very general fact that death is interpreted 
 as entrance into the mother's womb (rebirth). This in- 
 terpretation would seem to be supported by the other- 
 wise enigmatic function of the dog in the Sacrificium 
 Mithriacum. In the monuments a dog always leaps up 
 upon the bull killed by Mithra. However, this sacrifice 
 is probably to be interpreted through the Persian legend, 
 as well as through the monument, as the moment of the 
 highest fecundity. The most beautiful expression of this 
 is seen upon the magnificent Mithra relief of Heddern- 
 heim. Upon one side of a large stone slab (formerly 
 probably rotating) is seen the stereotyped overthrowing 
 and sacrifice of the bull, but upon the other side stands 
 Sol, with a bunch of grapes in his hand, Mithra with 
 the cornucopia, the Dadophores with fruits, correspond- 
 ing to the legend that all fecundity proceeds from the 
 dead bull of the world, fruits from the horns, wine from 
 its blood, grain from the tail, cattle from its sperma, leek, 
 from its nose, and so on. Silvanus stands above this 
 scene with the animals of the forest arising from him. 
 The significance suspected by Creuzer might very easily 
 belong to the dog in this connection.^^ Let us now turn 
 back to the myth of Osiris. In spite of the restoration of 
 the corpse accomplished by Isis, the resuscitation succeeds 
 only incompletely in so far as the phallus of Osiris cannot 
 again be produced, because It was eaten by the fishes; 
 the power of life was wanting.^* Osiris as a phantom 
 once more impregnated Isis, but the fruit is Harpocrates, 
 
270 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 who was feeble In roi? xdt coder yviois (in the lower 
 limbs), that is, corresponding to the significance of 
 yviov (at the feet). (Here, as is plainly evident, foot 
 is used in the phallic meaning.) This incurability of the 
 setting sun corresponds to the incurability of Re in the 
 above-mentioned older Egyptian sun hymn. Osiris, al- 
 though only a phantom, now prepares the young sun, his 
 son Horus, for a battle with Typhon, the evil spirit of 
 darkness. Osiris and Horus correspond to the father- 
 son symbolism mentioned in the beginning, which sym- 
 bolic figure, corresponding again to the above formula- 
 tion," is flanked by the well-formed and ugly figures of 
 Horus and Harpocrates, the latter appearing mostly as a 
 cripple, often represented distorted to a mere caricature. ^^ 
 He is confused in the tradition very much with Horus, 
 with whom he also has the name in common. Hor-pi- 
 chrud, as his real name " reads, is composed from chrtid, 
 " child," and Hor, from the adjective hri = up, on top, 
 and signifies the up-coming child, as the rising sun, and 
 opposed to Osiris, who personifies the setting sun— the 
 sun of the west. Thus Osiris and Horpichrud or Horus 
 are one being, both husband and son of the same mother, 
 Hathor-Isis. The Chnum-Ra, the sun god of lower 
 Egypt, represented as a ram, has at his side, as the female 
 divinity of the land, Hatmehit, who wears the fish on her 
 head. She Is the mother and wife of Bi-neb-did (Ram, 
 local name of Chnum-Ra). In the hymn of Hibis,^^ 
 Amon-ra was invoked: 
 
 "Thy (Chum-Ram) dwells in Mendes, united as the quad- 
 ruple god Thmuis. He is the phallus, the lord of the gods. The 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 271 
 
 bull of his mother rejoices in the cow (ahet, the mother) and 
 man fructifies through his semen." 
 
 In further inscriptions Hatmehit was directly referred 
 to as the *' mother of Mendes." (Mendes is the Greek 
 form of Bi-neb-did: ram.) She is also invoked as the 
 " Good," with the additional significance of ta-nofert, or 
 " young woman." The cow as symbol of the mother Is 
 found in all possible forms and variations of Hathor- 
 Isis, and also in the female Nun (parallel to this is the 
 primitive goddess Nit or Neith), the protoplasm which, 
 related to the Hindoo Atman,*^** is equally of masculine 
 and feminine nature. Nun is, therefore, invoked as 
 Amon,*'° the original water,®^ which is in the beginning. 
 He is also designated as the father of fathers, the mother 
 of mothers. To this corresponds the invocation to the 
 female side of Nun-Amon, of Nit or Neith. 
 
 " Nit, the ancient, the mother of god, the mistress of Esne, 
 the father of fathers, the mother of mothers, who is the beetle 
 and the vulture, the being in its beginning. 
 
 " Nit, the ancient, the mother who bore the light god, Ra, 
 who bore first of all, when there was nothing which brought forth. 
 
 " The cow, the ancient, which bore the sun, and then laid the 
 germ of gods and men." 
 
 The word " nun " has the significance of young, fresh, 
 new, also the on-coming waters of the Nile flood. In a 
 transferred sense " nun " was also used for the chaotic 
 primitive waters; in general for the primitive generating 
 matter ^^ which was personified by the goddess Nunet. 
 From her Nut sprang, the goddess of heaven, who was 
 
272 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 represented with a starry body, and also as the heavenly 
 cow with a starry body. 
 
 When the sun-god, little by little, retires on the back 
 of the heavenly cow, just as poor Lazarus returns into 
 Abraham's bosom, each has the same significance; they 
 return into the mother, in order to rise as Horus. Thus 
 it can be said that in the morning the goddess is the 
 mother, at noon the sister-wife and in the evening again 
 the mother, who receives the dying in her lap, reminding 
 us of the Pieta of Michelangelo. As shown by the illus- 
 tration (from Dideron's " Iconographie Chretienne "), 
 this thought has been transferred as a whole into Chris- 
 tianity. 
 
 Thus the fate of Osiris is explained: he passes into 
 the mother's womb, the chest, the sea, the tree, the 
 column of Astartes; he is dismembered, re-formed, and 
 reappears again in his son, Hor-pi-chrud. 
 
 Before entering upon the further mysteries which the 
 beautiful myth reveals to us, there is still much to be said 
 about the symbol of the tree. Osiris lies in the branches 
 of the tree, surrounded by them, as in the mother's womb. 
 The motive of embracing and entwining is often found 
 in the sun myths, meaning that it is the myth of rebirth. 
 A good example is the Sleeping Beauty, also the legend 
 of the girl who is enclosed between the bark and the 
 trunk, but who is freed by a youth with his horn.^^ The 
 horn is of gold and silver, which hints at the sunbeam in 
 the phallic meaning. (Compare the previous legend of 
 the horn.) An exotic legend tells of the sun-hero, how he 
 must be freed from the plant entwining around him.®* 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 273 
 
 A girl dreams of her lover who has fallen into the water; 
 she tries to save him, but first has to pull seaweed and 
 sea-grass from the water; then she catches him. In an 
 African myth the hero, after his act, must first be disen- 
 tangled from the seaweed. In a Polynesian myth the 
 hero's ship was encoiled by the tentacles of a gigantic 
 polyp. Re's ship is encoiled by a night serpent on its 
 night journey on the sea. In the poetic rendering of the 
 history of Buddha's birth by Sir Edwin Arnold ("The 
 Light of Asia," p. 5) the motive of an embrace is also 
 found : 
 
 " Queen Maya stood at noon, her days fulfilled, 
 Under a Palso in the palace grounds, 
 A stately trunk, straight as a temple shaft. 
 With crown of glossy leaves and fragrant blooms; 
 And knowing the time come — for all things knew — 
 The conscious tree bent down its boughs to make 
 A bower about Queen Maya's majesty : 
 And earth put forth a thousand sudden flowers 
 To spread a couch: while ready for the bath 
 The rock hard by gave out a limpid stream 
 Of crystal flow. So brought she forth the child." ®^ 
 
 We come across a very similar motive in the cult legend 
 of the Samian Hera. Yearly it was claimed that the 
 image disappeared from the temple, was fastened some- 
 Vvhere on the seashore on a trunk of a Lygos tree and 
 wound about with its branches. There it was " found," 
 and was treated with wedding-cake. This feast is un- 
 doubtedly a upo? yduo? (ritual marriage), because in 
 Samos there was a legend that Zeus had first had a long- 
 continued secret love relation with Hera. In Plataea 
 
274 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 and Argos, the marriage procession was represented with 
 bridesmaids, marriage feast, and so on. The festival took 
 place in the wedding month ^^ raixrjXiwv" (beginning of 
 February). But in Plataea the image was previously 
 carried into a lonely place in the wood; approximately 
 corresponding to the legend of Plutarch that Zeus had 
 kidnapped Hera and then had hidden her in a cave of 
 Cithaeron. According to our deductions, previously 
 made, we must conclude from this that there is still an- 
 other train of thought, namely, the magic charm of 
 rejuvenation, which is condensed in the Hierosgamos. 
 The disappearance and hiding in the wood, in the cave, 
 on the seashore, entwined in a willow tree, points to the 
 death of the sun and rebirth. The early springtime 
 raixrfXiGDv (the time of Marriage) in February fits in 
 with that very well. In fact, Pausanias informs us that 
 the Argivan Hera became a maiden again by a yearly 
 bath in the spring of Canathos. The significance of the 
 bath is emphasized by the information that in the 
 Plataeian cult of Hera Teleia, Tritonian nymphs appeared 
 as water-carriers. In a tale from the Iliad, where the 
 conjugal couch of Zeus upon Mount Ida is described, it is 
 said:'^ 
 
 " The son of Saturn spake, and took his wife 
 Into his arms, while underneath the pair, 
 The sacred Earth threw up her freshest herbs: 
 The dewy lotos, and the crocus-flower, 
 And thick and soft the hyacinth. All these 
 Upbore them from the ground. Upon this couch 
 They lay, while o'er them a bright golden cloud 
 Gathered and shed its drops of glistening dew. 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 275 
 
 So slumbered on the heights of Gargarus 
 The All-Father overcome by sleep and love, 
 And held his consort in his arms." 
 
 — Trans, by W. C. Bryant. 
 
 Drexler recognizes in this description an unmistakable 
 allusion to the garden of the gods on the extreme western 
 shore of the ocean, an idea which might have been taken 
 from a Prehomeric Hierosgamos hymn. This western 
 land is the land of the setting sun, whither Hercules, 
 Gilgamesh, etc., hasten with the sun, in order to find 
 there immortality, where the sun and the maternal sea 
 unite in an eternally rejuvenating intercourse. Our sup- 
 position of a condensation of the Hierosgamos with the 
 myth of rebirth is probably confirmed by this. Pausanias 
 mentions a related myth fragment where the statue of 
 Artemis Orthia is also called Lygodesma (chained with 
 " willows), because it was found in a willow tree; this tale 
 seems to be related to the general Greek celebration of 
 Hierosgamos with the above-mentioned customs. ^'^ 
 
 The motive of the "devouring" which Frobenius has 
 shown to be a regular constituent of the sun myths is 
 closely related to this (also metaphorically). The 
 "whale dragon" (mother's womb) always "devours" 
 the hero. The devouring may also be partial instead of 
 complete. 
 
 A six-year-old girl, who goes to school unwillingly, 
 dreams that her leg is encircled by a large red worm. 
 She had a tender interest for this creature, contrary to 
 what might be expected. An adult patient, who cannot 
 separate from an older friend on account of an extraordi- 
 
276 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 narily strong mother transference, dreams that " she had 
 to get across some deep water (typical Idea!) with this 
 friend; her friend fell in (mother transference) ; she 
 tries to drag her out, and almost succeeds, but a large 
 crab seizes on the dreamer by the foot and tries to pull 
 her in." 
 
 Etymology also confirms this conception : There is an 
 Indo-Germanic root velu-, vel-, with the meaning of " en- 
 circling, surrounding, turning." From this is derived 
 Sanskrit val^ valati = to cover, to surround, to encircle, 
 to encoil (symbol of the snake) ; vallt = creeping plant; 
 tiluta = boa-constrictor = Latin volutus, Lithuanian velu, 
 velti = wickeln (to roll up); Church Slavonian vlina =^ 
 Old High German, wella = Welle (wave or billow) . To 
 the root velu also belongs the root vivo, with the mean- 
 ing " cover, corium, womb." (The serpent on account of 
 its casting its skin is an excellent symbol of rebirth.) 
 Sanskrit ulva, ulba has the same meaning; Latin volva, 
 volvula, vulva. To velu also belongs the root ulvord, 
 with the meaning of " fruitful field, covering or husk 
 of plants, sheath." Sanskrit urvdrd = sown field. Zend 
 urvara = plant. (See the personification of the ploughed 
 furrow.) The same root vel has also the meaning of 
 " wallen " (to undulate) . Sanskrit ulmuka = conflagra- 
 tion. FaXea, FeXa, Gothic vulan = wallen (to undulate). 
 Old High German and Middle High German wahn = 
 heat, glow.**® It is typical that in the state of " involu- 
 tion " the hair of the sun-hero always falls out from the 
 heat. Further the root vel is found with the meaning 
 " to sound,*^^ and to will, to wish" (libido!). 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 277 
 
 The motive of encoiling is mother symbolism/" This 
 is verified by the fact that the trees, for example, bring 
 forth again (like the whale in the legend of Jonah). 
 They do that very generally, thus in the Greek legend 
 the MeXiai vvfxcpai* of the ash trees are the mothers of 
 the race of men of the Iron Age. In northern mythology, 
 Askr, the ash tree, is the primitive father. His wife, 
 Embla, is the " Emsige," the active one, and not, as was 
 earlier believed, the aspen. Askr probably means, in the 
 first place, the phallic spear of the ash tree. (Compare 
 the Sabine custom of parting the bride's hair with the 
 lance.) The Bundehesh symbolizes the first people, 
 Meschia and Meschiane, as the tree Reivas, one part of 
 which places a branch in a hole of the other part. The 
 material which, according to the northern myth, was ani- 
 mated by the god when he created men ^^ is designated 
 as tre = wood, tree.'^ I recall also vX7] = wood, which in 
 Latin is called materia. In the wood of the " world-ash," 
 Ygdrasil, a human pair hid themselves at the end of the 
 world, from whom sprang the race of the renewed 
 world. "^ The Noah motive is easily recognized in this 
 conception (the night journey on the sea) ; at the same 
 time, in the symbol of Ygdrasil, a mother idea is again 
 apparent. At the moment of the destruction of the world 
 the " world-ash " becomes the guardian mother, the tree 
 of death and life, one ^^iyuoXTtiovJ^^ ^* This function of 
 rebirth of the " world-ash " also helps to elucidate the 
 representation met with in the Egyptian Book of the 
 
 * Melian Virgins. t Pregnant. 
 
278 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Dead, which is called " the gate of knowledge of the 
 soul of the East " : 
 
 " I am the pilot in the holy keel, I am the steersman who allows 
 no rest in the ship of Ra.'^ I know that tree of emerald green 
 from whose midst Ra rises to the height of the clouds.'"* 
 
 Ship and tree of the dead (death ship and death tree) 
 are here closely connected. The conception is that Ra, 
 born from the tree, ascends (Osiris in the Erika). The 
 representation of the sun-god Mithra is probably ex- 
 plained in the same way. He is represented upon the 
 Heddernheim relief, with half his body arising from the 
 top of a tree. (In the same way numerous other monu- 
 ments show Mithra half embodied in the rock, and illus- 
 trate a rock birth, similar to Men.) Frequently there is 
 a stream near the birthplace of Mithra. This con- 
 glomeration of symbols is also found in the birth of 
 Aschanes, the first Saxon king, who grew from the Harz 
 rocks, which are in the midst of the wood ' ' near a foun- 
 _,.ta;in-"'\ Here we find all the mother symbols united — 
 earth, wood, water, three forms of tangible matter. We 
 can wonder no longer that in the Middle Ages the tree 
 was poetically addressed with the title of honor, " mis- 
 tress." Likewise it is not astonishing that the Christian 
 legend transformed the tree of death, the cross, into 
 the tree of life, so that Christ was often represented on 
 I a living and fruit-bearing tree. This reversion of the 
 / cross symbol to the tree of life, which even in Babylon 
 Lwas an important and authentic religious symbol, is also 
 considered entirely probable by Zockler," an authority 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 279 
 
 on the history of the cross. The pre-Christian meaning 
 of the symbol does not contradict this interpretation; on 
 the contrary, its meaning is life. The appearance of the 
 cross in the sun worship (here the cross with equal arms, 
 and the swastika cross, as representative of the sun's 
 rays), as well as in the cult of the goddess of love (Isis 
 with the crux ansata, the rope, the speculum veneris $ , 
 etc.), in no way contradicts the previous historical mean- 
 ing. The Christian legend has made abundant use of this 
 symbolism. 
 
 The student of mediaeval history is familiar with the 
 representation of the cross growing above the grave of 
 Adam. The legend was that Adam was buried on Gol- 
 gotha. Seth had planted on his grave a branch of the 
 " paradise tree," which became the cross and tree of 
 death of Christ.^** We all know that through Adam's 
 guilt sin and death came into the world, and Christ 
 through his death has redeemed us from the guilt. To 
 the question in what had Adam's guilt consisted it is said 
 that the unpardonable sin to be expiated by death was 
 that he dared to pick a fruit from the paradise tree.^^ 
 The results of this are described in an Oriental legend. 
 One to whom it was permitted to cast one look into 
 Paradise after the fall saw the tree there and the four 
 streams. But the tree was withered, and in its branches 
 lay an infant. (The mother had become pregnant.*^) 
 
 This remarkable legend corresponds to the Talmudic 
 tradition that Adam, before Eve, already possessed a 
 demon wife, by name Lilith, with whom he quarrelled for 
 mastership. But Lilith raised herself into the air through 
 
28o PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 the magic of the name of God and hid herself In the sea. 
 Adam forced her back with the help of three angels. ^^ 
 Lilith became a nightmare, a Lamia, who threatened those 
 with child and who kidnapped the newborn child. The 
 parallel myth is that of the Lamias, the spectres of the 
 night, who terrified the children. The original legend is 
 that Lamia enticed Zeus, but the jealous Hera, however, 
 caused Lamia to bring only dead children Into the world. 
 Since that time the raging Lamia is the persecutor of 
 children, whom she destroys wherever she can. This 
 motive frequently recurs in fairy tales, where the mother 
 often appears directly as a murderess or as a devourer 
 of men; ^* a German paradigm is the well-known tale of 
 Hansel and Gretel. Lamia is actually a large, voracious 
 fish, which establishes the connection with the whale- 
 dragon myth so beautifully worked out by Frobenius, in 
 which the sea monster devours the sun-hero for rebirth 
 and where the hero must employ every stratagem to con- 
 quer the monster. Here again we meet with the idea of 
 the " terrible mother " in the form of the voracious fish, 
 the mouth of death. ®^ In Frobenius there are numerous 
 examples where the monster has devoured not only men 
 but also animals, plants, an entire country, all of which 
 are redeemed by the hero to a glorious rebirth. 
 
 The Lamias are typical nightmares, the feminine nature 
 of which is abundantly proven.^® Their universal pecu- 
 liarity is that they ride upon their victims. Their coun- 
 terparts are the spectral horses which bear their riders 
 along in a mad gallop. One recognizes very easily in 
 these symbolic forms the type of anxious dream which, 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 281 
 
 as Rlklin shows," has already become Important for the 
 interpretation of fairy tales through the investigation of 
 Lalstner.^* The typical riding takes on a special aspect 
 through the results of the analytic investigation of in- 
 fantile psychology; the two contributions of Freud and 
 myself ^® have emphasized, on one side, the anxiety sig- 
 nificance of the horse, on the other side the sexual mean- 
 ing of the phantasy of riding. When we take these expe- 
 riences Into consideration, we need no longer be surprised 
 that the maternal " world-ash " Ygdrasll is called in Ger- 
 man " the frightful horse." Cannegleter ^° says of night- 
 mares: 
 
 " Abigunt eas nymphas (matres deas, mairas) hodie rustici osse 
 capitis equini tectis injecto, cujusmodi ossa per has terras in 
 rusticorum villis crebra est animadvertere. Nocte autem ad con- 
 cubia equitare creduntur et equos fatigare ad longinqua itinera." * 
 
 The connection of nightmare and horse seems, at first 
 glance, to be present also etymologically — nightmare and 
 mare. The Indo-Germanic root for mare is mark. 
 Mare is the horse, English mare; Old High German 
 mar ah (male horse) and meriha (female horse) ; Old 
 Norse merr {mara =^ mghtrnzre) ; Anglo-Saxon myre 
 (maira). The French " cauchmar " comes from calcare 
 = to tread, to step (of iterative meaning, therefore, " to 
 tread " or press down) . It was also said of the cock who 
 
 * Even to-day the country people drive off these nymphs (mother god- 
 desses, Maira) by throwing a bone of the head of a horse upon the roof — 
 bones of this kind can often be seen throughout the land on the farm- 
 houses of the country people. By night, however, they are believed to ride 
 at t'he time of the first sleep, and they are believed to tire out their horses 
 by long journeys. J 
 
282 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 stepped upon the hen. This movement is also typical for 
 the nightmare; therefore, it is said of King Vanlandi, 
 " Mara trad han," the Mara trod on him in sleep even to 
 death.''^ A synonym for nightmare is the " troll " or 
 " treter " ''^ (treader). This movement {calcare) is 
 proven again by the experience of Freud and myself with 
 children, where a special infantile sexual significance is 
 attached to stepping or kicking. 
 
 The common Aryan root mar means " to die "; there- 
 fore, mara the " dead " or " death." From this results 
 mors, /<opo? = fate (also pioipa^^) . As is well known, 
 the Nornes sitting under the " world-ash " personify fate 
 like Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos. With the Celts the 
 conception of the Fates probably passes into that of 
 maires and matrons, which had a divine significance 
 among the Germans. A well-known passage in Julius 
 Csesar (" De Bello Gallico," i: 50) informs us of this 
 meaning of the mother : 
 
 " Ut matres familias eorum sortibus et vaticinationibus ^* decla- 
 rarent, utrum prcelium committi ex usu esset, nee ne." * 
 
 In Slav mara means " witch " ; poln. mora = demon, 
 nightmare; mor or more (Swiss-German) means " sow," 
 also as an insult. The Bohemian miira means " night- 
 mare " and " evening moth, Sphinx." This strange con- 
 nection is explained through analysis where it often 
 occurs that animals with movable shells (Venus shell) or 
 wings are utilized for very transparent reasons as sym- 
 bols of the female genitals. ''^ The Sphingina are the twi- 
 
 * That these matrons should declare by lots whether it would be to their 
 advantage or not to engage in battle. 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 283 
 
 light moths; they, like the nightmare, come in the dark- 
 ness. Finally, it is to be observed that the sacred olive 
 tree of Athens is called " fxopia" (that was derived from 
 fxopos). Halirrhotios wished to cut down the tree, but 
 killed himself with the axe in the attempt. 
 The sound resemblance of mar, mere with meer — sea 
 and Latin mare = sea is remarkable, although etymologi- 
 cally accidental. Might it refer back to " the great primi- 
 tive idea of the mother " who, in the first place, meant to 
 us our individual world and afterwards became the sym- 
 bol of all worlds? Goethe said of the mothers: "They 
 are encircled by images of all creatures." The Chris- 
 tians, too, could not refrain from reuniting their mother 
 of God with water. " Ave Maris Stella " is the begin- 
 ning of a hymn to Mary. Then again it is the horses 
 of Neptune which symbolize the waves of the sea. It is 
 probably of importance that the infantile word ma-ma 
 (mother's breast) is repeated in its initial sound in all 
 possible languages, and that the mothers of two religious 
 heroes are called Mary and Maya. That the mother is 
 the horse of the child is to be seen most plainly in the 
 primitive custom of carrying the child on the back or let- 
 ting it ride on the hip. Odin hung on the " world- 
 ash," the mother, his " horse of terror." The Egyptian 
 sun-god sits on the back of his mother, the heavenly 
 cow. 
 
 We have already seen that, according to Egyptian con- 
 ceptions, Isis, the mother of god, played an evil trick on 
 the sun-god with the poisonous snake; also Isis behaved 
 treacherously toward her son Horus in Plutarch's tradi- 
 
284 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 tion. That Is, Horus vanquished the evil Typhon, who 
 murdered Osiris treacherously (terrible mother = Ty- 
 phon). Isis, however, set him free again. Horus there- 
 upon rebelled, laid hands on his mother and tore the regal 
 ornaments from her head, whereupon Hermes gave her 
 a cow's head. Then Horus conquered Typhon a second 
 time. Typhon, in the Greek legend, is a monstrous 
 dragon. Even without this confirmation it is evident that 
 the battle of Horus is the typical battle of the sun-hero 
 with the whale-dragon. Of the latter we know that it is 
 a symbol of the " dreadful mother," of the voracious 
 jaws of death, where men are dismembered and ground 
 up."® Whoever vanquishes this monster has gained a new 
 or eternal youth. For this purpose one must, in spite of 
 all dangers, descend into the belly of the monster " (jour- 
 ney to hell) and spend some time there. (Imprisonment 
 by night in the sea.) 
 
 The battle with the night serpent signifies, therefore, 
 the conquering of the mother, who is suspected of an in- 
 famous crime, that is, the betrayal of the son. A full 
 confirmation of the connection comes to us through the 
 fragment of the Babylonian epic of the creation, discov- 
 ered by George Smith, mostly from the library of Asur- 
 banipal. The period of the origin of the text was prob- 
 ably In the time of Hammurabi (2,000 B.C.). We 
 learn from this account of creation ^^ that the sun-god Ea, 
 the son of the depths of the waters and the god of wis- 
 dom,"'' had conquered Apsu. Apsu is the creator of the 
 great gods (he existed in the beginning in a sort of trinity 
 with Tiamat — the mother of gods and Mumu, his vizier). 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 285 
 
 Ea conquered the father, but Tiamat plotted revenge. 
 She prepared herself for battle against the gods. 
 
 " Mother Hubur, who created everything, 
 Procured invincible weapons, gave birth to giant snakes 
 With pointed teeth, relentless in every way; 
 Filled their bellies with poison instead of blood, 
 Furious gigantic lizards, clothed them with horrors. 
 Let them swell with the splendor of horror, formed them rearing, 
 Whoever sees them shall die of terror. 
 Their bodies shall rear without turning to escape. 
 She arrayed the lizards, dragons and Lahamen, 
 Hurricanes, mad dogs, scorpion men. 
 Mighty storms, fishmen and rams. 
 With relentless weapons, without fear of conflict, 
 Powerful are Tiamat's commands, irresistible are they. 
 
 " After Tiamat had powerfully done her work 
 She conceived evil against the gods, her descendants; 
 In order to revenge Apsu, Tiamat did evil. 
 When Ea now heard this thing 
 
 He became painfully anxious, sorrowfully he sat himself. 
 He went to the father, his creator, Ansar, 
 To relate to him all that Tiamat plotted. 
 Tiamat, our mother, has taken an aversion to us. 
 Has prepared a riotous mob, furiously raging." 
 
 The gods finally opposed Marduk, the god of spring, 
 the victorious sun, against the fearful host of Tiamat. 
 Marduk prepared for battle. Of his chief weapon, which 
 he created, it is said: 
 
 " He created the evil wind, ImhuUu, the south storm and the 
 hurricane. 
 The fourth wind, the seventh wind, the whirlwind and the 
 
 harmful wind, 
 Then let he loose the winds, which he had created, the seven: 
 To cause confusion within Tiamat, they followed behind him, 
 
286 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Then the lord took up the cyclone, his great weapon; 
 For his chariot he mounted the stormwind, the incomparable, 
 the terrible one." 
 
 His chief weapon is the wind and a net, with which he 
 will entangle Tiamat. He approaches Tiamat and chal- 
 lenges her to a combat. 
 
 " Then Tiamat and Marduk, the wise one of the gods, came to- 
 gether, 
 Rising for the fight, approaching to the battle: 
 Then the lord spread out his net and caught her. 
 He let loose the Imhullu in his train at her face, 
 Then Tiamat now opened her mouth as wide as she could. 
 He let the Imljullu rush in so that her lips could not close; 
 With the raging winds he filled her womb. 
 Her inward parts were seized and she opened wide her mouth. 
 He touched her with the spear, dismembered her body. 
 He slashed her inward parts, and cut out her heart. 
 Subdued her and put an end to her life. 
 He threw down her body and stepped upon it." 
 
 After Marduk slew the mother, he devised the crea- 
 tion of the world. 
 
 " There the lord rested contemplating her body. 
 Then divided he the Colossus, planning wisely. 
 He cut it apart like a flat fish, into two parts,^°° 
 One half he took and with it he covered the Heavens." 
 
 In this manner Marduk created the universe from the 
 mother. It is clearly evident that the killing of the 
 mother-dragon here takes place under the idea of a wind 
 fecundation with negative accompaniments. 
 
 The world is created from the mother, that is to say, 
 from the libido taken away from the mother through sac- 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 287 
 
 rifice. We shall have to consider this significant formula 
 more closely in the last chapter. The most interesting 
 parallels to this primitive myth are to be found in the 
 literature of the Old Testament, as Gunkel "^ has bril- 
 liantly pointed out. It is worth while to trace the psy- 
 chology of these parallels. 
 
 Isaiah li : 9 : 
 
 (9) "Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord; 
 awake as in the ancient days, in the generation of old. Art thou 
 not it that hath cut Rahab, and wounded the dragon? 
 
 (10) " Art thou not it which hath dried the sea, the waters of 
 the great deep, that hath made the depths of the sea a way for 
 the ransomed to pass over?" 
 
 The name of Rahab is frequently used for Egypt in 
 the Old Testament, also dragon. Isaiah, chapter xxx, 
 verse 7, calls Egypt " the silent Rahab," and means, 
 therefore, something evil and hostile. Rahab is the well- 
 known whore of Jericho, who later, as the wife of Prince 
 Salma, became the ancestress of Christ. Here Rahab 
 appeared as the old dragon, as Tiamat, against whose 
 evil power Marduk, or Jehovah, marched forth. The 
 expression " the ransomed " refers to the Jews freed 
 from bondage, but it is also mythological, for the hero 
 again frees those previously devoured by the whale. 
 (Frobenius.) 
 
 Psalm Ixxxix: 10: 
 
 " Thou hast broken Rahab in pieces, as one that is slain." 
 
 Job xxvi: 12-13 : 
 
 " He divideth the sea with his power, and by his understanding 
 he smiteth through the proud. 
 
288 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 " By his spirit he hath garnished the heavens, his hand hath 
 formed the crooked serpent." 
 
 Gunkel places Rahab as identical with Chaos, that is, 
 the same as Tiamat. Gunkel translates " the breaking to 
 pieces " as " violation." Tiamat or Rahab as the mother 
 is also the whore. Gilgamesh treats Ischtar in this way 
 when he accuses her of whoredom. This insult towards 
 the mother is very familiar to us from dream analysis. 
 The dragon Rahab appears also as Leviathan, the water 
 monster (maternal sea). 
 
 Psalm Ixxiv: 
 
 (13) " Thou didst divide the sea by thy strength: thou brakest 
 the heads of the dragons in the waters. 
 
 (14) "Thou brakest the heads of Leviathan in pieces and 
 gavest him to be meat to the people inhabiting the wilderness. 
 
 (15) "Thou didst cleave the fountain and the flood: thou 
 didst dry up mighty rivers." 
 
 While only the phallic meaning of the Leviathan was 
 emphasized in the first part of this work, we now discover 
 also the maternal meaning. A further parallel is: 
 
 Isaiah xxvii : i : 
 
 " In that day, the Lord with his cruel and great and strong 
 sword shall punish Leviathan, the piercing serpent, even Leviathan 
 that crooked serpent, and he shall slay the dragon that is in the 
 sea." 
 
 We come upon a special motive in Job, chap, xli, v. i : 
 
 " Canst thou draw out Leviathan with an hook? or his tongue 
 with a cord which thou lettest down? Canst thou put an hook 
 in his nose? or bore his jaw through with a thorn? " 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 289 
 
 Numerous parallels to this motive are to be found 
 among exotic myths in Frobenius, where the maternal sea 
 monster was also fished for. The comparison of the 
 mother libido with the elementary powers of the sea 
 and the powerful monsters borne by the earth show how 
 invincibly great is the power of that libido which we des- 
 ignate as maternal. 
 
 We have already seen that the incest prohibition pre- 
 vents the son from reproducing himself through the 
 mother. But this must be done by the god, as is shown 
 with remarkable clearness and candor in the pious Egyp- 
 tian mythology, which has preserved the most ancient and 
 simple concepts. Thus Chnum, the " moulder," the 
 " potter," the " architect," moulds his egg upon the pot- 
 ter's wheel, for he is " the immortal growth," " the re- 
 production of himself and his own rebirth, the creator of 
 the egg, which emerged from the primitive waters." In 
 the Book, of the Dead it says : 
 
 "I am the sublime falcon (the Sun-god), which has come 
 forth from his egg." 
 
 Another passage in the Book of the Dead reads: 
 
 " I am the creator of Nun, who has taken his place in the 
 underworld. My nest is not seen and my egg is not broken." 
 
 A further passage reads : 
 
 " that great and noble god in his egg: who is his own originator 
 of that which has arisen from him." ^°^ 
 
 Therefore, the god Nagaga-uer is also called the 
 " great cackler." (Book of the Dead.) " I cackle like 
 
 y 
 
290 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 a goose and I whistle like a falcon." The mother is re- 
 proached with the incest prohibition as an act of wilful 
 maliciousness by which she excludes the son from immor- 
 tality. Therefore, a god must at least rebel, overpower 
 and chastise the mother. (Compare Adam and Lilith, 
 above.) The "overpowering" signifies incestuous 
 rape.^"^ Herodotus ^"^ has preserved for us a valuable 
 fragment of this religious phantasy. 
 
 " And how they celebrate their feast to Isis in the city of 
 Busiris, I have already previously remarked. After the sacrifice, 
 all of them, men and women, full ten thousand people, begin to 
 beat each other. But it would be sin for me to mention for whom 
 they do beat each other. 
 
 " But in Papremis they celebrated the sacrifice with holy actions, 
 as in the other places. About the time when the sun sets, some 
 few priests are busy around the image; most of them stand at 
 the entrance with wooden clubs, and others who would fulfil a 
 vow, more than a thousand men, also stand in a group with 
 wooden cudgels opposite them. 
 
 " Now on the eve of the festival, they take the image out in 
 a small and gilded temple into another sacred edifice. Then the 
 few who remain with the image draw a four-wheeled chariot upon 
 which the temple stands with the image which it encloses. But 
 the others who stand in the anterooms are not allowed to enter. 
 Those under a vow, who stand by the god, beat them off. Now 
 occurs a furious battle with clubs, in which they bruise each other's 
 bodies and as I believe, many even die from their wounds: not- 
 withstanding this, the Egyptians consider that none die. 
 
 " The natives claim that this festival gathering was introduced 
 for the following reason: In this sanctuary lived the mother of 
 Ares.^°^ Now Ares was brought up abroad and when he became 
 a man he came to have intercourse with his mother. The servants 
 of his mother who had seen him did not allow him to enter peace- 
 fully, but prevented him ; at which he fetched people from an- 
 other city, who mistreated the servants and had entrance to h^s 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 291 
 
 mother. Therefore, they asserted that this slaughter was intro- 
 duced at the feast for Ares." 
 
 It is evident that the pious here fight their way to a share 
 in the mystery of the raping of the mother."** This is the 
 part which belongs to them/°^ while the heroic deed be- 
 longs to thegod.^°® ByAres is meant the, Egyptian Typhon, 
 as we have good reasons to suppose. Thus Typhon rep- 
 resents the evil longing for the mother with which other 
 myth forms reproach the mother, according to the well- 
 known example. The death of Balder, quite analogous 
 to the death of Osiris (attack of sickness of Re) , because 
 of the wounding by the branch of the mistletoe, seems to 
 need a similar explanation. It is recounted in the myth 
 how all creatures were pledged not to hurt Balder, save 
 only the mistletoe, which was forgotten, presumably be- 
 cause it was too young. This killed Balder. Mistletoe 
 is a parasite. The female piece of wood in the fire-boring 
 ritual was obtained "^ from the wood of a parasitical or 
 creeping plant, the fire mother. The " mare " rests upon 
 " Marentak," in which Grimm suspects the mistletoe. 
 The mistletoe was a remedy against barrenness. In Gaul 
 the Druid alone was allowed to climb the holy oak amid 
 solemn ceremonies after the completed sacrifice, in order 
 to cut off the ritual mistletoe. "° This act is a religiously 
 limited and organized incest. That which grows on the 
 tree is the child, ^^^ which man might have by the mother; 
 then man himself would be in a renewed and rejuvenated 
 form; and precisely this is what man cannot have, because 
 the incest prohibition forbids it. As the Celtic custom 
 shows, the act is performed by the priest only, with the 
 
292 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 observation of certain ceremonies; the hero god and the 
 redeemer of the world, however, do the unpermitted, the 
 superhuman thing, and through it purchase immortality. 
 The dragon, who must be overcome for this purpose, 
 means, as must have been for some time clearly seen, the 
 resistance against the incest. Dragon and serpent, espe- 
 cially with the characteristic accumulation of anxiety at- 
 tributes, are the symbolic representations of anxiety 
 which correspond to the repressed incest wish. It is, 
 therefore, intelligible, when we come across the tree with 
 the snake again and again (in Paradise the snake even 
 tempts to sin). The snake or dragon possesses in par- 
 ticular the meaning of treasure guardian and defender. 
 The phallic, as well as the feminine, meaning of the 
 dragon "- indicates that it is again a symbol of the sexual 
 neutral (or bisexual) libido, that is to say, a symbol of the 
 libido in opposition. In this significance the black horse, 
 Apaosha, the demon of opposition, appears in the old 
 Persian song, Tishtriya, where it obstructs the sources 
 of the rain lake. The white horse Tishtriya makes two 
 futile attempts to vanquish Apaosha; at the third attempt, 
 with the help of Ahuramazda, he is successful. "'' Where- 
 upon the sluices of heaven open and a fruitful rain pours 
 down upon the earth."* In this song one sees very beau- 
 tifully In the choice of symbol how libido is opposed to 
 libido, will against will, the discordance of primitive man 
 with himself, which he recognizes again in all the ad- 
 versity and contrasts of external nature. 
 
 The symbol of the tree encoiled by the serpent may 
 also be translated as the mother defended from incest 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 293 
 
 by resistance. This symbol is by no means rare upon 
 Mithraic monuments. The rock encircled by a snake is 
 to be comprehended similarly, because Mithra is one 
 born from a rock. The menace of the new-born by the 
 snake (Mithra, Hercules) is made clear through the 
 legend of Lilith and Lamia. Python, the dragon of Leto, 
 and Poine, who devastates the land of Crotopus, are sent 
 by the father of the new-born. This idea indicates the 
 localization, well known in psychoanalysis, of the incest 
 anxiety in the father. The father represents the active 
 repulse of the incest wish of the son. The crime, un- 
 consciously wished for by the son, is imputed to the father 
 under the guise of a pretended murderous purpose, this 
 being the cause of the mortal fear of the son for the 
 father, a frequent neurotic symptom. In conformity with 
 this idea, the monster to be overcome by the young hero 
 is frequently a giant, the guardian of the treasure or the 
 woman. A striking example is the giant Chumbaba in 
 the Gilgamesh epic, who protected the garden of 
 Ishtar; "^ he is overcome by Gilgamesh, whereby Ishtar 
 is won. Thereupon she makes erotic advances towards 
 Gilgamesh."" This data should be sufficient to render 
 intelligible the role of Horus in Plutarch, especially the 
 violent usage of Isis. Through overpowering the mother 
 the hero becomes equal to the sun; he reproduces him- 
 self. He wins the strength of the invincible sun, the 
 power of eternal rejuvenation. We thus understand a 
 series of representations from the Mithraic myth on the 
 Heddernheim relief. There we see, first of all, the birth 
 of Mithra from the top of the tree; the next representa- 
 
294 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 tion shows him carrying the conquered bull (comparable 
 to the monstrous bull overcome by Gilgamesh). This 
 bull signifies the concentrated significance of the monster, 
 the father, who as giant and dangerous animal embodies 
 the incest prohibition, and agrees with the individual 
 libido of the sun-hero, which he overcomes by self-sacri- 
 fice. The third picture represents Mithra, when he 
 grasps the head ornament of the sun, the nimbus. This 
 act recalls to us, first of all, the violence of Horus towards 
 Isis; secondly, the Christian basic thought, that those who 
 have overcome attain the crown of eternal life. On the 
 fourth picture Sol kneels before Mithra. These last two 
 representations show plainly that Mithra has taken to 
 himself the strength of the sun, so that he becomes the 
 lord of the sun as well. He has conquered " his animal 
 nature," the bull. The animal knows no incest prohibi- 
 tion; man is, therefore, man because he conquers the 
 incest wish, that is, the animal nature. Thus Mithra has 
 sacrificed his animal nature, the incest wish, and with that 
 has overcome the mother, that is to say, " the terrible 
 death-bringing mother." A solution is already antici- 
 pated in the Gilgamesh epic through the formal renuncia- 
 tion of the horrible Ishtar by the hero. The overcoming 
 of the mother in the Mithraic sacrifice, which had almost 
 an ascetic character, took place no longer by the archaic 
 overpowering, but through the renunciation, the sacrifice 
 of the wish. The primitive thought of incestuous repro- 
 duction through entrance into the mother's womb had 
 already been displaced, because man was so far advanced 
 In domestication that he believed that the eternal life of 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 295 
 
 the sun is reached, not through the perpetration of incest, 
 but through the sacrifice of the incest wish. This impor- 
 tant change expressed in the Mithraic mystery finds its 
 full expression for the first time in the symbol of the 
 crucified God. A bleeding human sacrifice was hung on 
 the tree of life for Adam's sins."^ The first-born sacri- 
 fices its life to the mother when he suffers, hanging on the 
 branch, a disgraceful and painful death, a mode of death 
 which belongs to the most ignominious forms of execution, 
 which Roman antiquity had reserved for only the lowest 
 criminal. Thus the hero dies, as if he had committed the 
 most shameful crime; he does this by returning into the 
 birth-giving branch of the tree of life, at the same time 
 paying for his guilt with the pangs of death. The animal 
 nature is repressed most powerfully in this deed of the 
 highest courage and the greatest renunciation; therefore, 
 a greater salvation is to be expected for humanity, be- 
 
 j cause such a deed alone seems appropriate to expiate 
 
 |_Adam's guilt. 
 
 As has already been mentioned, the hanging of the 
 sacrifice on the tree is a generally widespread ritual cus- 
 tom, Germanic examples being especially abundant. The 
 ritual consists in the sacrifice being pierced by a spear.^^^ 
 Thus it is said of Odin (Edda, Havamal) : 
 
 " I know that I hung on the windswept tree 
 Nine nights through, 
 Wounded by a spear, dedicated to Odin 
 I myself to myself." 
 
 The hanging of the sacrifice to the cross also occurred 
 in America prior to its discovery. Miiller ^^^ mentions the 
 
296 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Fejervaryian manuscript (a Mexican hieroglyphic kodex), 
 at the conclusion of which there is a colossal cross, in the 
 middle of which there hangs a bleeding divinity. Equally 
 interesting is the cross of Palenque ; ^-'^ up above is a 
 bird, on either side two human figures, who look at the 
 cross and hold a child against it either for sacrifice or 
 baptism. The old Mexicans are said to have invoked the 
 favor of Centeotls, " the daughter of heaven and the 
 goddess of wheat," every spring by nailing upon the cross 
 a youth or a maiden and by shooting the sacrifice with 
 arrows. ^"^ The name of the Mexican cross signifies 
 " tree of our life or flesh." ^" 
 
 An effigy from the Island of Philae represents Osiris 
 in the form of a crucified god, wept over by Isis and 
 Nephthys, the sister consort.^"^ 
 
 The meaning of the cross is certainly not limited to 
 the tree of life, as has already been shown. Just as the 
 tree of life has also a phallic sub-meaning (as libido sym- 
 bol), so there is a further significance to the cross than 
 life and immortality.^-* Miiller uses it as a sign of rain 
 and of fertility, because it appears among the Indians 
 distinctly as a magic charm of fertility. It goes without 
 saying, therefore, that it plays a role in the sun cult. It 
 is also noteworthy that the sign of the cross is an impor- 
 tant sign for the keeping away of all evil, like the ancient 
 gesture of Manofica. The phallic amulets also serve the 
 same purpose. Zockler appears to have overlooked the 
 fact that the phallic Crux Ansata is the same cross which 
 has flourished in countless examples in the soil of an- 
 tiquity. Copies of this Crux Ansata are found in many 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 297 
 
 places, and almost every collection of antiquities pos- 
 sesses one or more specimens/"^ 
 
 Finally, it must be mentioned that the form of the 
 human body is imitated in the cross as of a man with 
 arms outspread. It is remarkable that in early Christian 
 representations Christ is not nailed to the cross, but 
 stands before it with arms outstretched/"*^ Maurice ^-^ 
 gives a striking basis for this interpretation when he says : 
 
 " It is a fact not less remarkable than well attested, that the 
 Druids in their groves were accustomed to select the most stately 
 and beautiful tree as an emblem of the deity they adored, and 
 cutting off the side branches, they affixed two of the largest of 
 them to the highest part of the trunk, in such a manner that those 
 branches extended on each side like the arms of a man, and to- 
 gether with the body presented the appearance of a huge cross; 
 and in the bark in several places was also inscribed the letter T 
 (tau)."^2« 
 
 " The tree of knowledge " of the Hindoo Dschaina 
 sect assumes human form; it was represented as a mighty, 
 thick trunk in the form of a human head, from the top 
 of which grew out two longer branches hanging down at 
 the sides and one short, vertical, uprising branch crowned 
 by a bud or blossom-like thickening.^"^ Robertson in 
 his " Evangelical Myths " mentions that In the Assyrian 
 system there exists the representation of the divinity in 
 the form of a cross, in which the vertical beam corre- 
 sponds to a human form and the horizontal beam to a 
 pair of conventionalized wings. Old Grecian idols such, 
 for example, as were found in large numbers in Aegina 
 have a similar character, an immoderately long head and 
 
298 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 arms slightly raised, wing-shaped, and In front distinct 
 breasts/"** 
 
 I must leave It an open question as to whether the 
 symbol of the cross has any relation to the two pieces 
 of wood In the religious fire production, as is frequently 
 claimed. It does appear, however, as if the cross symbol 
 actually still possessed the significance of " union," for 
 this Idea belongs to the fertility charm, and especially to 
 the thought of eternal rebirth, which is most Intimately 
 bound up with the cross. The thought of " union," ex- 
 pressed by the symbol of the cross, is met with in 
 " TImaios " of Plato, where the world soul Is conceived 
 as stretched out between heaven and earth in the form 
 of an X (Chi) ; hence In the form of a " St. Andrew's 
 cross." When we now learn, furthermore, that the 
 world soul contains In Itself the world as a body, then this 
 picture inevitably reminds us of the mother. 
 
 {Dialogues of Plato. Jowett, Vol. II, page 528.) 
 " And in the center he put the soul, which he diffused through 
 the whole, and also spread over all the body round about, and 
 he made one solitary and only heaven, a circle moving in a circle, 
 having such excellence as to be able to hold converse with itself, 
 and needing no other friendship or acquaintance. Having these 
 purposes in view he created the world to be a blessed god." 
 
 This highest degree of inactivity and freedom from 
 desire, symbolized by the being enclosed within itself, sig- 
 nifies divine blessedness. The only human prototype of 
 this conception is the child in the mother's womb, or 
 rather more, the adult man In the continuous embrace of 
 the mother, from whom he originates. Corresponding to 
 
 I 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 299 
 
 this mythologic-philosophic conception, the enviable Dio- 
 genes inhabited a tub, thus giving mythologic expression 
 to the blessedness and resemblance to the Divine in his 
 freedom from desire. Plato says as follows of the bond 
 of the world soul to the world body : 
 
 " Now God did not make the soul after the body, although we 
 have spoken of them in this order ; for when he put them together 
 he would never have allowed that the elder should serve the 
 younger, but this is what we say at random, because we ourselves 
 too are very largely affected by chance. Whereas he made the 
 soul in origin and excellence prior to and older than the body, 
 to be the ruler and mistress, of whom the body was to be the 
 subject." 
 
 It seems conceivable from other indications that the 
 conception of the soul in general is a derivative of the 
 mother-imago, that is to say, a symbolic designation for 
 the amount of libido remaining in the mother-imago. 
 (Compare the Christian representation of the soul as the 
 bride of Christ.) The further development of the world 
 soul in " Timaios " takes place in an obscure fashion in 
 mystic numerals. When the mixture was completed the 
 following occurred: 
 
 " This entire compound he divided lengthways into two parts, 
 which he joined to one another at the center like the figure of 
 an X." 
 
 This passage approaches very closely the division and 
 union of Atman, who, after the division, is compared to 
 a man and a woman who hold each other in an embrace. 
 Another passage is worth mentioning: 
 
300 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 " After the entire union of the soul had taken place, according 
 to the master's mind, he formed all that is corporeal within this, 
 and joined it together so as to penetrate it throughout." 
 
 Moreover, I refer to my remarks about the maternal 
 meaning of the world soul in Plotinus, in Chapter II. 
 
 A similar detachment of the symbol of the cross from a 
 concrete figure we find among the Muskhogean Indians, 
 who stretch above the surface of the water (pond or 
 stream) two ropes crosswise and at the point of intersec- 
 tion throw into the water fruits, oil and precious stones as 
 a sacrifice. ^^^ Here the divinity is evidently the water, not 
 the cross, which designates the place of sacrifice only, 
 through the point of intersection. The sacrifice at the 
 place of union indicates why this symbol was a primitive 
 charm of fertility,^"^ why we meet it so frequently in the 
 prechristian era among the goddesses of love (mother 
 goddesses), especially among the Egyptians in Isis and 
 the sun-god. We have already discussed the continuous 
 union of these two divinities. As the cross (Tau [T], 
 Crux Ansata) always recurs in the hand of Tum, the 
 supreme God, the hegemon of the Ennead, it may not be 
 superfluous to say something more of the destination of 
 Tum. The Tum of On-Heliopolis bears the name " the 
 father of his mother"; what that means needs no ex- 
 planation; Jusas or Nebit-Hotpet, the goddess joined to 
 him, was called sometimes the mother, sometimes the 
 daughter, sometimes the wife of the god. The day of 
 the beginning of autumn is designated in the Heliopolitan 
 inscriptions as the " festival of the goddess Jusasit," as 
 " the arrival of the sister for the purpose of uniting with 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 301 
 
 her father." It Is the day in which " the goddess Mehnit 
 completes her work, so that the god Osiris may enter 
 Into the left eye." (By which the moon Is meant.^"") 
 The day Is also called the filling up of the sacred eye 
 with Its needs. The heavenly cow with the moon eye, 
 the cow-headed Isis, takes to herself In the autumn 
 equinox the seed which procreates Horus. (Moon as 
 keeper of the seed.) The " eye " evidently represents 
 the genitals, as In the myth of Indra, who had to bear 
 spread over his whole body the likeness of Yoni (vulva), 
 on account of a Bathsheba outrage, but was so far par- 
 doned by the gods that the disgraceful likeness of YonI 
 was changed Into eyes.^^* The " pupil " In the eye is a 
 child. The great god becomes a child again; he enters 
 the mother's womb In order to renew himself."^ In a 
 hymn it is said: 
 
 " Thy mother, the heavens, stretches forth her arms to thee." 
 
 In another place It Is said: 
 
 " Thou shinest, oh father of the gods, upon the back of thy 
 mother, daily thy mother takes thee in her arms. When thou 
 illuminatest the dwelling of night, thou unitest with thy mother, 
 the heavens.""*' 
 
 The Tum of PItum-HellopolIs not only bears the Crux 
 Ansata as a symbol, but also has this sign as his most 
 frequent surname, that is, anX or anli, which means 
 " life " or " the living." He is chiefly honored as the 
 demon serpent, Agatho, of whom it is said, " The holy 
 demon serpent Agatho goes forth from the city Nezi." 
 The snake, on account of casting its skin. Is the symbol 
 
302 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 of renewal, as is the scarabaeus, a symbol of the sun, of 
 whom it is said that he, being of masculine sex only, re- 
 produces himself. 
 
 The name Chnum (another name for Tum, always 
 meaning "the sun-god") comes from the verb ;i:num, 
 which means " to bind together, to unite." ^" Chnum 
 appears chiefly as the potter, the moulder of his egg. 
 The cross seems, therefore, to be an extraordinarily con- 
 densed symbol; its supreme meaning is that of the tree 
 of life, and, therefore, is a symbol of the mother. The 
 symbolization in a human form is, therefore, intelligible. 
 The phallic forms of the Crux Ansata belong to the ab- 
 stract meaning of " life " and " fertility," as well as to 
 the meaning of " union," which we can now very properly 
 interpret as cohabitation with the mother for the purpose 
 of renewal.^^^ It is, therefore, not only a very touching 
 but also a very significant naive symbolism when Mary, 
 in an Old English lament of the Virgin, ^^^ accuses the cross 
 of being a false tree, which unjustly and without reason 
 destroyed " the pure fruit of her body, her gentle bird- 
 ling," with a poisonous draught, the draught of death, 
 which is destined only for the guilty descendants of the 
 sinner Adam. Her son was not a sharer in that guilt. 
 (Compare with this the cunning of Isis with the fatal 
 draught of love.) Mary laments : 
 
 " Cross, thou art the evil stepmother of my son, so high hast 
 thou hung him that 1 cannot even kiss his feet! Cross, thou art 
 my mortal enemy, thou hast slain my little blue bird! " 
 
 The holy cross answers : 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 303 
 
 " Woman, I thank thee for my honor: thy splendid fruit, which 
 now I bear, shines as a red blossom. ^'"^ Not alone to save thee 
 but to save the whole world this precious flower blooms in thee." ^*^ 
 
 Santa Crux says of the relation to each other of the 
 two mothers (Isis in the morning and Isis in the even- 
 ing) : 
 
 " Thou hast been crowned as Queen of Heaven on account of 
 the child, which thou hast borne. But I shall appear as the shining 
 relic to the whole world, at the day of judgment. I shall then 
 raise my lament for thy divine son innocently slain upon me." 
 
 Thus the murderous mother of death unites with the 
 mother of life in bringing forth a child. In their lament 
 for the dying God, and as outward token of their union, 
 Mary kisses the cross, and is reconciled to it."" The 
 naive Egyptian antiquity has preserved for us the union 
 of the contrasting tendencies in the mother idea of Isis. 
 Naturally this imago is merely a symbol of the libido of 
 the son for the mother, and describes the conflict be- 
 tween love and incest resistance. The criminal incestuous 
 purpose of the son appears projected as criminal cunning 
 in the mother-imago. The separation of the son from 
 the mother signifies the separation of man from the 
 generic consciousness of animals, from that infantile 
 archaic thought characterized by the absence of individual 
 consciousness. 
 
 It was only the power of the incest prohibition which 
 created the self-conscious individual, who formerly had 
 been thoughtlessly one with the tribe, and in this way 
 alone did the idea of individual and final death become 
 
304 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 possible. Thus through the sin of Adam death came into 
 the world. This, as is evident, is expressed figuratively, 
 that is, in contrast form. The mother's defence against 
 the incest appears to the son as a malicious act, which 
 delivers him over to the fear of death. This conflict faces 
 us in the Gilgamesh epic in its original freshness and 
 passion, where also the incest wish is projected onto the 
 mother. 
 
 The neurotic who cannot leave the mother has good 
 reasons; the fear of death holds him there. It seems as 
 if no idea and no word were strong enough to express 
 the meaning of this. Entire religions were constructed 
 in order to give words to the immensity of this conflict. 
 This struggle for expression which continued down 
 through the centuries certainly cannot have its source 
 in the restricted realm of the vulgar conception of incest. 
 Rather one must understand the law which is ultimately 
 expressed as " Incest prohibition " as coercion to domes- 
 tication, and consider the religious systems as institutions 
 which first receive, then organize and gradually sublimate, 
 the motor forces of the animal nature not immediately 
 available for cultural purposes. 
 
 We will now return to the visions of Miss Miller. 
 Those now following need no further detailed discussion. 
 The next vision is the image of a " purple bay." The 
 symbolism of the sea connects smoothly with that which 
 precedes. One might think here in addition of the 
 reminiscences of the Bay of Naples, which we came across 
 in Part I. In the sequence of the whole, however, we 
 must not overlook the significance of the '* bay." In 
 
SYMBOLISM OF MOTHER AND OF REBIRTH 305 
 
 French It is called une bate, which probably corre- 
 sponds to a bay in the English text. It might be worth 
 while here to glance at the etymological side of this 
 Idea. Bay is generally used for something which is open, 
 just as the Catalonian word badia (bai) comes from 
 badar, " to open." In French bayer means " to have the 
 mouth open, to gape." Another word for the same Is 
 Meerbusen, " bay or gulf " ; Latin sinus, and a third word 
 is golf (gulf), which In French stands in closest relation 
 to gouffre = abyss. Golf Is derived from ^' jioXnoi,''^ "^ 
 which also means " bosom " and " womb," " mother- 
 womb," also " vagina." It can also mean a fold of a 
 dress or pocket; It may also mean a deep valley between 
 high mountains. These expressions clearly show what 
 primitive ideas lie at their base. They render intelligible 
 Goethe's choice of words at that place where Faust wishes 
 to follow the sun with winged desire In order in the ever- 
 lasting day " to drink Its eternal light " : 
 
 " The mountain chain with all its gorges deep, 
 Would then no more impede my godlike motion; 
 And now before mine eyes expands the ocean, 
 With all its bays, in shining sleep ! " 
 
 Faust's desire, like that of every hero, Inclines towards 
 the mysteries ot rebirth, of immortality; therefore, his 
 course leads to the sea, and down Into the monstrous 
 jaws of death, the horror and narrowness of which at 
 the same time signify the new day. 
 
 " Out on the open ocean speeds my dreaming: 
 The glassy flood before my feet is gleaming, 
 A new day beckons to a newer shore! 
 
3o6 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 A fiery chariot borne on buoyant pinions, 
 Sweeps near me now! I soon shall ready be 
 To pierce the ether's high, unknown dominions, 
 To reach new spheres of pure activity! 
 This Godlike rapture, this supreme existence. . . . 
 
 " Yes, let me dare those gates to fling asunder, 
 Which every man would fain go slinking by! 
 'Tis time, through deeds this word of truth to thunder; 
 That with the height of God's Man's dignity may vie! 
 Nor from that gloomy gulf to shrink affrighted. 
 Where fancy doth herself to self-born pangs compel, — 
 To struggle toward that pass benighted. 
 Around whose narrow mouth flame all the fires of Hell: — 
 To take this step with cheerful resolution. 
 Though Nothingness should be the certain swift conclusion ! '* 
 
 It sounds like a confirmation, when the succeeding vision 
 of Miss Miller's is une falaise a pic, " a steep, precipi- 
 tous cliff." (Compare goiiffre.) The entire series of 
 individual visions is completed, as the author observes, 
 by a confusion of sounds, somewhat resembling " wa-ma, 
 wa-ma." This has a very primitive, barbaric sound. 
 Since we learn from the author nothing of the subjective 
 roots of this sound, nothing Is left us but the suspicion 
 that this sound might be considered, taken in connection 
 with the whole, as a slight mutilation of the well-known 
 call ma-ma. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE FROM 
 THE MOTHER 
 
 There now comes a pause In the production of visions 
 by Miss Miller; then the activity of the unconscious Is 
 resumed very energetically. 
 
 A forest with trees and bushes appears. 
 
 After the discussions in the preceding chapter, there Is 
 need only of a hint that the symbol of the forest coincides 
 essentially with the meaning of the holy tree. The holy 
 tree is found generally in a sacred forest inclosure or in 
 the garden of Paradise. The sacred grove often takes 
 the place of the taboo tree and assumes all the attributes 
 of the latter. The erotic symbolism of the garden is 
 generally known. The forest, like the tree, has mytho- 
 logically a maternal significance. In the vision which now 
 follows, the forest furnishes the stage upon which the 
 dramatic representation of the end of Chiwantopel is 
 played. This act, therefore, takes place in or near the 
 mother. 
 
 First, I will give the beginning of the drama as it Is In 
 the original text, up to the first attempt at sacrifice. At 
 the beginning of the next chapter the reader will find the 
 continuation, the monologue and the sacrificial scene. 
 The drama begins as follows : 
 
 307 
 
3o8 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 " The personage Chiwantopel, came from the south, on horse- 
 back; around him a cloak of vivid colors, red, blue and white. An 
 Indian in a costume of doe skin, covered with beads and ornamented 
 v/ith feathers advances, squats down and prepares to let fly an 
 arrow at Chiwantopel. The latter presents his breast in an attitude 
 of defiance, and the Indian, fascinated by that sight, slinks away 
 and disappears within the forest." 
 
 The hero, Chiwantopel, appears on horseback. This 
 fact seems of Importance, because as the further course 
 of the drama shows (see Chapter VIII) the horse plays 
 no indifferent role, but suffers the same death as the hero, 
 and is even called " faithful brother " by the latter. 
 These allusions point to a remarkable similarity between 
 horse and rider. There seems to exist an intimate con- 
 nection between the two, which guides them to the same 
 destiny. We already have seen that the symbolization of 
 " the libido in resistance " through the " terrible mother " 
 in some places runs parallel with the horse. ^ Strictly 
 speaking, it would be incorrect to say that the horse is, or 
 means, the mother. The mother idea Is a libido symbol, 
 and the horse is also a libido symbol, and at some points 
 the two symbols intersect in their significances. The com- 
 mon feature of the two ideas lies in the libido, especially 
 in the libido repressed from incest. The hero and the 
 horse appear to us in this setting like an artistic formation 
 of the idea of humanity with its repressed libido, whereby 
 the horse acquires the significance of the animal uncon- 
 scious, which appears domesticated and subjected to the 
 will of man. Agni upon the ram, Wotan upon Sleipneir, 
 Ahuramazda upon Angromainyu,^ Jahwe upon the mon- 
 strous seraph, Christ upon the ass,^ Dionysus upon the 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 309 
 
 ass, Mithra upon the horse, Men upon the human-footed 
 horse, Freir upon the golden-bristled boar, etc., are 
 parallel representations. The chargers of mythology are 
 always invested with great significance; they very often 
 appear anthropomorphized. Thus, Men's horse has 
 human forelegs; Balaam's ass, human speech; the retreat- 
 ing bull, upon whose back Mithra springs in order to 
 strike him down, is, according to a Persian legend, actu- 
 ally the God himself. The mock crucifix of the Palatine 
 represents the crucified with an ass's head, perhaps in 
 reference to the ancient legend that in the temple of 
 Jerusalem the image of an ass was worshipped. As 
 Drosselbart (horse's mane) Wotan is half-human, 
 half-horse.* An old German riddle very prettily shows 
 this unity between horse and horseman.^ " Who are the 
 two, who travel to Thing? Together they have three 
 eyes, ten feet® and one tail; and thus they travel over 
 the land." Legends ascribe properties to the horse, which 
 psychologically belong to the unconscious of man; horses 
 are clairvoyant and clairaudient; they show the way when 
 the lost wanderer is helpless; they have mantic powers. 
 In the Iliad the horse prophesies evil. They hear the 
 words which the corpse speaks when it is taken to the 
 grave — words which men cannot hear. Caesar learned 
 from his human-footed horse (probably taken from the 
 identification of Csesar with the Phrygian Men) that he 
 was to conquer the world. An ass prophesied to Augustus 
 the victory of Actium. The horse also sees phantoms. 
 All these things correspond to typical manifestations of 
 the unconscious. Therefore, it is perfectly intelligible 
 
3IO PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 that the horse, as the image of the wicked animal compo- 
 nent of man, has manifold connections with the devil. 
 The devil has a horse's foot; in certain circumstances a 
 horse's form. At crucial moments he suddenly shows a 
 cloven foot (proverbial) in the same way as in the abduc- 
 tion of Hadding, Sleipneir suddenly looked out from be- 
 hind Wotan's mantle/ Just as the nightmare rides on 
 the sleeper, so does the devil, and, therefore, it is said 
 that those who have nightmares are ridden by the devil. 
 In Persian lore the devil is the steed of God. The devil, 
 like all evil things, represents sexuality. Witches have 
 intercourse with him, in which case he appears in the 
 form of a goat or horse. The unmistakably phallic 
 nature of the devil is communicated to the horse as well; 
 hence this symbol occurs in connections where this is the 
 only meaning which would furnish an explanation. It is 
 to be mentioned that Loki generates in the form of a 
 horse, just as does the devil when in horse's form, as an 
 old fire god. Thus the lightning was represented therio- 
 morphically as a horse. ^ An uneducated hysteric told me 
 that as a child she had suffered from extreme fear of 
 thunder, because every time the lightning flashed she saw 
 immediately afterwards a huge black horse reaching up- 
 wards as far as the sky.® It is said in a legend that the 
 devil, as the divinity of lightning, casts a horse's foot 
 (lightning) upon the roofs. In accordance with the 
 primitive meaning of thunder as fertilizer of the earth, 
 the phallic meaning is given both to lightning and the 
 horse's foot. In mythology the horse's foot really has 
 the phallic function as in this dream. An uneducated 
 
 I 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 311 
 
 patient who originally had been violently forced to coitus 
 by her husband very often dreams (after separation) 
 that a wild horse springs upon her and kicks her in the 
 abdomen with his hind foot. Plutarch has given us the 
 following words of a prayer from the Dionysus orgies : 
 
 iXdaiv r/pc€? AidvvGe "AXiov e's vaov ayvov <jvv JLapitea- 
 6iv iivaov rw fSoso) nodi dvoov, a^is tavpe, a^is ravps*^° 
 
 Pegasus with his foot strikes out of the earth the 
 spring Hippocrene. Upon a Corinthian statue of Bel- 
 lerophon, which was also a fountain, the water flowed out 
 from the horse's hoof. Balder's horse gave rise to a 
 spring through his kick. Thus the horse's foot is the 
 dispenser of fruitful moisture." A legend of lower 
 Austria, told by Jaehns, informs us that a gigantic man 
 on a white horse is sometimes seen riding over the moun- 
 tains. This means a speedy rain. In the German legend 
 the goddess of birth, Frau Holle, appears on horseback. 
 Pregnant women near confinement are prone to give oats 
 to a white horse from their aprons and to pray him to 
 give them a speedy delivery. It was originally the custom 
 for the horse to rub against the woman's genitals. The 
 horse (like the ass) had in general the significance of a 
 priapic animal.^- Horse's tracks are Idols dispensing 
 blessing and fertility. Horse's tracks established a claim, 
 and were of significance in determining boundaries, like 
 the priaps of Latin antiquity. Like the phallic Dactyli, 
 a horse opened the mineral riches of the Harz Moun- 
 
 * Come, O Dionysus, in thy temple of Elis, come with the Graces into 
 thy holy temple: come in sacred frenzy with the bull's foot. 
 
312 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 tains with his hoof. The horseshoe, an equivalent for 
 horse's foot/^ brings luck and has apotropaic meaning. 
 In the Netherlands an entire horse's foot is hung up in 
 the stable to ward against sorcery. The analogous effect 
 of the phallus is well known; hence the phalli at the 
 gates. In particular the horse's leg turned lightning aside, 
 according to the principle " similia similibus." 
 
 Horses also symbolize the wind, that is to say, the 
 tertium comparationis is again the libido symbol. The 
 German legend recognizes the wind as the wild hunts- 
 man in pursuit of the maiden. Stormy regions frequently 
 derive their names from horses, as the White Horse 
 Mountain of the Luneburger heath. The centaurs are 
 typical wind gods, and have been represented as such by 
 Bocklin's artistic intuition.^* 
 
 Horses also signify fire and light. The fiery horses of 
 Helios are an example. The horses of Hector are called 
 Xanthos (yellow, bright), Podargos (swift-footed), 
 Lampos (shining) and Aithon (burning). A very pro- 
 nounced fire symbolism was represented by the mystic 
 Quadriga, mentioned by Dio Chrysostomus. The su- 
 preme God always drives his chariot in a circle. Four 
 horses are harnessed to the chariot. The horse driven 
 on the periphery moves very quickly. He has a shining 
 coat, and bears upon it the signs of the planets and the 
 Zodiac.^^ This is a representation of the rotary fire of 
 heaven. The second horse moves more slowly, and is 
 illuminated only on one side. The third moves still more 
 slowly, and the fourth rotates around himself. But once 
 the outer horse set the second horse on fire with his fiery 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 313 
 
 breath, and the third flooded the fourth with his stream- 
 ing sweat. Then the horses dissolve and pass over into 
 the substance of the strongest and most fiery, which now 
 becomes the charioteer. The horses also represent the 
 four elements. The catastrophe signifies the conflagra- 
 tion of the world and the deluge, whereupon the division 
 of the God into many parts ceases, and the divine unity 
 is restored.^^ Doubtless the Quadriga may be understood 
 astronomically as a symbol of time. We already saw in 
 the first part that the stoic representation of Fate is a 
 fire symbol. It is, therefore, a logical continuation of 
 the thought, when time, closely related to the conception 
 of destiny, exhibits this same libido symbolism. Brihada- 
 ranyaka-Upanishad, i: i, says: 
 
 " The morning glow verily is the head of the sacrificial horse, 
 the sun his eye, the wind his breath, the all-spreading fire his 
 mouth, the year is the belly of the sacrificial horse. The sky is 
 his back, the atmosphere the cavern of his body, the earth the vault 
 of his belly. The poles are his sides, in between the poles his ribs, 
 the seasons his limbs, the months and fortnights his joints. Days 
 and nights are his feet, stars his bones, clouds his flesh. The food 
 he digests is the deserts, the rivers are his veins, the mountains his 
 liver and lungs, the herbs and trees his hair; the rising sun is his 
 fore part, the setting sun his after part. The ocean is his kinsman, 
 the sea his cradle." 
 
 The horse undoubtedly here stands for a time symbol, 
 and also for the entire world. We come across in the 
 Mithraic religion, a strange God of Time, Aion, 
 called Kronos or Deus Leontocephalus, because his 
 stereotyped representation is a lion-headed man, who, 
 standing in a rigid attitude, Is encoiled by a snake, whose 
 
314 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 head projects forward from behind over the lion's 
 head. The figure holds in each hand a key, on the chest 
 rests a thunderbolt, upon his back are the four wings of 
 the wind; in addition to that, the figure sometimes bears 
 the Zodiac on his body. Additional attributes are a cock 
 and implements. In the Carolingian psalter of Utrecht, 
 which is based upon ancient models, the Sasculum-Aion is 
 represented as a naked man with a snake in his hand. As 
 is suggested by the name of the divinity, he is a symbol 
 of time, most interestingly composed from libido 
 symbols. The lion, the zodiac sign of the greatest sum- 
 mer heat,^^ is the symbol of the most mighty desire. 
 (" My soul roars with the voice of a hungry lion," says 
 Mechthild of Magdeburg.) In the Mithra mystery the 
 serpent is often antagonistic to the lion, corresponding to 
 that very universal myth of the battle of the sun with the 
 dragon. 
 
 In the Egyptian Book of the Dead, Tum is even desig- 
 nated as a he-cat, because as such he fought the snake, 
 Apophis. The encoiling also means the engulfing, the 
 entering into the mother's womb. Thus time is defined 
 by the rising and setting of the sun, that is to say, through 
 the death and renewal of the libido. The addition of the 
 cock again suggests time, and the addition of implements 
 suggests the creation through time. (" Duree creatrice," 
 Bergson.) Oromazdes and Ahriman were produced 
 through Zrwanakarana, the " infinitely long duration." 
 Time, this empty and purely formal concept, is expressed 
 in the mysteries by transformations of the creative power, 
 the libido. Macrobius says : 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 315 
 
 " Leonis capite monstratur praesens tempus — quia conditio 
 ejus valida fervensque est." * 
 
 Philo of Alexandria has a better understanding: 
 
 " Tempus ab hominibus pessimis putatur deus volentibus Ens es- 
 sentiale abscondere — pravis hominibus tempus putatur causa rerum 
 mundi, sapientibus vero et optimis non tempus sed Deus." f ^^ 
 
 In Firdusi ^^ time is often the symbol of fate, the 
 libido nature of which we have already learned to recog- 
 nize. The Hindoo text mentioned above includes still 
 more — its symbol of the horse contains the whole world; 
 his kinsman and his cradle is the sea, the mother, similar 
 to the world soul, the maternal significance of which we 
 have seen above. Just as Aion represents the libido in 
 an embrace, that is to say, in the state of death and of 
 rebirth, so here the cradle of the horse is the sea, i. e. 
 the libido is in the mother, dying and rising again, like 
 the symbol of the dying and resurrected Christ, who 
 hangs like ripe fruit upon the tree of life. 
 
 We have already seen that the horse is connected 
 through Ygdrasil with the symbolism of the tree. The 
 horse is also a " tree of death "; thus in the Middle Ages 
 the funeral pyre was called St. Michael's horse, and the 
 neo-Persian word for coffin means " wooden horse." ^° 
 The horse has also the role of psycho-pompos; he is the 
 steed to conduct the souls to the other world — horse- 
 
 * The present time is indicated by the head of the lion — because his 
 condition is strong and impetuous. 
 
 t Time is thought by the wickedest people to be a divinity who de- 
 prives willing people of essential being; by good men it is considered to 
 be the Cause of the things of the world, but to the wisest and best it does 
 not seem time, but God. 
 
3i6 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 women fetch the souls (Valkyries). Neo-Greek songb 
 represent Charon on a horse. These definitions obviously 
 lead to the mother symbolism. The Trojan horse was 
 the only means by which the city could be conquered; be- 
 cause only he who has entered the mother and been reborn 
 is an invincible hero. The Trojan horse is a magic 
 charm, like the " Nodfyr," which also serves to overcome 
 necessity. The formula evidently reads, " In order to 
 overcome the difficulty, thou must commit incest, and 
 once more be born from thy mother." It appears that 
 striking a nail into the sacred tree signifies something very 
 similar. The " Stock im Eisen " in Vienna seems to have 
 been such a palladium. 
 
 Still another symbolic form is to be considered. Occa- 
 sionally the devil rides upon a three-legged horse. The 
 Goddess of Death, Hel, in time of pestilence, also rides 
 upon a three-legged horse. ^^ The gigantic ass, which is 
 three-legged, stands in the heavenly rain lake Vouru- 
 kasha ; his urine purifies the water of the lake, and from 
 his roar all useful animals become pregnant and all harm- 
 ful animals miscarry. The Triad further points to the 
 phallic significance. The contrasting symbolism of Hel is 
 blended into one conception in the ass of Vourukasha. 
 The libido is fructifying as well as destroying. 
 
 These definitions, as a whole, plainly reveal the funda- 
 mental features. The horse is a libido symbol, partly of 
 phallic, partly of maternal significance, like the tree. It 
 represents the libido in this application, that is, the libido 
 repressed through the incest prohibition. 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 317 
 
 In the Miller drama an Indian approaches the hero, 
 ready to shoot an arrow at him. Chiwantopel, however, 
 with a proud gesture, exposes his breast to the enemy. 
 This idea reminds the author of the scene between Cassius 
 and Brutus in Shakespeare's " Julius Ceesar." A misun- 
 derstanding has arisen between the two friends, when 
 Brutus reproaches Cassius for withholding from him the 
 money for the legions. Cassius, irritable and angry, 
 breaks out into the complaint: 
 
 " Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, 
 Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, 
 For Cassius is a-vveary of the world : 
 Hated by one he loves: braved by his brother: 
 Check'd like a bondman ; all his faults observed: 
 Set in a note-book, learn'd and conn'd by rote, 
 To cast into my teeth. O I could weep 
 My spirit from mine eyes! — There is my dagger, 
 And here my naked breast; within, a heart 
 Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold: 
 If that thou beest a Roman, take it forth: 
 I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart. 
 Strike, as thou didst at Csesar; for I know 
 When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'dst him better 
 Than ever thou lov'dst Cassius." 
 
 The material here would be incomplete without men- 
 tioning the fact that this speech of Cassius shows many 
 analogies to the agonized delirium of Cyrano (compare 
 Part I), only Cassius is far more theatrical and over- 
 drawn. Something childish and hysterical is In his man- 
 ner. Brutus does not think of killing him, but adminis- 
 ters a very chilling rebuke in the following dialogue : 
 
3i8 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Brutus: Sheathe your dagger: 
 
 Be angry when you will, it shall have scope : 
 Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor. 
 O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb 
 That carries anger as the flint bears fire: 
 Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark. 
 And straight is cold again. 
 
 Cassius: Hath Cassius liv'd 
 
 To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus 
 When grief and blood ill-tempered vexeth him? 
 
 Brutus: When I spoke that, I was ill-tempered too. 
 
 Cassius: Do you confess so much? Give me your hand. 
 
 Brutus: And my heart too. 
 
 Cassius: O Brutus! 
 
 Brutus: What's the matter? 
 
 Cassius: Have not you love enough to bear with me 
 
 When that rash humor which my mother gave me 
 Makes me forgetful? 
 
 Brutus; Yes, Cassius, and from henceforth 
 
 When you are over earnest with your Brutus, 
 He'll think your mother chides and leave you so. 
 
 The analytic interpretation of Cassius's irritability 
 plainly reveals that at these moments he identifies himself 
 with the mother, and his conduct, therefore, Is truly femi- 
 nine, as his speech demonstrates most excellently. For his 
 womanish love-seeking and desperate subjection under 
 the proud masculine will of Brutus calls forth the friendly 
 remark of the latter, that Cassius is yoked with a lamb, 
 that is to say, has something very weak in his character. 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 319 
 
 which Is derived from the mother. One recognizes In 
 this without any difficulty the analytic hall-marks of an 
 infantile disposition, which, as always. Is characterized 
 by a prevalence of the parent-imago, here the mother- 
 imago. An infantile individual is infantile because he has 
 freed himself insufficiently, or not at all, from the child- 
 ish environment, that is, from his adaptation to his 
 parents. Therefore, on one side, he reacts falsely towards 
 the world, as a child towards his parents, always demand- 
 ing love and immediate reward for his feelings; on the 
 other side, on account of the close connection to the par- 
 ents, he Identifies himself with them. The infantile indi- 
 vidual behaves like the father and mother. He is not In 
 a condition to live for himself and to find the place to 
 which he belongs. Therefore, Brutus very justly takes 
 it for granted that the " mother chides " In Cassius, not 
 he himself. The psychologically valuable fact which we 
 gather here is the information that Cassius is infantile 
 and identified with the mother. The hysterical behavior 
 is due to the circumstance that Cassius is still, in part, a 
 lamb, and an innocent and entirely harmless child. He 
 remains, as far as his emotional life is concerned, still far 
 behind himself. This we often see among people who, 
 as masters, apparently govern life and fellow-creatures; 
 they have remained children In regard to the demands of 
 their love nature. 
 
 The figures of the Miller dramas, being children of the 
 creator's phantasy, depict, as is natural, those traits of 
 character which belong to the author. The hero, the wish 
 figure. Is represented as most distinguished, because the 
 
320 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 hero always combines in himself all wished-for ideals. 
 Cyrano's attitude is certainly beautiful and impressive; 
 Cassius's behavior has a theatrical effect. Both heroes 
 prepare to die effectively, in which attempt Cyrano suc- 
 ceeds. This attitude betrays a wish for death in the un- 
 conscious of our author, the meaning of which we have 
 already discussed at length as the motive for her poem 
 of the moth. The wish of young girls to die is only an 
 indirect expression, which remains a pose, even in case 
 of real death, for death itself can be a pose. Such an 
 outcome merely adds beauty and value to the pose under 
 certain conditions. That the highest summit of life is 
 expressed through the symbolism of death is a well-known 
 fact; for creation beyond one's self means personal death. 
 The coming generation is the end of the preceding one. 
 This symbolism is frequent in erotic speech. The lascivi- 
 ous speech between Lucius and the wanton servant-maid 
 in Apuleius (" Metamorphoses," lib. ii: 32) is one of the 
 clearest examples: 
 
 " Proeliare, inquit, et fortiter proeliare : nee enim tibi cedam, 
 nee terga vortam. Cominus in aspectum, si vir es, dirige; et 
 grassare naviter, et occide moriturus. Hodierna pugna non habet 
 missionem. — Simul ambo corruimus inter mutuos amplexus animas 
 anhelantes." * 
 
 This symbolism is extremely significant, because it 
 shows how easily a contrasting expression originates and 
 
 * "Fight," she said, " and fight bravely, for I will not give away an 
 inch nor turn my back. Face to face, come on if you are a man ! Strike 
 home, do your worst and die! The battle this day is without quarter . . . 
 till, weary in body and mind, we lie powerless and gasping for breath 
 in each other's arms." 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 32 r 
 
 how equally intelligible and characteristic such an expres- 
 sion is. The proud gesture with which the hero offers 
 himself to death may very easily be an indirect expression 
 which challenges the pity or sympathy of the other, and 
 thus is doomed to the calm analytic reduction to which 
 Brutus proceeds. The behavior of Chiwantopel is also 
 suspicious, because the Cassius scene which serves as its 
 model betrays indiscreetly that the whole affair is merely 
 infantile and one which owes its origin to an overactive 
 mother imago. When we compare this piece with the 
 series of mother symbols brought to light in the previous 
 chapter, we must say that the Cassius scene merely con- 
 firms once more what we have long supposed, that is to 
 say, that the motor power of these symbolic visions arises 
 from an infantile mother transference, that is to say, 
 from an undetached bond to the mother. 
 
 In the drama the libido, in contradistinction to the in- 
 active nature of the previous symbols, assumes a threaten- 
 ing activity, a conflict becoming evident, in which the one 
 part threatens the other with murder. The hero, as the 
 ideal image of the dreamer, is inclined to die; he does not 
 fear death. In accordance with the infantile character of 
 this hero, it would most surely be time for him to take his 
 departure from the stage, or, in childish language, to die. 
 Death is to come to him in the form of an arrow-wound. 
 Considering the fact that heroes themselves are very 
 often great archers or succumb to an arrow-wound (St. 
 Sebastian, as an example), it may not be superfluous to 
 inquire into the meaning of death through an arrow. 
 
 We read in the biography of the stigmatized nun Kath- 
 
322 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 erine Emmerich " the following description of the evi- 
 dently neurotic sickness of her heart: 
 
 " When only in her novitiate, she received as a Christmas 
 present from the holy Christ a very tormenting heart trouble for 
 the whole period of her nun's life. God showed her inwardly 
 the purpose; it was on account of the decline of the spirit of the 
 order, especially for the sins of her fellow-sisters. But what 
 rendered this trouble most painful was the gift which she had 
 possessed from youth, namely, to see before her eyes the inner 
 nature of man as he really was. She felt the heart trouble 
 physically as if her heart was continually pierced by arrows." 
 These arrows — and this represented the still worse mental suf- 
 fering — she recognized as the thoughts, plots, secret speeches, 
 misunderstandings, scandal and uncharitableness, in which her 
 fellow-sisters, wholly without reason and unscrupulously, were 
 engaged against her and her god-fearing way of life." 
 
 It is difficult to be a saint, because even a patient and 
 long-suffering nature will not readily bear such a viola- 
 tion, and defends itself in its own way. The companion 
 of sanctity is temptation, without which no true saint can 
 live. We know from analytic experience that these 
 temptations can pass unconsciously, so that only their 
 equivalents would be produced in consciousness in the 
 form of symptoms. We know that it is proverbial that 
 heart and smart (Herz and Schmerz) rhyme. It is a 
 well-known fact that hysterics put a physical pain in place 
 of a mental pain. The biographer of Emmerich has com- 
 prehended that very correctly. Only her interpretation of 
 the pain is, as usual, projected. It is always the others 
 who secretly assert all sorts of evil things about her, and 
 this she pretended gave her the pains.-* The case, how- 
 
 I 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 323 
 
 ever, bears a somewhat different aspect. The very diffi- 
 cult renunciation of all life's joys, this death before the 
 bloom, is generally painful, and especially painful are the 
 unfulfilled wishes and the attempts of the animal nature to 
 break through the power of repression. The gossip and 
 jokes of the sisters very naturally centre around these 
 most painful things, so that it must appear to the saint 
 as if her symptoms were caused by this. Naturally, again, 
 she could not know that gossip tends to assume the role 
 of the unconscious, which, like a clever adversary, always 
 aims at the actual gaps in our armor. 
 
 A passage from Gautama Buddha embodies this idea : ^^ 
 
 " A wish earnestly desired 
 Produced by will, and nourished 
 When gradually it must be thwarted, 
 Burrows like an arrow in the flesh." 
 
 The wounding and painful arrows do not come from 
 without through gossip, which only attacks externally, 
 but they come from ambush, from our own unconscious. 
 This, rather than anything external, creates th;' defense- 
 less suffering. It is our own repressed and unrecognized 
 desires which fester like arrows in our flesh.'^^ In another 
 connection this was clear to the nun, and that most liter- 
 ally. It is a well-known fact, and one which needs no 
 further proof to those who understand, that these mystic 
 scenes of union with the Saviour generally are intermin- 
 gled with an enormous amount of sexual libido." There- 
 fore, It is not astonishing that the scene of the stigmata 
 is nothing but an incubation through the Saviour, only 
 
324 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 slightly changed metaphorically, as compared with the 
 ancient conception of " unio mystica," as cohabitation 
 with the god. Emmerich relates the following of her 
 stigmatization : 
 
 " I had a contemplation of the sufferings of Christ, and im- 
 plored him to let me feel with him his sorrows, and prayed five 
 paternosters to the honor of the five sacred wounds. Lying on 
 my bed with outstretched arms, I entered into a great sweetness 
 and into an endless thirst for the torments of Jesus. Then I saw 
 a light descending upon me: it came obliquely from above. It 
 was a crucified body, living and transparent, with arms extended, 
 but without a cross. The wounds shone brighter than the body; 
 they were five circles of glory, coming forth from the whole glory. 
 I was enraptured and my heart was moved with great pain and 
 yet with sweetness from longing to share in the torments of my 
 Saviour. And my longings for the sorrows of the Redeemer 
 increased more and more on gazing on his wounds, and passed 
 from my breast, through my hands, sides and feet to his holy 
 wounds: then from the hands, then from the sides, then from 
 the feet of the figure threefold shining red beams ending below 
 in an arrow, shot forth to my hands, sides and feet." 
 
 The beams, in accordance with the phallic fundamental 
 thought, are threefold, terminating below in an arrow- 
 point.^^ Like Cupid, the sun, too, has its quiver, full of 
 destroying or fertilizing arrows, sun rays,^'' which possess 
 phallic meaning. On this significance evidently rests the 
 Oriental custom of designating brave sons as arrows and 
 javelins of the parents. " To make sharp arrows " is an 
 Arabian expression for " to generate brave sons." The 
 Psalms declare (cxxvii:4) : 
 
 " Like as the arrows in the hands of the giant; even so are the 
 young children." 
 
 I 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 325 
 
 (Compare with this the remarks previously made 
 about " boys.") Because of this significance of the arrow 
 it is intelligible why the Scythian king Ariantes, when he 
 wished to prepare a census, demanded an arrow-head 
 from each man. A similar meaning attaches equally to 
 the lance. Men are descended from the lance, because 
 the ash is the mother of lances. Therefore, the men of 
 the Iron Age are derived from her. The marriage cus- 
 tom to which Ovid alludes (" Comat virgineas hasta 
 recurva comas" — Fastorum, lib. ii:56o) has already 
 been mentioned. Kaineus issued a command that his 
 lance be honored. Pindar relates in the legend of this 
 Kaineus : 
 
 " He descended into the depths, splitting the earth with a 
 straight foot." '" 
 
 He is said to have originally been a maiden named 
 Kainis, who, because of her complaisance, was trans- 
 formed into an invulnerable man by Poseidon. Ovid 
 pictures the battle of the Lapithse with the invulnerable 
 Kaineus; how at last they covered him completely with 
 trees, because they could not otherwise touch him. Ovid 
 says at this place : 
 
 " Exitus in dubio est: alii sub Inania corpus 
 Tartara detrusum silvarum mole ferebant, 
 Abnuit Ampycides: medioque ex aggere fulvis 
 Vidit avem pennis liquidas exire sub auras." * 
 
 ♦The result is doubtful: the body borne down by the weight of the 
 forest is carried into empty Tartaros: Ampycides denies this: from out 
 of the midst of the mass, he sees a bird with tawny feathers issue into 
 the liquid air. 
 
326 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Roscher considers this bird to be the golden plover 
 (Charadrius pluvialis), which borrows its name from the 
 fact that it lives in the x^P^^P^y ^ crevice in the earth. 
 By his song he proclaims the approaching rain. Kaineus 
 was changed into this bird. 
 
 We see again in this little myth the typical constituents 
 of the libido myth: original bisexuality, immortality (in- 
 vulnerability) through entrance into the mother (split- 
 ting the mother with the foot, and to become covered up) 
 and resurrection as a bird of the soul and a bringer of 
 fertility (ascending sun). When this type of hero causes 
 his lance to be worshipped, it probably means that his 
 lance is a valid and equivalent expression of him- 
 self. 
 
 From our present standpoint, we understand in a new 
 sense that passage in Job, which I mentioned in Chap- 
 ter IV of the first part of this book: 
 
 " He has set me up for his mark. 
 
 " His archers compass me round about, he cleaveth my reins 
 asunder, and doth not spare: — he poureth out my gall upon the 
 ground. 
 
 " He breaketh me with breach upon breach: he runneth upon 
 me like a giant." — Job xvi: 12-13-14. 
 
 Now we understand this symbolism as an expression 
 for the soul torment caused by the onslaught of the un- 
 conscious desires. The libido festers in his flesh, a cruel 
 god has taken possession of him and pierced him with 
 his painful libidian projectiles, with thoughts, which over- 
 whelmingly pass through him. (As a dementia prsecox 
 patient once said to me during his recovery: "To-day n 
 
 I 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 327 
 
 thought suddenly thrust itself through me.") This same 
 idea is found again in Nietzsche in Zarathustra : 
 
 The Magician 
 
 Stretched out, shivering 
 
 Like one half dead whose feet are warmed, 
 
 Shaken alas! by unknown fevers. 
 
 Trembling from the icy pointed arrows of frost. 
 
 Hunted by Thee, O Thought! 
 
 Unutterable ! Veiled ! Horrible One ! 
 
 Thou huntsman behind the clouds! 
 
 Struck to the ground by thee. 
 
 Thou mocking eye that gazeth at me from the dark! 
 
 Thus do I lie 
 
 Bending, writhing, tortured 
 
 With all eternal tortures. 
 
 Smitten 
 
 By thee, crudest huntsman, 
 
 Thou unfamiliar God. 
 
 Smite deeper! 
 
 Smite once more: 
 
 Pierce through and rend my heart! 
 
 What meaneth this torturing 
 
 With blunt-toothed arrows? 
 
 Why gazeth thou again. 
 
 Never weary of human pain, 
 
 With malicious, God-lightning eyes, 
 
 Thou wilt not kill, 
 
 But torture, torture? 
 
 No long-drawn-out explanation is necessary to enable 
 us to recognize in this comparison the old, universal idea 
 of the martyred sacrifice of God, which we have met pre- 
 viously in the Mexican sacrifice of the cross and in the 
 sacrifice of Odin.^^ This same conception faces us in 
 
328 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 the oft-repeated martyrdom of St. Sebastian, where, in 
 the delicate-glowing flesh of the young god, all the pain 
 of renunciation which has been felt by the artist has been 
 portrayed. An artist always embodies in his artistic work 
 a portion of the mysteries of his time. In a heightened 
 degree the same is true of the principal Christian symbol, 
 the crucified one pierced by the lance, the conception of 
 the man of the Christian era tormented by his wishes, 
 crucified and dying in Christ. 
 
 This is not torment which comes from without, which 
 befalls mankind; but that he himself is the hunter, mur- 
 derer, sacrificer and sacrificial knife is shown us in another 
 of Nietzsche's poems, wherein the apparent dualism is 
 transformed into the soul conflict through the use of the 
 same symbolism: 
 
 " Oh, Zarathustra, 
 Most cruel Nimrod ! 
 Whilom hunter of God 
 The snare of all virtue, 
 An arrow of evil ! 
 Now 
 
 Hunted by thyself 
 Thine own prey 
 Pierced through thyself, 
 Now 
 
 Alone with thee 
 
 Twofold in thine own knowledge 
 Mid a hundred mirrors 
 False to thyself, 
 Mid a hundred memories 
 Uncertain 
 
 Ailing M'ith each wound 
 Shivering with each frost 
 
 I 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 329 
 
 Caught in thine own snares, 
 Self knower! 
 Self hangman! 
 
 " Why didst thou strangle thyself 
 With the noose of thy wisdom? 
 Why hast thou enticed thyself 
 Into the Paradise of the old serpent? 
 Why hast thou crept 
 Into thyself, thyself? ..." 
 
 The deadly arrows do not strike the hero from with- 
 out, but it is he himself who, in disharmony with himself, 
 hunts, fights and tortures himself. Within himself will 
 has turned against will, libido against libido — therefore, 
 the poet says, " Pierced through thyself," that is to say, 
 wounded by his own arrow. Because we have discerned 
 that the arrow is a libido symbol, the idea of " penetrat- 
 ing or piercing through " consequently becomes clear to 
 us. It is a phallic act of union with one's self, a sort of 
 self-fertilization (introversion) ; also a self-violation, a 
 self-murder; therefore, Zarathustra may call himself his 
 own hangman, like Odin, who sacrifices himself to Odin. 
 
 The wounding by one's own arrow means, first of all, 
 the state of introversion. What this signifies we already 
 know — the libido sinks into its "own depths" (a well- 
 known comparison of Nietzsche's) and finds there below, 
 in the shadows of the unconscious, the substitute for the 
 upper world, which it has abandoned : the world of mem- 
 ories (" 'mid a hundred memories "), the strongest and 
 most influential of which are the early infantile memory 
 pictures. It is the world of the child, this paradise like 
 
330 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 state of earliest childhood, from which we are separated 
 by a hard law. In this subterranean kingdom slumber 
 sweet feelings of home and the endless hopes of all that 
 is to be. As Heinrich in the " Sunken Bell," by Gerhart 
 Hauptmann, says, in speaking of his miraculous work: 
 
 " There is a song lost and forgotten, 
 A song of home, a love song of childhood, 
 Brought up from the depths of the fairy well, 
 Known to all, but yet unheard." 
 
 However, as Mephistopheles says, " The danger Is 
 great." These depths are enticing; they are the mother 
 and — death. When the libido leaves the bright upper 
 world, whether from the decision of the individual or 
 from decreasing life force, then it sinks back into its own 
 depths, into the source from which it has gushed forth, 
 and turns back to that point of cleavage, the umbilicus, 
 through which It once entered Into this body. This point 
 of cleavage Is called the mother, because from her comes 
 the source of the libido. Therefore, when some great 
 work is to be accomplished, before which weak man re- 
 coils, doubtful of his strength, his libido returns to that 
 source — and this Is the dangerous moment, in which the 
 decision takes place between annihilation and new life. 
 If the libido remains arrested In the wonder kingdom of 
 the inner world, ^^ then the man has become for the world 
 above a phantom, then he Is practically dead or des- 
 perately 111.^^ But if the libido succeeds In tearing Itself 
 loose and pushing up into the world above, then a miracle 
 appears. This journey to the underworld has been a 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 331 
 
 fountain of youth, and new fertility springs from his ap- 
 parent death. This train of thought is very beautifully 
 gathered into a Hindoo myth : Once upon a time, Vishnu 
 sank into an ecstasy (introversion) and during this state 
 of sleep bore Brahma, who, enthroned upon the lotus 
 flower, arose from the navel of Vishnu, bringing with 
 him the Vedas, which he diligently read. (Birth of crea- 
 tive thought from introversion.) But through Vishnu's 
 ecstasy a devouring flood came upon the world. (Devour- 
 ing through introversion, symbolizing the danger of enter- 
 ing into the mother of death.) A demon taking advan- 
 tage of the danger, stole the Vedas from Brahma and 
 hid them in the depths. (Devouring of the libido.) 
 Brahma roused Vishnu, and the latter, transforming 
 himself into a fish, plunged into the flood, fought with 
 the demon (battle with the dragon), conquered him and 
 recaptured the Vedas. (Treasure obtained with diffi- 
 culty.) 
 
 Self-concentration and the strength derived therefrom 
 correspond to this primitive train of thought. It also 
 explains numerous sacrificial and magic rites which we 
 have already fully discussed. Thus the impregnable Troy 
 falls because the besiegers creep into the belly of a wooden 
 horse; for he alone is a hero who is reborn from the 
 mother, like the sun. But the danger of this venture is 
 shown by the history of Philoctetes, who was the only 
 one in the Trojan expedition who knew the hidden sanc- 
 tuary of Chryse, v/here the Argonauts had sacrificed al- 
 ready, and where the Greeks planned to sacrifice in order 
 to assure a safe ending to their undertaking. Chryse 
 
332 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 was a nymph upon the island of Chryse; according 
 to the account of the scholiasts in Sophocles's " Philoc- 
 tetes," this nymph loved Philoctetes, and cursed him be- 
 cause he spurned her love. This characteristic projection, 
 which is also met with in the Gilgamesh epic, should be 
 referred back, as suggested, to the repressed incest wish 
 of the son, who is represented through the projection as if 
 the mother had the evil wish, for the refusal of which the 
 son was given over to death. In reality, however, the son 
 becomes mortal by separating himself from the mother. 
 His fear of death, therefore, corresponds to the repressed 
 wish to turn back to the mother, and causes him to be- 
 lieve that the mother threatens or pursues him. The 
 teleological significance of this fear of persecution is evi- 
 dent; it is to keep son and mother apart. 
 
 The curse of Chryse is realized In so far that Philoc- 
 tetes, according to one version, when approaching his 
 altar, injured himself In his foot with one of his own 
 deadly poisonous arrows, or, according to another ver- 
 sion ^* (this Is better and far more abundantly proven), 
 was bitten in his foot by a poisonous serpent.^^ From 
 then on he Is alling.^^ 
 
 This very typical wound, which also destroyed Re, is 
 described in the following manner In an Egyptian hymn: 
 
 " The ancient of the Gods moved his mouth, 
 He cast his saliva upon the earth, 
 And what he spat, fell upon the ground. 
 With her hands Isis kneaded that and the soil 
 Which was about it, together: 
 From that she created a venerable worm, 
 And made him like a spear. 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 333 
 
 She did not twist him living around her face, 
 But threw him coiled upon the path, 
 Upon which the great God wandered at ease 
 Through all his lands. 
 
 " The venerable God stepped forth radiantly. 
 The gods who served Pharaoh accompanied him, 
 And he proceeded as every day. 
 Then the venerable worm stung him. . . . 
 The divine God opened his mouth 
 And the voice of his majesty echoed even to the sky. 
 And the gods exclaimed : Behold ! 
 Thereupon he could not answer. 
 His jaws chattered. 
 All his limbs trembled 
 And the poison gripped his flesh, 
 As the Nile seizes upon the land." 
 
 In this hymn Egypt has again preserved for us a primi- 
 tive conception of the serpent's sting. The aging of the 
 autumn sun as an image of human senility is symbolically 
 traced back to the mother through the poisoning by the 
 serpent. The mother is reproached, because her malice 
 causes the death of the sun-god. The serpent, the primi- 
 tive symbol of fear,"^ Illustrates the repressed tendency to 
 turn back to the mother, because the only possibility of 
 security from death Is possessed by the mother, as the 
 source of life. 
 
 Accordingly, only the mother can cure him, sick unto 
 death, and, therefore, the hymn goes on to depict how the 
 gods were assembled to take counsel: 
 
 " And Isis came with her wisdom : 
 Her mouth is full of the breath of life, 
 Her words banish sorrow, 
 And her speech animates those who no longer breathe. 
 
334 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 She said : ' What is that ; what is that, divine father ? 
 Behold, a worm has brought you sorrow ' 
 
 " ' Tell me thy name, divine father, 
 
 Because the man remains alive, who is called by his name.' " 
 
 Whereupon Re replied: 
 
 " ' I am he, who created heaven and earth, and piled up the hills, 
 And created all beings thereon. 
 
 I am he, who made the water and caused the great flood, 
 Who produced the bull of his mother. 
 Who is the procreator,' etc. 
 
 " The poison did not depart, it went further, 
 The great God was not cured. 
 Then said Isis to Re: 
 ' Thine is not the name thou hast told me. 
 Tell me true that the poison may leave thee, 
 For he whose name is spoken will live.' " 
 
 Finally Re decides to speak his true name. He is ap- 
 proximately healed (imperfect composition of Osiris) ; 
 but he has lost his power, and finally he retreats to the 
 heavenly cow. 
 
 The poisonous worm is, If one may speak In this way, 
 a " negative " phallus, a deadly, not an animating, form 
 of libido; therefore, a wish for death. Instead of a wish 
 for life. The "true name" Is soul and magic power; 
 hence a symbol of libido. What Isis demands is the re- 
 transference of the libido to the mother goddess. This 
 request Is fulfilled literally, for the aged god turns back 
 to the divine cow, the symbol of the mother.^^ This sym- 
 bolism is clear from our previous explanations. The 
 onward urging, living libido which rules the conscious- 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 335' 
 
 ness of the son, demands separation from the mother. 
 The longing of the child for the mother is a hindrance 
 on the path to this, taking the form of a psychologic re- 
 sistance, which Is expressed empirically in the neurosis by 
 all manners of fears, that Is to say, the fear of life. The 
 more a person withdraws from adaptation to reality, and 
 falls Into slothful Inactivity, the greater becomes his 
 anxiety (cum grano sails), which everywhere besets him 
 at each point as a hindrance upon his path. The fear 
 springs from the mother, that is to say, from the longing 
 to go back to the mother, which is opposed to the adapta- 
 tion to reality. This is the way In which the mother has 
 become apparently the malicious pursuer. Naturally, it 
 is not the actual mother, although the actual mother, with 
 the abnormal tenderness with which she sometimes pur- 
 sues her child, even into adult years, may gravely Injure 
 it through a willful prolonging of the infantile state in 
 the child. It is rather the mother-Imago, which becomes 
 the Lamia. The mother-Imago, however, possesses its 
 power solely and exclusively from the son's tendency not 
 only to look and to work forwards, but also to glance 
 backwards to the pampering sweetness of childhood, to 
 that glorious state of Irresponsibility and security with 
 which the protecting mother-care once surrounded him.^^ 
 The retrospective longing acts like a paralyzing poison 
 upon the energy and enterprise; so that it may well be 
 compared to a poisonous serpent which lies across our 
 path. Apparently, it is a hostile demon which robs us 
 of energy, but, in reality, it is the individual unconscious, 
 the retrogressive tendency of which begins to overcome 
 
336 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 the conscious forward striving. The cause of this can 
 be, for example, the natural aging which weakens the 
 energy, or it may be great external difficulties, which 
 cause man to break down and become a child again, or 
 it may be, and this is probably the most frequent cause, 
 the woman who enslaves the man, so that he can no 
 longer free himself, and becomes a child again/" It may 
 be of significance also that Isis, as sister-wife of the sun- 
 god, creates the poisonous animal from the spittle of the 
 god, which is perhaps a substitute for sperma, and, there- 
 fore, is a symbol of libido. She creates the animal from 
 the libido of the god; that means she receives his power, 
 making him weak and dependent, so that by this means 
 she assumes the dominating role of the mother. (Mother 
 transference to the wife.) This part is preserved in the 
 legend of Samson, in the role of Delilah, who cut off 
 Samson's hair, the sun's rays, thus robbing him of his 
 strength.*^ Any weakening of the adult man strengthens 
 the wishes of the unconscious; therefore, the decrease of 
 strength appears directly as the backward striving towards 
 the mother. 
 
 There is still to be considered one more source of the 
 reanimation of the mother-Imago. We have already met 
 it in the discussion of the mother scene in " Faust," that 
 is to say, the willed introversion of a creative mind, which, 
 retreating before its own problem and inwardly collecting 
 its forces, dips at least for a moment into the source of 
 life, in order there to wrest a little more strength from 
 the mother for the completion of its work. It is a mother- 
 child play with one's self, in which lies much weak self- 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 337 
 
 admiration and self-adulation ("Among a hundred mir- 
 rors" — Nietzsche); a Narcissus state, a strange spec- 
 tacle, perhaps, for profane eyes. The separation from 
 the mother-imago, the birth out of one's self, reconciles all 
 conflicts through the sufferings. This is probably meant 
 by Nietzsche's verse : 
 
 " Why hast thou enticed thyself 
 Into the Paradise of the old serpent? 
 Why hast thou crept 
 Into thyself, thyself? . . . 
 
 " A sick man now- 
 Sick of a serpent's poison," 
 A captive now 
 
 Whom the hardest destiny befell 
 In thine own pit; 
 Bowed down as thou workest 
 Encaved within thyself, 
 Burrowing into thyself, 
 Helpless, 
 Stiff, 
 A corpse. 
 
 Overwhelmed with a hundred burdens, 
 Overburdened by thyself. 
 A wise man, 
 A self-knower, 
 The wise Zarathustra ; 
 Thou soughtest the heaviest burden 
 And foundest thou thyself. ..." 
 
 The symbolism of this speech is of the greatest rich" 
 ness. He is buried in the depths of self, as if in the earth; 
 really a dead man who has turned back to mother 
 earth; *" a Kaineus " piled with a hundred burdens " and 
 pressed down to death; the one who groaning bears the 
 
338 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 heavy burden of his own libido, of that libido which 
 draws him back to the mother. Who does not think of 
 the Taurophoria of Mithra, who took his bull (accord- 
 ing to the Egyptian hymn, "the bull of his mother"), 
 that is, his love for his mother, the heaviest burden upon 
 his back, and with that entered upon the painful course 
 of the so-called Transitus ! ** This path of passion led to 
 the cave, in which the bull was sacrificed. Christ, too, had 
 to bear the cross, ^^ the symbol of his love for the mother, 
 and he carried it to the place of sacrifice where the lamb 
 was slain in the form of the God, the infantile man, a 
 " self-executioner," and then to burial in the subterranean 
 sepulchre.''*' 
 
 That which in Nietzsche appears as a poetical figure of 
 speech is really a primitive myth. It is as if the poet 
 still possessed a dim idea or capacity to feel and reacti- 
 vate those imperishable phantoms of long-past worlds of 
 thought in the words of our present-day speech and in 
 the images which crowd themselves into his phantasy. 
 Hauptmann also says: " Poetic rendering is that which 
 allows the echo of the primitive word to resound through 
 the form." '' 
 
 The sacrifice, with its mysterious and manifold mean- 
 ing, which is rather hinted at than expressed, passes un- 
 recognized in the unconscious of our author. The arrow 
 is not shot, the hero Chiwantopel is not yet fatally 
 poisoned and ready for death through self-sacrifice. We 
 now can say, according to the preceding material, this 
 sacrifice means renouncing the mother, that is to say, re- 
 
THE BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 339 
 
 nunciation of all bonds and limitations which the soul 
 has taken with it from the period of childhood into the 
 adult life. From various hints of Miss Miller's it ap- 
 pears that at the time of these phantasies she was still 
 living in the circle of the family, evidently at an age 
 which was in urgent need of independence. That is to 
 say, man does not live very long in the infantile environ- 
 ment or in the bosom of his family without real danger 
 to his mental health. Life calls him forth to independ- 
 ence, and he who gives no heed to this hard call because 
 of childish indolence and fear is threatened by a neurosis, 
 and once the neurosis has broken out it becomes more and 
 more a valid reason to escape the battle with life and to 
 remain for all time in the morally poisoned infantile 
 atmosphere. 
 
 The phantasy of the arrow-wound belongs in this 
 stru£;gle for personal independence. The thought of this 
 resolution has not yet penetrated the dreamer. On the 
 contrary, she rather repudiates it. After all the preced- 
 ing, it is evident that the symbolism of the arrow-wound 
 through direct translation must be taken as a coitus 
 symbol. The " Occide moriturus " attains by this means 
 the sexual significance belonging to it. Chiwantopel natu- 
 rally represents the dreamer. But nothing is attained and 
 nothing is understood through one's reduction to the 
 coarse sexual, because it is a commonplace that the un- 
 conscious shelters coitus wishes, the discovery of which 
 signifies nothing further. The coitus ivish under this 
 aspect is really a symbol for the individual demonstration 
 of the libido separated from the parents, of the conquest 
 
340 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 of an independent life. This step towards a new life 
 means, at the same time, the death of the past life.*^ 
 Therefore, Chiwantopel is the infantile hero *** (the son, 
 the child, the lamb, the fish) who is still enchained by 
 the fetters of childhood and who has to die as a symbol 
 of the incestuous libido, and with that sever the retro- 
 gressive bond. For the entire libido is demanded for 
 the battle of life, and there can be no remaining behind. 
 The dreamer cannot yet come to this decision, which will 
 tear aside all the sentimental connections with father 
 and mother, and yet it must be made in order to follow 
 the call of the individual destiny. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 
 
 After the disappearance of the assailant, Chiwantopel 
 begins the following monologue : 
 
 " From the extreme ends of these continents, from the farthest 
 lowlands, after having forsaken the palace of my father, I have 
 been wandering aimlessly during a hundred moons, always pur- 
 sued by my mad desire to find ' her who will understand.' With 
 jewels I have tempted many fair ones, with kisses I have tried 
 to snatch the secret of their hearts, with acts of bravery I have 
 conquered their admiration. (He reviews the women he has 
 known.) Chita, the princess of my race . . . she is a little fool, 
 vain as a peacock, having nought in her head but jewels and 
 perfume. Ta-nan, the young peasant, . . . bah, a mere sow, no 
 more than a breast and a stomach, caring only for pleasure. And 
 then Ki-ma, the priestess, a true parrot, repeating hollow phrases 
 learnt from the priests; all for show, without real education or 
 sincerity, suspicious poseur and hypocrite! . . . Alas! Not one 
 who understands me, not one who resembles me, not one who 
 has a soul sister to mine. There is not one among them all who 
 has known my soul, not one who could read my thought; far 
 from it; not one capable of seeking with me the luminous sum- 
 mits, or of spelling with me the superhuman word, love." 
 
 Here Chiwantopel himself says that his journeying and 
 wandering is a quest for that other, and for the meaning 
 of life which lies in union with her. In the first part of 
 this work we merely hinted gently at this possibility. The 
 fact that the seeker is masculine and the sought-for of 
 
 341 
 
342 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 feminine sex is not so astonishing, because the chief object 
 of the unconscious transference is the mother, as has 
 probably been seen from that which we have already 
 learned. The daughter takes a male attitude towards the 
 mother. The genesis of this adjustment can only be sus- 
 pected in our case, because objective proof is lacking. 
 Therefore, let us rather be satisfied with inferences. 
 " She who will understand " means the mother, in the in- 
 fantile language. At the same time, it also means the life 
 companion. As is well known, the sex contrast concerns 
 the libido but little. The sex of the object plays a sur- 
 prisingly slight role in the estimation of the unconscious. 
 The object itself, taken as an objective reality, is but of 
 slight significance. (But it is of greatest importance 
 whether the libido is transferred or introverted.) The 
 original concrete meaning of erfassen, " to seize," 
 begreifen, " to touch," etc., allows us to recognize clearly 
 the under side of the wish — to find a congenial person. 
 But the " upper " intellectual half is also contained in it, 
 and is to be taken into account at the same time. One 
 might be inclined to assume this tendency if it were not 
 that our culture abused the same, for the misunderstood 
 woman has become almost proverbial, which can only be 
 the result of a wholly distorted valuation. On the one 
 side, our culture undervalues most extraordinarily the im- 
 portance of sexuality; on the other side, sexuality breaks 
 out as a direct result of the repression burdening it at 
 every place where it does not belong, and makes use of 
 such an indirect manner of expression that one may ex- 
 pect to meet it suddenly almost anywhere. Thus the 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 343 
 
 idea of the intimate comprehension of a human soul, 
 which Is In reality something very beautiful and pure, is 
 soiled and disagreeably distorted through the entrance 
 of the indirect sexual meaning/ The secondary meaning 
 or, better expressed, the misuse, which repressed and 
 denied sexuality forces upon the highest soul functions, 
 makes it possible, for example, for certain of our oppo- 
 nents to scent in psychoanalysis prurient erotic confes- 
 sionals. These are subjective wish-fulfilment deliria 
 which need no contra arguments. This misuse makes the 
 wish to be " understood " highly suspicious. If the natural 
 demands of life have not been fulfilled. Nature has first 
 claim on man; only long afterwards does the luxury of 
 intellect come. The mediaeval ideal of life for the sake 
 of death needs gradually to be replaced by a natural con- 
 ception of life, in which the normal demands of men are 
 thoroughly kept in mind, so that the desires of the animal 
 sphere may no longer be compelled to drag down into 
 their service the high gifts of the intellectual sphere In 
 order to find an outlet. We are inclined, therefore, to 
 consider the dreamer's wish for understanding, first of 
 all, as a repressed striving towards the natural destiny. 
 This meaning coincides absolutely with psychoanalytic 
 experience, that there are countless neurotic people who 
 apparently are prevented from experiencing life because 
 they have an unconscious and often also a conscious re- 
 pugnance to the sexual fate, under which they imagine 
 all kinds of ugly things. There is only too great an In- 
 clination to yield to this pressure of the unconscious sexu- 
 ality and to experience the dreaded (unconsciously hoped 
 
344 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 for) disagreeable sexual experience, so as to acquire by 
 that means a legitimately founded horror which retains 
 them more surely in the infantile situation. This is the 
 reason why so many people fall into that very state 
 towards which they have the greatest abhorrence. 
 
 That we were correct In our assumption that, in Miss 
 Miller, it is a question of the battle for independence 
 is shown by her statement that the hero's departure from 
 his father's house reminds her of the fate of the young 
 Buddha, who likewise renounced all luxury to which he 
 was born in order to go out into the world to live out 
 his destiny to its completion. Buddha gave the same 
 heroic example as did Christ, who separated from his 
 mother, and even spoke bitter words (Matthew, chap. 
 X, V. 34) : 
 
 "Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came 
 not to send peace, but a sword. 
 
 (35) "For I am come to set a man at variance against his 
 father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter- 
 in-law against her mother-in-law. 
 
 (36) " And a man's foes shall be they of his own household. 
 
 (37) " He that loveth father or mother more than me is not 
 worthy of me." 
 
 Or Luke, chap, xli, v. 5 1 : 
 
 " Suppose ye that I am come to give peace on earth? I tell you, 
 Nay: but rather division. 
 
 (52) " For from henceforth there shall be five in one house 
 divided, three against two, and two against three. 
 
 (53) " The father shall be divided against the son, and the son 
 against the father; the mother against the daughter, and the 
 daughter against the mother; the mother-in-law against the 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 345 
 
 daughter-in-law, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in- 
 law." 
 
 Horus snatched from his mother her head adornment, 
 the power. Just as Adam struggled with Lilith, so he 
 struggles for power. Nietzsche, in " Human, All Too 
 Human," expressed the same in very beautiful words: 
 
 " One may suppose that a mind, in which the ' type of free 
 mind ' is to ripen and sweeten at maturity, has had its decisive 
 crisis in a great detachment, so that before this time it was just 
 so much the more a fettered spirit and appeared chained for- 
 ever to its corner and its pillar.^ What binds it most firmly? 
 What cords are almost untearable? Among human beings of a 
 high and exquisite type, it would be duties: that reverence, which 
 is suitable for youth, that modesty and tenderness for all the old 
 honored and valued things, that thankfulness for the earth from 
 which they grew, for the hand which guided them, for the shrine 
 where they learnt to pray: — their loftiest moments themselves 
 come to bind them the firmest, to obligate them the most perma- 
 nently. The great detachment comes suddenly for people so 
 bound. 
 
 " ' Better to die than to live here,' — thus rings the imperative 
 voice of seduction: and this here, this ' at home ' is all, that it (the 
 soul) has loved until now! A sudden terror and suspicion against 
 that which it has loved, a lightning flash of scorn towards that 
 which is called ' duty,' a rebellious, arbitrary, volcanic, impelling 
 desire for travelling, for strange countries, estrangements, cool- 
 ness, frigidity, disillusionments, a hatred of love, perhaps a sacri- 
 legious touch and glance backwards ^ there where just now it 
 adored and loved, perhaps a blush of shame over what it has just 
 done, and at the same time an exultation over having done it, an 
 intoxicating internal joyous thrill, in which a victory reveals itself 
 — a victory? Over what? Over whom? An enigmatic, doubt- 
 ful, questioning victory, but the first triumph. Of such woe and 
 pain is formed the history of the great detachment. It is like a 
 disease which can destroy men, — this first eruption of strength 
 and will towards self-assertion." * 
 
346 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 The danger lies, as is brilliantly expressed by Nietzsche, 
 in isolation in one's self: 
 
 " Solitude surrounds and embraces him ever more threatening, 
 ever more constricting, ever more heart-strangling, the terrible 
 Goddess and Mater ssva cupidinum," 
 
 The libido taken avv^ay from the mother, who is aban- 
 doned only reluctantly, becomes threatening as a serpent, 
 the symbol of death, for the relation to the mother must 
 cease, must die, which itself almost causes man's death. 
 In " Mater saeva cupidinum " the idea attains rare, almost 
 conscious, perfection. 
 
 I do not presume to try to paint in better words than 
 has Nietzsche the psychology of the wrench from child- 
 hood. 
 
 Miss Miller furnishes us with a further reference to 
 a material which has influenced her creation in a more 
 general manner; this is the great Indian epic of Long- 
 fellow, " The Song of Hiawatha." 
 
 If my readers have had patience to read thus far, and 
 to reflect upon what they have read, they frequently must 
 have wondered at the number of times I introduce for 
 comparison such apparently foreign material and how 
 often I widen the base upon which Miss Miller's crea- 
 tions rest. Doubts must often have arisen whether it is 
 justifiable to enter into important discussions concerning 
 the psychologic foundations of myths, religions and cul- 
 ture in general on the basis of such scanty suggestions. 
 It might be said that behind the Miller phantasies such a 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER r6lE 347 
 
 thing is scarcely to be found. I need hardly emphasize 
 the fact that I, too, have sometimes been in doubt. I 
 had never read " Hiawatha " until, in the course of my 
 work, I came to this part. " Hiawatha," a poetical com- 
 pilation of Indian myths, gives me, however, a justifica- 
 tion for all preceding reflections, because this epic con- 
 tains an unusual number of mythologic problems. This 
 fact is probably of great importance for the wealth of 
 suggestions in the Miller phantasies. We are, therefore, 
 compelled to obtain an insight into this epic. 
 
 Nawadaha sings the songs of the epic of the hero 
 Hiawatha, the friend of man : 
 
 " There he sang of Hiawatha, 
 Sang the songs of Hiawatha, 
 Sang his wondrous birth and being, 
 How he prayed and how he fasted, 
 How he lived and toiled and suffered, 
 That the tribes of men might prosper, 
 That he might advance his people." 
 
 The teleological meaning of the hero, as that symbolic 
 figure which unites in itself libido in the form of admira- 
 tion and adoration, in order to lead to higher sublima- 
 tions by way of the symbolic bridges of the myths, is 
 anticipated here. Thus we become quickly acquainted 
 with Hiawatha as a savior, and are prepared to hear all 
 that which must be said of a savior, of his marvellous 
 birth, of his early great deeds, and his sacrifice for his 
 fellow-men. 
 
 The first song begins with a fragment of evangelism: 
 Gitche Manito, the " master of life," tired of the quarrels 
 
348 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 of his human children, calls his people together and makes 
 known to them the joyous message : 
 
 " I will send a prophet to you, 
 A Deliverer of the nations, 
 Who shall guide you and shall teach you, 
 Who shall toil and suffer with you. 
 If you listen to his counsels, 
 You will multiply and prosper. 
 If his warnings pass unheeded. 
 You will fade away and perish ! " 
 
 Gitche Manito, the Mighty, " the creator of the na- 
 tions," is represented as he stood erect " on the great Red 
 Pipestone quarry." 
 
 " From his footprints flowed a river, 
 Leaped into the light of morning. 
 O'er the precipice plunging downward 
 Gleamed like Ishkoodah, the comet." 
 
 The water flowing from his footsteps sufficiently 
 proves the phallic nature of this creator. I refer to the 
 earlier utterances concerning the phallic and fertilizing 
 nature of the horse's foot and the horse's steps, and espe- 
 cially do I recall Hippocrene and the foot of Pegasus.^ 
 We meet with the same idea in Psalm Ixv, vv. 9 to 11: 
 
 " Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it; thou makest it very 
 plenteous. 
 
 " The river of God is full of water; thou preparest their corn, 
 for so thou providest for the earth. 
 
 "Thou waterest her furrows: thou sendest rain into the little 
 valleys thereof; thou makest it soft with the drops of rain, and 
 blessest the increase of it. 
 
 "Thou crownest the year with thy goodness; and thy paths 
 drop fatness." 
 
 I 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 349 
 
 Wherever the fertilizing God steps, there is fruitful- 
 ness. We already have spoken of the symbolic meaning 
 of treading in discussing the nightmares. Kaineus passes 
 into the depths, " splitting the earth with a foot out- 
 stretched." Amphiaraus, another chthonic hero, sinks 
 into the earth, which Zeus has opened for him by a stroke 
 of lightning. (Compare with that the above-mentioned 
 vision of a hysterical patient, who saw a black horse after 
 a flash of lightning: identity of horse's footstep and flash 
 of lightning.) By means of a flash of lightning heroes 
 were made immortal.® Faust attained the mothers when 
 he stamped his foot. 
 
 " Stamp and descend, stamping thou'lt rise again." 
 
 The heroes in the sun-devouring myths often stamp at 
 or struggle in the jaws of the monster. Thus Tor 
 stamped through the ship's bottom in battle with the 
 monster, and went as far as the bottom of the sea. 
 (Kaineus.) (Concerning "kicking" as an infantile 
 phantasy, see above.) The regression of the libido to 
 the presexual stage makes this preparatory action of 
 treading either a substitution for the coitus phantasy or 
 for the phantasy of re-entrance into the mother's womb. 
 The comparison of water flowing from the footsteps with 
 a comet is a light symbolism for the fructifying moisture 
 (sperma). According to an observation by Humboldt 
 (Kosmos), certain South American Indian tribes call the 
 meteors " urine of the stars." Mention is also made of 
 how Gitche Manito makes fire. He blows upon a forest, 
 so that the trees, rubbing upon each other, burst into 
 
350 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 flame. This demon is, therefore, an excellent libido sym- 
 bol; he also produced fire. 
 
 After this prologue in the second song, the hero's pre- 
 vious history is related. The great warrior, Mudjekeewis 
 (Hiawatha's father), has cunningly overcome the great 
 bear, " the terror of the nations," and stolen from him 
 the magic " belt of wampum," a girdle of shells. Here 
 we meet the motive of the " treasure attained with diffi- 
 culty," which the hero rescues from the monster. Who 
 the bear is, is shown by the poet's comparisons. Mudje- 
 keewis strikes the bear on his head after he has robbed 
 him of the treasure. 
 
 " With the heavy blow bewildered 
 Rose the great Bear of the mountains, 
 But his knees beneath him trembled, 
 And he whimpered like a woman." 
 
 Mudjekeewis said derisively to him: 
 
 " Else you would not cry, and whimper, 
 Like a miserable woman! 
 
 But you, Bear! sit here and whimper, 
 And disgrace your tribe by crying, 
 Like a wretched Shaugodaya, 
 Like a cowardly old woman!" 
 
 These three comparisons with a woman are to be 
 found near each other on the same page. Mudjekeewis 
 has, like a true hero, once more torn life from the jaws 
 of death, from the all-devouring " terrible mother." 
 This deed, which, as we have seen, is also represented as 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER r6lE 35 i 
 
 a journey to hell, " night journey through the sea," the 
 conquering of the monster from within, signifies at the 
 same time entrance into the mother's womb, a rebirth, 
 the results of which are perceptible also for Mudjekeewis. 
 As in the Zosimos vision, here too the entering one be- 
 comes the breath of the wind or spirit. Mudjekeewis 
 becomes the west wind, the fertilizing breath, the father 
 of winds. ^ His sons become the other winds. An inter- 
 mezzo tells of them and of their love stories, of which I 
 will mention only the courtship of Wabuns, the East 
 Wind, because here the erotic wooing of the wind is pic- 
 tured in an especially beautiful manner. Every morning 
 he sees a beautiful girl in a meadow, whom he eagerly 
 courts : 
 
 " Every morning, gazing earthward, 
 Still the first thing he beheld there 
 Was her blue eyes looking at him, 
 Two blue lakes among the rushes." 
 
 The comparison with water is not a matter of sec- 
 ondary importance, because " from wind and water " 
 shall man be born anew. 
 
 " And he wooed her with caresses, 
 Wooed her with his smile of sunshine, 
 With his flattering words he wooed her, 
 With his sighing and his singing, 
 Gentlest whispers in the branches, 
 Softest music, sweetest odors," etc. 
 
 In these onomatopoetic verses the wind's caressing 
 courtship is excellently expressed.* 
 
352 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 The third song presents the previous history of 
 Hiawatha's mother. His grandmother, when a maiden, 
 lived in the moon. There she once swung upon a liana, 
 but a jealous lover cut off the liana, and Nokomis, 
 Hiawatha's grandmother, fell to earth. The people, who 
 saw her fall downwards, thought that she was a shooting 
 star. This marvellous descent of Nokomis is more 
 plainly illustrated by a later passage of this same song; 
 there little Hiawatha asks the grandmother what is the 
 moon. Nokomis teaches him about it as follows: The 
 moon is the body of a grandmother, whom a warlike 
 grandson has cast up there in wrath. Hence the moon is 
 the grandmother. In ancient beliefs, the moon is also 
 the gathering place of departed souls,® the guardian of 
 seeds; therefore, once more a place of the origin of life 
 of predominantly feminine significance. The remarkable 
 thing is that Nokomis, falling upon the earth, gave birth 
 to a daughter, Wenonah, subsequently the mother of 
 Hiawatha. The throwing upwards of the mother, and 
 her falling down and bringing forth, seems to contain 
 something typical in itself. Thus a story of the seven- 
 teenth century relates that a mad bull threw a pregnant 
 woman as high as a house, and tore open her womb, and 
 the child fell without harm upon the earth. On account 
 of his wonderful birth, this child was considered a hero 
 or doer of miracles, but he died at an early age. The 
 belief is widespread among lower savages that the sun is 
 feminine and the moon masculine. Among the Namaqua, 
 a Hottentot tribe, the opinion is prevalent that the sun 
 consists of transparent bacon. 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 353 
 
 " The people, who journey on boats, draw it down by magic 
 every evening, cut off a suitable piece and then give it a kick so 
 that it flies up again into the sky." — Waitz: " Anthropologie," 
 
 n, 342. 
 
 The infantile nourishment comes from the mother. In 
 the Gnostic phantasies we come across a legend of the 
 origin of man which possibly belongs here : the female 
 archons bound to the vault of Heaven are unable, on 
 account of its quick rotation, to keep their young within 
 them, but let them fall upon the earth, from which men 
 arise. Possibly there is here a connection with barbaric 
 midwifery, the letting fall of the parturient. The assault 
 upon the mother is already introduced with the adventure 
 of Mudjekeewis, and is continued in the violent handling 
 of the " grandmother," Nokomis, who, as a result of the 
 cutting of the liana and the fall downwards, seems in 
 some way to have become pregnant. The " cutting of 
 the branch," the plucking, we have already recognized as 
 mother incest. (See above.) That well-known verse, 
 " Saxonland, where beautiful maidens grow upon trees," 
 and phrases like " picking cherries in a neighbor's gar- 
 den," allude to a similar idea. The fall downwards of 
 Nokomis deserves to be compared to a poetical figure in 
 Heine. 
 
 " A star, a star is falling 
 
 Out of the glittering sky! 
 
 The star of Love! I watch it 
 
 Sink in the depths and die. 
 
 " The leaves and buds are falling 
 From many an apple-tree; 
 
354 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 I watch the mirthful breezes 
 Embrace them wantonly . . ." 
 
 Wenonah later was courted by the caressing West 
 Wind, and becomes pregnant. Wenonah, as a young 
 moon-goddess, has the beauty of the moonlight. Nokomis 
 warns her of the dangerous courtship of Mudjekeewis, the 
 West Wind. But Wenonah allows herself to become in- 
 fatuated, and conceives from the breath of the wind, 
 from the nvevpia, a son, our hero. 
 
 " And the West- Wind came at evening, 
 
 Found the beautiful Wenonah, 
 
 Lying there amid the lilies, 
 
 Wooed her with his words of sweetness, 
 
 Wooed her with his soft caresses, 
 
 Till she bore a son in sorrow, 
 
 Bore a son of love and sorrow." 
 
 Fertilization through the breath of the spirit is already 
 a well-known precedent for us. The star or comet 
 plainly belongs to the birth scene as a libido symbol; No- 
 komis, too, comes to earth as a shooting star. Morike's 
 sweet poetic phantasy has devised a similar divine origin. 
 
 " And she who bore me in her womb, 
 And gave me food and clothing. 
 She was a maid — a wild, brown maid, 
 Who looked on men with loathing. 
 
 " She fleered at them and laughed out loud, 
 And bade no suitor tarry ; 
 * Fd rather be the Wind's own bride 
 Than have a man and marry.' 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER rOlE 355 
 
 " Then came the Wind and held her fast 
 His captive, love-enchanted; 
 And lo, by him a merry child 
 Within her womb was planted." 
 
 Buddha's marvellous birth story, retold by Sir Edwin 
 Arnold, also shows traces of this.^° 
 
 " Maya, the Queen . . . 
 Dreamed a strange dream, dreamed that a star from heaven — 
 Splendid, six-rayed, in color rosy-pearl, 
 Whereof the token was an Elephant 
 Six-tusked and white as milk of Kamadhuk — 
 Shot through the void ; and shining into her, 
 Entered her womb upon the right." ^^ 
 
 During Maya's conception a wind blows over the land: 
 
 " A wind blew 
 With unknown freshness over lands and seas." 
 
 After the birth the four genii of the East, West, South 
 and North come to render service as bearers of the 
 palanquin. (The coming of the wise men at Christ's 
 birth.) We also find here a distinct reference to the 
 " four winds." For the completion of the symbolism 
 there is to be found in the Buddha myth, as well as in 
 the birth legend of Christ, besides the impregnation by 
 star and wind, also the fertilization by an animal, here 
 an elephant, which with its phallic trunk fulfilled in Maya 
 the Christian method of fructification through the ear or 
 the head. It is well known that, in addition to the dove, 
 the unicorn is also a procreative symbol of the Logos. 
 
 Here arises the question why the birth of a hero always 
 
356 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 had to take place under such strange symbolic circum- 
 stances? It might also be imagined that a hero arose 
 from ordinary surroundings and gradually grew out of 
 his inferior environment, perhaps with a thousand trou- 
 bles and dangers. (And, indeed, this motive is by no 
 means strange in the hero myth.) It might be said that 
 superstition demands strange conditions of birth and gen- 
 eration; but why does it demand them? 
 
 The answer to this question is: that the birth of the 
 hero, as a rule, Is not that of an ordinary mortal, but is 
 a rebirth from the mother-spouse; hence it occurs under 
 mysterious ceremonies. Therefore, in the very begin- 
 ning, lies the motive of the two mothers of the hero. As 
 Rank ^- has shown us through many examples, the hero 
 is often obliged to experience exposure, and upbringing 
 by foster parents, and in this manner he acquires the two 
 mothers. A striking example is the relation of Hercules 
 to Hera. In the Hiawatha epic Wenonah dies after the 
 birth and Nokomis takes her place. Maya dies after the 
 birth ^^ and Buddha is given a stepmother. The step- 
 mother is sometimes an animal (the she-wolf of Romulus 
 and Remus, etc.). The twofold mother may be replaced 
 by the motive of twofold birth, which has attained a 
 lofty significance in the Christian mythology; namely, 
 through baptism, which, as we have seen, represents re- 
 birth. Thus man is born not merely in a commonplace 
 manner, but also born again In a mysterious manner, by 
 means of which he becomes a participator of the kingdom 
 of God, of Immortality. Any one may become a hero 
 in this way who is generated anew through his own 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER r5LE 357 
 
 mother, because only through her does he share in im- 
 mortality. Therefore, it happened that the death of 
 Christ on the cross, which creates universal salvation, was 
 understood as "baptism"; that is to say, as rebirth 
 through the second mother, the mysterious tree of death. 
 Christ says: 
 
 " But I have a baptism to be baptized with : and how am I 
 straitened till it be accomplished! " — Luke xii: 50. 
 
 He interprets his death agony symbolically as birth 
 agony. 
 
 The motive of the two mothers suggests the thought 
 of self-rejuvenation, and evidently expresses the fulfil- 
 ment of the wish that it might be possible for the mother 
 to bear me again; at the same time, applied to the heroes, 
 it means one is a hero who is borne again by her who has 
 previously been his mother; that is to say, a hero is he 
 who may again produce himself through his mother. 
 
 The countless suggestions in the history of the procrea- 
 tion of the heroes indicate the latter formulations. Hia- 
 watha's father first overpowered the mother under the 
 symbol of the bear; then himself becoming a god, he pro- 
 creates the hero. What Hiawatha had to do as hero, 
 Nokomis hinted to him in the legend of the origin of the 
 moon; he is forcibly to throw his mother upwards (or 
 throw downwards?) ; then she would become pregnant 
 by this act of violence and could bring forth a daughter. 
 This rejuvenated mother would be allotted, according to 
 the Egyptian rite, as a daughter-wife to the sun-god, the 
 father of his mother, for self-reproduction. What action 
 
358 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Hiawatha takes in this regard we shall see presently. 
 We have already studied the behavior of the pre-Asiatic 
 gods related to Christ. Concerning the pre-existence of 
 Christ, the Gospel of St. John is full of this thought. 
 Thus the speech of John the Baptist: 
 
 " This is he of whom I said, After me cometh a man which is 
 preferred before me; for he was before me." — John i: 30. 
 
 Also the beginning of the gospel is full of deep mytho- 
 logic significance : 
 
 " In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with 
 God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning 
 with God. 
 
 (3) " All things were made by him, and without him was not 
 anything made that was made. 
 
 (4) " In him was life, and the life was the light of men. 
 
 (5) " And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness com- 
 prehendeth it not. 
 
 (6) " There was a man sent from God whose name was John. 
 
 (7) "The same came for a witness, to bear witness of the 
 Light. 
 
 (8) " He was not that Light, but was sent to bear witness of 
 that Light. 
 
 (9) " That was the true Light, which lighteth every man that 
 cometh into the world." 
 
 This is the proclamation of the reappearing light, the 
 reborn sun, which formerly was, and which will be again. 
 In the baptistry at Pisa, Christ is represented bringing 
 the tree of life to man; his head is surrounded by a sun 
 halo. Over this relief stand the words Introitus Sous. 
 
 Because the one born was his own procreator, the his- 
 tory of his procreation is strangely concealed under sym- 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 359 
 
 bollc events, which are meant to conceal and deny it; 
 hence the extraordinary assertion of the virgin concep- 
 tion. This is meant to hide the incestuous impregnation. 
 But do not let us forget that this naive assertion plays an 
 unusually important part in the ingenious symbolic bridge, 
 which is to guide the libido out from the incestuous bond 
 to higher and more useful applications, which indicate a 
 new kind of immortality; that is to say, immortal work. 
 
 The environment of Hiawatha's youth is of impor- 
 tance : 
 
 " By the shores of Gitche Gumee, 
 By the shining Big-Sea-Water, 
 Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, 
 Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis. 
 Dark behind it rose the forest, 
 Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees, 
 Rose the firs with cones upon them. 
 Bright before it beat the water. 
 Beat the clear and sunny water, 
 Beat the shining Big-Sea- Water." 
 
 In this environment Nokomis brought him up. Here 
 she taught him the first words, and told him the first fairy 
 tales, and the sounds of the water and the wood were 
 intermingled, so that the child learned not only to under- 
 stand man's speech, but also that of Nature: 
 
 " At the door on summer evenings 
 Sat the little Hiawatha ; 
 Heard the whispering of the pine-trees, 
 Heard the lapping of the water, 
 Sounds of music, words of wonder: 
 ' Minne-wawa! ' ^* said the pine-trees, 
 ' Mudway-aushka! ' ^^ said the water." 
 
36o PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Hiawatha hears human speech in the sounds of Na- 
 ture; thus he understands Nature's speech. The wind 
 says, " Wawa." The cry of the wild goose is " Wawa." 
 Wah-wah-taysee means the small glowworm which en- 
 chants him. Thus the poet paints most beautifully the 
 gradual gathering of external nature into the compass of 
 the subjective/^ and the intimate connection of the pri- 
 mary object to which the first lisping words were applied, 
 and from which the first sounds were derived, with the 
 secondary object, the wider nature which usurps imper- 
 ceptibly the mother's place, and takes possession of those 
 sounds heard first from the mother, and also of those 
 feelings which we all discover later in ourselves in all 
 the warm love of Mother Nature. The later blending, 
 whether pantheistic-philosophic or aesthetic, of the senti- 
 mental, cultured man with nature is, loolced at retrospec- 
 tively, a reblending with the mother, who was our primary 
 object, and with whom we truly were once wholly one." 
 Therefore, it is not astonishing when we again see 
 emerging in the poetical speech of a modern philosopher, 
 Karl Joel, the old pictures which symbolize the unity with 
 the mother, illustrated by the confluence of subject and 
 object. In his recent book, " Seele und Welt" (1912), 
 Joel writes as follows, in the chapter called " Primal Ex- 
 perience " ^®: 
 
 " I lay on the seashore, the shining waters ghttering in my 
 dreamy eyes; at a great distance fluttered the soft breeze; throb- 
 bing, shimmering, stirring, lulling to sleep comes the wave beat to 
 the shore — or to the ear? I know not. Distance and nearness 
 become blurred into one; without and within glide into each 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 361 
 
 other. Nearer and nearer, dearer and more homelike sounds the 
 beating of the waves; now, like a thundering pulse in my head it 
 strikes, and now it beats over my soul, devours it, embraces it, 
 while it itself at the same time floats out like the blue waste of 
 waters. Yes, without and within are one. Glistening and foam- 
 ing, flowing and fanning and roaring, the entire symphony of the 
 stimuli experienced sounds in one tone, all thought becomes one 
 thought, which becomes one with feeling; the world exhales in 
 the soul and the soul dissolves in the world. Our small life is 
 encircled by a great sleep — the sleep of our cradle, the sleep of our 
 grave, the sleep of our home, from which we go forth in the morn- 
 ing, to which we again return in the evening; our life but the 
 short journey, the interval between the emergence from the orig- 
 inal oneness and the sinking back into it! Blue shimmers the 
 infinite sea, wherein dreams the jelly fish of the primitive life, 
 toward which without ceasing our thoughts hark back dimly 
 through eons of existence. For every happening entails a change 
 and a guarantee of the unity of life. At that moment when they 
 are no longer blended together, in that instant man lifts his head, 
 blind and dripping, from the depths of the stream of experience, 
 from the oneness with the experience; at that moment of parting 
 when the unity of life in startled surprise detaches the Change 
 and holds it away from itself as something alien, at this moment 
 of alienation the aspects of the experience have been substantial- 
 ized into subject and object, and in that moment consciousness is 
 born." 
 
 Joel paints here, in unmistakable symbolism, the con- 
 fluence of subject and object as the reunion of mother 
 and child. The symbols agree with those of mythology, 
 even in their details. The encircling and devouring mo- 
 tive Is distinctly suggested. The sea, devouring the sun 
 and giving birth to It anew, Is already an old acquaint- 
 ance. The moment of the rise of consciousness, the sepa- 
 ration of subject and object Is a birth; truly philosophical 
 
362 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 thought hangs with lame wings upon the few great primi- 
 tive pictures of human speech, above the simple, all-sur- 
 passing greatness of which no thought can rise. The idea 
 of the jelly fish is not " accidental." Once when I was 
 explaining to a patient the maternal significance of water 
 at this contact with the mother complex, she experienced 
 a very unpleasant feeling. " It makes me squirm," she 
 said, " as if I touched a jelly fish." Here, too, the same 
 idea ! The blessed state of sleep before birth and after 
 death is, as Joel observed, something like old shadowy 
 memories of that unsuspecting, thoughtless state of early 
 childhood, where as yet no opposition disturbed the peace- 
 ful flow of dawning life, to which the inner longing 
 always draws us back again and again, and from which 
 the active life must free itself anew with struggle and 
 death, so that it may not be doomed to destruction. Long 
 before Joel, an Indian chieftain had said the same thing 
 in similar words to one of the restless wise men: 
 
 " Ah, my brother, you will never learn to know the happiness 
 of thinking nothing and doing nothing: this is next to sleep; this 
 is the most delightful thing there is. Thus we were before birth, 
 thus we shall be after death." ^^ 
 
 We shall see in Hiawatha's later fate how important 
 his early impressions are in his choice of a wife. Hia- 
 watha's first deed was to kill a roebuck with his arrow: 
 
 " Dead he lay there in the forest, 
 By the ford across the river." 
 
 This is typical of Hiawatha's deeds. Whatever he 
 kills, for the most part, lies next to or in the water, some- 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 363 
 
 times half in the water and half on the land.^" It seems 
 that this must well be so. The later adventures will 
 teach us why this must be so. The buck was no ordinary 
 animal, but a magic one; that is to say, one with an addi- 
 tional unconscious significance. Hiawatha made for him- 
 self gloves and moccasins from its hide; the gloves im- 
 parted such strength to his arms that he could crumble 
 rocks to dust, and the moccasins had the virtue of the 
 seven-league boots. By enwrapping himself in the buck's 
 skin he really became a giant. This motive, together with 
 the death of the animal at the ford,^^ in the water, re- 
 veals the fact that the parents are concerned, whose 
 gigantic proportions as compared with the child are of 
 great significance in the unconscious. The " toys of 
 giants " is a wish inversion of the infantile phantasy. 
 The dream of an eleven-year-old girl expresses this : 
 
 " I am as high as a church steeple; then a policeman comes. I 
 tell him, ' If you say anything, I will cut off your head. ' " 
 
 The " policeman," as the analysis brought out, re- 
 ferred to the father, whose gigantic size was over-com- 
 pensated by the church steeple. In Mexican human sacri- 
 fices, the gods were represented by criminals, who were 
 slaughtered, and flayed, and the Corybantes then clothed 
 themselves in the bloody skins, In order to Illustrate the 
 resurrection of the gods." (The snake's casting of his 
 skin as a symbol of rejuvenation.) 
 
 Hiawatha has, therefore, conquered his parents, pri- 
 marily the mother, although In the form of a male ani- 
 mal (compare the bear of Mudjekeewls) ; and from that 
 
364 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 comes his giant's strength. He has taken on the parent's 
 skin and now has himself become a great man. Now he 
 started forth to his first great battle to fight with the 
 father Mudjekeewis, in order to avenge his dead mother 
 Wenonah. Naturally, under this figure of speech hides 
 the thought that he slays the father, in order to take pos- 
 session of the mother. Compare the battle of Gilgamesh 
 with the giant Chumbaba and the ensuing conquest of 
 Ishtar. The father, in the psychologic sense, merely rep- 
 resents the personification of the incest prohibition; that 
 is to say, resistance, which defends the mother. Instead 
 of the father, it may be a fearful animal (the great bear, 
 the snake, the dragon, etc.) which must be fought and 
 overcome. The hero is a hero because he sees in every 
 difficulty of life resistance to the forbidden treasure, and 
 fights that resistance with the complete yearning which 
 strives towards the treasure, attainable with difficulty, or 
 unattainable, the yearning which paralyzes and kills the 
 ordinary man. 
 
 Hiawatha's father is Mudjekeewis, the west wind; the 
 battle, therefore, takes place in the west. Thence came 
 life (impregnation of Wenonah) ; thence also came 
 death (death of Wenonah). Hiawatha, therefore, 
 fights the typical battle of the hero for rebirth in the 
 western sea, the battle with the devouring terrible 
 mother, this time in the form of the father. Mudje- 
 keewis, who himself had acquired a divine nature, through 
 his conquest of the bear, now is overpowered by his son: 
 
 " Back retreated Mudjekeewis, 
 Rushing westward o'er the mountains, 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 365 
 
 Stumbling westward down the mountains, 
 
 Three whole dajs retreated fighting, 
 
 Still pursued bj^ Hiawatha 
 
 To the doorways of the West- Wind, 
 
 To the portals of the Sunset, 
 
 To the earth's remotest border. 
 
 Where into the empty spaces 
 
 Sinks the sun, as a flamingo 
 
 Drops into her nest at nightfall." 
 
 The " three days " are a stereotyped form represent- 
 ing the stay in the sea prison of night. (Twenty-first 
 until twenty- fourth of December.) Christ, too, remained 
 three days in the underworld. " The treasure, difficult 
 to attain," is captured by the hero during this struggle 
 in the west. In this case the father must make a great 
 concession to the son; he gives him divine nature,-^ that 
 very wind nature, the immortality of which alone pro- 
 tected Mudjekeewis from death. He says to his son: 
 
 " I will share my kingdom with you. 
 Ruler shall you be henceforward. 
 Of the Northwest-Wind, Keewaydin, 
 Of the home-wind, the Keewaydin." 
 
 That Hiawatha now becomes ruler of the home-wind 
 has its close parallel in the Gilgamesh epic, where Gilga- 
 mesh finally receives the magic herb from the wise old 
 Utnapishtim, who dwells in the West, which brings him 
 safe once more over the sea to his home; but this, when 
 he is home again, is retaken from him by a serpent. 
 
 When one has slain the father, one can obtain posses- 
 sion of his wife, and when one has conquered the mother, 
 one can free one's self. 
 
366 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 On the return journey Hiawatha stops at the clever 
 arrow-maker's, who possesses a lovely daughter : 
 
 " And he named her from the river, 
 From the water-fall he named her, 
 Minnehaha, Laughing Water." 
 
 When Hiawatha, in his earliest childhood dreaming, 
 felt the sounds of water and wind press upon his ears, 
 he recognized in these sounds of nature the speech of his 
 mother. The murmuring pine trees on the shore of the 
 great sea, said " MInnewawa." And above the murmur- 
 ing of the winds and the splashing of the water he found 
 his earliest childhood dreams once again in a woman, 
 " Minnehaha," the laughing water. And the hero, be- 
 fore all others, finds In woman the mother. In order to 
 become a child again, and, finally, to solve the riddle of 
 immortality. 
 
 The fact that Minnehaha's father is a skilful arrow- 
 maker betrays him as the father of the hero (and the 
 woman he had with him as the mother). The father of 
 the hero Is very often a skilful carpenter, or other 
 artisan. According to an Arabian legend, Tare,^* Abra- 
 ham's father, was a skilful master workman, who could 
 carve arrows from any wood; that Is to say, in the 
 Arabian form of speech, he was a procreator of splendid 
 sons.'^ Moreover, he was a maker of Images of gods. 
 Tvashtar, Agnl's father. Is the maker of the world, a 
 smith and carpenter, the discoverer of fire-boring. Jo- 
 seph, the father of Jesus, was also a carpenter; likewise 
 Kinyras, Adonis's father, who Is said to have Invented 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 367 
 
 the hammer, the lever, roofing and mining. Hephaestus, 
 the father of Hermes, is an artistic master workman and 
 sculptor. In fairy tales, the father of the hero is very 
 modestly the traditional wood-cutter. These conceptions 
 were also alive in the cult of Osiris. There the divine 
 image was carved out of a tree trunk and then placed 
 within the hollow of the tree. (Frazer: "Golden 
 Bough," Part IV.) In Rigveda, the world was also hewn 
 out of a tree by the world-sculptor. The idea that the 
 hero is his own procreator -" leads to the fact that he is 
 invested with paternal attributes, and reversedly the he- 
 roic attributes are given to the father. In Mani there 
 exists a beautiful union of the motives. He accomplishes 
 his great labors as a religious founder, hides himself for 
 years in a cave, he dies, is skinned, stuffed and hung up 
 (hero). Besides he is an artist, and has a crippled foot. 
 A similar union of motives is found in Wieland, the 
 smith. 
 
 Hiawatha kept silent about what he saw at the old 
 arrow-maker's on his return to Nokomis, and he did 
 nothing further to win Minnehaha. But now something 
 happened, which, if it were not in an Indian epic, would 
 rather be sought in the history of a neurosis. Hiawatha 
 introverted his libido; that is to say, he fell Into an ex- 
 treme resistance against the " real sexual demand " 
 (Freud) ; he built a hut for himself in the wood, in order 
 to fast there and to experience dreams and visions. For 
 the first three days he Vv^andered, as once in his earliest 
 youth, through a forest and looked at all the animals 
 and plants: 
 
368 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 " * Master of life! ' he cried, desponding, 
 * Must our lives depend on these things? ' " 
 
 The question whether our lives must depend upon 
 " these things " is very strange. It sounds as if life were 
 derived from these things; that is to say, from nature 
 in general. Nature seems suddenly to have assumed a 
 very strange significance. This phenomenon can be ex- 
 plained only through the fact that a great amount of 
 libido was stored up and now is given to nature. As is 
 well known, men of even dull and prosy minds, in the 
 springtime of love, suddenly become aware of nature, 
 and even make poems about it. But we know that libido, 
 prevented from an actual way of transference, always re- 
 verts to an earlier way of transference. Minnehaha, the 
 laughing water, is so clearly an allusion to the mother 
 that the secret yearning of the hero for the mother is 
 powerfully touched. Therefore, without having under- 
 taken anything, he goes home to Nokomis; but there again 
 he is driven away, because Minnehaha already stands in 
 his path. 
 
 He turns, therefore, even further away, into that early 
 youthful period, the tones of which recall Minnehaha 
 most forcibly to his thoughts, where he learnt to hear 
 the mother-sounds in the sounds of nature. In this very 
 strange revival of the impressions of nature we recognize 
 a regression to those earliest and strongest nature im- 
 pressions which stand next to the subsequently extin- 
 guished, even stronger, impressions which the child re- 
 ceived from the mother. The glamour of this feeling for 
 her is transferred to other objects of the childish environ- 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 369 
 
 ment (father's house, playthings, etc.), from which later 
 those magic blissful feelings proceed, which seem to be 
 peculiar to the earliest childish memories. When, there- 
 fore, Hiawatha hides himself in the lap of nature, it is 
 really the mother's womb, and it is to be expected that he 
 will emerge again new-born in some form. 
 
 Before turning to this new creation arising from intro- 
 version, there is still a further significance of the pre- 
 ceding question to be considered: whether life is de- 
 pendent upon " these things " ? Life may depend upon 
 these things in the degree that they serve for nourish- 
 ment. We must infer in this case that suddenly the ques- 
 tion of nutrition came very near the hero's heart. (This 
 possibility will be thoroughly proven in what follows.) 
 The question of nutrition, indeed, enters seriously into 
 consideration. First, because regression to the mother 
 necessarily revives that special path of transference; 
 namely, that of nutrition through the mother. As soon 
 as the libido regresses to the presexual stage, there we 
 may expect to see the function of nutrition and its sym- 
 bols put in place of the sexual function. Thence is de- 
 rived an essential root of the displacement from below 
 upwards (Freud), because, in the presexual stage, the 
 principal value belongs not to the genitals, but to 
 the mouth. Secondly, because the hero fasted, his 
 hunger becomes predominant. Fasting, as is well known, 
 is employed to silence sexuality; also, it expresses sym- 
 bolically the resistance against sexuality, translated into 
 the language of the presexual stage. On the fourth day 
 of his fast the hero ceased to address himself to nature; 
 
370 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 he lay exhausted, with half-closed eyes, upon his couch, 
 sunk deep in dreams, the picture of extreme introversion. 
 We have already seen that, in such circumstances, an 
 infantile internal equivalent for reality appears, in the 
 place of external life and reality. This is also the case 
 with Hiawatha: 
 
 " And he saw a youth approaching, 
 Dressed in garments green and yellow, 
 Coming through the purple twilight, 
 Through the splendor of the sunset ; 
 Plumes- of green bent o'er his forehead, 
 And his hair was soft and golden." 
 
 This remarkable apparition reveals himself in the fol- 
 lowing manner to Hiawatha : 
 
 " From the Master of Life descending, 
 I, the friend of man, Mondamin, 
 Come to warn you and instruct you, 
 How by struggle and by labor 
 You shall gain what you have prayed for. 
 Rise up from your bed of branches; 
 Rise, O youth, and wrestle with me ! " 
 
 Mondamin is the maize : a god, who is eaten, arising 
 from Hiawatha's introversion. His hunger, taken in a 
 double sense, his longing for the nourishing mother, gives 
 birth from his soul to another hero, the edible maize, the 
 son of the earth mother. Therefore, he again arises at 
 sunset, symbolizing the entrance into the mother, and in 
 the western sunset glow he begins again the mystic strug- 
 gle with the self-created god, the god who has originated 
 entirely from the longing for the nourishing mother. 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 37 1 
 
 The struggle Is again the struggle for liberation from this 
 destructive and yet productive longing. Mondamin is, 
 therefore, equivalent to the mother, and the struggle with 
 him means the overpowering and impregnation of the 
 mother. This interpretation is entirely proven by a 
 myth of the Cherokees, "who invoke it (the maize) 
 under the name of ' The Old Woman,' in allusion to a 
 myth that it sprang from the blood of an old woman 
 killed by her disobedient sons ' " : " 
 
 " Faint with famine, Hiawatha 
 Started from his bed of branches, 
 From the twilight of his wigwam 
 Forth into the flush of sunset 
 Came, and wrestled with Mondamin; 
 At his touch he felt new courage 
 Throbbing in his brain and bosom, 
 Felt new life and hope and vigor 
 Run through every nerve and fibre." 
 
 The battle at sunset with the god of the maize gives 
 Hiawatha new strength; and thus it must be, because the 
 fight for the individual depths, against the paralyzing 
 longing for the mother, gives creative strength to men. 
 Here, indeed, is the source of all creation, but it demands 
 heroic courage to fight against these forces and to wrest 
 from them the " treasure difficult to attain." He who 
 succeeds in this has, in truth, attained the best. Hiawatha 
 wrestles with himself for his creation.^^ The struggle 
 lasts again the charmed three days. The fourth day, just 
 as Mondamin prophesied, Hiawatha conquers him, and 
 Mondamin sinks to the orround in death. As Mondamin 
 
372 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 previously desired, Hiawatha digs his grave in mother 
 earth, and soon afterwards from this grave the young 
 and fresh maize grows for the nourishment of mankind. 
 Concerning the thought of this fragment, we have 
 therein a beautiful parallel to the mystery of Mithra, 
 where first the battle of the hero with his bull occurs. 
 Afterwards Mithra carries in " transitus " the bull into 
 the cave, where he kills him. From this death all fer- 
 tility grows, all that is edible."'' The cave corresponds 
 to the grave. The same idea is represented in the Chris- 
 tian mysteries, although generally in more beautiful 
 human forms. The soul struggle of Christ in Geth- 
 semane, where he struggles with himself in order to com- 
 plete his work, then the " transitus," the carrying of the 
 cross, ^° where he takes upon himself the symbol of the 
 destructive mother, and therewith takes himself to the 
 sacrificial grave, from which, after three days, he tri- 
 umphantly arises; all these ideas express the same funda- 
 mental thoughts. Also, the symbol of eating is not lack- 
 ing in the Christian mystery. Christ is a god who is eaten 
 in the Lord's Supper. His death transforms him into 
 bread and wine, which we partake of in grateful memory 
 of his great deed.^^ The relation of Agni to the Soma- 
 drink and that of Dionysus to wine ^^ must not be omitted 
 here. An evident parallel is Samson's rending of the 
 lion, and the subsequent inhabitation of the dead lion by 
 honey bees, which gives rise to the well-known German 
 riddle : 
 
 " Speise ging von dem Fresser und Siissigkeit von dem Starken 
 (Food went from the glutton and sweet from the strong)." ^^ 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 373 
 
 In the Eleusinian mysteries these thoughts seem to 
 have played a role. Besides Demeter and Persephone, 
 lakchos is a chief god of the Eleusinian cult; he was the 
 " puer asternus," the eternal boy, of whom Ovid says the 
 following: 
 
 " Tu puer Eeternus, tu formosissimus alto 
 Conspiceris cceIo tibi, cum sine cornibus astas, 
 Virgineum caput est," etc.* 
 
 In the great Eleusinian festival procession the image 
 of lakchos was carried. It is not easy to say which god 
 is lakchos, possibly a boy, or a new-born son, similar to 
 the Etrurian Tages, who bears the surname " the freshly 
 ploughed boy," because, according to the myth, he arose 
 from the furrow of the field behind the peasant, who was 
 ploughing. This idea shows unmistakably the Mondamin 
 motive. The plough is of well-known phallic meaning; 
 the furrow of the field is personified by the Hindoos as 
 woman. The psychology of this idea is that of a coitus, 
 referred back to the presexual stage (stage of nutri- 
 tion). The son is the edible fruit of the field. lakchos 
 passes, in part, as son of Demeter or of Persephone, 
 also appropriately as consort of Demeter. (Hero as pro- 
 creator of himself.) He is also called tt/s" ^r/ixrjrpo? 
 SaipiGJv [Aaifjioov equals libido, also Mother libido.) He 
 was Identified with Dionysus, especially with the Thraclan 
 DIonysus-Zagreus, of whom a typical fate of rebirth was 
 related. Hera had goaded the Titans against Zagreus, 
 
 * Thou boy eternal, thou most beautiful one seen in the heavens, with- 
 out horns standing, with thy virgin head, etc. 
 
374 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 who, assuming many forms, sought to escape them, until 
 they finally took him when he had taken on the form of a 
 bull. In this form he was killed (Mithra sacrifice) and 
 dismembered, and the pieces were thrown into a caul- 
 dron; but Zeus killed the Titans by lightning, and swal- 
 lowed the still-throbbing heart of Zagreus. Through this 
 act he gave him existence once more, and Zagreus as 
 lakchos again came forth. 
 
 lakchos carries the torch, the phallic symbol of procrea- 
 tion, as Plato testifies. In the festival procession, the 
 sheaf of corn, the cradle of lakchos, was carried. 
 (Xhivov, mystica vannus lacchi.) The Orphic legend^* 
 relates that lakchos was brought up by Persephone, when, 
 after three years' slumber in the Xihvov,* he awoke. This 
 statement distinctly suggests the Mondamin motive. The 
 20th of Boedromion (the month Boedromion lasts from 
 about the 5th of September to the 5th of October) is 
 called lakchos, in honor of the hero. On the evening 
 of this day the great torchlight procession took place on 
 the seashore, in which the quest and lament of Demeter 
 was represented. The role of Demeter, who, seeking 
 her daughter, wanders over the whole earth without food 
 or drink, has been taken over by Hiawatha in the Indian 
 epic. He turns to all created things without obtaining an 
 answer. As Demeter first learns of her daughter from 
 the subterranean Hecate, so does Hiawatha first find the 
 one sought for, Mondamin,^' in the deepest introversion 
 (descent to the mother). Hiawatha produces from him- 
 self, Mondamin, as a mother produces the son. The 
 
 * A winnowing fan used as cradle. 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 375 
 
 longing for the mother also nicludes the producing 
 mother (first devouring, then birth-giving). Concern- 
 ing the real contents of the mysteries, we learn through 
 the testimony of Bishop Asterius, about 390 A.D., the 
 following : 
 
 " Is not there (in Eleusis) the gloomiest descent, and the most 
 solemn communion of the hierophant and the priestess; between 
 him and her alone? Are the torches not extinguished, and does 
 not the vast multitude regard as their salvation that which takes 
 place between the two in the darkness? 
 
 That points undoubtedly to a ritual marriage, which was 
 celebrated subterraneously in mother earth. The Priest- 
 ess of Demeter seems to be the representative of the earth 
 goddess, perhaps the furrow of the field." The descent 
 into the earth is also the symbol of the mother's womb, 
 and was a widespread conception under the form of 
 cave worship. Plutarch relates of the Magi that they 
 sacrificed to Ahriman, ei? tottov dvrfXiov.^ Lukian lets 
 the magician Mithrobarzanes ei? x^P^'^'^ i'prjfxov nai 
 vXwdei uai avt^Xior,\ descend into the bowels of the earth. 
 According to the testimony of Moses of the Koran, the 
 sister Fire and the brother Spring were worshipped in 
 Armenia in a cave. Julian gave an account from the 
 Attis legend of a HaTa/Saffi? eh avrpov^\ from whence 
 Cybele brings up her son lover, that is to say, gives birth 
 to him.^* The cave of Christ's birth, in Bethlehem 
 ('House of Bread'), is said to have been an Attis 
 spelaeum. 
 
 * In a sunless place. 
 
 t Descend into a sunless desert place. 
 
 t Descent into a cave. 
 
376 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 A further Eleusinian symbolism is found in the festival 
 of Hierosgamos, in the form of the mystic chests, which, 
 according to the testimony of Clemens of Alexandria, 
 may have contained pastry, salt and fruits. The synthema 
 (confession) of the mystic transmitted by Clemens is sug- 
 gestive in still other directions : 
 
 " I have fasted, I have drunk of the barleydrink, I have taken 
 from the chest and after I have labored, I have placed it back in 
 the basket, and from the basket into the chest." 
 
 The question as to what lay in the chest is explained 
 in detail by Dieterich.^^ The labor he considers a phallic 
 activity, which the mystic has to perform. In fact, rep- 
 resentations of the mystic basket are given, wherein lies 
 a phallus surrounded by fruits.^" Upon the so-called 
 Lovatelli tomb vase, the sculptures of which are under- 
 stood to be Eleusinian ceremonies, it is shown how a 
 mystic caressed the serpent entwining Demeter. The 
 caressing of the fear animal indicates a religious conquer- 
 ing of incest.*^ According to the testimony of Clemens of 
 Alexandria, a serpent was in the chest. The serpent in 
 this connection is naturally of phallic nature, the phallus 
 which is forbidden in relation to the mother. Rohde 
 mentions that in the Arrhetophories, pastry, in the form 
 of phalli and serpents, were thrown into the cave near 
 the Thesmophorion. This custom was a petition for the 
 bestowal of children and harvest.*^ The snake also plays 
 a large part in initiations under the remarkable title 
 o dia HoXnov 6e6?. * Clemens observes that the symbol 
 
 * He who achieved divinity through the womb. 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 377 
 
 of the Sabazios mysteries Is 6 did koXtcoov Oeo?, dpocuoDv 
 6e iffTi Hal ovto? SisXHopievo? tov hoXtiov tcov reXovjui- 
 
 Through Arnobius we learn: 
 
 " Aureus coluber in sinum demittitur consecratis et eximitur 
 rursus ab inferioribus partibus atque imis." f 
 
 In the Orphic Hymn 52, Bacchus is invoked by 
 VTroHoXTtie^X which indicates that the god enters into 
 man as if through the female genitals." According to 
 the testimony of Hippolytus, the hierophant in the mys- 
 tery exclaimed ispov i'tSKe norvta Hovpov, Bpi/xco fipi/j.6v 
 (the revered one has brought forth a holy boy, Brimos 
 from Brimo). This Christmas gospel, "Unto us a son 
 is born," is illustrated especially through the tradition ** 
 that the Athenians " secretly show to the partakers in 
 the Epoptia, the great and wonderful and most perfect 
 Epoptic mystery, a mown stalk of wheat." *^ 
 
 The parallel for the motive of death and resurrection 
 is the motive of losing and finding. The motive appears 
 in religious rites in exactly the same connection, namely, 
 in spring festivities similar to the Hierosgamos, where 
 the image of the god was hidden and found again. It is 
 an uncanonical tradition that Moses left his father's 
 house when twelve years old to teach mankind. In a 
 similar manner Christ is lost by his parents, and they 
 find him again as a teacher of wisdom, just as in the Mo- 
 
 * He who achieved divinity through the womb; he is a serpent, and he 
 was drawn through the womb of those who were being initiated. 
 
 t The golden serpent is crowded into the breast of the initiates and is 
 then drawn out through the lowest parts. 
 
 :{: O Foetus, he who is in the vagina or womb. 
 
378 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 hammedan legend Moses and Joshua lose the fish, and 
 in his place Chidher, the teacher of wisdom, appears 
 (like the boy Jesus in the temple) ; so does the corn god, 
 lost and believed to be dead, suddenly arise again from 
 his mother into renewed youth. (That Christ was laid 
 in the manger is suggestive of fodder. Robertson, there- 
 fore, places the manger as parallel to the liknon.) 
 
 We understand from these accounts why the Eleusin- 
 ian mysteries were for the mystic so rich in comfort for 
 the hope of a better world. A beautiful Eleusinian epi- 
 taph shows this : 
 
 " Truly, a beautiful secret is proclaimed by the blessed Gods! 
 Mortality is not a curse, but death a blessing! " 
 
 The hymn to Demeter ^^ in the mysteries also says the 
 same: 
 
 " Blessed is he, the earth-born man, who hath seen this! 
 Who hath not shared in these divine ceremonies, 
 He hath an unequal fate in the obscure darkness of death." 
 
 Immortality is inherent in the Eleusinian symbol; in a 
 church song of the nineteenth century by Samuel Preis- 
 werk we discover it again : 
 
 " The world is yours, Lord Jesus, 
 The world, on which we stand, 
 Because it is thy world 
 It cannot perish. 
 Only the wheat, before it comes 
 Up to the light in its fertility, 
 Must die in the bosom of the earth 
 First freed from its own nature. 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 379 
 
 " Thou goest, O Lord, our chief, 
 To heaven through thy sorrows, 
 And guide him who believes 
 In thee on the same path. 
 Then take us all equally 
 To share in thy sorrows and kingdoms, 
 Guide us through thy gate of death, 
 Bring thy world into the light." 
 
 FIrmicus relates concerning the Attis mysteries: 
 
 " Nocte quadam simulacrum in lectica supinum ponltur et per 
 numeros digestis fletibus plangitur; deinde cum se ficta lamenta- 
 tione satiaverint, lumen infertur : tunc a sacerdote omnium qui 
 flebant fauces unguentur, quibus perunctis sacerdos hoc lento mur- 
 mure SUSUrrat: ' Qappelre /nvarai tov deov aeauafiEvoveaTai yap y/ilv in ndvov 
 cuTijpia.' " * 
 
 Such parallels show how little human personality and 
 how much divine, that is to say, universally human, is 
 found in the Christ mystery. No man is or, indeed, ever 
 was, a hero, for the hero is a god, and, therefore, im- 
 personal and generally applicable to all. Christ is a 
 " spirit," as is shown in the very early Christian inter- 
 pretation. In different places of the earth, and in the 
 most varied forms and in the coloring of various periods, 
 the Savior-hero appears as a fruit of the entrance of the 
 libido into the personal maternal depths. The Bacchian 
 consecrations represented upon the Farnese relief contain 
 
 * On a certain night an image is placed lying down in a litter; there 
 is ■weeping and lamentations among the people, with beatings of bodies 
 and tears. After a time, when they have become exhausted from the 
 lamentations, a light appears; then the priest anoints the throats of all 
 those who were weeping, and softly whispers, " Take courage, O initiates 
 of the Redeemed Divinity; you shall achieve salvation through your 
 grief." 
 
38o PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 a scene where a mystic wrapped in a mantle, drawn over 
 his head, was led to Silen, who holds the ^'Xxxyov^^ 
 (chalice), covered with a cloth. The covering of the 
 head signifies death. The mystic dies, figuratively, like 
 the seed corn, grows again and comes to the corn har- 
 vest. Proclus relates that the mystics were buried up to 
 their necks. The Christian church as a place of religious 
 ceremony is really nothing but the grave of a hero (cata- 
 combs). The believer descends into the grave, in order 
 to rise from the dead with the hero. That the meaning 
 underlying the church is that of the mother's womb can 
 scarcely be doubted. The symbols of Mass are so dis- 
 tinct that the mythology of the sacred act peeps out 
 everywhere. It is the magic charm of rebirth. The ven- 
 eration of the Holy Sepulchre is most plain in this re- 
 spect. A striking example is the Holy Sepulchre of St. 
 Stefano in Bologna. The church itself, a very old polyg- 
 onal building, consists of the remains of a temple to Isis. 
 The interior contains an artificial spelaeum, a so-called 
 Holy Sepulchre, into which one creeps through a very 
 little door. After a long sojourn, the believer reappears 
 reborn from this mother's womb. An Etruscan ossuarium 
 in the archaeological museum in Florence is at the same 
 time a statue of Matuta, the goddess of death; the clay 
 figure of the goddess is hollowed within as a receptacle 
 for the ashes. The representations indicate that Matuta 
 is the mother. Her chair is adorned with sphinxes, as a 
 fitting symbol for the mother of death. 
 
 Only a few of the further deeds of Hiawatha can in- 
 terest us here. Among these is the battle with Mishe- 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 381 
 
 Nahma, the fish-king, in the eighth song. This deserves 
 to be mentioned as a typical battle of the sun-hero. 
 Mishe-Nahma is a fish monster, who dwells at the bottom 
 of the waters. Challenged by Hiawatha to battle, he de- 
 vours the hero, together with his boat: 
 
 " In his wrath he darted upward, 
 Flashing leaped into the sunshine, 
 Opened his great jaws, and swallowed 
 Both canoe and Hiawatha. 
 
 ** Down into that darksome cavern 
 Plunged the headlong Hiawatha, 
 As a log on some black river 
 Shoots and plunges down the rapids, 
 Found himself in utter darkness, 
 Groped about in helpless wonder. 
 Till he felt a great heart beating. 
 Throbbing in that utter darkness. 
 And he smote it in his anger. 
 With his fist, the heart of Nahma, 
 Felt the mighty king of fishes 
 Shudder through each nerve and fibre. 
 
 Crosswise then did Hiawatha 
 Drag his birch-canoe for safety. 
 Lest from out the jaws of Nahma, 
 In the turmoil and confusion, 
 Forth he might be hurled, and perish." 
 
 It is the typical myth of the work of the hero, dis- 
 tributed over the entire world. He takes to a boat, fights 
 with the sea monster, is devoured, he defends himself 
 against being bitten or crushed*^ (resistance or stamp- 
 ing motive) ; having arrived in the interior of the " whale 
 dragon," he seeks the vital organ, which he cuts off 
 
382 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 or in some way destroys. Often the death of the 
 monster occurs as the result of a fire which the hero 
 secretly makes within him; he mysteriously creates in the 
 womb of death Hfe, the rising sun. Thus dies the fish, 
 which drifts ashore, where, with the assistance of 
 " birds," the hero again attains the light of day.*^ The 
 bird in this sense probably means the reascent of the sun, 
 the longing of the libido, the rebirth of the phoenix. 
 (The longing is very frequently represented by the sym- 
 bol of hovering.) The sun symbol of the bird rising from 
 the water is (etymologically) contained in the singing 
 swan. " Swan " is derived from the root sven, like 
 sun and tone. (See the preceding.) This act signifies 
 rebirth, and the bringing forth of life from the mother,^^ 
 and by this means the ultimate destruction of death, 
 which, according to a Negro myth, has come into the 
 world, through the mistake of an old woman, who, at 
 the time of the general casting of skins (for men re- 
 newed their youth through casting their skin like 
 snakes), drew on, through absent-mindedness, her old 
 skin instead of a new one, and as a result died. But the 
 effect of such an act could not be of any duration. Again 
 and again troubles of the hero are renewed, always under 
 the symbol of deliverance from the mother. Just as Hera 
 (as the pursuing mother) is the real source of the great 
 deeds of Hercules, so does Nokomis allow Hiawatha no 
 rest, and raises up new difficulties in his path, in form of 
 desperate adventures in which the hero may perhaps con- 
 quer, but also, perhaps, may perish. The libido of man- 
 kind is always in advance of his consciousness; unless his 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 383 
 
 libido calls him forth to new dangers he sinks into sloth- 
 ful inactivity or, on the other hand, childish longing for 
 the mother overcomes him at the summit of his existence, 
 and he allows himself to become pitifully weak, instead 
 of striving with desperate courage towards the highest. 
 The mother becomes the demon, who summons the hero 
 to adventure, and who also places in his path the poison- 
 ous serpent, which will strike him. Thus Nokomis, in the 
 ninth song, calls Hiawatha, points with her hand to the 
 west, where the sun sets in purple splendor, and says to 
 him: 
 
 " Yonder dwells the great Pearl-Feather, 
 Megissogwon, the Magician, 
 Manito of Wealth and Wampum, 
 Guarded by his fiery serpents, 
 Guarded by the black pitch-water. 
 You can see his fiery serpents. 
 The Kenabeek, the great serpents. 
 Coiling, playing in the water." 
 
 This danger lurking in the west is known to mean 
 death, which no one, even the mightiest, escapes. This 
 magician, as we learn, also killed the father of Nokomis. 
 Now she sends her son forth to avenge the father 
 (Horus). Through the symbols attributed to the magi- 
 cian it may easily be recognized what he symbolizes. 
 Snake and water belong to the mother, the snake as a 
 symbol of the repressed longing for the mother, or, in 
 other words, as a symbol of resistance, encircles protect- 
 ingly and defensively the maternal rock, inhabits the cave, 
 winds itself upwards around the mother tree and guards 
 
384 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 the precious hoard, the " mysterious " treasure. The 
 black Stygian water is, like the black, muddy spring of 
 Dhulqarnein, the place where the sun dies and enters into 
 rebirth, the maternal sea of death and night. On his 
 journey thither Hiawatha takes with him the magic oil 
 of Mishe-Nahma, which helps his boat through the waters 
 of death. (Also a sort of charm for immortality, like 
 the dragon's blood for Siegfried, etc.) 
 
 First, Hiawatha slays the great serpent. Of the 
 " night journey in the sea " over the Stygian waters it is 
 written : 
 
 " All night long he sailed upon it, 
 Sailed upon that sluggish water, 
 Covered with its mould of ages, 
 Black with rotting water-rushes, 
 Rank with flags, and leaves of lilies, 
 Stagnant, lifeless, dreary, dismal. 
 Lighted by the shimmering moonlight 
 And by will-o'-the-wisps illumined, 
 Fires by ghosts of dead men kindled. 
 In their weary night encampments." 
 
 The description plainly shows the character of a water 
 of death. The contents of the water point to an already 
 mentioned motive, that of encoiling and devouring. It is 
 said in the " Key to Dreams of Jagaddeva " : ^° 
 
 " Whoever in dreams surrounds his body with bast, creepers or 
 ropes, with snake-skins, threads, or tissues, dies." 
 
 I refer to the preceding arguments in regard to this. 
 Having come into the west land, the hero challenges the 
 magician to battle. A terrible struggle begins. Hia- 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 385 
 
 watha Is powerless, because Megissogwon is invulner- 
 able. At evening Hiawatha retires wounded, despairing 
 for a while, in order to rest: 
 
 " Paused to rest beneath a pine-tree, 
 From whose branches trailed the mosses, 
 And whose trunk was coated over 
 With the Dead-man's Moccasin-leather, 
 With the fungus white and yellow." 
 
 This protecting tree is described as coated over with 
 the moccasin leather of the dead, the fungus. This in- 
 vesting of the tree with anthromorphic attributes is also 
 an important rite wherever tree worship prevails, as, for 
 example, in India, where each village has its sacred tree, 
 which is clothed and in general treated as a human being. 
 The trees are anointed with fragrant waters, sprinkled 
 with powder, adorned with garlands and draperies. Just 
 as among men, the piercing of the ears was performed 
 as an apotropaic charm against death, so does it occur 
 with the holy tree. Of all the trees of India there is none 
 more sacred to the Hindoos than the Aswatha (Ficus re- 
 ligiosa). It is known to them as Vriksha Raja (king of 
 trees), Brahma, Vishnu and Mahesvar live in it, and the 
 worship of it is the worship of the triad. Almost every 
 Indian village has an Aswatha, ^^ etc. This " village 
 linden tree," well known to us, is here clearly character- 
 ized as the mother symbol; it contains the three gods. 
 
 Hence, when Hiawatha retires to rest under the pine- 
 tree," it is a dangerous step, because he resigns himself 
 to the mother, whose garment is the garment of death 
 (the devouring mother). As in the whale-dragon, the 
 
386 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 hero also in this situation needs a "helpful bird"; that 
 is to say, the helpful animals, which represent the benevo- 
 lent parents : 
 
 " Suddenly from the boughs above him 
 Sang the Mama, the woodpecker; 
 ' Aim your arrows, Hiawatha, 
 At the head of Megissogwon, 
 Strike the tuft of hair upon it. 
 At their roots the long black tresses; 
 There alone can he be wounded.' " 
 
 Now, amusing to relate. Mama hurried to his help. 
 It is a peculiar fact that the woodpecker was also the 
 " Mama " of Romulus and Remus, who put nourishment 
 into the mouths of the twins with his beak.^'* (Compare 
 with that the role of the vulture in Leonardo's dream. 
 The vulture is sacred to Mars, like the woodpecker.) 
 With the maternal significance of the woodpecker, the 
 ancient Italian folk-superstition agrees: that from the 
 tree upon which this bird nested any nail which has been 
 driven in will soon drop out again. ^'* The woodpecker 
 owes its special significance to the circumstance that he 
 hammers holes into trees. ("To drive nails in," as 
 above!) It is, therefore, understandable that he was 
 made much of in the Roman legend as an old king of 
 the country, a possessor or ruler of the holy tree, the 
 primitive image of the Paterfamilias. An old fable re- 
 lates how Circe, the spouse of King Picus, transformed 
 him into the Picus Martins, the woodpecker. The sorcer- 
 ess is the " new-creating mother," who has " magic in- 
 fluence " upon the sun-husband. She kills him, trans- 
 
 J 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 387 
 
 forms him into the soul-bird, the unfulfilled wish. Picus 
 was also understood as the wood demon and incubus, as 
 well as the soothsayer, all of which fully indicate the 
 mother libido. ^^ Picus was often placed on a par with 
 Picumnus by the ancients. Picumnus is the inseparable 
 companion of Pilumnus, and both are actually called in- 
 fantiiim dii, " the gods of little children." Especially it 
 was said of Pilumnus that he defended new-born children 
 against the destroying attacks of the wood demon, Sil- 
 vanus. (Good and bad mother, the motive of the two 
 mothers.) 
 
 The benevolent bird, a wish thought of deliverance 
 which arises from introversion,^** advises the hero to shoot 
 the magician under the hair, which is the only vulner- 
 able spot. This spot is the " phallic " point," if one may 
 venture to say so; it is at the top of the head, at the place 
 where the mystic birth from the head takes place, which 
 even today appears in children's sexual theories. Into 
 that Hiawatha shoots (one may say, very naturally) 
 three arrows ^* (the well-known phallic symbol) , and thus 
 kills Megissogwon. Thereupon he steals the magic wam- 
 pum armor, which renders him invulnerable (means of 
 immortality). He significantly leaves the dead lying in 
 the water — because the magician is the fearful mother: 
 
 " On the shore he left the body, 
 Half on land and half in water, 
 In the sand his feet were buried, 
 And his face was in the water." 
 
 Thus the situation is the same as with the fish king, 
 because the monster is the personification of the water 
 
388 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 of death, which in its turn represents the devouring 
 mother. This great deed of Hiawatha's, where he has 
 vanquished the mother as the death-bringing demon," 
 is followed by his marriage with Minnehaha. 
 
 A little fable which the poet has inserted in the later 
 song is noteworthy. An old man is transformed into a 
 youth, by crawling through a hollow oak tree. 
 
 In the fourteenth song is a description of how Hia- 
 watha discovers writing. I limit myself to the descrip- 
 tion of two hieroglyphic tokens : 
 
 " Gitche Manito the Mighty, 
 He, the Master of Life, was painted 
 As an egg, with points projecting 
 To the four winds of the heavens. 
 Everywhere is the Great Spirit, 
 Was the meaning of this symbol." 
 
 The world lies in the egg, which encompasses it at 
 every point; it is the cosmic woman with child, the sym- 
 bol of which Plato as well as the Vedas has made use of. 
 This mother is like the air, which is everywhere. But air 
 is spirit; the mother of the world is a spirit: 
 
 " Mitche Manito the Mighty, 
 He the dreadful Spirit of Evil, 
 As a serpent was depicted. 
 As Kenabeek, the great serpent." 
 
 But the spirit of evil is fear, is the forbidden desire, 
 the adversary who opposes not only each individual heroic 
 deed, but life in its struggle for eternal duration as well, 
 and who introduces into our body the poison of weak- 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 389 
 
 ness and age through the treacherous bite of the serpent. 
 It is all that is retrogressive, and as the model of our 
 first world is our mother, all retrogressive tendencies are 
 towards the mother, and, therefore, are disguised under 
 the incest image. 
 
 In both these ideas the poet has represented in mytho- 
 logic symbols the libido arising from the mother and 
 the libido striving backward towards the mother. 
 
 There is a description in the fifteenth song how Chibia- 
 bos, Hiawatha's best friend, the amiable player and singer, 
 the embodiment of the joy of life, was enticed by the evil 
 spirits into ambush, fell through the ice and was drowned. 
 Hiawatha mourns for him so long that he succeeds, with 
 the aid of the magician, in calling him back again. But the 
 revivified friend is only a spirit, and he becomes master of 
 the land of spirits. (Osiris, lord of the underworld; the 
 two Dioscuri.) Battles again follow, and then comes the 
 loss of a second friend, Kwasind, the embodiment of 
 physical strength. 
 
 In the twentieth song occur famine and the death of 
 Minnehaha, foretold by two taciturn guests from the 
 land of death; and in the twenty-second song Hiawatha 
 prepares for a final journey to the west land: 
 
 " I am going, O Nokomis, 
 On a long and distant journey, 
 To the portals of the Sunset, 
 To the regions of the home-wind, 
 Of the Northwest-Wind Keewaydin. 
 
 " One long track and trail of splendor, 
 Down whose stream, as down a river, 
 
390 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Westward, westward, Hiawatha 
 Sailed into the fiery sunset, 
 Sailed into the purple vapors, 
 Sailed into the dusk of evening. 
 
 " Thus departed Hiawatha, 
 Hiawatha the Beloved, 
 In the glory of the sunset, 
 In the purple mists of evening. 
 To the regions of the home-wind. 
 Of the Northwest-Wind, Keewaydin, 
 To the Islands of the Blessed, 
 To the kingdom of Ponemah, 
 To the land of the Hereafter ! " 
 
 The sun, victoriously arising, tears itself away from 
 the embrace and clasp, from the enveloping womb of 
 the sea, and sinks again into the maternal sea, into night, 
 the all-enveloping and the all-reproducing, leaving behind 
 it the heights of midday and all its glorious works. This 
 image was the first, and was profoundly entitled to be- 
 come the symbolic carrier of human destiny; in the morn- 
 ing of life man painfully tears himself loose from the 
 mother, from the domestic hearth, to rise through battle 
 to his heights. Not seeing his worst enemy in front of 
 him, but bearing him within himself as a deadly longing 
 for the depths within, for drowning in his own source, 
 for becoming absorbed into the mother, his life is a con- 
 stant struggle with death, a violent and transitory delivery 
 from the always lurking night. This death is no external 
 enemy, but a deep personal longing for quiet and for the 
 profound peace of non-existence, for a dreamless sleep 
 in the ebb and flow of the sea of life. Even in his highest 
 endeavor for harmony and eguilibrium, for philosophic 
 
 i 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 391 
 
 depths and artistic enthusiasm, he seeks death, immobil- 
 ity, satiety and rest. If, like Peirithoos, he tarries too 
 long in this place of rest and peace, he is overcome by 
 torpidity, and the poison of the serpent paralyzes him for 
 all time. If he is to live he must fight and sacrifice his 
 longing for the past, in order to rise to his own heights. 
 And having reached the noonday heights, he must also 
 sacrifice the love for his own achievement, for he may not 
 loiter. The sun also sacrifices its greatest strength in 
 order to hasten onwards to the fruits of autumn, which 
 are the seeds of immortality; fulfilled in children, in 
 works, in posthumous fame, in a new order of things, all 
 of which in their turn begin and complete the sun's 
 course over again. 
 
 The " Song of Hiawatha " contains, as these extracts 
 show, a material which is very well adapted to bring into 
 play the abundance of ancient symbolic possibilities, 
 latent in the human mind, and to stimulate it to the creation 
 of mythologic figures. But the products always contain the 
 same old problems of humanity, which rise again and again 
 in new symbolic disguise from the shadowy world of the 
 unconscious. Thus Miss Miller is reminded through the 
 longing of Chiwantopel, of another mythic cycle which 
 appeared in the form of Wagner's " Siegfried." Espe- 
 cially is this shown in the passage in Chiwantopel's mono- 
 logue, where he exclaims, " There is not one who under- 
 stands me, not one who resembles me, not one who has a 
 soul sister to mine." Miss Miller observes that the 
 sentiment of this passage has the greatest analogy with 
 the feelings which Siegfried experienced for Brunhilde. 
 
392 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 This analogy causes us to cast a glance at the song of 
 Siegfried, especially at the relation of Siegfried and 
 Brunhilde. It is a well-recognized fact that Brunhilde, 
 the Valkyr, gives protection to the birth (incestuous) 
 of Siegfried, but while Sieglinde is the human mother, 
 Brunhilde has the role of " spiritual mother " (mother- 
 imago) ; however, unlike Hera towards Hercules, she is 
 not a pursuer, but benevolent. This sin, in which she is 
 an accomplice, by means of the help she renders, is the 
 reason for her banishment by Wotan. The strange birth 
 of Siegfried from the sister-wife distinguishes him as 
 Horus, as the reborn son, a reincarnation of the retreat- 
 ing Osiris — Wotan. The birth of the young son, of the 
 hero, results, indeed, from mankind, who, however, are 
 merely the human bearers of the cosmic symbolism. Thus 
 the birth is protected by the spirit mother (Hera, Lilith) : 
 she sends Sieglinde with the child in her womb (Mary's 
 flight) on the " night journey on the sea " to the east: 
 
 " Onward, hasten ; 
 Turn to the East. 
 
 O woman, thou cherishest 
 The sublimest hero of the world 
 In thy sheltering womb." 
 
 The motive of dismemberment is found again in the 
 broken sword of Siegmund, which was kept for Sieg- 
 fried. From the dismemberment life is pieced together 
 again. (The Medea wonder.) Just as a smith forges 
 the pieces together, so is the dismembered dead again 
 put together. (This comparison is also found in 
 
 I 
 
 ( 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 393 
 
 '* TImaios " of Plato : the parts of the world joined 
 together with pegs.) In the Rigveda, 10, 72, the creator 
 of the world, Brahmanaspati, is a smith. 
 
 " Brahmanaspati, as a blacksmith, 
 Welded the world together." 
 
 The sword has the significance of the phallic sun power; 
 therefore, a sword proceeds from the mouth of the 
 apocalyptic Christ; that is to say, the procreative fire, the 
 word, or the procreative Logos. In Rigveda, Brahmana- 
 spati is also a prayer-word, which possessed an ancient 
 creative significance : ^° 
 
 " And this prayer of the singers, expanding from itself. 
 Became a cow, which was already there before the world. 
 Dwelling together in the womb of this god, 
 Foster-children of the same keeper are the gods." 
 
 — Rigveda x: 31. 
 
 The Logos became a cow; that is to say, the mother, 
 who is pregnant with the gods. (In Christian uncanoni- 
 cal phantasies, where the Holy Ghost has feminine sig- 
 nificance, we have the well-known motive of the two 
 mothers, the earthly mother, Mary, and the spiritual 
 mother, the Holy Ghost.) The transformation of the 
 Logos into the mother is not remarkable in itself, because 
 the origin of the phenomenon fire-speech seems to be the 
 mother-libido, according to the discussion in the earlier 
 chapter. The spiritual is the mother-libido. The sig- 
 nificance of the sword, in the Sanskrit conception, tejas, 
 is probably partly determined by its sharpness, as is 
 shown above, in its connection with the libido conception. 
 
394 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 The motive of pursuit (the pursuing Sieglinde, analogous 
 to Leto) is not here bound up with the spiritual mother, 
 but with Wotan, therefore corresponding to the Linos 
 legend, where the father of the wife is also the pursuer. 
 Wotan is also the father of Brunhilde. Brunhilde stands 
 in a peculiar relation to Wotan. Brunhilde says to 
 Wotan : 
 
 " Thou speakest to the will of Wotan 
 By telling me what thou wishest: 
 Who ... am I 
 Were I not thy will? " 
 
 Wotan : 
 
 I take counsel only with myself, 
 When I speak with thee . . . 
 
 Brunhilde is also somewhat the " angel of the face," 
 that creative will or word," emanating from God, also 
 the Logos, which became the child-bearing woman. God 
 created the world through his word; that is to say, his 
 mother, the woman who is to bring him forth again. 
 (He lays his own egg.) This peculiar conception, it 
 seems to me, can be explained by assuming that the libido 
 overflowing into speech (thought) has preserved its 
 sexual character to an extraordinary degree as a result 
 of the inherent inertia. In this way the " word " had to j 
 execute and fulfil all that was denied to the sexual wish; 
 namely, the return into the mother, in order to attain j 
 eternal duration. The " word " fulfils this wish by itself 
 becoming the daughter, the wife, the mother of the God, 
 who brings him forth anew.®- 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 395 
 
 Wagner has this idea vaguely in his mind in Wotan's 
 lament over Brunhilde : 
 
 " None as she knew my inmost thought; 
 None knew the source of my will 
 As she ; 
 
 She herself was 
 
 The creating womb of my wish ; 
 And so now she has broken 
 The blessed union! " 
 
 Brunhilde's sin is the favoring of Siegmund, but, be- 
 hind this, lies incest: this is projected into the brother- 
 sister relation of Siegmund and Sieglinde; in reality, and 
 archaically expressed, Wotan, the father, has entered into 
 his self-created daughter, in order to rejuvenate himself. 
 But this fact must, of course, be veiled. Wotan is rightly 
 indignant with Brunhilde, for she has taken the Isis role 
 and through the birth of the son has deprived the old 
 man of his power. The first attack of the death ser- 
 pent in the form of the son, Siegmund, Wotan has re- 
 pelled; he has broken Siegmund's sword, but Siegmund 
 rises again in a grandson. This Inevitable fate is always 
 helped by the woman; hence the wrath of Wotan. 
 
 At Siegfried's birth Sieglinde dies, as is proper. The 
 foster-mother '^^ is apparently not a woman, but a chthonic 
 god, a crippled dwarf, who belongs to that tribe which 
 renounces love.®* The Egyptian god of the underworld, 
 the crippled shadow of Osiris (who celebrated a melan- 
 choly resurrection in the sexless semi-ape Harpocrates), 
 is the tutor of Horus, who has to avenge the death of his 
 father. 
 
 k 
 
396 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Meanwhile Brunhilde sleeps the enchanted sleep, like a 
 Hierosgamos, upon a mountain, where Wotan has put her 
 to sleep ®^ with the magic thorn (Edda), surrounded by 
 the flames of Wotan's fire (equal to libido®''), which 
 wards off every one. But Mime becomes Siegfried's 
 enemy and wills his death through Fafner. Here Mime's 
 dynamic nature is revealed; he is a masculine representa- 
 tion of the terrible mother, also a foster-mother of de- 
 moniac nature, who places the poisonous worm (Typhon) 
 in her son's (Horus's) path. Siegfried's longing for the 
 mother drives him away from Mime, and his travels begin 
 with the mother of death, and lead through vanquishing 
 the " terrible mother " ®^ to the woman: 
 
 Siegfried : 
 
 Off with the imp ! 
 
 I ne'er would see him more! 
 
 Might I but know what my mother was like 
 
 That will my thought never tell me ! 
 
 Her eyes' tender light 
 
 Surely did shine 
 
 Like the soft eyes of the doe ! 
 
 Siegfried decides to separate from the demon which 
 was the mother in the past, and he gropes forward with 
 the longing directed towards the mother. Nature ac- 
 quires a hidden maternal significance for him (" doe ") ; 
 in the tones of nature he discovers a suggestion of the 
 maternal voice and the maternal language : 
 
 Siegfried : 
 
 Thou gracious birdling, 
 Strange art thou to me ! 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 397 
 
 Dost thou in the wood here dwell? 
 Ah, would that I could take thy meaning! 
 Thy song something would say — 
 Perchance — of my loving mother! 
 
 This psychology we have already encountered in Hia- 
 watha. By means of his dialogue with the bird (bird, 
 like wind and arrow, represents the wish, the winged 
 longing) Siegfried entices Fafner from the cave. His 
 desires turn back to the mother, and the chthonic demon, 
 the cave-dwelling terror of the woods, appears. Fafner 
 is the protector of the treasure; in his cave lies the hoard, 
 the source of life and power. The mother possesses the 
 libido of the son, and jealously does she guard it. Trans- 
 lated into psychological language, this means the positive 
 transference succeeds only through the release of the 
 libido from the mother-imago, the incestuous object in 
 general. Only in this manner is it possible to gain one's 
 libido, the incomparable treasure, and this requires a 
 mighty struggle, the whole battle of adaptation. ^^ The 
 Siegfried legend has abundantly described the outcome of 
 this battle with Fafner. According to the Edda, Sieg- 
 fried eats Fafner's heart, the seat of life. He wins the 
 magic cap, through whose power Alberich had changed 
 himself into a serpent. This refers to the motive of cast- 
 ing the skin, rejuvenation. By means of the magic cap 
 one can vanish and assume different shapes. The van- 
 ishing probably refers to dying and to the invisible pres- 
 ence; that Is, existence In the mother's womb. A luck- 
 bringing cap, amniotic covering, the new-born child oc- 
 casionally wears over his head (the caul). Moreover, 
 
398 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Siegfried drinks the dragon's blood, which makes it pos- 
 sible for him to understand the language of birds, and 
 consequently he enters into a peculiar relation with Na- 
 ture, a dominating position, the result of his knowledge, 
 and finally wins the treasure. 
 
 Hort is a mediaeval and Old High German word with 
 the meaning of "collected and guarded treasure"; 
 Gothic, huzd; Old Scandinavian, hodd; Germanic hozda, 
 from pre-Germanic kuzdho — for kudtho — " the con- 
 cealed." Kluge '^^ adds to this the Greek navdco, 
 sKvdov = " to hide, to conceal." Also hut {hut, to 
 guard; English, hide), Germanic root hud, from Indo- 
 Germanic kuth (questionable), to Greek kevBgd and 
 Hvado?, " cavity," feminine genitals. Prellwitz,'^" too, 
 traces Gothic huzd, Anglo-Saxon hyde, English hide and 
 hoard, to Greek ksvOoj. Whitley Stokes traces English 
 hide, Anglo-Saxon hydan, New High German Hiitte, 
 Latin cudo = helmet; Sanskrit kuhara (cave?) to primi- 
 tive Celtic ^oM^o = concealment; Latin, occultatio. 
 
 The assumption of Kluge is also supported in other 
 directions; namely, from the point of view of the primi- 
 tive idea : 
 
 "There exists in Athens''^ a sacred place (a Temenos) of Ge, 
 with the surname Olympia. Here the ground is torn open for 
 about a yard in width; and they say, after the flood at the time 
 of Deucalion, that the water receded here; and every year they 
 throw into the fissure wheatmeal, kneaded with honey." 
 
 We have observed previously that among the Arrhe- 
 tophorian, pastry in the form of snakes and phalli, was 
 thrown into a crevice in the earth. This was mentioned 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 399 
 
 in connection with the ceremonies of fertilizing the earth. 
 We have touched sHghtly already upon the sacrifice in 
 the earth crevice among the Watschandies. The flood 
 of death has passed characteristically into the crevice of 
 the earth; that is, back into the mother again; because 
 from the mother the universal great death has come in 
 the first place. The flood is simply the counterpart of the 
 vivifying and all-producing water : ^fLxsayov, 00 nsp yi- 
 veffi? TtavreffGi rirvKxai* One sacrifices the honey cake 
 to the mother, so that she may spare one from death. 
 Thus every year in Rome a gold sacrifice was thrown 
 into the lacus Curtius, into the former fissure in the earth, 
 which could only be closed through the sacrificial death 
 of Curtius. He was the typical hero, who has journeyed 
 into the underworld, in order to conquer the danger 
 threatening the Roman state from the opening of the 
 abyss. (Kaineus, Amphiaraos. ) In the Amphiaraion of 
 Oropos those healed through the temple incubation threw 
 their gifts of gold into the sacred well, of which Pau- 
 sanias says : 
 
 " If any one is healed of a sickness through a saying of the 
 oracle, then it is customary to throw a silver or gold coin into the 
 well ; because here Amphiaraos has ascended as a god." 
 
 It is probable that this oropic well is also the place of 
 his " Katabasis " (descent into the lower world). There 
 were many entrances into Hades in antiquity. Thus near 
 Eleusis there was an abyss, through which Aidoneus 
 passed up and down, when he kidnapped Cora. (Dragon 
 
 * Ocean, who arose to be the producer of all. 
 
400 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 and maiden: the libido overcome by resistance, life re- 
 placed by death.) There were crevices in the rocks, 
 through which souls could ascend to the upper world. Be- 
 hind the temple of Chthonia in Hermione lay a sacred 
 district of Pluto, with a ravine through which Hercules 
 had brought up Cerberus; in addition, there was an 
 " Acherusian " lake.''^ This ravine was, therefore, the 
 entrance to the place where death was conquered. The 
 lake also belongs here as a further mother symbol, for 
 symbols appear massed together, as they are surrogates, 
 and, therefore, do not afford the same satisfaction of de- 
 sire as accorded by reality, so that the unsatisfied rem- 
 nant of the libido must seek still further symbolic outlets. 
 The ravine in the Areopagus in Athens was considered 
 the seat of inhabitants of the lower world. An old 
 Grecian custom ''^ suggests a similar idea. Girls were 
 sent into a cavern, where a poisonous snake dwelt, as a 
 test of virginity. If they were bitten by the snake, it was 
 a token that they were no longer chaste. We find this 
 same motive again in the Roman legend of St. Silvester, 
 at the end of the fifth century: ^* 
 
 " Erat draco immanissimus in monte Tarpeio, in quo est Capi- 
 tolium collocatum. Ad hunc draconem per CCCLXV gradus, 
 quasi ad infernum, magi cum virginibus sacrilegis descendebant 
 semel in mense cum sacrificiis et lustris, ex quibus esca poterat 
 tanto draconi inferri. Hie draco subito ex improvise ascendebat 
 et licet non ingrederetur vicinos tamen aeres flatu sue vitiabat. 
 Ex quo mortalitas hominum et maxima luctus de morte veniebat 
 infantum. (Lilith motive.) Sanctus itaque Silvester cum haberet 
 cum paganis pro defensione veritatis conflictum, ad hoc venit ut 
 dicerent ei pagani : ' Silvester descende ad draconem et f ac eum 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 401 
 
 in nomine Dei tui vel uno anno ab interfectione generis humani 
 cessare. * 
 
 St. Peter appeared to Silvester in a dream and advised 
 him to close his door to the underworld with chains, ac- 
 cording to the model in Revelation, chap, xx: 
 
 ( 1 ) " And I saw an angel come down from heaven, having the 
 key of the bottomless pit, and a great chain in his hand. 
 
 (2) "And he laid hold on the dragon, that old serpent, which 
 is the Devil and Satan, and bound him a thousand years. 
 
 (3) "And cast him into the bottomless pit, and shut him up, 
 and set a seal upon him." 
 
 The anonymous author of a writing, " De Promissioni- 
 bus," " of the beginning of the fifth century, mentions a 
 very similar legend: 
 
 " Apud urbem Romam specus quidam fuit in quo draco miras 
 magnitudinis mechanica arte formatus, gladium ore gestans,^^ 
 oculis rutilantibus gemmis "^ metuendus ac terribilis apparebat. 
 Hinc annuae devote virgines floribus exornatse, eo modo in sac- 
 rificio dabantur, quatenus inscias munera deferentes gradum 
 scalas, quo certe ille arte diaboli draco pendebat, contingentes im- 
 petus venientis gladii perimeret, ut sanguinem funderet inno- 
 centem. Et hunc quidam monachus, bene ob meritum cognitus 
 Stiliconi tunc patricio, eo modo subvertit; baculo, manu, singulos 
 gradus palpandos inspiciens, statim ut ilium tangens fraudem 
 
 * There was a huge dragon on Mount Tarpeius, where the Capitolium 
 stands. Once a month, with sacrilegious maidens, the priests descended 
 365 steps into the hell of this dragon, carrying expiatory offerings of food 
 for the dragon. Then the dragon suddenly and unexpectedly arose, 
 and, though he did not come out, he poisoned the air with his breath. 
 Thence came the mortality of man and the deepest sorrow for the death 
 of the children. When, for the defence of truth, St. Silvester had had a 
 conflict with the heathen, it came to this that the heathen said: " Silvester, 
 go down to the dragon, and in the name of thy God make him desist from 
 the killing of mankind." 
 
402 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 diabolicam repperit, eo transgresso descendens, draconem scidit, 
 misitque in partes: ostendens et hie deos non esse qui manu 
 fiunt." * 
 
 The hero battling with the dragon has much in common 
 with the dragon, and also he takes over his qualities; for 
 example, invulnerability. As the footnotes show, the simi- 
 larity is carried still further (sparkling eyes, sword in his 
 mouth). Translated psychologically, the dragon is 
 merely the son's repressed longing, striving towards the 
 mother; therefore, the son is the dragon, as even 
 Christ is identified with the serpent, which, once upon a 
 time, similia simllibus, had controlled the snake plague 
 in the Wilderness. John iii : 14. As a serpent he is 
 to be crucified; that is to say, as one striving backwards 
 towards the mother, he must die hanging or suspended 
 on the mother tree. Christ and the dragon of the Anti- 
 christ are in the closest contact in the history of their 
 appearance and their cosmic meaning. (Compare Bous- 
 set, the Antichrist.) The legend of the dragon concealed 
 
 * Near the city of Rome there was a certain cavern in which appeared 
 a dragon of remarkable size, mechanically produced, brandishing a sword 
 in his mouth, his eyes glittering like gems, fearful and terrible. Hither 
 came virgins every year, devoted to this service, adorned with flowers, 
 who were given to him in sacrifice. Bringing these gifts, they unknow- 
 ingly descended the steps to a point where, with diabolical cunning, the 
 dragon was suspended, striking those who came a blow with the sword, 
 so that the innocent blood was shed. Now, there was a certain monk 
 who, on account of his good deeds, was well known to Stilico, the patri- 
 cian; he killed this dragon as follows: He examined each separate step 
 carefully, both with a rod and his own hand, until, discovering the false 
 step, he exposed the diabolical fraud. Then, jumping over this step, 
 he went down and killed the dragon, cutting him to pieces, demon- 
 strating that one who could be destroyed by human hand could not be a 
 divinity. 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 403 
 
 in the Antichrist myth belongs to the life of the hero, 
 and, therefore, is immortal. In none of the newer forms 
 of myth are the pairs of opposites so perceptibly near as 
 in that of Christ and Antichrist. (I refer to the remark- 
 able psychologic description of this problem in Meresch- 
 kowski's romance, "Leonardo da Vinci.") That the 
 dragon is only an artifice is a useful and delightfully 
 rationalistic conceit, which is most significant for that 
 period. In this way the dismal gods were effectually vul- 
 garized. The schizophrenic insane readily make use of this 
 mechanism, in order to depreciate efficient personalities. 
 One often hears the stereotyped lament, " It is all a play, 
 artificial, made up," etc. A dream of a " schizophrenic " 
 is most significant; he is sitting in a dark room, which 
 has only a single small window, through which he can see 
 the sky. The sun and moon appear, but they are only 
 made artificially from oil paper. (Denial of the delete- 
 rious incest influence.) 
 
 The descent of the three hundred and sixty-five steps 
 refers to the sun's course, to the cavern of death and re- 
 birth. That this cavern actually stands in a relation to 
 the subterranean mother of death can be shown by a note 
 in Malalas, the historian of Antioch,^^ who relates that 
 Diocletian consecrated there a crypt to Hecate, to which 
 one descends by three hundred and sixty-five steps. Cave 
 mysteries seem to have been celebrated for Hecate in 
 Samothrace as well. The serpent also played a great part 
 as a regular symbolic attribute in the service of Hecate. 
 The mysteries of Hecate flourished in Rome towards the 
 end of the fourth century, so that the two foregoing 
 
404 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 legends might indeed relate to her cult. Hecate ^* is a 
 real spectral goddess of night and phantoms, a Mar; she 
 is represented as riding, and in Hesiod occurs as the 
 patron of riders. She sends the horrible nocturnal fear 
 phantom, the Empusa, of whom Aristophanes says that 
 she appears inclosed in a bladder swollen with blood. 
 According to Libanius, the mother of Aischines is also 
 called Empusa, for the reason that en GHorsivcav ronoov 
 roii Tiaiffiv nai taiS yvvai^iv (yp/^^ro."* 
 
 Empusa, like Hecate, has peculiar feet; one foot is 
 made of brass, the other of ass' dung. Hecate has snake- 
 like feet, which, as in the triple form ascribed to Hecate, 
 points to her phallic libido nature. ^^ In Tralles, Hecate 
 appears next to Priapus; there is also a Hecate Aphro- 
 disias. Her symbols are the key," the whip,^^ the snake,^^ 
 the dagger ** and the torch. ^^ As mother of death, dogs 
 accompany her, the significance of which we have pre- 
 viously discussed at length. As guardian of the door of 
 Hades and as Goddess of dogs, she is of threefold form, 
 and really identified with Cerberus. Thus Hercules, in 
 bringing up Cerberus, brings the conquered mother of 
 death into the upper world. As spirit mother (moon!), 
 she sends madness, lunacy. (This mythical observation 
 states that " the mother " sends madness; by far the ma- 
 jority of the cases of insanity consist, in fact, in the domi- 
 nation of the individual by the material of the incest 
 phantasy.) In the mysteries of Cerberus, a rod, 
 called \Evji6(pv'K.Xo?,\ was broken off. This rod protected 
 
 * Out of dark places she rushes on children and women. 
 
 t White-leaved. 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 405 
 
 the purity of virgins, and caused any one who touched 
 the plant to become insane. We recognize in this the 
 motive of the sacred tree, which, as mother, must not 
 be touched, an act which only an insane person would 
 commit. Hecate, as nightmare, appears in the form of 
 Empusa, in a vampire role, or as Lamia, as devourer of 
 men; perhaps, also, in that more beautiful guise, "The 
 Bride of Corinth." She is the mother of all charms and 
 witches, the patron of Medea, because the power of the 
 "terrible mother" is magical and irresistible (working 
 upward from the unconscious). In Greek syncretism, 
 she plays a very significant role. She is confused with 
 Artemis, who also has the surname iudrri^^ " the one 
 striking at a distance " or " striking according to her 
 will," in which we recognize again her superior power. 
 Artemis is the huntress, with hounds, and so Hecate, 
 through confusion with her, becomes uvvrjyeriKrj, the 
 wild nocturnal huntress. (God, as huntsman, see above.) 
 She has her name in common with Apollo, exaro? 
 ixdepyo^.-f From the standpoint of the libido theory, 
 this connection is easily understandable, because Apollo 
 merely symbolizes the more positive side of the same 
 amount of libido. The confusion of Hecate with Brimo 
 as subterranean mother is understandable; also with 
 Persephone and Rhea, the primitive all-mother. Intel- 
 ligible through the maternal significance is the confusion 
 with Ilithyia, the midwife. Hecate is also the direct 
 goddess of births, 7iovporp6q)o?,X the multiplier of cat- 
 
 * Far-shooting Hecate. t Far-shooting, the far-darting. 
 
 X Goddess of birth. 
 
4o6 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 tie, and goddess of marriage. Hecate, orphlcally, oc- 
 cupies the centre of the world as Aphrodite and Gala, 
 even as the world soul in general. On a carved gem ®^ 
 she is represented carrying the cross on her head. The 
 beam on v/hich the criminal was scourged is called 
 ijidry. * To her, as to the Roman Trivia, the triple roads, 
 or Scheideweg, " forked road," or crossways were dedi- 
 cated. And where roads branch off or unite sacrifices of 
 dogs were brought her; there the bodies of the executed 
 were thrown; the sacrifice occurs at the pomt of crossing. 
 Etymologically, scheide, "sheath"; for example, sword- 
 sheath, sheath for water-shed and sheath for vagina, is 
 identical with scheiden, " to split," or " to separate." The 
 meaning of a sacrifice at this place would, therefore, be 
 as follows : to offer something to the mother at the place 
 of junction or at the fissure. (Compare the sacrifice to 
 the chthonic gods in the abyss.) The Temenos of Ge, the 
 abyss and the well, are easily understood as the gates of 
 life and death," " past which every one gladly creeps " 
 (Faust), and sacrifices there his obolus or his 7reXayoi,\ 
 instead of his body, just as Hercules soothes Cerberus 
 with the honey cakes. (Compare with this the mythical 
 significance of the dog!) Thus the crevice at Delphi, 
 with the spring, Castalia, was the seat of the chthonic 
 dragon, Python, who was conquered by the sun-hero, 
 Apollo. (Python, incited by Hera, pursued Leta, preg- 
 nant with Apollo; but she, on the floating island of Delos 
 [nocturnal journey on the sea], gave birth to her child, 
 who later slew the Python; that is to say, conquered in 
 
 * Hecate. f Sacrificial cakes offered to the gods. 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 407 
 
 it the spirit mother.) In HIerapolis (Edessa) the temple 
 was erected above the crevice through v/hich the flood 
 had poured out, and in Jerusalem the foundation stone 
 of the temple covered the great abyss, ®^ just as Christian 
 churches are frequently built over caves, grottoes, wells, 
 etc. In the Mithra grotto, ^^ and all the other sacred 
 caves up to the Christian catacombs, which owe their 
 significance not to the legendary persecutions but to the 
 worship of the dead,^*^ we come across the same funda- 
 mental motive. The burial of the dead in a holy place 
 (in the " garden of the dead," in cloisters, crypts, etc.) 
 is restitution to the mother, with the certain hope of res- 
 urrection by which such burial is rightfully rewarded. 
 The animal of death which dwells in the cave had to be 
 soothed in early times through human sacrifices; later 
 with natural gifts. ^^ Therefore, the Attic custom gives 
 to the dead the fxaXirovtra, to pacify the dog of hell, 
 the three-headed monster at the gate of the underworld. 
 A more recent elaboration of the natural gifts seems to be 
 the obolus for Charon, who is, therefore, designated by 
 Rohde as the second Cerberus, corresponding to the 
 Egyptian dog-faced god Anubis.^" Dog and serpent of 
 the underworld (Dragon) are likewise identical. In 
 the tragedies, the Erinnyes are serpents as well as dogs; 
 the serpents Tychon and Echidna are parents of the ser- 
 pents — Hydra, the dragon of the Hesperides, and Gorgo; 
 and of the dogs, Cerberus, Orthrus, Scylla.^^ Serpents 
 and dogs are also protectors of the treasure. The 
 chthonic god was probably always a serpent dwelling in a 
 cave, and was fed with n^Xavoi* In the Asclepiadean of 
 
 *Ritu,l sacrificial food offered to the gods. 
 
4o8 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 the later period, the sacred serpents were scarcely visible, 
 meaning that they probably existed only figuratively.®* 
 Nothing was left but the hole in which the snalce was 
 said to dwell. There the neXavoi* were placed; later 
 the obolus was thrown in. The sacred cavern in the 
 temple of Kos consisted of a rectangular pit, upon which 
 was laid a stone lid, with a square hole; this arrangement 
 serves the purpose of a treasure house. The snake hole 
 had become a slit for money, a " sacrificial box," and the 
 cave had become a " treasure." That this development, 
 which Herzog traces, agrees excellently with the actual 
 condition is shown by a discovery in the temple of Ascle- 
 pius and Hygieia in Ptolemais : 
 
 " An encoiled granite snake, with arched neck, was found. In 
 the middle of the coil is seen a narrow slit, polished by usage, 
 just large enough to allow a coin of four centimeters diameter at 
 most to fall through. At the side are holes for handles to lift the 
 heavy pieces, the under half of which is used as a cover." — Herzog, 
 Ibid., p. 212. 
 
 The serpent, as protector of the hoard, now lies on the 
 treasure house. The fear of the maternal womb of 
 death has become the guardian of the treasure of life. 
 That the snake in this connection is really a symbol of 
 death, that is to say, of the dead libido, results from the 
 fact that the souls of the dead, like the chthonic gods, ap- 
 pear as serpents, as dwellers in the kingdom of the mother 
 of death. ®^ This development of symbol allows us to rec- 
 ognize easily the transition of the originally very primi- 
 tive significance of the crevice in the earth as mother to the 
 
 * Ritual sacrificial food offered to the gods. 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 409 
 
 meaning of treasure house, and can, therefore, support the 
 etymology of Hort, " hoard, treasure," as suggested by 
 Kluge. nevdoj, belonging to nsvdo?, means the innermost 
 womb of the earth (Hades) ; nvado^, that Kluge adds, 
 is of similar meaning, cavity or womb. Prellwitz does 
 not mention this connection. Fick,^" however, compares 
 New High German hort, Gothic huzd, to Armenian kust, 
 "abdomen"; Church Slavonian cista, Vedic kostha=^ 
 abdomen, from the Indo-Germanic root koustho -s = 
 viscera, lower abdomen, room, store-room. Prellwitz 
 compares xvffdo? hv&ti^ = unn?Lry bladder, bag, purse; 
 Sanskrit kits t has ^= ca.v'ity of the loins; then uvto? = 
 cavity, vault; hvti? = little chest, from Hvioo =1 am 
 pregnant. Here, from hvto? = cave, Kvap = hole, 
 Hvado? =: cup, HvXa := dcprcssion under the eye, 
 Hv/.ia =■ swelling, wave, billow, nvpo? = power, force, 
 xvpio; = lord, Old Iranian caur, cur =^ hero; Sanskrit 
 gtra -s = strong, hero. The fundamental Indo-Germanic 
 roots ^^ are kevo = to swell, to be strong. From that 
 the above-mentioned uvia), nvap, xvpo? and Latin 
 cavtis = hollow, vaulted, cavity, hole ; cavea = cavity, 
 enclosure, cage, scene and assembly; caula = cavity^ 
 opening, enclosure, stalP^; ^m^'^^o = swell; participle, 
 kueyonts = swelling; en-kueyonts = pregnant. synviajv 
 = Latin maVwj = pregnant; compare Sanskrit vi-gvd- 
 }'fl« = swelling; kuro -s (kevaro -s), strong, powerful 
 hero. 
 
 The treasure which the hero fetches from the dark 
 cavern is swelling life; it is himself, the hero, new- 
 born from the anxiety of pregnancy and the birth throes. 
 
410 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Thus the Hindoo fire-brlnger Is called Matarlgvan, mean- 
 ing the one swelling in the mother. The hero striving 
 towards the mother is the dragon, and when he separates 
 from the mother he becomes the conqueror of the 
 dragon.^^ This train of thought, which we have already 
 hinted at previously in Christ and Antichrist, may be 
 traced even into the details of Christian phantasy. There 
 is a series of mediseval pictures "° in which the com- 
 munion cup contains a dragon, a snake or some sort of 
 small animal. ^°^ 
 
 The cup is the receptacle, the maternal womb, of the 
 god resurrected in the wine; the cup is the cavern where 
 the serpent dwells, the god who sheds his skin, in the 
 state of metamorphosis; for Christ is also the serpent. 
 These symbolisms are used in an obscure connection in 
 I Corinthians, verse lo: Paul writes of the Jews who 
 " were all baptized unto Moses in the cloud and in the 
 sea " (also reborn) and " did all drink the same spiritual 
 drink; for they drank of that spiritual rock that followed 
 them, and that rock was Christ." They drank from the 
 mother (the generative rock, birth from the rock) the 
 milk of rejuvenation, the mead of immortality, and this 
 Rock was Christ, here identified with the mother, because 
 he is the symbolic representative of the mother libido. 
 When we drink from the cup, then we drink from the 
 mother's breast immortality and everlasting salvation. 
 Paul wrote of the Jews that they ate and then rose up 
 to dance and to indulge in fornication, and then twenty- 
 three thousand of them were swept off by the plague of 
 serpents. The remedy for the survivors, however, was 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 411 
 
 the sight of a serpent hanging on a pole. From it was 
 derived the cure. 
 
 " The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of 
 the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the 
 communion of the body of Christ? For we being many are one 
 bread, and one body; for we are all partakers of one bread." — 
 / Corinthians x: 16, 17. 
 
 Bread and wine are the body and the blood of Christ; 
 the food of the immortals who are brothers with Christ, 
 ddsXcpoi, those who come from the same womb. We 
 who are reborn again from the mother are all heroes 
 together with Christ, and enjoy immortal food. As with 
 the Jews, so too with the Christians, there is imminent 
 danger of unworthy partaking, for this mystery, which is 
 very closely related psychologically with the subterranean 
 Hierosgamos of Eleusis, involves a mysterious union of 
 man in a spiritual sense, ^°" which was constantly misun- 
 derstood by the profane and was retranslated into his 
 language, where mystery is equivalent to orgy and 
 secrecy to vice.^°^ A very interesting blasphemer and sec- 
 tarian of the beginning of the nineteenth century named 
 Unternahrer has made the following comment on the 
 last supper : 
 
 " The communion of the devil is in this brothel. All they sac- 
 rifice here, they sacrifice to the devil and not to God. There they 
 have the devil's cup and the devil's dish ; there they have sucked 
 the head of the snakej^^* there they have fed upon the iniquitous 
 bread and drunken the wine of wickedness." ^°^ 
 
 Unternahrer is an adherent or a forerunner of the 
 " theory of living one's own nature." He dreams of him- 
 self as a sort of priapic divinity; he says of himself: 
 
412 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 " Black-haired, very charming and handsome in countenance, 
 and every one enjoys listening to thee on account of the amiable 
 speeches which come from thy mouth; therefore the maids love 
 thee." 
 
 He preaches " the cult of nakedness." 
 
 " Ye fools and blind men, behold God has created man in his 
 image, as male and female, and has blessed them and said, ' Be 
 fruitful and multiply and fill the earth, and make it subject to 
 thee.' Therefore, he has given the greatest honor to these poor 
 members and has placed them naked in the garden," etc. 
 
 " Now are the fig leaves and the covering removed, because 
 thou hast turned to the Lord, for the Lord is the Spirit, and where 
 the spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom,^"® there the clearness 
 of the Lord is mirrored with uncovered countenance. This is 
 precious before God, and this is the glory of the Lord, and the 
 adornment of our God, when you stand in the image and honor 
 of 570ur God, as God created you, naked and not ashamed. 
 
 " Who can ever praise sufficiently in the sons and daughters 
 of the living God those parts of the body which are destined to 
 procreate ? 
 
 " In the lap of the daughters of Jerusalem is the gate of the 
 Lord, and the Just will go into the temple there, to the altar."^ 
 And in the lap of the sons of the living God is the water-pipe of 
 the upper part, which is a tube, like a rod, to measure the temple 
 and altar. And under the water-tube the sacred stones are placed, 
 as a sign and testimony of the Lord, who has taken to himself the 
 seed of Abraham. 
 
 " Out of the seeds in the chamber of the mother, God creates 
 a man with his hands, as an image of himself. Then the mother 
 house and the mother chamber is opened in the daughters of the 
 Living God, and God himself brings forth a child through them. 
 Thus God creates children from the stones, for the seed comes 
 from the stones." ^"^ 
 
 History teaches in manifold examples how the religious 
 mysteries are liable to change suddenly into sexual orgies 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 413 
 
 because they have originated from an overvaluation of the 
 orgy. It is characteristic that this priapic divinity ^°^ re- 
 turns again to the old symbol of the snake, which in the 
 mystery enters into the faithful, fertilizing and spiritual- 
 izing them, although it originally possessed a phallic sig- 
 nificance. In the mysteries of the Ophites, the festival 
 was really celebrated with serpents, in which the animals 
 were even kissed. (Compare the caressing of the snake 
 of Demeter in the Eleusinian mysteries.) In the sexual 
 orgies of the modern Christian sects the phallic kiss plays 
 a very Important role. Unternahrer was an uncultivated, 
 crazy peasant, and it is unlikely that the Ophitic religious 
 ceremonies were known to him. 
 
 The phallic significance is expressed negatively or mys- 
 teriously through the serpent, which always points to a 
 secret related thought. This related thought connects 
 with the mother; thus, in a dream a patient found the 
 following imagery : " A serpent shot out from a moist 
 cave and bit the dreamer In the region of the genitals." 
 This dream took place at the instant when the patient 
 was convinced of the truth of the analysis, and began 
 to free himself from the bond of his mother complex. 
 The meaning Is : I am convinced that I am inspired and 
 poisoned by the mother. The contrary manner of ex- 
 pression is characteristic of the dream. At the moment 
 when he felt the impulse to go forwards he perceived the 
 attachment to the mother. Another patient had the fol- 
 lowing dream during a relapse, in which the libido was 
 again wholly introverted for a time: "She was entirely 
 filled within by a great snake; only one end of the tail 
 
414 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 peeped out from her arm. She wanted to seize It, but It 
 escaped her." A patient with a very strong Introversion 
 (catatonic state) complained to me that a snake was 
 stuck In her throat."" This symbohsm Is also used by 
 Nietzsche In the " vision " of the shepherd and the 
 snake : "^ 
 
 " And verily, what I saw was like nothing I ever saw before. 
 I saw a young shepherd, writhing, choking, twitching with a con- 
 vulsed face, from whose mouth hung a black, heavy serpent. 
 
 " Did I ever see so much disgust and pallid fear upon a counte- 
 nance?^^- Might he have been sleeping, and the snake crept 
 into his mouth — there it bit him fast? 
 
 " My hand tore at the serpent and tore — in vain ! — I failed to 
 tear the serpent out of his mouth. Then there cried out of me: 
 ' Bite! Bite! Its head off! Bite! ' I exclaimed; all my horror, 
 my hate, my disgust, my compassion, all the good and bad cried 
 out from me in one voice, 
 
 " Ye intrepid ones around me! solve for me the riddle which I 
 saw, make clear to me the vision of the lonesomest one. 
 
 " For it was a vision and a prophecy ; what did then I behold 
 in parable ? And who is it who is still to come ? 
 
 " Who is the shepherd into whose mouth crept the snake? Who 
 is the man into whose throat all the heaviness and the blackest 
 would creep? ^^^ 
 
 " But the shepherd bit, as my cry had told him; he bit with a 
 huge bite! Far away did he spit the head of the serpent — and 
 sprang up. 
 
 " No longer shepherd, no longer man, a transfigured being, an 
 illuminated being, who laughed! Never yet on earth did a man 
 laugh as he laughed ! 
 
 " O my brethren, I heard a laugh which was no human 
 laughter — and now a thirst consumeth me, a longing that is never 
 allayed. 
 
 " My longing for this laugh eats into me. Oh, how can I 
 suffer still to live! And how now can I bear to die! " "* 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 415 
 
 The snake represents the introverting libido. Through 
 introversion one is fertilized, inspired, regenerated and 
 reborn from the God. In Hindoo philosophy this idea of 
 creative, intellectual activity has even cosmogenic signifi- 
 cance. The unknown original creator of all things is, ac- 
 cording to Rigveda 10, 121, Prajapati, the "Lord of 
 Creation." In the various Brahmas, his cosmogenic 
 activity was depicted in the following manner 
 
 " Prajapati desired : ' I will procreate myself, I will be manifold.' 
 He performed Tapas; after he had performed Tapas he created 
 these worlds." 
 
 The strange conception of Tapas is to be translated, 
 according to Deussen,^^^ as *' he heated himself with his 
 own heat,^" with the sense of ' he brooded, he hatched.' " 
 Here the hatcher and the hatched are not two, but one 
 and the same identical being. As Hiranyagarbha, 
 Prajapati is the egg produced from himself, the world- 
 egg, from which he hatches himself. He creeps into him- 
 self, he becomes his own uterus, becomes pregnant with 
 himself, in order to give birth to the world of multiplic- 
 ity. Thus Prajapati through the way of introversion 
 changed into something new, the multiplicity of the world. 
 It is of especial interest to note how the most remote 
 things come into contact. Deussen observes : 
 
 " In the degree that the conception of Tapas (heat) becomes in 
 hot India the symbol of exertion and distress, the * tapo atapyata ' 
 began to assume the meaning of self-castigation and became related 
 to the idea that creation is an act of self-renunciation on the part 
 of the Creator." 
 
4i6 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Self-incubation and self-castigation and introversion 
 are very closely connected ideas. ^" The Zosimos vision 
 mentioned above betrays the same train of thought, where 
 it is said of the place of transformation: oroTto? rfj? 
 affKTJffSGi}?.* We have already observed that the place 
 of transformation is really the uterus. Absorption in 
 one's self (introversion) is an entrance into one's own 
 uterus, and also at the same time asceticism. In the 
 philosophy of the Brahmans the world arose from this 
 activity; among the post-Christian Gnostics it produced 
 the revival and spiritual rebirth of the individual, who 
 was born into a new spiritual world. The Hindoo philoso- 
 phy is considerably more daring and logical, and assumes 
 that creation results from introversion in general, as in 
 the wonderful hymn of Rigveda, lo, 29, it is said: 
 
 " What was hidden in the shell, 
 Was born through the power of fiery torments. 
 From this first arose love, 
 As the germ of knowledge, 
 
 The wise found the roots of existence in non-existence, 
 By investigating the heart's impulses." "^ 
 
 This philosophical view interprets the world as an 
 emanation of the libido, and this must be widely accepted 
 from the theoretic as well as the psychologic standpoint, 
 for the function of reality is an instinctive function, hav- 
 ing the character of biological adaptation. When the in- 
 sane Schreber brought about the end of the world through 
 his libido-introversion, he expressed an entirely rational 
 psychologic view, just as Schopenhauer wished to abolish 
 
 * The place of discipline. 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 417 
 
 through negation (holiness, asceticism) the error of the 
 primal will, through which the world was created. Does 
 not Goethe say: 
 
 " You follow a false trail ; 
 Do not think that we are not serious; 
 Is not the kernel of nature 
 In the hearts of men? " 
 
 The hero, who is to accomplish the rejuvenation of 
 the world and the conquest of death, is the libido, which, 
 brooding upon itself in introversion, coiling as a snake 
 around its own egg, apparently threatens life with a poi- 
 sonous bite. In order to lead it to death, and from that 
 darkness, conquering itself, gives birth to itself again. 
 Nietzsche knows this conception : "^ 
 
 " How long have you sat already upon your misfortune. 
 Give heed ! lest you hatch an egg, 
 A basilisk egg 
 Of your long travail." 
 
 The hero is himself a serpent, himself a sacrificer and 
 a sacrificed. The hero himself is of serpent nature; 
 therefore, Christ compares himself with the serpent; 
 therefore, the redeeming principle of the world of that 
 Gnostic sect which styled itself the Ophite was the ser- 
 pent. The serpent is the Agatho and Kako demon. It 
 is, indeed, intelligible, when, In the Germanic saga, they 
 say that the heroes had serpents' eyes.^^° I recall the 
 parallel previously drawn between the eyes of the Son of 
 man and those of the Tarpeian dragon. In the already 
 mentioned medieval pictures, the dragon, instead of the 
 
 I 
 
4i8 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UxNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Lord, appeared in the cup ; the dragon who with changeful, 
 serpent glances ^"^ guarded the divine mystery of renewed 
 rebirth in the maternal womb. In Nietzsche the old, ap- 
 parently long extinct idea is again revived : ^" 
 
 " Aihng with tenderness, just as the thawing wind, 
 Zarathustra sits waiting, waiting on his hill, 
 Sweetened and cooked in his own juice, 
 Beneath his summits, 
 Beneath his ice he sits, 
 Weary and happy, 
 A Creator on his seventh day. 
 Silence ! 
 It is my truth ! 
 From hesitating eyes — 
 From velvety shadows 
 Her glance meets mine. 
 Lovely, mischievous, the glance of a girl. 
 She divines the reason of my happiness, 
 She divines me — ha! what is she plotting? 
 A purple dragon lurks 
 In the abyss of her maiden glance.^^^ 
 Woe to thee, Zarathustra, 
 Thou seemest like some one 
 Who has swallowed gold, 
 Thy belly will be slit open." ^-* 
 
 In this poem nearly all the symbolism is collected which 
 we have elaborated previously from other connections. 
 Distinct traces of the primitive identity of serpent and 
 hero are still extant in the myth of Cecrops. Cecrops 
 is himself half-snake, half-man. Originally, he probably 
 was the Athenian snake of the citadel itself. As a buried 
 god, he is like Erechtheus, a chthonic snake god. Above 
 his subterranean dwelling rises the Parthenon, the temple 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 419 
 
 of the virgin goddess (compare the analogous idea of the 
 Christian church). The casting of the skin of the god, 
 which we have already mentioned in passing, stands in 
 the closest relation to the nature of the hero. We have 
 spoken already of the Mexican god who casts his skin. 
 It is also told of Mani, the founder of the Manichaean 
 sect, that he was killed, skinned, stuffed and hung up.'^^ 
 That is the death of Christ, merely in another mytho- 
 logical form.^'** 
 
 Marsyas, who seems to be a substitute for Attis, the 
 son-lover of Cybele, was also skinned. ^"^ Whenever a 
 Scythian king died, slaves and horses were slaughtered, 
 skinned and stuffed, and then set up again. ^"^ In Phrygia, 
 the representatives of the father-god were killed and 
 skinned. The same was done in Athens with an ox, who 
 was skinned and stuffed and again hitched to the plough. 
 
 In this manner the revival of the fertility of the earth 
 was celebrated.^^^ 
 
 This readily explains the fragment from the Sabazios 
 mysteries, transmitted to us by Firmicus: "•* Tavpo?dpa- 
 KovTO? xai Tcarrifi ravpov dpaxoov*. 
 
 The active fructifying (upward striving) form of the 
 libido is changed into the negative force striving down- 
 wards towards death. The hero as zodion of spring 
 (ram, bull) conquers the depths of winter; and beyond 
 the summer solstice is attacked by the unconscious long- 
 ing for death, and is bitten by the snake. However, he 
 himself is the snake. But he is at war with himself, and, 
 therefore, the descent and the end appear to him as the 
 
 * The bull, father of the serpent, and the serpent, father of the bull. 
 
 V 
 
420 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 malicious inventions of the mother of death, who in this 
 way wishes to draw him to herself. The mysteries, how- 
 ever, consolingly promise that there is no contradiction ^^^ 
 or disharmony when life is changed into death: ravpoi 
 dpaHOVTO? Jiai narrfp ravpov SpaKOOV. 
 
 Nietzsche, too, gives expression to this mystery:"^ 
 
 " Here do I sit noWj 
 That is, I'm swallowed down 
 By this the smallest oasis — 
 — It opened up just yawning, 
 Its loveliest maw agape. 
 Hail! hail! to that whalefish, 
 When he for his guests' welfare 
 Provided thus! 
 
 Hail to his belly 
 
 If he had also 
 
 Such a lovely oasis belly — 
 
 The desert grows, woe to him 
 
 Who hides the desert! 
 
 Stone grinds on stone, the desert 
 
 Gulps and strangles. 
 
 The monstrous death gazes, glowing brown, 
 
 And chews — his life is his chewing . . . 
 
 Forget not, O man, burnt out by lust, 
 
 Thou art the stone, the desert, 
 
 Thou art death!" 
 
 The serpent symbolism of the Last Supper is explained 
 by the identification of the hero with the serpent: The 
 god is buried in the mother: as fruit of the field, as food 
 coming from the mother and at the same time as drink 
 of immortality he is received by the mystic, or as a ser- 
 pent he unites with the mystic. All these symbols rep- 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 421 
 
 resent the liberation of the libido from the incestuous 
 fixation through which new life is attained. The libera- 
 tion is accomplished under symbols, which represent the 
 activity of the incest wish. 
 
 It might be justifiable at this place to cast a glance 
 upon psychoanalysis as a method of treatment. In prac- 
 tical analysis it is important, first of all, to discover the 
 libido lost from the control of consciousness. (It often 
 happens to the libido as with the fish of Moses in the 
 Mohammedan legend; it sometimes "takes its course In 
 a marvellous manner into the sea.") Freud says in his 
 important article, " Zur Dynamik der Ubertragung " : ^^^ 
 
 " The libido has retreated into regression and again revives the 
 infantile images." 
 
 This means, mythologically, that the sun is devoured 
 by the serpent of the night, the treasure is concealed and 
 guarded by the dragon : substitution of a present mode 
 of adaptation by an infantile mode, which is represented 
 by the corresponding neurotic symptoms. Freud con- 
 tinues : 
 
 " Thither the analytic treatment follows it and endeavors to 
 seek out the libido again, to render it accessible to consciousness, 
 and finally to make it serviceable to reality. Whenever the 
 analytic investigation touches upon the libido, withdrawn into its 
 hiding-place, a struggle must break out; all the forces, which have 
 caused the regression of the libido, will rise up as resistance against 
 the work, in order to preserve this new condition." 
 
 Mythologically this means : the hero seeks the lost sun, 
 the fire, the virgin sacrifice, or the treasure, and fights the 
 
 I 
 
.422 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 typical fight with the dragon, with the libido in resistance. 
 As these parallels show, psychoanalysis mobiles a part of 
 the life processes, the fundamental importance of which 
 properly illustrates the significance of this process. 
 
 After Siegfried has slain the dragon, he meets the 
 father, Wotan, plagued by gloomy cares, for the primi- 
 tive mother, Erda, has placed in his path the snake, in 
 order to enfeeble his sun. He says to Erda : 
 
 Wanderer: 
 All-wise one, 
 
 Care's piercing sting by thee was planted 
 In Wotan's dauntless heart 
 With fear of shameful ruin and downfall. 
 Filled was his spirit by tidings 
 Thou didst foretell. 
 
 Art thou the world's wisest of women? 
 Tell to me now 
 How a god may conquer his care. 
 
 Erda : 
 
 Thou art not 
 What thou hast said. 
 
 It is the same primitive motive which we meet in 
 Wagner: the mother has robbed her son, the sun-god, of 
 the joy of life, through a poisonous thorn, and deprives 
 him of his power, which is connected with the name. Isis 
 demands the name of the god; Erda says, " Thou art not 
 what thou hast said." But the " Wanderer " has found 
 the way to conquer the fatal charm of the mother, the 
 fear of death: 
 
 " The eternals' downfall 
 No more dismays me, 
 Since their doom I willed. 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 423 
 
 " I leave to thee, loveliest Walsung, 
 Gladly my heritage now. 
 To the ever-young 
 In gladness yieldeth the god ! " 
 
 These wise words contain, in fact, the saving thought. 
 It is not the mother who has placed the poisonous worm 
 in our path, but our libido itself wills to complete the 
 course of the sun to mount from morn to noon, and, pass- 
 ing beyond noon, to hasten towards evening, not at war 
 with itself, but willing the descent and the end.^^* 
 
 Nietzsche's Zarathustra teaches: 
 
 " I praise thee, my death, the free death, which comes to me be- 
 cause I want it. 
 
 " And when shall I want it? 
 
 " He who has a goal and an heir wants death at the proper 
 time for his goal and his heir. 
 
 " And this is the great noonday, when man in the middle of 
 his course stands between man and superman, and celebrates his 
 path towards evening as his highest hope: because it is the path to 
 a new morning. 
 
 " He who is setting will bless his own going down because it 
 is a transition: and the sun of his knowledge will be at high noon." 
 
 Siegfried conquers the father Wotan and takes posses- 
 sion of Brunhilde. The first object that he sees is her 
 horse; then he believes that he beholds a mail-clad man. 
 He cuts to pieces the protecting coat of mail of the 
 sleeper. (Overpowering.) When he sees it is a woman, 
 terror seizes him: 
 
 " My heart doth falter and faint; 
 On whom shall I call 
 That he may help me ? 
 
424 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Mother! Mother! 
 Remember me! 
 
 " Can this be fearing? 
 Oh, mother ! Mother ! 
 Thy dauntless child! 
 A woman lieth asleep: — 
 And she now has taught him to fear! 
 
 " Awaken ! Awaken ! 
 Holiest maid! 
 
 Then life from the sweetness of lips 
 Will I win me — 
 E'en tho' I die in a kiss." 
 
 In the duet which follows the mother is invoked : 
 
 " O mother, hail! 
 Who gave thee thy birth ! " 
 
 The confession of Brunhilde is especially characteristic: 
 
 " O knewest thou — joy of the world, 
 How I have ever loved thee! 
 Thou wert my gladness, 
 My care wert thou! 
 Thy life I sheltered ; 
 Or ere it was thine, 
 Or ere thou wert born. 
 My shield was thy guard." '" 
 
 The pre-existence of the hero and the pre-existence of 
 Brunhilde as his wife-mother are clearly indicated from 
 this passage. 
 
 Siegfried says in confirmation : 
 
 " Then death took not my mother? 
 Bound in sleep did she lie? " 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 425 
 
 The mother-imago, which is the symbol of the dying 
 and resurrected Kbido, is explained by Brunhilde to the 
 hero, as his own will : 
 
 " Thyself am I 
 If blest I be in thy love." 
 
 The great mystery of the Logos entering into the 
 mother for rebirth is proclaimed with the following words 
 by Brunhilde : 
 
 " O Siegfried, Siegfried, 
 Conquering light! 
 I loved thee ever, 
 For I divined 
 
 The thought that Wotan had hidden — ■ 
 The thought that I dared 
 Not to whisper — ''° 
 That all unclearly 
 Glowed in my bosom 
 Suffered and strove; 
 For which I flouted 
 Him, who conceived it:'" 
 For which in penance 
 Prisoned I lay, 
 While thinking it not 
 And feeling only. 
 For, in my thought. 
 Oh, should you guess it? 
 Was only my love for thee." 
 
 The erotic similes which now follow distinctly reveal 
 the motive of rebirth : 
 
 Siegfried: 
 
 A glorious flood 
 Before me rolls. 
 
 L 
 
426 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 With all my senses 
 
 I only see 
 
 Its buoyant, gladdening billows. 
 
 Though in the deep 
 
 I find not my face, 
 
 Burning, I long 
 
 For the water's balm; 
 
 And now as I am, 
 
 Spring in the stream. ^'^^ 
 
 O might its billows 
 
 Engulf me in bliss." 
 
 The motive of plunging into the maternal water of re- 
 birth (baptism) is here fully developed. An allusion to 
 the " terrible mother " Imago, the mother of heroes, who 
 teaches them fear, is to be found in Brunhllde's words 
 (the horse-woman, who guides the dead to the other 
 side) : 
 
 " Fearest thou, Siegfried? 
 Fearest thou not 
 The wild, furious woman?" 
 
 The orgiastic " Occide moriturus " resounds in Brun- 
 hilde's words : 
 
 '* Laughing let us be lost — 
 Laughing go down to death ! '' 
 
 And in the words 
 
 " Light-giving love. 
 Laughing death ! " 
 
 is to be found the same significant contrast. 
 
 The further destinies of Siegfried are those of the In- 
 
THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 427 
 
 victus : the spear of the gloomy, one-eyed Hagen strikes 
 Siegfried's vulnerable spot. The old sun, who has become 
 the god of death, the one-eyed Wotan, smites his off- 
 spring, and once again ascends in eternal rejuvenation. 
 The course of the invincible sun has supplied the mystery 
 of human life with beautiful and imperishable symbols; it 
 became a comforting fulfilment of all the yearning for 
 immortality, of all desire of mortals for eternal life. 
 
 Man leaves the mother, the source of libido, and is 
 driven by the eternal thirst to find her again, and to drink 
 renewal from her; thus he completes his cycle, and re- 
 turns again into the mother's womb. Every obstacle 
 which obstructs his life's path, and threatens his ascent, 
 wears the shadowy features of the " terrible mother," 
 who paralyzes his energy with the consuming poison of 
 the stealthy, retrospective longing. In each conquest he 
 wins again the smiling love and life-giving mother — 
 images which belong to the intuitive depths of human feel- 
 ing, the features of which have become mutilated and 
 irrecognizable through the progressive development of 
 the surface of the human mind. The stern necessity of 
 adaptation works ceaselessly to obliterate the last traces 
 of these primitive landmarks of the period of the origin 
 of the human mind, and to replace them along lines 
 which are to denote more and more clearly the nature of 
 real objects. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 THE SACRIFICE 
 
 After this long digression, let us return to Miss Mil- 
 ler's vision. We can now answer the question as to 
 the significance of Siegfried's longing for Brunhilde. It 
 is the striving of the libido away from the mother 
 towards the mother. This paradoxical sentence may be 
 translated as follows: as long as the libido is satisfied 
 merely with phantasies, it moves in itself, in its own 
 depths, in the mother.^ When the longing of our author 
 rises in order to escape the magic circle of the incestuous 
 and, therefore, pernicious, object, and it does not succeed 
 in finding reality, then the object is and remains irrevo- 
 cably the mother. Only the overcoming of the obstacles 
 of reality brings the deliverance from the mother, who is 
 the continuous and inexhaustible source of life for the 
 creator, but death for the cowardly, timid and sluggish. 
 
 Whoever is acquainted with psychoanalysis knows how 
 often neurotics cry out against their parents. To be sure, 
 such complaints and reproaches are often justified on ac- 
 count of the common human imperfections, but still more 
 often they are reproaches which should really be directed 
 towards themselves. Reproach and hatred are always 
 futile attempts to free one's self apparently from the par- 
 ents, but in reality from one's own hindering longing for 
 
 428 
 
THE SACRIFICE 429 
 
 the parents. Our author proclaims through the mouth 
 of her infantile hero Chiwantopel a series of insults 
 against her own family. We can assume that she must 
 renounce all these tendencies, because they contain an un- 
 recognized wish. This hero, of many words, who per- 
 forms few deeds and indulges in futile yearnings, is the 
 libido which has not fulfilled its destiny, but which turns 
 round and round in the kingdom of the mother, and, in 
 spite of all its longing, accomplishes nothing. Only he 
 can break this magic circle who possesses the courage of 
 the will to live and the heroism to carry it through. 
 Could this yearning hero-youth, Chiwantopel, but put an 
 end to his existence, he would probably rise again in the 
 form of a brave man seeking real life. This necessity 
 imposes itself upon the dreamer as a wise counsel and 
 hint of the unconscious in the following monologue of 
 Chiwantopel. He cries sadly : 
 
 " In all the world, there is not a single one! I have sought 
 among a hundred tribes. I have watched a hundred moons, since 
 I began. Can it be that there is not a solitary being who will 
 ever know my soul? Yes, by the sovereign God, yes! But ten 
 thousand moons will wax and wane before that pure soul is born. 
 And it is from another world that her parents will come to this 
 one. She will have pale skin and pale locks. She will know sor- 
 row before her mother bears her. Suffering will accompany her; 
 she will seek also, and she will find, no one who understands her. 
 Temptation will often assail her soul — but she will not yield. 
 In her dreams, I will come to her, and she will understand. / have 
 kept my body inviolate. I have come ten thousand moons before 
 her epoch, and she will come ten thousand moons too late. But 
 she will understand! There is only once in all the ten thousand 
 moons that a soul like hers is born." 
 
430 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Thereupon a green serpent darts from the hushes, 
 glides towards him and stings him on the arm, then at- 
 tacks the horse, which succumbs first. Then Chiwantopel 
 says to his horse : 
 
 " 'Adieu, faithful brother! Enter into rest! I have loved you, 
 and you have served me well. Adieu. Soon I will rejoin you! ' 
 Then to the snake : ' Thanks, little sister, you have put an end to 
 my wanderings.' " 
 
 Then he cried with grief and spoke his prayer: 
 
 " ' Sovereign God, take me soon ! I have tried to know thee, 
 and to keep thy law! O, do not suffer my body to fall into cor- 
 ruption and decay, and to furnish the vultures with food ! ' A 
 smoking crater is perceived at a distance, the rumbling of an 
 earthquake is heard, followed by a trembling of the ground." 
 
 Chiwantopel cries in the delirium of suffering, while 
 the earth covers his body : 
 
 " I have kept my body inviolate. Ah! She understands. Ja- 
 ni-wa-ma, Ja-ni-wa-ma, thou who comprehendeth me." 
 
 Chiwantopel's prophecy is a repetition of Longfellow's 
 " Hiawatha," where the poet could not escape sentimen- 
 tality, and at the close of the career of the hero, Hia- 
 watha, he brings in the Savior of the white people, in the 
 guise of the arriving illustrious representatives of the 
 Christian religion and morals. (One thinks of the work 
 of redemption of the Spaniards in Mexico and Peru!) 
 With this prophecy of Chiwantopel, the personality of the 
 author is again placed in the closest relation to the hero, 
 and, indeed, as the real object of Chiwantopel's longing. 
 
THE SACRIFICE 431 
 
 Most certainly the hero would have married her, had she 
 lived at his time; but, unfortunately, she comes too late. 
 The connection proves our previous assertion that the 
 libido moves round in a circle. The author loves herself; 
 that Is to say, she, as the hero, Is sought by one who comes 
 too late. This motive of coming too late is characteristic 
 of the infantile love : the father and the mother can- 
 not be overtaken. The separation of the two personal- 
 ities by ten thousand moons Is a wish fulfilment; with that 
 the incest relation is annulled In an effectual manner. 
 This white heroine will seek without being understood. 
 (She Is not understood, because she cannot understand 
 herself rightly.) And she will not find. But In dreams, 
 at least, they will find each other, " and she will under- 
 stand." The next sentence of the text reads: 
 
 " I have kept my body inviolate." 
 
 This proud sentence, which naturally only a woman can 
 express, because man Is not accustomed to boast In that 
 direction, again confirms the fact that all enterprises have 
 remained but dreams, that the body has remained " invio- 
 late." When the hero visits the heroine In a dream, It Is 
 clear what Is meant. This assertion of the hero's, that he 
 has remained inviolate, refers back to the unsuccessful 
 attempt upon his life In the previous chapter (huntsman 
 with the arrow), and clearly explains to us what was 
 really meant by this assault; that Is to say, the refusal 
 of the coitus phantasy. Here the wish of the unconscious 
 obtrudes itself again, after the hero had repressed it the 
 first time, and thereupon he painfully and hysterically 
 
432 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 utters this monologue. " Temptation will often assail 
 her soul — but it will not yield." This very bold assertion 
 reduces — noblesse oblige — the unconscious to an enormous 
 infantile megalomania, which is always the case when the 
 libido is compelled, through similar circumstances, to re- 
 gressions. " Only once in all the ten thousand moons is 
 a soul born like mine ! " Here the unconscious ego ex- 
 pands to an enormous degree, evidently in order to cover 
 with its boastfulness a large part of the neglected duty 
 of life. But punishment follows at its heels. Whoever 
 prides himself too much on having sustained no wound 
 in the battle of life lays himself open to the suspicion that 
 his fighting has been with words only, whilst actually he 
 has remained far away from the firing-line. This spirit is 
 just the reverse of the pride of those savage women, 
 who point with satisfaction to the countless scars which 
 were given them by their men in the sexual fight for 
 supremacy. In accordance with this, and in logical 
 continuation of the same, all that follows is expressed in 
 figurative speech. The orgiastic " Occide moriturus " in 
 its admixture with the reckless laughter of the Dionysian 
 frenzy confronts us here in sorry disguise with a senti- 
 mental stage trickery worthy of our posthumous edition 
 of " Christian morals." In place of the positive phallus, 
 the negative appears, and leads the hero's horse (his 
 libido animalis), not to satisfaction, but into eternal 
 peace — also the fate of the hero. This end means that 
 the mother, represented as the jaws of death, devours the 
 libido of the daughter. Therefore, instead of life and 
 procreative growth, only phantastic self-oblivion results. 
 
THE SACRIFICE 433 
 
 This weak and inglorious end has no elevating or illumi- 
 nating meaning so long as we consider it merely as the so- 
 lution of an individual erotic conflict. The fact that the 
 symbols under which the solution takes place have actually 
 a significant aspect, reveals to us that behind the individual 
 mask, behind the veil of " individuation," a primitive idea 
 stands, the severe and serious features of which take from 
 us the courage to consider the sexual meaning of the Mil- 
 ler symbolism as all-sufficient. 
 
 It is not to be forgotten that the sexual phantasies of 
 the neurotic and the exquisite sexual language of dreams 
 are regressive phenomena. The sexuality of the uncon- 
 scious is not what it seems to be; it is merely a symbol; 
 it is a thought bright as day, clear as sunlight, a decision, 
 a step forward to every goal of life — but expressed in the 
 unreal sexual language of the unconscious, and in the 
 thought form of an earlier stage; a resurrection, so to 
 speak, of earlier modes of adaptation. When, therefore, 
 the unconscious pushes into the foreground the coitus 
 wish, negatively expressed, it means somewhat as follows : 
 under similar circumstances primitive man acted in such 
 and such a manner. The mode of adaptation which to- 
 day is unconscious for us is carried on by the savage 
 Negro of the present day, whose undertakings beyond 
 those of nutrition appertain to sexuality, characterized by 
 violence and cruelty. Therefore, in view of the archaic 
 mode of expression of the Miller phantasy, we are jus- 
 tified in assuming the correctness of our interpretation for 
 the lowest and nearest plane only. A deeper stratum of 
 meaning underlies the earlier assertion that the figure of 
 
434 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Chiwantopel has the character of Cassius, who has a lamb 
 as a companion. Therefore, Chiwantopel is the portion 
 of the dreamer's libido bound up with the mother (and, 
 therefore, masculine) ; hence he is her infantile person- 
 ality, the childishness of character, which as yet is unable 
 to understand that one must leave father and mother, 
 when the time is come, in order to serve the destiny of the 
 entire personality. This is outlined in Nietzsche's words : 
 
 "Free dost thou call thyself? Thy dominant thought would 
 I hear and not that thou hast thrown off a yoke. Art thou one 
 who had the right to throw off a yoke? There are many who 
 throw away their last value when they throw away their servi- 
 tude." 
 
 Therefore, when Chiwantopel dies, it means that herein 
 is a fulfilment of a wish, that this infantile hero, who 
 cannot leave the mother's care, may die. And if with that 
 the bond between mother and daughter is severed, a 
 great step forward is gained both for inner and outer 
 freedom. But man wishes to remain a child too long; he 
 would fain stop the turning of the wheel, which, rolling, 
 bears along with it the years; man wishes to keep his 
 childhood and eternal youth, rather than to die and suffer 
 corruption in the grave. (" O, do not suffer my body to 
 ^all into decay and corruption.") Nothing brings the 
 I relentless flight of time and the cruel perishability of all 
 blossoms more painfully to our consciousness than an in- 
 /^active and empty life. Idle dreaming is the mother of 
 the fear of death, the sentimental deploring of what has 
 been and the vain turning back of the clock. Although 
 man can forget in the long- (perhaps too long) guarded 
 
THE SACRIFICE 435 
 
 feelings of youth, In the dreamy state of stubbornly 
 held remembrances, that the wheel rolls onward, never- 
 theless mercilessly does the gray hair, the relaxation of 
 the skin and the wrinkles in the face tell us, that whether 
 or not we expose the body to the destroying powers of 
 the whole struggle of life, the poison of the stealthily 
 creeping serpent of time consumes our bodies, which, 
 alas! we so dearly love. Nor does it help if we cry out 
 with the melancholy hero Chlwantopel, " I have kept my 
 body Inviolate"; flight from life does not free us from 
 the law of age and death. The neurotic who seeks to 
 get rid of the necessities of life wins nothing and lays 
 upon himself the frightful burden of a premature age 
 and death, which must appear especially cruel on account 
 of the total emptiness and meaninglessness of his life. If 
 the libido Is not permitted to follow the progressive life, 
 which Is willing to accept all dangers and all losses, then 
 it follows the other road, sinking Into its own depths, 
 working down into the old foreboding regarding the im- 
 mortality of all life, to the longing for rebirth. 
 
 Holderlln exemplifies this path in his poetry and his 
 life. I leave the poet to speak in his song: 
 
 To the Rose. 
 ** In the Mother-womb eternal, 
 Sweetest queen of every lea, 
 Still the living and supernal 
 Nature carries thee and me. 
 
 " Little rose, the storm's fierce power 
 Strips our leaves and alters us ; 
 Yet the deathless germ will tower 
 To new blooms, miraculous." 
 
436 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 The following comments may be made upon the par- 
 able of this poem : The rose is the symbol of the beloved 
 woman (" Haidenroslein," heather rose of Goethe). 
 The rose blooms in the " rose-garden" of the maiden; 
 therefore, it is also a direct symbol of the libido. When 
 the poet dreams that he is with the rose in the mother- 
 womb of nature, then, psychologically, the fact is that his 
 hbido is with the mother. Here is an eternal germination 
 and renewal. We have come across this motive already 
 in the Hierosgamos hymn (Iliad XIV) : The nuptials 
 in the blessed West; that is to say, the union in and with 
 the mother. Plutarch shows us this motive in naive form 
 in his tradition of the Osiris myth; Osiris and Isis copu- 
 lating in the mother's womb. This is also perceived by 
 Holderlin as the enviable prerogative of the gods — to 
 enjoy everlasting infancy. Thus, in Hyperion, he says : 
 
 " Fateless, like the sleeping nursling, 
 Breathe the Heavenly ones; 
 Chastely guarded in modest buds, 
 Their spirits blossom eternally. 
 And their quiet eyes 
 Gaze out in placid 
 Eternal serenity." 
 
 This quotation shows the meaning of heavenly blisS: 
 Holderlin never was able to forget this first and greatest 
 happiness, the dreamy picture of which estranged him 
 from real life. Moreover, in this poem, the ancient 
 motive of the twitts in the mother's womb is intimated. 
 (Isis and Osiris in the mother's womb.) The motive is 
 archaic. There is a legend in Frobenius of how the great 
 
 i 
 
THE SACRIFICE 437 
 
 serpent (appearing from the little serpent in the hollow 
 tree, through the so-called stretching out of the serpent) 
 has finally devoured all men (devouring mother — death), 
 and only a pregnant woman remains alive; she digs a 
 ditch, covers it with a stone (grave — mother's womb), 
 and, living there, she gives birth to twins, the subsequent 
 dragon-killers (the hero in double form, man and phallus, 
 man and woman, man with his libido, the dying and rising 
 sun). 
 
 This existence together in the mother is to be found 
 also very beautifully expressed in an African myth (Fro- 
 benius) : 
 
 " In the beginning, Obatala, the heaven, and Odudua, the earth, 
 his wife, lay pressed firmly together in a calabas." 
 
 The guarding " in a modest bud " is an idea which has 
 appeared already in Plutarch, where it is said that the 
 sun was born in the morning from a flower bud. Brahma, 
 too, comes from the bud, which also gave birth in Assam 
 to the first human pair. 
 
 Humanity. 
 
 (An unfinished poem.) 
 
 " Scarcely sprouted from the waters, O Earth, 
 Are thy old mountain tops and diffuse odors, 
 While the first green islands, full of young woods, breathe delight 
 Through the May air over the Ocean. 
 
 " And joyfully the eye of the Sun-god looked down 
 Upon the firstlings of the trees and flowers; 
 Laughing children of his youth, born from thee ; 
 When on the fairest of the islands . . . 
 
438 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Once lay thy most beautiful child under the grapes; 
 
 Lay after a mild night; in the dawn, 
 
 In the daybreak a child born to thee, O Earth! 
 
 And the boy looks up familiarly 
 
 To his Father, Helios, 
 
 And, tasting the sweet grapes, 
 
 He picked the sacred vine for his nurse, 
 
 And soon he is grown ; the beasts 
 
 Fear him, for he is different from them: 
 
 This man ; he is not like thee, the father, 
 
 For the lofty soul of the father. 
 
 Is in him boldly united with thy pleasures, 
 
 And thy sadness, O Earth, 
 
 He may resemble the eternal Nature, 
 
 The mother of Gods, the terrible Mother. 
 
 " Ah! therefore, O Earth, 
 His presumption drives him away from thy breast, 
 And thy gifts are vain, the tender ones ; 
 Ever and ever too high does the proud heart beat. 
 
 " Out from the sweet meadow of his shores 
 Man must go into the flowerless waters. 
 And tho his groves shine with golden fruit, 
 Like the starry night, yet he digs. 
 He digs caves in the mountains, and seeks in the mines, 
 Far from the sacred rays of his father. 
 Faithless also to the Sun-god, 
 Who does not love weaklings, and mocks at cares. 
 
 " Ah! freer do the birds of the wood breathe: 
 Although the breast of man heaves wilder and more proudly. 
 His pride becomes fear, and the tender flowers 
 Of his peace do not bloom for long." 
 
 This poem betrays to us the beginning of the discord 
 between the poet and nature; he begins to be estranged 
 from reality, the natural actual existence. It is a re- 
 
THE SACRIFICE 439 
 
 markable idea how the little child chooses " the vine for 
 his nurse." This Dionysian allusion is very old. In the 
 significant blessing of Jacob it is said of Judah (Genesis, 
 chap, xlix, verse 11): 
 
 " Binding his foal unto the vine, and his ass's colt unto the 
 choice vine." 
 
 A Gnostic gem has been preserved upon which there 
 is a representation of an ass suckling her foal, above 
 which is the symbol of Cancer, and the circumscription 
 D.N.I.H.Y.X.P.S. : Dominus Noster Jesus Christus, with 
 the supplement Dei filius. As Justinus Martyr indignantly 
 observes, the connections of the Christian legend with that 
 of Dionysus are unmistakable. (Compare, for example, 
 the miracle of the wine.) In the last-named legend the 
 ass plays an important role. Generally speaking, the ass 
 has an entirely different meaning in the Mediterranean 
 countries than with us — an economic one. Therefore, it 
 is a benediction when Jacob says (Genesis, chap, xlix, 
 verse 14) : 
 
 " Issachar is a strong ass couching down between two burdens." 
 
 The above-mentioned thought is altogether Oriental. 
 Just as in Egypt the new-born sun is a bull-calf, in the 
 rest of the Orient it can easily be an ass's foal, to whom 
 the vine is the nurse. Hence the picture in the blessing 
 of Jacob, where it is said of Judah: 
 
 " His eyes are ruddy with wine and his teeth white with milk." 
 
 The mock crucifix of the Palatine, with an ass's head, 
 evidently alludes to a very significant background. 
 
440 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 To Nature. 
 
 " While about thy veil I lingered, playing, 
 
 And, like any bud, upon thee hung,^ 
 Still I felt thy heart in every straying 
 
 Sound about my heart that shook and clung. 
 While I groped with faith and painful yearning, 
 
 To your picture, glowing and unfurled, 
 Still I found a place for all my burning 
 
 Tears, and for my love I found a world ! 
 
 " To the Sun my heart, before all others. 
 
 Turned and felt its potent magicry ; 
 And it called the stars its little brothers,^ 
 
 And it called the Spring, God's melody; 
 And each breeze in groves or woodlands fruity 
 
 Held thy spirit — and that same sweet joy 
 Moved the well-springs of my heart with beauty— 
 
 Those were golden days without alloy. 
 
 " Where the Spring is cool in every valley,* 
 
 And the youngest bush and twig is green, 
 And about the rocks the grasses rally. 
 
 And the branches show the sky between, 
 There I lay, imbibing every flower 
 
 In a rapt, intoxicated glee. 
 And, surrounded by a golden shower. 
 
 From their heights the clouds sank down to me.^ 
 
 ** Often, as a weary, wandering river 
 
 Longs to join the ocean's placid mirth, 
 I have wept and lost myself forever 
 
 In the fulness of thy love, O Earth ! 
 Then — with all the ardor of my being — 
 
 Forth I rushed from Time's slow apathy, 
 Like a pilgrim home from travel, fleeing 
 
 To the arms of rapt Eternity. 
 
 ^'Blessed be childhood's golden dreams, their power 
 Hid from me Life's dismal poverty: 
 
THE SACRIFICE 441 
 
 All the heart's rich germs ye brought to flower; 
 
 Things I could not reach, ye gave to me! ' 
 In thy beauty and thy light, O Nature, 
 
 Free from care and from compulsion free, 
 Fruitful Love attained a kingly stature, 
 
 Rich as harvests reaped in Arcady. 
 
 " That w^hich brought me up, is dead and riven, 
 
 Dead the youthful world which was my shield ; 
 And this breast, which used to harbor heaven. 
 
 Dead and dry as any stubble-field. 
 Still my Springlike sorrows sing and cover 
 
 With their friendly comfort every smart — 
 But the morning of my life is over 
 
 And the Spring has faded from my heart. . . . 
 
 ** Shadows are the things that once we cherished ; 
 
 Love itself must fade and cannot bide; 
 Since the golden dreams of youth have perished, 
 
 Even friendly Nature's self has died. 
 Heart, poor heart, those days could never show it — 
 
 How far-off thy home, and where it lies . . . 
 Now, alas, thou nevermore wilt know it 
 
 If a dream of it does not suffice." 
 
 Palinodia. 
 
 "What gathers about me. Earth, in your dusky, friendly green? 
 What are you blowing towards me. Winds, what do you bring 
 
 again ? 
 There is a rustling in all the tree-tops. . . . 
 
 Why do you wake my soul ? 
 Why do ye stir in me the past, ye Kind ones? 
 Oh, spare me, and let them rest ; oh, do not mock 
 Those ashes of my joy. . . . 
 
 " O change your changeless gods — 
 And grow in your youth over the old ones. 
 
442 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 And if you would be akin to the mortals 
 
 The young girls will blossom for you. 
 
 And the young heroes will shine ; 
 
 And, sweeter than ever, 
 
 Morning will play upon the cheeks of the happy ones; 
 
 And, ravishing-sweet, you will hear 
 
 The songs of those who are without care. . . . 
 
 " Ah, once the living waves of song 
 Surged out of every bush to me ; 
 And still the heavenly ones glanced down upon me, 
 Their eyes shining with joy." 
 
 The separation from the blessedness of childhood, 
 from youth even, has taken the golden glamour from 
 nature, and the future Is hopeless emptiness. But what 
 robs nature of its glamour, and life of its joy, is the 
 poison of the retrospective longing, which harks back, in 
 order to sink into its own depths : 
 
 Empedocles. 
 
 " Thou seekest life — and a godly fire springs to thee, 
 Gushing and gleaming, from the deeps of the earth; 
 And, with shuddering longing. 
 Throws thee down into the flames of Aetna. 
 
 " So, through a queen's wanton whim. 
 Pearls are dissolved in wine — restrain her not! 
 Didst thou not throw thy riches. Poet, 
 Into the bright and bubbling cup! 
 
 " Still thou art holy to me, as the Power of Earth 
 Which took thee away, lovely assassin ! . . . 
 And I would have followed the hero to the depths, 
 Had Love not held me." 
 
THE SACRIFICE 443 
 
 This poem betrays the secret longing for the maternal 
 depths/ 
 
 He would like to be sacrificed in the chalice, dissolved 
 in wine like pearls (the "crater" of rebirth), yet love 
 holds him within the light of day. The libido still has 
 an object, for the sake of which life is worth living. But 
 were this object abandoned, then the libido would sink 
 into the realm of the subterranean, the mother, who 
 brings forth again: 
 
 Obituary. 
 (Unfinished poem.) 
 
 " Daily I go a different path. 
 Sometimes into the green wood, sometimes to the bath in the 
 
 spring; 
 Or to the rocks where the roses bloom. 
 From the top of the hill I look over the land, 
 Yet nowhere, thou lovely one, nowhere in the light do I find 
 
 thee ; 
 And in the breezes my words die away, 
 The sacred words which once we had. 
 
 " Aye, thou art far away, O holy countenance ! 
 And the melody of thy life is kept from me, 
 No longer overheard. And, ah, where are 
 Thy magic songs which once soothed my heart 
 With the peace of Heaven? 
 How long it is, how long! 
 
 The youth is aged ; the very earth itself, which once smiled on me, 
 Has grown different. 
 
 " Oh, farewell ! The soul of every day departs, and, departing, 
 turns to thee — 
 And over thee there weeps 
 r The eye that, becoming brighter, 
 ^L Looks down, 
 ^H There where thou tarriest." 
 
444 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 This distinctly suggests a renunciation, an envy of one's 
 own youth, that time of freedom which one would like 
 to retain through a deep-rooted dislike to all duty and 
 endeavor which is denied an immediate pleasure reward. 
 Painstaking work for a long time and for a remote object 
 is not in the nature of child or primitive man. It is diffi- 
 cult to say if this can really be called laziness, but it 
 seems to have not a little in common with it, in so far as 
 the psychic life on a primitive stage, be it of an infantile 
 or archaic type, possesses an extreme inertia and irre- 
 sponsibility in production and non-production. 
 
 The last stanza portends evil, a gazing towards the 
 other land, the distant coast of sunrise or sunset; love no 
 longer holds the poet, the bonds with the world are torn 
 and he calls loudly for assistance to the mother : 
 
 Achilles. 
 " Lordly son of the Gods ! Because you lost your loved one, 
 You went to the rocky coast and cried aloud to the flood, 
 Till the depths of the holy abyss heard and echoed your grief, 
 From the far reaches of your heart. Down, deep down, far 
 
 from the clamor of ships, 
 Deep under the waves, in a peaceful cave, 
 Dwelt the beautiful Thetis, she who protected you, the Goddess 
 
 of the Sea, 
 Mother of the youth was she ; the powerful Goddess, 
 She who once had lovingly nursed him. 
 
 On the rocky shore of his island ; she who had made him a hero 
 With the might of her strengthening bath and the powerful song 
 
 of the waves. 
 And the mother, mourning, hearkened to the cry of her child, 
 And rose, like a cloud, from the bed of the sea, 
 Soothing with tender embraces the pains of her darling; 
 And he listened, while she, caressing, promised to soften his grief. 
 
THE SACRIFICE 445 
 
 " Son of the Gods! Oh, were I like you, then could I confidently 
 Call on the Heavenly Ones to hearken to my secret grief. 
 But never shall I see this — I shall bear the disgrace 
 As if I never belonged to her, even though she thinks of me with 
 
 tears. 
 Beneficent Ones! And yet Ye hear the lightest prayers of men. 
 Ah, how rapt and fervently I worshipped you, holy Light, 
 Since I have lived, the Earth and its fountains and woodlands. 
 Father Ether — and my heart has felt you about me, so ardent 
 
 and pure — 
 Oh, soften my sorrows, ye Kind Ones, 
 That my soul may not be silenced, may not be struck dumb too 
 
 early ; 
 That I may live and thank Ye, O Heavenly Powers, 
 With joyful songs through all the hurrying days. 
 Thank ye for gifts of the past, for the joys of vanished Youth — 
 And then, pray, take me, the lonely one. 
 Graciously, unto yourselves." 
 
 These poems describe more plainly than could be de- 
 picted with meagre words the persistent arrest and the 
 constantly growing estrangement from life, the gradual 
 deep immersion into the maternal abyss of the individual 
 being. The apocalyptic song of Patmos is strangely re- 
 lated to these songs of retrogressive longing. It enters 
 as a dismal guest surrounded by the mist of the depths, 
 the gathering clouds of Insanity, bred through the mother. 
 In it the primitive thoughts of the myth, the suggestion 
 clad In symbols, of the sun-like death and resurrection of 
 life, again burst forth. Similar things are to be found in 
 abundance among sick people of this sort. 
 
 I reproduce some significant fragments from Patmos : 
 
 " Near is the God 
 And hard to comprehend, 
 
446 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 But where Danger threatens 
 The Rescuer appears." 
 
 These words mean that the libido has now sunk to the 
 lowest depths, where "the danger is great." (Faust, 
 Part II, Mother scene.) There "the God is near"; 
 there man may find the inner sun, his own nature, sun- 
 like and self-renewing, hidden in the mother-womb like 
 the sun in the nighttime : 
 
 ". . . In Chasms 
 And in darkness dwell 
 The eagles; and fresh and fearlessly 
 The Sons of the Alps pass swiftly over the abyss 
 Upon lightly swinging bridges." 
 
 With these words the dark phantastic poem passes on. 
 The eagle, the bird of the sun, dwells in darkness — the 
 libido has hidden Itself, but high above It the inhabitants 
 of the mountains pass, probably the gods (" Ye are walk- 
 ing above In the light"), symbols of the sun wandering 
 across the sky, like the eagle flying over the depths : 
 
 ". . . Above and around are reared 
 The summits of Time, 
 And the loved ones, though near. 
 Live on deeply separated mountains. 
 So give us waters of innocence, 
 And give us wings of true understanding. 
 With which to pass across and to return again." 
 
 The first is a gloomy picture of the mountains and of 
 time — although caused by the sun wandering over the 
 mountains, the following picture a nearness, and at the 
 
I 
 
 THE SACRIFICE 447 
 
 same time separation, of the lovers, and seems to hint at 
 life in the underworld,* where he is united with all that 
 once was dear to him, and yet cannot enjoy the happiness 
 of reunion, because it is all shadows and unreal and devoid 
 of life. Here the one who descends drinks the waters of 
 innocence, the waters of childhood, the drink of rejuve- 
 nation,® so wings may grow, and, winged, he may soar up 
 again into life, like the winged sun, which arises like a 
 swan from the water ("Wings, to pass across and to 
 return again ") : 
 
 ". . . So I spoke, and lo, a genie 
 Carried me off, swifter than I had imagined, 
 And farther than ever I had thought 
 From my own house! 
 It grew dark 
 As I went in the twilight. 
 The shadowy wood, 
 
 And the yearning brooks of my home-land 
 Grew vague behind me — 
 And I knew the country no longer." 
 
 After the dark and obscure words of the introduction, 
 wherein the poet expresses the prophecy of what is to 
 come, the sun journey begins ("night journey in the 
 sea ") towards the east, towards the ascent, towards the 
 mystery of eternity and rebirth, of which Nietzsche also 
 dreams, and which he expressed in significant words: 
 
 " Oh, how could I not be ardent for eternity, and for the nup- 
 tial ring of rings — :the ring of the return! Never yet have I 
 found the woman from whom I wish children, unless she would 
 be this woman whom I love ; for I love thee, O eternity." 
 
448 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 Holderlin expresses this same longing in a beautiful 
 symbol, the individual traits of which are already familiar 
 to us: 
 
 ". . . But soon in a fresh radiance 
 Mysteriously 
 
 Blossoming in golden smoke, 
 With the rapidly growing steps of the sun, 
 Making a thousand summits fragrant, 
 Asia arose ! 
 And, dazzled, 
 
 I sought one whom I knew ; 
 For unfamiliar to me were the broad roads, 
 Where from Tmolus 
 Comes the gilded Pactol, 
 And Taurus stands and Messagis — 
 And the gardens are full of flowers. 
 But high up in the light 
 The silvery snow gleams, a silent fire ; 
 And, as a symbol of eternal life. 
 On the impassable walls. 
 Grows the ancient ivy.^° 
 
 And carried by columns of living cedars and laurels 
 Are the solemn, divinely built palaces." 
 
 The symbol is apocalyptic, the maternal city in the 
 land of eternal youth, surrounded by the verdure and 
 flowers of imperishable spring." The poet identifies him- 
 self here with John, who lived on Patmos, who was once 
 associated with " the sun of the Highest," and saw him 
 face to face : 
 
 " There at the Mystery of the Vine they met. 
 There at the hour of the Holy Feast they gathered, 
 And — feeling the approach of Death in his great, quiet soul, 
 
THE SACRIFICE 449 
 
 The Lord, pouring out his last love, spoke, 
 
 And then he died. 
 
 Much could be said of it — 
 
 How his triumphant glance, 
 
 The happiest of all, 
 
 Was seen by his companions, even at the last. 
 
 Therefore he sent the Spirit unto them, 
 
 And the house trembled, solemnly; 
 
 And, with distant thunder. 
 
 The storm of God rolled over the cowering heads 
 
 Where, deep in thought, 
 
 The heroes of death were assembled. . . . 
 
 Now, when he, in parting. 
 
 Appeared once more before them. 
 
 Then the kingly day, the day of the sun, was put out, 
 
 And the gleaming sceptre, formed of his rays, 
 
 Was broken — and suffered like a god itself. 
 
 Yet it shall return and glow again 
 
 When the right time comes." 
 
 The fundamental pictures are the sacrificial death and 
 the resurrection of Christ, like the self-sacrifice of the 
 sun, which voluntarily breaks its sceptre, the fructifying 
 rays, in the certain hope of resurrection. The following 
 comments are to be noted In regard to " the sceptre of 
 rays " : Splelreln's patient says, " God pierces through 
 the earth with his rays." The earth. In the patient's mind, 
 has the meaning of woman. She also comprehends the 
 sunbeam In mythologic fashion as something solid: 
 " Jesus Christ has shown me his love, by striking against 
 the window with a sunbeam." Among other Insane pa- 
 tients I have come across the same Idea of the solid sub- 
 stance of the sunbeam. Here there Is also a hint of the 
 
450 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 phallic nature of the instrument which is associated with 
 the hero. Thor's hammer, which, cleaving the earth, 
 penetrates deeply into it, may be compared to the foot of 
 Kaineus. The hammer is retained in the interior of the 
 earth, like the treasure, and, in the course of time, it 
 gradually comes again to the surface ("the treasure 
 blooms"), meaning that it was born again from the 
 earth. (Compare what has been said concerning the 
 etymology of " swelling.") On many monuments Mithra 
 holds a peculiar object in his hands, which Cumont com- 
 pares to a half-filled tube. Dieterich proves from his 
 papyrus text that the object is the shoulder of the bull, 
 the bear constellation. The shoulder has an indirect 
 phallic meaning, for it is the part which is wanting in 
 Pelops. Pelops was slaughtered by his father, Tantalus, 
 dismembered, and boiled in a kettle, to make a meal for 
 the gods. Demeter had unsuspectingly eaten the shoulder 
 from this feast, when Zeus discovered the outrage. He 
 had the pieces thrown back into the kettle, and, with the 
 help of the life-dispensing Clotho, Pelops was regen- 
 erated, and the shoulder which was missing was replaced 
 by an ivory one. This substitution is a close parallel to 
 the substitution of the missing phallus of Osiris. Mithra 
 is represented in a special ceremony, holding the bull's 
 shoulder over Sol, his son and vice-regent. This scene 
 may be compared to a sort of dedication, or accolade 
 (something like the ceremony of confirmation). The 
 blow of the hammer as a generating, fructifying, inspir- 
 ing function is retained as a folk-custom and expressed 
 by striking with the twig of life, which has the significance 
 
THE SACRIFICE 451 
 
 of a charm of fertility. In the neuroses, the sexual mean- 
 ing of castigation plays an important part, for among 
 many children castigation may elicit a sexual orgasm. 
 The ritual act of striking has the same significance of 
 generating (fructifying), and is, indeed, merely a variant 
 of the original phallic ceremonial. Of similar character 
 to the bull's shoulder is the cloven hoof of the devil, to 
 which a sexual meaning also appertains. The ass's jaw- 
 bone wielded by Samson has the same worth. In the 
 Polynesian Maui myth the jawbone, the weapon of the 
 hero, is derived from the man-eating woman, Muri- 
 ranga-whenua, whose body swells up enormously from 
 lusting for human flesh (Frobenius). Hercules' club is 
 made from the wood of the maternal olive tree. Faust's 
 key also " knows the mothers." The libido springs from 
 the mother, and with this weapon alone can man over- 
 come death. 
 
 It corresponds to the phallic nature of the ass's jaw- 
 bone, that at the place where Samson threw it God caused 
 a spring to gush forth ^- (springs from the horse's tread, 
 footsteps, horse's hoof). To this relation of meanings 
 belongs the magic wand, the sceptre in general. 
 ^KrJTrrpov belongs to anano'i, GHr/ndvooVy ghi]71oov = 
 staff; GuriTtro^ = storm-wind; Latin scapus ■= shaft, 
 stock, scapula, shoulder; Old High German Scaft = 
 spear, lance. ^" We meet once more in this compilation 
 those connections which are already well known to us: 
 Sun-phallus as tube of the winds, lance and shoulder- 
 blade. 
 
 The passage from Asia through Patmos to the Chris- 
 
452 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 tian mysteries In the poem of Holderlln Is apparently a 
 superficial connection, but In reality a very Ingenious train 
 of thought; namely, the entrance Into death and the land 
 beyond as a self-sacrifice of the hero, for the attainment 
 of Immortality. At this time, when the sun has set, when 
 love is apparently dead, man awaits in mysterious joy 
 the renewal of all life: 
 
 ". . . And Joy it was 
 From now on 
 
 To live in the loving night and see 
 The eyes of innocence hold the unchanging 
 Depths of all wisdom." 
 
 Wisdom dwells in the depths, the wisdom of the mother : 
 being one with it. Insight Is obtained into the meaning 
 of deeper things. Into all the deposits of primitive times, 
 the strata of which have been preserved in the soul. 
 Holderlln, in his diseased ecstasy, feels once more the 
 greatness of the things seen, but he does not care to bring 
 up to the light of day that which he had found In the 
 depths — in this he differs from Faust. 
 
 " And it is not an evil, if a few 
 Are lost and never found, and if the speech 
 Conceals the living sound ; 
 Because each godly work resembles ours ; 
 And yet the Highest does not plan it all — 
 The great pit bears two irons. 
 And the glowing lava of Aetna. . . . 
 Would I had the power 
 To build an image and see the Spirit — 
 See it as it was! " 
 
THE SACRIFICE 453 
 
 He allows only one hope to glimmer through, formed 
 in scanty words : 
 
 "He wakes the dead ; 
 They who are not enchained and bound, 
 They who are not unwrought. 
 . . . And if the Heavenly Ones 
 Now, as I believe, love me — 
 . . , Silent is his sign ^* 
 In the dusky sky. And one stands under it 
 His whole life long — for Christ still lives." 
 
 But, as once Gilgamesh, bringing back the magic herb 
 from the west land, was robbed of his treasure by the 
 demon serpent, so does Holderlin's poem die away in a 
 painful lament, which betrays to us that no victorious res- 
 urrection will follow his descent to the shadows : 
 
 ". . . Ignominiously 
 A power tears our heart away, 
 For sacrifices the heavenly ones demand." 
 
 This recognition, that man must sacrifice the retro- 
 gressive longing (the incestuous libido) before the 
 " heavenly ones " tear away the sacrifice, and at the same 
 time the entire libido, came too late to the poet. There- 
 fore, I take it to be a wise counsel which the unconscious 
 gives our author, to sacrifice the infantile hero. This 
 sacrifice is best accomplished, as is shown by the most 
 obvious meaning, through a complete devotion to life, 
 in which all the libido unconsciously bound up in familial 
 bonds, must be brought outside into human contact. For 
 it is necessary for the well-being of the adult individual, 
 
 h 
 
454 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 who in his childhood was merely an atom revolving in 
 a rotary system, to become himself the centre of a new 
 system. That such a step implies the solution or, at least, 
 the energetic treatment of the individual sexual problem 
 is obvious, for unless this is done the unemployed libido 
 will inexorably remain fixed in the incestuous bond, and 
 will prevent individual freedom in essential matters. Let 
 us keep in mind that Christ's teaching separates man from 
 his family without consideration, and in the talk with 
 Nicodemus we saw the specific endeavor of Christ to pro- 
 cure activation of the incest libido. Both tendencies serve 
 the same goal — the liberation of man; the Jew from his 
 extraordinary fixation to the family, which does not Imply 
 higher development, but greater weakness and more un- 
 -controlled incestuous feeling, produced the compensation 
 of the compulsory ceremonial of the cult and the re- 
 ligious fear of the Incomprehensible Jehovah. When 
 man, terrified by no laws and no furious fanatics or 
 prophets, allows his incestuous libido full play, and does 
 not liberate it for higher purposes, then he Is under the 
 influence of unconscious compulsion. For compulsion is 
 the unconscious wish. (Freud.) He is under the domi- 
 nance of the libido eiixapfxevt]'^ and his destiny does not 
 lie In his own hands; his adventures, Tvxoci jiai Moipai,\ 
 fall from the stars. His unconscious incestuous libido, 
 which thus is applied in its most primitive form, fixes the 
 man, as regards his love type, in a corresponding primi- 1 
 tive stage, the stage of ungovernableness and surrender 
 to the emotions. Such was the psychologic situation of 
 
 * Fate. t Chances and fates. 
 
THE SACRIFICE 455 
 
 the passing antiquity, and the Redeemer and Physician 
 of that time was he who endeavored to educate man to 
 the sublimation of the incestuous libido.^^ The destruc- 
 tion of slavery was the necessary condition of that sub- 
 limation, for antiquity had not yet recognized the duty 
 of work and work as a duty, as a social need of funda- 
 mental importance. Slave labor was compulsory work, 
 the counterpart of the equally disastrous compulsion of 
 the libido of the privileged. It was only the obligation 
 of the individual to work which made possible in the 
 long run that regular " drainage " of the unconscious, 
 which was inundated by the continual regression of the 
 libido. Indolence is the beginning of all vice, because 
 in a condition of slothful dreaming the libido has 
 abundant opportunity for sinking into itself, in order to 
 create 'compulsory obligations by means of regressively re- 
 animated incestuous bonds. The best liberation is 
 through regular work}^ Work; however, is salvation 
 only when it is a free act, and has in itself noth- 
 ing of infantile compulsion. In this respect, religious 
 ceremony appears in a high degree as organized inactiv- 
 ity, and at the same time as the forerunner of modern 
 work. 
 
 Miss Miller's vision treats the problem of the sacri- 
 fice of the infantile longing, in the first place, as an indi- 
 vidual problem, but if we cast a glance at the form of 
 this presentation, then we will become aware that here it 
 must concern something, which is also a problem of hu- 
 manity in general. For the symbols employed, the ser- 
 pent Vv'hich liilled the horse ^^ and the hero voluntarily 
 
456 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 sacrificing himself, are primitive figures of phanta- 
 sies and religious myths streaming up from the uncon- 
 scious. 
 
 In so far as the world and all within it is, above all, 
 a thought, which is credited with transcendental " sub- 
 stance " through the empirical need of the same, there 
 results from the sacrifice of the regressive libido the crea- 
 tion of the world; and, psychologically speaking, the world 
 in general. For him who looks backward the world, and 
 even the infinite starry sky, is the mother ^* who bends 
 over and encloses him on all sides, and from the renun- 
 ciation of this idea and from the longing for this idea 
 arises the image of the world. From this most simple 
 fundamental thought, which perhaps appears strange to 
 us only because it is conceived according to the principle 
 of desire and not the principle of reality,^^ results the 
 significance of the cosmic sacrifice. A good example of 
 this is the slaying of the Babylonian primitive mother 
 Tiamat, the dragon, whose body is destined to form the 
 heaven and the earth. We come upon this thought in its 
 most complete form in Hindoo philosophy of the most 
 ancient date; namely, in songs of Rigveda. In Rigveda 
 10: 8 1, 4, the song inquires: 
 
 ** What was the tree, what wood in sooth produced it, from which 
 they fashioned out the earth and heaven ? 
 Ye thoughtful men inquire within your spirit, whereon he stood 
 when he established all things." 
 
 Vigvakarman, the All-Creator, who created the world 
 from the unknown tree, did so as follows: 
 
THE SACRIFICE 457 
 
 " He who, sacrificing, entered into all these beings 
 As a wise sacrificer, our Father, who, 
 Striving for blessings through prayer, 
 Hiding his origin. 
 Entered this lowly world, 
 What and who has served him 
 As a resting-place and a support? " ^^ 
 
 Rigveda lo: 90, gives answer to these questions. 
 Purusha is the primal being who 
 
 ". . . covered earth on every side and 
 Spread ten fingers' breadth beyond." 
 
 One sees that Purusha is a sort of Platonic world soul, 
 who surrounds the world from without. Of Purusha it 
 is said: 
 
 " Being born he overtopped the earth 
 Before, behind, and in all places." 
 
 The mother symbolism is plain, it seems to me, in the 
 idea of Purusha. He represents the mother-imago and 
 the libido of the child clinging to her. From this as- 
 sumption all that follows is very easily explained: 
 
 " As sacrificial animal on the bed of straw 
 Was dedicated the Purusha, 
 Who was born on the straw, 
 Whom the Gods, the Blest, and the Wise, 
 Meeting there, sacrificed." 
 
 This verse is very remarkable; if one wishes to stretch 
 this mythology out on the procrustean bed of logic, sore 
 violence would have to be committed. It is an incredibly 
 
458 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 phantastic conception that, beside the gods, ordinary 
 " wise men " unite In sacrificing the primitive being, aside 
 from the circumstance that, beside the primitive being, 
 nothing had existed in the beginning (that Is to say, before 
 the sacrifice), as we shall soon see. If the great mystery 
 of the mother sacrifice is meant thereby, then all becomes 
 clear : 
 
 " From that great general sacrifice 
 The dripping fat was gathered up. 
 He formed the creatures of the air, 
 And animals both wild and tame. 
 From that great general sacrifice 
 RIchas and Sama-hymns were born; 
 Therefrom the metres were produced, 
 The Yajus had its birth from it. 
 
 " The moon was gendered from his mind 
 And from his eye the Sun had birth; 
 Indra and Agni from his mouth 
 Were born, and Vayu from his breath. 
 
 " Forth from his navel came midair; 
 The sky was fashioned from his head ; 
 Earth from his feet, and from his ears 
 The regions. Thus they formed the worlds." 
 
 It Is evident that by this Is meant not a physical, but a 
 psychological cosmogony. The world arises when man 
 discovers It. He discovers It when he sacrifices the 
 mother; that Is to say, when he has freed himself from 
 the midst of his unconscious lying In the mother. Thar 
 which Impels him forward to this discovery may be In- 
 terpreted psychologically as the so-called " Incest bar- 
 
V 
 
 THE SACRIFICE 459 
 
 / rier " of Freud. The incest prohibition places an end to 
 the childish longing for the food-giving mother, and com- 
 pels the libido, gradually becoming sexual, into the path 
 of the biological aim. The libido forced away from the 
 mother by the incest prohibition seeks for the sexual ob- 
 ject in the place of the forbidden mother. In this wider 
 psychologic sense, which expresses itself in the allegoric 
 language of the " incest prohibition," " mother," etc., 
 must be understood Freud's paradoxical sentence, " Orig- 
 inally we have known only sexual objects." -^ This sen- 
 tence must be understood psychologically throughout, in 
 the sense of a world image created from within out- 
 wards, which has, in the first place, nothing to do with 
 the so-called " objective " idea of the world. This is to 
 be understood as a new edition of the subjective idea of 
 the world corrected by reality. Biology, as a science of 
 objective experience, would have to reject uncondition- 
 ally Freud's proposition, for, as we have made clear 
 above, the function of reality can only be partly sexual; 
 in another equally important part it is self-preservation. 
 The matter appears different for that thought which ac- 
 companies the biological function as an epiphenomenon. 
 As far as our knowledge reaches, the individual act of 
 thought is dependent wholly or in greatest part on the 
 existence of a highly differentiated brain, whereas the 
 function of reality (adaptation to reality) is something 
 which occurs in all living nature as wholly independent 
 from the act of thought. This important proposition of 
 Freud's applies only to the act of thought, for thinking, 
 as we may recognize from manifold traces, arose dynami- 
 
46o PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 cally from the libido, which was split off from the original 
 object at the " incest barrier " and became actual when 
 the first budding sexual emotions began to flow in the 
 current of the libido which goes to the mother. Through 
 the incest barrier the sexual Hbido is forced away from the 
 identification with the parents, and introverted for lack 
 of adequate activity. It is the sexual libido which forces 
 the growing individual slowly away from his family. If 
 this necessity did not exist, then the family would always 
 remain clustered together in a solid group. Hence the 
 neurotic always renounces a complete erotic experience," 
 in order that he may remain a child. Phantasies seem to 
 arise from the introversion of the sexual libido. Since the 
 first childish phantasies most certainly do not attain the 
 qualityof a consciousplan,and as phantasies likewise (even 
 among adults) are almost always the direct derivates of 
 the unconscious, it is, therefore, highly probable that the 
 first phantastic manifestations arise from an act of re- 
 gression. As we illustrated earlier, the regression goes 
 back to the presexual stage, as many traces show. Here 
 the sexual libido obtains again, so to speak, that universal 
 capacity of application, or capacity for displacement, 
 which it actually possessed at that stage when the sexual 
 application was not yet discovered. Naturally, no ade- 
 quate object is found in the presexual stage for the regres- 
 sive sexual libido, but only surrogates, which always leave 
 a wish; namely, the wish to have the surrogate as similar 
 as possible to the sexual goal. This wish is secret, how- 
 ever, for it is really an incest wish. The unsatisfied un- 
 conscious wish creates innumerable secondary objects. 
 
THE SACRIFICE 461 
 
 symbols for the primitive object, the mother (as the 
 Rigveda says, the creator of the world, " hiding his 
 origin," enters into things). From this the thought or 
 the phantasies proceed, as a desexualized manifestation 
 of an originally sexual libido. 
 
 From the standpoint of the libido, the term " incest 
 barrier " corresponds to one aspect, but the matter, how- 
 ever, may be considered from another point of view. 
 
 The time of undeveloped sexuality, about the third 
 and the fourth year, is, at the same time, considered exter- 
 nally, the period when the child finds himself confronted 
 with increased demands from the world of reality. He 
 can walk, speak and independently attend to a number 
 of other things. He sees himself in a relation to a 
 world of unlimited possibilities, but in which he dares 
 to do little or nothing, because he is as yet too much of 
 a baby and cannot get on without his mother. At this 
 time mother should be exchanged for the world. Against 
 this the past rises as the greatest resistance; this is 
 always so whenever man would undertake a new adapta- 
 tion. In spite of all evidence and against all conscious 
 resolutions, the unconscious (the past) always enforces 
 its standpoint as resistance. In this difficult position, pre- 
 cisely at this period of developing sexuality, we see the 
 dawning of the mind. The problem of the child at this 
 period is the discovery of the world and of the great trans- 
 subjective reality. For that he must lose the mother; 
 every step out into the world means a step away from 
 the mother. Naturally, all that which Is retrogressive In 
 men rebels against this step, and energetic attempts are 
 
462 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 made against this adaptation in the first place. There- 
 fore, this period of hfe is also that in which the first 
 clearly developed neuroses arise. The tendency of this 
 age is one directly opposed to that of dementia prascox. 
 The child seelcs to win the world and to leave the mother 
 (this is a necessary result). The dementia praecox pa- 
 tient, however, seeks to leave the world and to regain the 
 subjectivity of childhood. We have seen that in de- 
 mentia praecox the recent adaptation to reality is replaced 
 by an archaic mode of adaptation; that is to say, the 
 recent idea of the world is rejected in favor of an archaic 
 idea of the world. When the child renounces his task of 
 adaptation to reality, or has considerable difficulties in 
 this direction, then we may expect that the recent adapta- 
 tion will again be replaced by archaic modes of adapta- 
 tion. It would, therefore, be conceivable that through 
 regression in children archaic products would naturally 
 be unearthed; that is to say, old ways of functioning of 
 the thought system, which is inborn with the brain dif- 
 ferentiation, would be awakened. 
 
 According to my available but as yet unpublished ma- 
 terial, a remarkably archaic and at the same time gen- 
 erally applicable character seems to appertain to infantile 
 phantasy, quite comparable with the products of demen- 
 tia praecox. It does not seem improbable that through 
 regression at this age those same associations of elements 
 and analogies are reawakened which formerly constituted 
 the archaic idea of the world. When we now attempt to 
 investigate the nature of these elements, a glance at the 
 psychology of myths is sufficient to show us that the 
 
THE SACRIFICE 463 
 
 archaic idea was chiefly sexual anthropomorphism. It ap- 
 pears that these things in the unconscious childish phan- 
 tasy play an extraordinary role, as we can recognize 
 from examples taken at random. Just as the sexuaHsm of 
 neuroses is not to be taken literally but as regressive phan- 
 tasy and symbolic compensation for a recent unachieved 
 adaptation, so is the sexualism of the early infantile 
 phantasy, especially the incest problem, a regressive 
 product of the revival of the archaic modes of function, 
 outweighing actuality. On this account I have expressed 
 myself very vaguely in this work, I am sure, in regard to 
 the incest problem. This is done in order not to be re- 
 sponsible for the idea that I understand by it a gross 
 sexual inclination towards the parents. The true facts 
 of the case are much more complicated, as my investiga- 
 tions point out. Originally incest probably never pos- 
 sessed particularly great significance as such, because 
 cohabitation with an old woman for all possible motives 
 could hardly be preferred to mating with a young woman. 
 It seems that the mother has acquired incestuous sig- 
 nificance only psychologically. Thus, for example, the 
 incestuous unions of antiquity were not a result of a love 
 inclination, but of a special superstition, which is most 
 intimately bound up with the mythical ideas here treated. 
 A Pharaoh of the second dynasty is said to have mar- 
 ried his sister, his daughter and his granddaughter; the 
 Ptolemies were accustomed also to marriage with sis- 
 ters; Kambyses married his sister; Artaxerxes married 
 his two daughters; Qobad I (sixth century A. D.) mar- 
 ried his daughter. The Satrap Sysimithres married his 
 
464 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 mother. These incestuous unions are explained by the 
 circumstance that in the Zend Avesta the marriage of rela- 
 tives was directly commanded ;^^ it emphasized the re- 
 semblance of rulers to the divinity, and, therefore, was 
 more of an artificial than a natural arrangement, because 
 it originated more from a theoretical than from a bio- 
 logical inclination. (A practical impetus towards that lay 
 often in the peculiar laws of inheritance left over from the 
 Mutter recht, " maternal right " [matriarchal], period.) 
 The confusion which certainly frequently involved the 
 barbarians of antiquity in regard to the choice of their 
 sexual objects cannot very well be measured by the stand- 
 ard of present-day love psychology. In any case, the 
 incest of the semi-animal past is in no way proportionate 
 to the enormous significance of the incest phantasy among 
 civilized people. This disproportion enforces the as- 
 sumption that the incest prohibition which we meet even 
 amongst relatively lower races concerns rather the mythi- 
 cal ideas than the biological damage; therefore, the 
 ethnical prohibition almost always concerns the mother 
 and seldom the father. Incest prohibition can be under- 
 stood, therefore, as a result of regression, and as the 
 result of a libidinous anxiety, which regressively attacks 
 the mother. Naturally, it is difficult or impossible to 
 say from whence this anxiety may have come. I merely 
 venture to suggest that it may have been a question of a 
 primitive separation of the pairs of opposites which are 
 hidden in the will of life: the will for life and for death. 
 It remains obscure what adaptation the primitive man 
 tried to evade through Introversion and regression to the 
 
THE SACRIFICE 465 
 
 parents; but, according to the analogy of the soul Hfe 
 in general, it may be assumed that the libido, which dis- 
 turbed the initial equilibrium of becoming and of ceasing 
 to be, had been stored up in the attempt to make an 
 especially difficult adaptation, and from which it recedes 
 even today. 
 
 After this long digression, let us turn back to the song 
 of the Rigveda. Thinking and a conception of the world 
 arose from a shrinking back from stern reality, and 
 it is only after man has regressively assured himself 
 again of the protective parental power ^* that he enters 
 life wrapped in a dream of childhood shrouded in magic 
 superstititions; that is to say, "thinking,"'^ for he, tim- 
 idly sacrificing his best and assuring himself of the favor 
 of the invisible powers, step by step develops to greater 
 power, in the degree that he frees himself from his retro- 
 gressive longing and the original lack of harmony in his 
 being. 
 
 Rigveda 10, 90, concludes with the exceedingly sig- 
 nificant verse, which is of greatest importance for the 
 Christian mysteries as well: 
 
 " Gods, sacrificing, rendered homage to the sacrifice : these were 
 the earliest holy ordinances, 
 The mighty ones attained the height of heaven, there where the 
 Sadhyas, goddesses of old, are dwelling." 
 
 Through the sacrifice a fulness of power was attained, 
 which extends up to the power of the " parents," Thus 
 the sacrifice has also the meaning of a psychologic matu- 
 ration process. 
 
466 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 In the same manner that the world originated through 
 sacrifice, through the renunciation of the retrospective 
 mother libido, thus, according to the teachings of the 
 Upanishads, is produced the new condition of man, which 
 may be termed the immortal. This new condition is 
 again attained through a sacrifice; namely, through the 
 sacrificial horse which is given a cosmic significance in the 
 teaching of the Upanishads. What the sacrificial horse 
 means is told by Brihadaranyaka-Upanishad i : i : 
 
 " Om! 
 
 " I. The dawn is truly the head of the sacrificial horse, the sun 
 his eye, the wind his breath, his mouth the all-spreading fire, the 
 year is the body of the sacrificial horse. The sky is his back, the 
 atmosphere his body cavity, the earth the vault of his belly, the 
 poles are his sides, the space between the poles his ribs, the seasons 
 his limbs, the months and half-months his joints, day and night 
 his feet, the stars his bones, the clouds his flesh, the food, which he 
 digests, are the deserts; the rivers, his veins; liver and lungs, the 
 mountains ; the herbs and trees, his hair ; the rising sun is his fore- 
 part, the setting sun his hind-part. When he shows his teeth, that 
 is lightning; when he trembles, that is thunder; when he urinates, 
 that is rain ; his voice is speech. 
 
 " 2. The day, in truth, has originated for the horse as the 
 sacrificial dish, which stands before him ; his cradle is in the world- 
 sea towards the East; the night has originated for him as the sac- 
 rificial dish, which stands behind him ; its cradle is in the world-sea 
 of the evening; these two dishes originated in order to surround 
 the horse. As a charger he generated the gods, as champion he 
 produced the Gandharvas, as a racer the demons, as horse man- 
 kind. The Ocean is his relative, the ocean his cradle." 
 
 As Deussen remarks, the sacrificial horse has the sig- 
 nificance of a renunciation of the universe. When the 
 horse is sacrificed, then the world is sacrificed and de- 
 
THE SACRIFICE 467 
 
 stroyed, as it were — a train of thought which Schopen- 
 hauer also had in mind, and which appears as a product of 
 a diseased mind in Schreber.^® The horse in the above 
 text stands between two sacrificial vessels, from one of 
 which it comes and to the other of which it goes, just as 
 the sun passes from morning to evening. The horse, 
 therefore, signifies the libido, which has passed into the 
 world. We previously saw that the " mother libido " 
 must be sacrificed in order to produce the world; here the 
 world is destroyed by the repeated sacrifice of the same 
 libido, which once belonged to the mother. The horse 
 can, therefore, be substituted as a symbol for this libido, 
 because, as we saw, it had manifold connections with 
 the mother.^^ The sacrifice of the horse can only 
 produce another state of introversion, which is sim- 
 ilar to that before the creation of the world. The 
 position of the horse between the two vessels, which rep- 
 resent the producing and the devouring mother, hint at 
 the idea of life enclosed in the ovum; therefore, the ves- 
 sels are destined to " surround " the horse. That this 
 is actually so the Brihadaranyaka-Upanishad 3 : 3 proves : 
 
 " I. From where have the descendants of Parikshit come, that 
 I ask thee, Yajiiavalkya! From where came the descendants of 
 Parikshit? 
 
 "2. Yajnavalkya spake: 'He has told thee, they have come 
 from where all come, who offer up the sacrificial horse. That is 
 to say, this world extends so far as two and thirty days of the 
 chariot of the Gods (the sun) reach. This (world) surrounds 
 the earth twice around. This earth surrounds the ocean twice 
 around. There is, as broad as the edge of a razor or as the wing 
 of a fly, a space between (the two shells of the egg of the world). 
 
468 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 These were brought by Indra as a falcon to the wind: and the 
 wind took them up into itself and carried them where were the 
 offerers of the sacrificial horse. Somewhat like this he spoke 
 (Gandharva to thee) and praised the wind.' 
 
 "Therefore is the wind the special (vyashti) and the wind the 
 universal (samashti). He, who knows this, defends himself from 
 dying again." 
 
 As this text tells us, the offerers of the sacrificial horse 
 come in that narrowest fissure between the shells of the 
 egg of the world, at that place, where the shells unite and 
 where they are divided. The fissure (vagina) in the ma- 
 ternal world soul is designated by Plato in " Timaeus " by 
 X, the symbol of the cross. Indra, who as a falcon has 
 stolen the soma (the treasure attainable v/ith difficulty), 
 brings, as Psychopompos, the souls to the wind, to the 
 generating pneuma, which carries them forward to the 
 fissure or vagina, to the point of union, to the entrance 
 into the maternal egg. This train of thought of the 
 Hindoo philosophy briefly and concisely summarizes the 
 sense of innumerable myths; at the same time it Is a 
 striking example of the fact that philosophy is internally 
 nothing else but a refined and sublimated mythology. It 
 is brought to this refined state by the influence of the cor- 
 rector of reality.'^ We have emphasized the fact that 
 In the Miller drama the horse Is the first to die, as the 
 animal brother of the hero. (Corresponding to the early 
 death of the half-animal EabanI, the brother friend of 
 Gilgamesh.) This sacrificial death recalls the whole 
 category of mythological animal sacrifices. Volumes 
 could be filled with parallels, but we must limit ourselves 
 here to suggestions. The sacrificial animal, where It has 
 
THE SACRIFICE 469 
 
 lost the primitive meaning of the simple sacrificial gift, 
 and has taken a higher religious significance, stands in a 
 close relation to both the hero and the divinity. The 
 animal represents the god himself; ^® thus the bull ^^ rep- 
 resents Zagreus, Dionysus and Mithra; the lamb repre- 
 sents Christ,^^ etc. As we are aware, the animal symbols 
 ifepresent the animal libido. The sacrifice of the animal 
 jmeans, therefore, the sacrifice of the animal nature. This 
 is most clearly expressed in the religious legend of Attis. 
 Attis is the son lover of the divine mother, Agdistis Cybele. 
 Agdistis was characteristically androgynous,^" as symbol 
 of the mother-libido, like the tree; really a clear indica- 
 tion that the mother-imago has in addition to the sig- 
 nificance of the likeness of the real mother the meaning 
 of the mother of humanity, the libido in general. Driven 
 mad by the insanity-breeding mother enamored of him, 
 he emasculates himself, and that under a pine tree. (The 
 pine tree plays an important role in his service. Every 
 year a pine tree was wreathed about and upon it an 
 image of Attis was hung, and then it was cut down, which 
 represents the castration.) The blood, which spurted to 
 the earth, was transformed into budding violets. Cybele 
 now took this pine tree, bore it into her cavern and there 
 wept over it. (Pieta.) The chthonic mother takes her 
 son with her into the cavern — namely, into the womb — 
 according to another version. Attis was transformed into 
 the pine tree. The tree here has an essentially phallic 
 meaning; on the contrary, the attaching of the image of 
 Attis to the tree refers also to the maternal meaning. 
 ("To be attached to the mother.") In Ovid ("Meta- 
 
470 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 morphoses," Book X) the pine tree is spoken of as 
 follows : 
 
 " Grata deum matri, siquidem Cybeleius Attis 
 Exuit hac hominem, truncoque induruit illo." * 
 
 The transformation into the pine tree is evidently a 
 burial in the mother, just as Osiris was overgrown by the 
 heather. Upon the Attis bas-relief of Coblenz Attis ap- 
 pears growing out of a tree, which is interpreted by 
 Mannhardt as the " life-principle " of vegetation inherent 
 in the tree. It is probably a tree birth, just as with 
 Mithra. (Relief of Heddernheim.) As Firmicus ob- 
 serves, in the Isis and Osiris cult and also in the cult of 
 the virgin Persephone, tree and image had played a 
 role."^ Dionysus had the surname Dendrites, and in 
 Boeotia he is said to have been called i'vdevdpo?, 
 meaning " in a tree." (At the birth of Dionysus, Me- 
 gaira planted the pine tree on the Kithairon.) The Pen- 
 theus myth bound up with the Dionysus legend furnishes 
 the remarkable and supplementary counterpart to the 
 death of Attis, and the subsequent lamentation. Pen- 
 theus,^* curious to espy the orgies of the Maenades, 
 climbed upon a pine tree, but he was observed by his 
 mother; the Maenades cut down the tree, and Pentheus, 
 taken for an animal, was torn by them in frenzy,"^ his 
 own mother being the first to rush upon him. In this 
 myth the phaUic meaning of the tree (cutting down, cas- 
 tration) and its maternal significance (mounting and the 
 
 * Beloved of the mother of the gods, inasmuch as the Cybeline Attis 
 sheds his human shape in this way and stiffens into this tree trunk. 
 
THE SACRIFICE 471 
 
 sacrificial death of the son) is present; at the same time 
 the supplementary counterpart to the Pieta is apparent, 
 the " terrible mother." The feast of Attis was cele- 
 brated as a lamentation and then as a joy in the spring. 
 (Good Friday and Easter.) The priests of Attis-Cybele 
 worship were often eunuchs, and were called Galloi.^® 
 The archigallus was called Atys (Attis). ^^ Instead of 
 the animal castration, the priests merely scratched their 
 arms until they bled. (Arm in place of phallus, " the 
 twisting of arms.") A similar symbolism of the sac- 
 rificial impulse is met in the Mithraic religion, where es- 
 sential parts of the mysteries consist in the catching and 
 the subduing of the bull. 
 
 A parallel figure to Mithra is the primitive man Gayo- 
 mard. He was created together with his bull, and the 
 two hved for six thousand years in a blissful state. But 
 when the world came into the cycle of the seventh sign 
 of the Zodiac (Libra) the evil principle entered. Libra 
 is astrologically the so-called positive domicile of Venus; 
 the evil principle, therefore, came under the dominion 
 of the goddess of love (destruction of the sun-hero 
 through the mother-wife — snake, whore, etc). As a re- 
 sult, after thirty years, Gayomard and his bull died. 
 (The trials of Zartusht lasted also thirty years; compare 
 the span of Christ's life.) Fifty-five species of grain 
 came from the dead bull, twelve kinds of salubrious 
 plants, etc. The sperma of the bull entered into the moon 
 for purification, but the sperma of Gayomard entered 
 Into the sun. This circumstance possibly suggests a rather 
 feminine meaning of bull. Gosh or Drvagpa is the soul 
 
472 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 of the bull, and was worshipped as a female divinity. She 
 would not, at first, from diffidence, become the goddess 
 of the herds, until the coming of Zarathustra was an- 
 nounced to her as consolation. This has its parallel in 
 the Hindoo Purana, where the coming of Krishna was 
 promised the earth. (A complete analogy to Christ.^^) 
 She, too, travels in her chariot, like Ardvigiara, the god- 
 dess of love. The soul of the bull is, therefore, decidedly 
 feminine. This myth of Gayomard repeats only In an 
 altered form the primitive conception of the closed ring 
 of a male-female divinity, self-begetting and forth-bring- 
 ing. 
 
 Like the sacrificial bull, the fire, the sacrifice of which 
 we have already discussed in Chapter III, has a feminine 
 nature among the Chinese, according to the commen- 
 taries ^^ of the philosopher Tschwang-Tse : 
 
 " The spirit of the hearth is called Ki. He is clad in bright fed, 
 which resembles fire, and appears as a lovely, attractive maiden." 
 
 In the " Book of Rites " it is said: 
 
 " Wood is burned in the flames for the spirit of Au. This 
 sacrifice to Au is a sacrifice to old departed women." 
 
 These spirits of the hearth and fire are the souls of de- 
 parted cooks and, therefore, are called " old women." 
 The kitchen god develops from this pre-Buddhistic tra- 
 dition and becomes later (male sex) the ruler of the 
 family and the mediator between family and god. Thus 
 the old feminine fire spirit becomes a species of Logos. 
 (Compare with this the remarks in Chapter IIL) 
 
THE SACRIFICE 473 
 
 From the bull's sperma the progenitors of the cattle 
 came, as well as two hundred and seventy-two species of 
 useful animals. According to Minokhired, Gayomard 
 had destroyed the Dev Azur, who was considered the 
 demon of evil appetites/" In spite of the efforts of Zara- 
 thustra, this demon remained longest on the earth. He 
 was destroyed at last at the resurrection, like Satan in the 
 Apocalypse of John. In another version it is said that 
 Angromainyus and the serpent were left until the last, 
 so as to be destroyed by Ahuramazda himself. Accord- 
 ing to a surmise by Kern, Zarathustra may mean " golden- 
 star " and be identical with Mithra. Mithra's name is 
 connected with neo-Persian Mihr, which means " sun and 
 love." 
 
 In Zagreus we see that the bull Is also Identical with 
 the god; hence the bull sacrifice Is a god sacrifice, but on 
 a primitive stage. The animal symbol Is, so to speak, 
 only a part of the hero; he sacrifices only his animal; 
 therefore, symbolically, renounces only his animal nature. 
 The Internal participation In the sacrifice " is expressed 
 excellently in the anguished ecstatic countenance of the 
 bull-slaying Mithra. He does it willingly and unwill- 
 ingly ^^ hence the somewhat hysterical expression which 
 has some similarity to the well-known mawkish counte- 
 nance of the Crucified of Guldo Renl. Benndorf says : *^ 
 
 " The features, which, especially in the upper portion, bear an 
 absolutely ideal character, have an extremely morbid expression." 
 
 Cumont ** himself says of the facial expression of the 
 Tauroctonos : 
 
474 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 " The countenance, which may be seen in the best reproduc- 
 tions, is that of a young man of an almost feminine beauty; the 
 head has a quantity of curly hair, which, rising up from the fore- 
 head, surrounds him as with a halo; the head is slightly tilted 
 backwards, so that the glance is directed towards the heavens, and 
 the contraction of the brows and the lips give a strange expres- 
 sion of sorrow to the face." *^ 
 
 The Ostian head of MIthra Tauroctonos, illustrated 
 in Cumont, has, indeed, an expression which we recognize 
 in our patients as one of sentimental resignation. Sen- 
 timentality is repressed brutality. Hence the exceed- 
 ingly sentimental pose, which had its counterpart in the 
 symbolism of the shepherd and the lamb of contem- 
 poraneous Christianity, with the addition of infan- 
 tilism.*' 
 
 Meanwhile, it is only his animal nature wliich the god 
 sacrifices; that is to say, his sexuality,*^ always in close 
 analogy to the course of the sun. We have learned in 
 the course of this investigation that the part of the libido 
 which erects religious structures is in the last analysis 
 fixed in the mother, and really represents that tie through 
 which we are permanently connected with our origin. 
 Briefly, we may designate this amount of libido as 
 " Mother Libido." As we have seen, this libido conceals 
 itself in countless and very heterogeneous symbols, also 
 in animal images, no matter whether of masculine or fem- 
 inine nature — differences of sex are at bottom of a sec- 
 ondary value and psychologically do not play the part 
 which might be expected from a superficial observation. 
 
 The annual sacrifice of the maiden to the dragon prob- 
 ably represented the most ideal symbolic situation. In 
 
THE SACRIFICE 475 
 
 order to pacify the anger of the " terrible mother " the 
 most beautiful woman was sacrificed as symbol of man's 
 libido. Less vivid examples are the sacrifice of the first- 
 born and various valuable domestic animals. A second 
 ideal case is the self-castration in the service of the mother 
 (Dea Syria, etc.), a less obvious form of which is circum- 
 cision. By that at least only a portion is sacrificed.*^ 
 With these sacrifices, the object of which in ideal cases 
 is to symbolize the libido drawing away from the mother, 
 life is symbolically renounced in order to regain it. By 
 the sacrifice man ransoms himself from the fear of death 
 and reconciles the destroying mother. In those later re- 
 ligions, where the hero, who in olden times overcomes all 
 evil and death through his labors, has become the divine 
 chief figure, he becomes the priestly sacrificer and the 
 regenerator of life. But as the hero is an imaginary 
 figure and his sacrifice is a transcendental mystery, the 
 significance of which far exceeds the value of an or- 
 dinary sacrificial gift, this deepening of the sacrificial 
 symbolism regressively resumes the idea of the human 
 sacrifice. This is partly due to the preponderance of 
 phantastic additions, which always take their subject- 
 matter from greater depths, and partly due to the higher 
 religious occupation of the libido, which demanded a more 
 complete and equivalent expression. Thus the relation 
 between Mithra and his bull is very close. It is the hero 
 himself in the Christian mysteries who sacrifices himself 
 voluntarily. The hero, as we have sufficiently shown, is 
 the infantile personality longing for the mother, who as 
 Mithra sacrifices the wish (the libido), and as Christ 
 
476 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 gives himself to death both willingly and unwillingly. 
 Upon the monuments of the Mithraic religion we often 
 meet a strange symbol: a crater (mixing bowl) encoiled 
 by a serpent, sometimes with a lion, who as antagonist 
 opposes the serpent.*'' It appears as if the two were 
 fighting for the crater. The crater symbolizes, as we 
 have seen, the mother, the serpent the resistance defend- 
 ing her, and the lion the greatest strength and strongest 
 will.^° The struggle is for the mother. The serpent takes 
 part almost regularly in the Mithraic sacrifice of the 
 bull, moving towards the blood flowing from the wound. 
 It seems to follow from that that the life of the bull 
 (blood) is sacrificed to the serpent. Previously we have 
 pointed out the mutual relationship between serpent and 
 bull, and found there that the bull symbolizes the living 
 hero, the shining sun, but that the serpent symbolizes the 
 dead, buried or chthonic hero, the invisible sun. As the 
 hero is in the mother in the state of death, the serpent 
 is also, as the symbol of the fear of death, the sign of 
 the devouring mother. The sacrifice of the bull to the 
 serpent, therefore, signifies a willing renunciation of life, 
 in order to win it from death. Therefore, after the sac- 
 rifice of the bull, wonderful fertility results. The an- 
 tagonism between serpent and lion over the crater is to 
 be interpreted as a battle over the fruitful mother's 
 womb, somewhat comparable to the more simple symbol- 
 ism of the Tishtriya song, where the demon Apaosha, 
 the black horse, has possession of the rain lake, and the 
 white horse, Tishtriya, must banish him from it. Death 
 from time to time lays its destroying hand upon life and 
 
THE SACRIFICE 477 
 
 fertility and the libido disappears, by entering into the 
 mother, from whose womb it will be born renewed. It, 
 therefore, seems very probable that the significance of 
 the Mithraic bull sacrifice is also that of the sacrifice of 
 the mother who sends the fear of death. As the contrary 
 of the Occide moriturus is also intended here, so is the 
 act of sacrifice an impregnating of the mother; the 
 chthonic snake demon drinks the blood; that is to say, the 
 libido (sperma) of the hero committing incest. Life is 
 thus immortalized for the hero because, like the sun, he 
 generates himself anew. After all the preceding mate- 
 rials, it can no longer be difficult to recognize in the 
 Christian mysteries the human sacrifice, or the sacrifice 
 of the son to the mother. ^^ Just as Attis emasculates 
 himself on account of the mother, so does Christ himself 
 hang upon the tree of life,^- the wood of martyrdom, 
 the inarii,^ the chthonic mother, and by that redeems 
 creation from death. By entering again into the mother's 
 womb (Matuta, Pieta of Michelangelo) he redeems in 
 death the sin in life of the primitive man, Adam, in 
 order symbolically through his deed ^^ to procure for the 
 innermost and most hidden meaning of the religious 
 libido its highest satisfaction and most pronounced ex- 
 pression. The martyrdom of Christ has in Augustine as 
 well actually the meaning of a Hierosgamos with the 
 mother (corresponding to the Adonis festival, where 
 Venus and Adonis were laid upon the nuptial couch) : 
 
 " Procedit Christus quasi sponsus de thalamo suo, prssagio 
 nuptiarum exiit ad campum sasculi; pervenit usque ad crucis 
 
 * Hecate. 
 
478 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 torum (torus has the meaning of bed, pillow, concubine, bier) et 
 ibi firmavit ascendendo conjugium: ubi cum sentiret anhelantem 
 in suspiriis creaturam commercio pietatis se pro conjuge dedit ad 
 poenam et copulavit sibi perpetuo iure matronam." 
 
 This passage is perfectly clear. A similar death over- 
 takes the Syrian Melcarth, who, riding upon a sea horse, 
 was annually burned. Among the Greeks he is called 
 Melicertes, and was represented riding upon a dolphin. 
 The dolphin is also the steed of Arion. We have learned 
 to recognize previously the maternal significance of 
 dolphin, so that in the death of Melcarth we can once 
 more recognize the negatively expressed Hierosgamos 
 with the mother. (Compare Frazer " Golden Bough," 
 IV, p. 87.) This figurative expression is of the greatest 
 teleological significance. Through its symbol it leads 
 that libido which inclines backward into the original, 
 primitive and impulsive upwards to the spiritual by in- 
 vesting it with a mysterious but fruitful function. It is 
 superfluous to speak of the effect of this symbol upon 
 the unconscious of Occidental humanity. A glance over 
 history shows what creative forces were released in this 
 symbol.^* 
 
 The comparison of the Mithraic and the Christian 
 sacrifice plainly shows wherein lies the superiority of the 
 Christian symbol; it is the frank admission that not only 
 are the lower wishes to be sacrificed, but the whole per- 
 sonality. The Christian symbol demands complete de- 
 votion; it compels a veritable self-sacrifice to a higher 
 purpose, while the Sacrificium Mithriacum, remaining 
 fixed on a primitive symbolic stage, is contented with an 
 
THE SACRIFICE 479 
 
 animal sacrifice. The religious effect of these symbols 
 must be considered as an orientation of the unconscious 
 by means of imitation. 
 
 In Miss Miller's phantasy there is internal compul- 
 sion, in that she passes from the horse sacrifice to the 
 self-sacrifice of the hero. Whereas the first symbolizes 
 renunciation of the sexual wishes, the second has the 
 deeper and ethically more valuable meaning of the sac- 
 rifice of the infantile personality. The object of psycho- 
 analysis has frequently been wrongly understood to mean 
 the renunciation or the gratification of the ordinary sexual 
 wish, while, in reality, the problem is the sublimation of 
 the infantile personality, or, expressed mythologically, a 
 sacrifice and rebirth of the infantile hero.^^ In the Chris- 
 tian mysteries, however, the resurrected one becomes a 
 supermundane spirit, and the invisible kingdom of God, 
 with its mysterious gifts, are obtained by his believers 
 through the sacrifice of himself on the mother. In 
 psychoanalysis the infantile personality is deprived of its 
 libido fixations in a rational manner; the libido which is 
 thus set free serves for the building up of a personality 
 matured and adapted to reality, who does willingly and 
 without complaint everything required by necessity. (It 
 is, so to speak, the chief endeavor of the infantile person- 
 ality to struggle against all necessities and to create coer- 
 cions for itself where none exist in reality.) 
 
 The serpent as an instrument of sacrifice has already 
 been abundantly illustrated. (Legend of St. Silvester, 
 trial of the virgins, wounding of Re and Philoctetes, sym- 
 bolism of the lance and arrow.) It is the destroying 
 
 / 
 
48o PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 knife; but, according to the principle of the " Occide 
 morlturus " also the phallus, the sacrificial act represents 
 a coitus act as well.^'' The religious significance of the 
 serpent as a cave-dwelling, chthonic animal points to a 
 further thought; namely, to the creeping into the 
 mother's womb in the form of a serpent." As the horse 
 is the brother, so the serpent is the sister of Chiwantopel. 
 This close relation refers to a fellowship of these animals 
 and their characters with the hero. We know of the 
 horse that, as a rule, he is not an animal of fear, although, 
 mythologically, he has at times this meaning. He sig- 
 nifies much more the living, positive part of the libido, 
 the striving towards continual renewal, whereas the ser- 
 pent, as a rule, represents the fear, the fear of death, ^^ 
 and is thought of as the antithesis to the phallus. This 
 antithesis between horse and serpent, mythologically be- 
 tween bull and serpent, represents an opposition of the 
 libido within itself, a striving forwards and a striving 
 backwards at one and the same time.^® It is not only 
 as if the libido might be an irresistible striving forward, 
 an endless life and will for construction, such as Schopen- 
 hauer has formulated In his world will, death and every 
 end being some malignancy or fatality coming from with- 
 out, but the libido, corresponding to the sun, also wills 
 the destruction of its creation. In the first half of life 
 its will is for growth, in the second half of life it hints, 
 softly at first, and then audibly, at its will for death. 
 And just as in youth the impulse to unlimited growth often 
 lies under the enveloping covering of a resistance against 
 life, so also does the will of the old to die frequently lie 
 
THE SACRIFICE 481 
 
 under the covering of a stubborn resistance against the 
 end. 
 
 This apparent contrast in the nature of the libido is 
 strikingly illustrated by a Priapic statuette in the antique 
 collection at Verona.^" Priapus smilingly points with his 
 finger to a snake biting off his " membrum." He carries 
 
 PRIAPUS AND SERPENT 
 
 a basket on his arm, filled with oblong objects, probably 
 phalli, evidently prepared as substitutes. 
 
 A similar motive is found in the " Deluge " of Rubens 
 (in the Munich Art Gallery), where a serpent emascu- 
 lates a man. This motive explains the meaning of the 
 "Deluge"; the maternal sea is also the devouring 
 mother.*'^ The phantasy of the world conflagration, of 
 the cataclysmic end of the world in general, is nothing 
 but a mythological projection of a personal individual 
 will for death; therefore, Rubens could represent the 
 essence of the " Deluge " phantasy in the emasculation 
 by the serpent; for the serpent is our own repressed will 
 
482 PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 
 
 for the end, for which we find an explanation only with 
 the greatest difficulty. 
 
 Concerning the symbolism of the serpent in general, Its 
 significance Is very dependent upon the time of life and 
 circumstances. The repressed sexuality of youth Is sym- 
 bolized by the serpent, because the arrival of sexuality 
 puts an end to childhood. To age, on the contrary, the 
 serpent signifies the repressed thought of death. With 
 our author it is the Insufficiently expressed sexuality 
 which as serpent assumes the role of sacrificer and de- 
 livers the hero over to death and rebirth. 
 
 As in the beginning of our Investigation the hero's 
 name forced us to speak of the symbolism of Popocate- 
 petl as belonging to the creating part of the human body, 
 so at the end does the Miller drama again give us an 
 opportunity of seeing how the volcano assists In the 
 death of the hero and causes him to disappear by means 
 of an earthquake Into the depths of the earth. As the 
 volcano gave birth and name to the hero, so at the end of 
 the day it devours him again. ^^ We learn from the last 
 words of the hero that his longed-for beloved, she who 
 alone understands him, Is called Ja-nl-wa-ma. We find 
 In this name those lisped syllables familiar to us from 
 the early childhood of the hero, Hiawatha, Wawa, wama, 
 mama. The only one who really understands us Is the 
 mother. For verstehen, "to understand" (Old High 
 German firs tan), is probably derived from a primitive 
 Germanic prefix fri, Identical with Ttepi, meaning " round- 
 about." The Old High German antfriston, " to Inter- 
 pret," Is considered as Identical with firstdn. From that 
 
THE SACRIFICE 483 
 
 results a fundamental significance of the verb verstehen, 
 " to understand," as " standing round about some- 
 thing." ^^ Comprehendei e and >.ataffv][.Xaju/3dv€iv ex- 
 press a similar idea as the German erfassen, " to grasp, 
 to comprehend." The thing common to these expres- 
 sions is the surrounding, the enfolding. And there is no 
 doubt that there is nothing in the world which so com- 
 pletely enfolds us as the mother. When the neurotic 
 complains that the world has no understanding, he says 
 indirectly that he misses the mother. Paul Verlaine has 
 expressed this thought most beautifully in his poem, 
 " Mon Reve Familier " : 
 
 My Familiar Dream. 
 
 " Often I have that strange and poignant dream 
 
 Of some unknown who meets my flame with flame — 
 Who, with each time, is never quite the same, 
 
 Yet never wholly different does she seem. 
 
 She understands me! Every fitful gleam 
 
 Troubling my heart, she reads aright somehow: 
 Even the sweat upon my pallid brow 
 
 She soothes with tears, a cool and freshening stream. 
 
 " If she is dark or fair? I do not know — 
 Her name? Only that it is sweet and low, 
 
 Like those of loved ones who have long since died. 
 Her look is like a statue's, kind and clear ; 
 
 And her calm voice, distant and dignified. 
 Like those hushed voices that I loved to hear." 
 
NOTES 
 
 PART I 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 * He is said to have killed himself when he heard that she whom he 
 so passionately adored was his mother. 
 
 ^ " Wish Fulfilment and Symbolism in Fairy Tales." Tr. by W. A. 
 White, M.D. 
 
 ^ " Dream and Myth." Deuticke, Wien 1909. 
 
 * " The Myth of the Birth of the Hero." 
 
 * " Die Symbolik in den Legenden, Marchen, Gebrauchen und 
 Traumen." Psychiatrisch.-Neurologisclie Wochenschrift, X. Jahrgang. 
 
 ' " On the Nightmare." Amer. Journ. of Insanity, 1910. 
 
 '' Jahrbuch, 1910, Pt. II. 
 
 * " Die Frommigkeit des Grafen Ludwig von Zinzendorf. Ein psycho- 
 analytischer Beitrag zur Kenntnis der religiosen Sublimationprozesse 
 und zur Erklarung des Pietismus." Deuticke, Wien 1910. We have a 
 suggestive hint in Freud's work, " Eine Kindheitserinnerung des 
 Leonardo da Vinci." Deuticke, Wien 1910. 
 
 * Compare Rank in Jahrbuch, Pt. II, p. 465. 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 * Compare Liepmann, " Uber Ideenflucht," Halle 1904; also Jung, 
 " Diagnost. Assoc. Stud.," p. 103: " Denken als Unterordnung unter eine 
 herrschende Vorstellung"; compare Ebbinghaus, " Kultur der Gegen- 
 wart," p. 221. Kijlpe (" Gr. d. Psychologie," p. 464) expresses himself 
 in a similar manner: "In thinking it is a question of an anticipatory 
 apperception which sometimes governs a greater, sometimes a smaller 
 circle of individual reproductions, and is differentiated from accidental 
 motives of reproduction only by the consequence with which all things 
 outside this circle are held back or repressed." 
 
 ^ In his " Psychologia empirica meth. scientif. pertract.," etc., 1732, 
 p. 23, Christian Wolff says simply and precisely: " Cogitatio est actus 
 animae quo sibi rerumque aliarum extra se conscia est." 
 
 ° The moment of adaptation is emphasized especially by William 
 James in his definition of reasoning: "Let us make this ability to deal 
 with novel data the technical differentia of reasoning. This will 
 sufficiently mark it out from common associative thinking, and will 
 immediately enable us to say just what peculiarity it contains." 
 
 ^"Thoughts are shadows of our experiences, always darker, emptier, 
 
 485 
 
486 THE TWO KINDS OF THINKING [pp. 8-41 
 
 simpler than these," says Nietzsche. Lotze ("Logik," p. 552) expresses 
 himself in regard to this as follows: "Thought, left to the logical laws 
 of its movement, encounters once more at the end of its regularly 
 traversed course the things suppressed or hidden." 
 
 " Compare the remarks of Baldwin following in text. The eccentric 
 philosopher Johann Georg Hamann (1730-88) even places intelligence 
 and speech as identical (see Hamann's writings, pub. by Roth, 
 Berlin 1821). With Nietzsche intelligence fares even worse as "speech 
 metaphysics" (Sprachmetaphysik). Friedrich Mauthner goes the furthest 
 in this conception ("Sprache und Psychologic," 1901). For him there 
 exists absolutely no thought without speech, and speaking is thinking. 
 His idea of the " fetish of the word " governing in science is worthy of 
 notice. 
 
 * Compare Kleinpaul: "Das Leben der Sprache," 3 Bande. Leipzig 
 1893. 
 
 ^ " Jardin d'Epicure," p. 80. 
 
 * It is difficult to calculate how great is the seductive influence of the 
 primitive word-meaning upon a thought. " Anything which has even been 
 in consciousness remains as an affective moment in the unconscious," says 
 Hermann Paul ("Prinzipien der Sprachgeschichte," 4th ed., 1909, p. 
 25). The old word-meanings have an after-effect, chiefly imperceptible, 
 "within the dark chamber of the unconscious in the Soul " (Paul). J. G. 
 Hamann, mentioned above, expresses himself unequivocably : "Meta- 
 physics reduces all catchwords and all figures of speech of our empirical 
 knowledge to empty hieroglyphics and types of ideal relations." It is 
 said that Kant learned some things from Hamann. 
 
 * " Grundriss der Psychologic," p. 365. 
 ^^ " Lehrbuch der Psychologic," X, 26. 
 
 ** James Mark Baldwin : " Thought and Things, or Genetic Logic." 
 
 ^^ In this connection I must refer to an experiment which Eber- 
 schweilcr {Allgiemeine Zeitschrift fiir Psychiatrie, 1908) has made at my 
 request, which discloses the remarkable fact that in an association experi- 
 ment the intrapsychic association is influenced by phonetic considerations 
 (" Untersuchungen iiber den Einfluss der sprachlichen Komponente auf die 
 Assoziation," Allgemeine Zeitschrift fiir Psychiatrie, 1908). 
 
 ^' So at least this form of thought appears to Consciousness. Freud 
 says in this connection ("The Interpretation of Dreams," tr. by Brill, 
 p. 418) : "It is demonstrably incorrect to state that we abandon ourselves 
 to an aimless course of ideas when we relinquish our reflections, and 
 allow the unwilled ideas to emerge. It can be shown that we are able 
 to reject only those end-presentations known to us, and that immediately 
 upon the cessation of these unknown or, as we inaccurately say, uncon- 
 scious end-presentations come into play which now determine the course 
 of the unwilled ideas — a thought without end-presentation cannot be 
 produced through any influence we can exert on our own psychic life." 
 
 ^* " Grundriss der Psychologic," p. 464. 
 
 '" Behind this assertion stand, first of all, experiences taken from the 
 field of the normal. The undirected thinking is very far removed from 
 " meditation," and especially so as far as readiness of speech is con- 
 cerned. In psychological experiments I have frequently found that the I 
 
pp. 8-41] THE TWO KINDS OF THINKING 487 
 
 subjects of the investigation — I speak only of cultivated and intelligent 
 people, whom I have allowed to indulge in reveries, apparently unin- 
 tentionally and without previous instruction — have exhibited affect- 
 expressions which can be registered experimentally. But the basic 
 thought of these, even with the best of intentions, they could express only 
 incompletely or even not at all. One meets with an abundance of 
 similar experiences in association experiments and psychoanalysis — in- 
 deed, there is hardly an unconscious complex which has not at some time 
 existed as a phantasy in consciousness. 
 
 However, more instructive are the experiences from the domain of 
 psychopathology. But those arising in the field of the hysterias and 
 neuroses, which are characterized by an overwhelming transference 
 tendency, are rarer than the experiences in the territory of the intro- 
 version type of neuroses and psychoses, which constitute by far the 
 greater number of the mental derangements, at least the collected 
 Schizophrenic group of Bleuler. As has already been indicated by the 
 term " introversion," which I briefly introduced in my study, " Konflikte 
 der kindlichen Seele," pp. 6 and lo, these neuroses lead to an over- 
 powering autoerotism (Freud). And here we meet with this unuttera- 
 ble purely phantastic thinking, which moves in inexpressible symbols and 
 feelings. One gets a slight impression of this when one seeks to examine 
 the paltry and confused expressions of these people. As I have frequently 
 observed, it costs these patients endless trouble and effort to put their 
 phantasies into common human speech. A highly intelligent patient, 
 who interpreted such a phantasy piece by piece, often said to me, " I 
 know absolutely with what it is concerned, I see and feel everything, 
 but it is quite impossible for me to find the words to express it." The 
 poetic and religious introversion gives rise to similar experiences; for 
 example, Paul, in the Epistle to the Romans viii:26 — "For we know 
 not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh 
 intercession with groanings which cannot be uttered." 
 
 ** Similarly, James remarks, " The great difference, in fact, between 
 that simple kind of rational thinking which consists in the concrete 
 objects of past experience merely suggesting each other, and reason dis- 
 tinctively so called, is this, that whilst the empirical thinking is only 
 reproductive, reasoning is productive." 
 
 '' Compare the impressive description of Petrarch's ascent of Mt. 
 Ventoux, by Jacob Burckhardt (" Die Kultur der Renaissance in Italien," 
 1869, p. 235) : _ 
 
 " One now awaits a description of the view, but in vain, not because 
 the poet is indifferent to it, but, on the contrary, because the impression 
 affects him all too strongly. His entire past life, with all its follies, 
 passes before him; he recalls that it is ten years ago to-day that he, 
 as a young man, left Bologna, and he turns a yearning glance toward 
 Italy. He opens a book — ' Confessions of St. Augustine,' his companion 
 at that time — and his eye falls upon this passage in the tenth chapter: 
 ' and the people went there and admired the high mountains, the wide 
 wastes of the sea and the mighty downward rushing streams, and the 
 ocean and the courses of the stars, and forgot themselves.' His brother, 
 to whom he reads these words, cannot comprehend why, at this point, he 
 closes the book and is silent." 
 
 ^* Wundt gives a striking description of the scholastic method in his 
 " Philosophische Studien," XHI, p. 345. The method consists " first in 
 this, that one realizes the chief aim of scientific investigation is the 
 
488 THE TWO KINDS OF THINKING [pp. 8-41 
 
 discovery of a comprehensive scheme, firmly established, and capable of 
 being applied in a uniform manner to the most varied problems; sec- 
 ondly, in that one lays an excessive value upon certain general ideas, 
 and, consequently, upon the word-symbols designating these ideas, 
 wherefore an analysis of word-meanings comes, in extreme cases, to be 
 an empty subtlety and splitting of hairs, instead of an investigation of 
 the real facts from which the ideas are abstracted." 
 
 ^* The concluding passage in " Traumdeutung " was of prophetic sig- 
 nificance, and has been brilliantly established since then through investi- 
 gations of the psychoses. " In the psychoses these modes of operation 
 of the psychic mechanism, normally suppressed in the waking state, again 
 become operative, and then disclose their inability to satisfy our needs 
 in the outer world." The importance of this position is emphasized by 
 the views of Pierre Janet, developed independently of Freud, and which 
 deserve to be mentioned here, because they add confirmation from an 
 entirely different side, namely, the biological. Janet makes the distinc- 
 tion in this function of a firmly organized " inferior " and " superior " 
 part, conceived of as in a state of continuous transformation. 
 
 " It is really on this superior part of the functions, on their adaptation 
 to present circumstances, that the neuroses depend. The neuroses are 
 the disturbances or the checks in the evolution of the functions — the 
 illnesses depending upon the morbid functioning of the organism. These 
 are characterized by an alteration in the superior part of the functions, 
 in their evolution and in their adaptation to the present moment — to the 
 present state of the exterior world and of the individual, and also by the 
 absence or deterioration of the old parts of these same functions. 
 
 " In the place of these superior operations there are developed physical, 
 mental, and, above all, emotional disturbances. This is only the tendency 
 to replace the superior operations by an exaggeration of certain inferior 
 operations, and especially by gross visceral disturbances" ("Les 
 Nevroses," p. 383). 
 
 The old parts are, indeed, the inferior parts of the functions, and these 
 replace, in a purposeless fashion, the abortive attempts at adaptation. 
 Briefly speaking, the archaic replaces the recent function which has 
 failed. Similar views concerning the nature of neurotic symptoms are 
 expressed by Claparede as well (" Quelques mots sur la definition de 
 I'Hysterie," Arch, de Psychol., I, VII, p. 169). 
 
 He understands the hysterogenic mechanism as a "Tendance h. la 
 reversion " — as a sort of atavistic manner of reaction. 
 
 ^^ I am indebted to Dr. Abraham for the following interesting com- 
 munication: "A little girl of three and a half years had been presented 
 with a little brother, who became the object of the well-known childish 
 jealousy. Once she said to her mother, 'You are two mammas; you are 
 my mamma, and your breast is little brother's mamma.' She had just 
 been looking on with great interest at the process of nursing." It is very 
 characteristic of the archaic thinking of the child for the breast to be 
 designated as " mamma." 
 
 ^* Compare especially Freud's thorough investigation of the child in 
 his "Analyse der Phobie eines fiinfjahrigen Knaben," 1912 Jahrbuch, 
 Pt. I. Also my study, " Konflikte der kindlichen Seele," 1912 Jahrbuch, 
 Ft. II, p. 33- 
 
 °^ " Human, All Too Human," Vol. II, p. 27 and on. 
 
 ^^ " Sammlung kleiner Schriften zur Neuroseiilehre," Ft. II, p. 205. 
 
pp. 
 
 8-41] THE TWO KINDS OF THINKING 489 
 
 "' " Der Kiinstler, Ansatze zu einer Sexualpsychologie," 1907, p. 36. 
 
 " Compare also Rank's later book, " The Myth of the Birth of the 
 
 Hero." 
 
 ^° " Wish Fulfilment and Symbolism in Fairy Tales," 1908. 
 
 " " Dreams and Myths." 
 
 ^* Compare with this " Konflikte der kindlichen Seele," p. 6, foot. 
 
 ^' Compare Abraham, " Dreams and Myths." New York 1913. The 
 wish for the future is represented as already fulfilled in the past. 
 Later, the childish phantasy is again taken up regressively in order to 
 compensate for the disillusionment of actual life. 
 
 '"Rank: "The Myth of the Birth of the Hero." 
 
 "'^ Naturally, it could not be said that because this was an institution 
 in antiquity, the same would recur in our phantasy, but rather that in 
 antiquity it was possible for the phantasy so generally present to become 
 an institution. This may be concluded from the peculiar activity of the 
 mind of antiquity. 
 
 ^^ The Dioscuri married the Leucippides by theft, an act which, accord- 
 ing to the ideas of higher antiquity, belonged to the necessary customs 
 of marriage (Preller: " Griechische Mythologie," 1854, Pt. H, p. 68). 
 
 ^^ See S. Creuzer: " Symbolik und Mythologie," 181 1, Pt. HI, p. 245. 
 
 °^ Compare also the sodomitic phantasies in the " Metamorphoses " of 
 Apuleius. In Herculaneum, for example, corresponding sculptures have 
 been found. 
 
 ^"Ferrero: " Les lois psychologiques du symbolisme." 
 
 '* With the exception of the fact that the thoughts enter consciousness 
 already in a high state of complexity, as Wundt says. 
 
 "Schelling: "Philosophic der Mythologie," Werke, Pt. II, considers 
 the " preconscious " as the creative source, also H. Fichte (" Psychologie," 
 I, p. 508) considers the preconscious region as the place of origin of the 
 real content of dreams. 
 
 ^* Compare, in this connection, Flournoy: " Des Indes a la planete 
 Mars." Also Jung: " Zur_ Psychologie und Pathologie sogenannter ok- 
 kulter Phanomene," and " Uber die Psychologie der Dementia praecox." 
 Excellent examples are to be found in Schreber: " Denkwiirdigkeiten 
 eines Nervenkranken." Mutze, Leipzig. 
 
 ^' " Jardin d'Epicure." 
 
 *" The figure of Judas acquires a great psychological significance as 
 the priestly sacrificer of the Lamb of God, who, by this act, sacrifices 
 himself at the same time. (Self-destruction.) Compare Pt. II of this 
 work. 
 
 "Compare with this the statements of Drews ("The Christ Myth"), 
 which are so violently combated by the blindness of our time. Clear- 
 sighted theologians, like Kalthoff ("Entstehung des Christentums," 1904), 
 present as impersonal a judgment as Drews. Kalthoff says, "The 
 sources from which we derive our information concerning the origin of 
 Christianity are such that in the present state of historical research no 
 historian would undertake the task of writing the biography of an 
 
490 THE MILLER PHANTASIES [pp. 42-48 
 
 historical Jesus." Ibid., p. lo: "To see behind these stories the life of 
 a real historical personage, would not occur to any man, if it were not 
 for the influence of rationalistic theology." Ibid., p. 9: "The divine 
 in Christ, always considered an inner attribute and one with the human, 
 leads in a straight line backward from the scholarly man of God, through 
 the Epistles and Gospels of the New Testament, to the Apocalypse of 
 Daniel, in which the theological imprint of the figure of Christ has 
 arisen. At every single point of this line Christ shows superhuman 
 traits; nowhere is He that which critical theology wished to make Him, 
 simply a natural man, an historic individual." 
 
 *^ Compare J. Burckhardt's letter to Albert Brenner (pub. by Hans 
 Brenner in the Basle Jahrbuch, 1901): "I have absolutely nothing stored 
 away for the special interpretation of Faust. You are well provided 
 with commentaries of all sorts. Hark! let us at once take the whole 
 foolish pack back to the reading-room from whence they have come. 
 What you are destined to find in Faust, that you will find by intuition. 
 Faust is nothing else than pure and legitimate myth, a great primitive 
 conception, so to speak, in which everyone can divine in his own way 
 his own nature and destiny. Allow me to make a comparison: What 
 would the ancient Greeks have said had a commentator interposed him- 
 self between them and the Oedipus legend? There was a chord of the 
 Oedipus legend in every Greek which longed to be touched directly and 
 respond in its own way. And thus it is with the German nation and 
 Faust." 
 
 *' I will not conceal the fact that for a time I was in doubt whether 
 I dare venture to reveal through analysis the intimate personality which 
 the author, with a certain unselfish scientific interest, has exposed to 
 public view. Yet it seemed to me that the writer would possess an 
 understanding deeper than any objections of my critics. There is always 
 some risk when one exposes one's self to the world. The absence of 
 any personal relation with Miss Miller permits me free speech, and also 
 exempts me from those considerations due woman which are prejudicial 
 to conclusions. The person of the author is on that account just as 
 shadowy to me as are her phantasies; and, like Odysseus, I have tried 
 to let this phantom drink only enough blood to enable it to speak, and 
 in so doing betray some of the secrets of the inner life. 
 
 I have not undertaken this analysis, for which the author owes me but 
 little thanks, for the pleasure of revealing private and intimate matters, 
 with the accompanying embarrassment of publicity, but because I wished 
 to show the secret of the individual as one common to all. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 * A very beautiful example of this is found in C. A. Bernoulli: "Franz 
 Overbeck und Friedrich Nietzsche. Eine Freundschaft," 1908 (Pt. I, 
 p. 72). This author depicts Nietzsche's behavior in Basle society: "Once 
 at a dinner he said to the young lady at his side, ' I dreamed a short 
 time ago that the skin of my hand, which lay before me on the table, 
 suddenly became like glass, shiny and transparent, through which I saw 
 distinctly the bones and the tissues and the play of the muscles. All at 
 once I saw a toad sitting on my hand and at the same time I felt an 
 irresistible compulsion to swallow the beast. I overcame my terrible 
 aversion and gulped it down.' The young lady laughed. ' And do you 
 laugh at that?' Nietzsche asked, his deep eyes fixed on his companion, 
 
pp. 49-86] THE HYMN OF CREATION 491 
 
 half questioning, half sorrowful. The young lady knew intuitively that 
 she did not wholly understand that an oracle had spoken to her in the 
 form of an allegory and that Nietzsche had revealed to her a glimpse 
 into the dark abyss of his inner self." On page i66 Bernoulli con- 
 tinues as follows: "One can perhaps see, behind that harmless pleasure 
 of faultless exactness in dress, a dread of contamination arising from 
 some mysterious and tormenting disgust." 
 
 Nietzsche went to Basle when he was very young; he was then just 
 at the age when other young people are contemplating marriage. Seated 
 next to a young woman, he tells her that something terrible and dis- 
 gusting is taking place in his transparent hand, something which he 
 must take completely into his body. We know what illness caused the 
 premature ending of Nietzsche's life. It was precisely this which he 
 would tell the young lady, and her laughter was indeed discordant. 
 
 A whole series of psychoanalytic experiences could easily be pro- 
 duced here to illustrate this statement. 
 
 'Ferenczi: " Introjektion und Ubertragung," Jahrbuch, Pt. I (1912). 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 * The choice of words and comparisons is always significant. A 
 psychology of travels and the unconscious forces co-operating with them 
 is yet to be written. 
 
 * This mental disturbance had until recently the very unfortunate 
 designation. Dementia Praecox, given by Kraepelin. It is extremely un- 
 fortunate that this malady should have been discovered by the psychi- 
 atrists, for its apparently bad prognosis is due to this circumstance. 
 Dementia praecox is synonymous with therapeutic hopelessness. How 
 would hysteria appear if judged from the standpoint of psychiatry! 
 The psychiatrist naturally sees in the institutions only the worst cases 
 of dementia praecox, and as a consequence of his therapeutic helpless- 
 ness he must be a pessimist. How deplorable would tuberculosis appear 
 if the physician of an asylum for the incurable described the nosology 
 of this disease! Just as little as the chronic cases of hysteria, which 
 gradually degenerate in insane asylums, are characteristic of real 
 hysteria, just so little are the cases of dementia praecox in asylums 
 characteristic of those early forms so frequent in general practice, and 
 which Janet has described under the name of Psychasthenia. These 
 cases fall under Bleuler's description of Schizophrenia, a name which 
 connotes a psychological fact, and might easily be compared with 
 similar facts in hysteria. The term which I use in my private work 
 for these conditions is Introversion Neurosis, by which, in my opinion, 
 the most important characteristic of the condition is given, namely, the 
 predominance of introversion over transference, which latter is the 
 characteristic feature of hysteria. 
 
 In my " Psychology of Dementia Praecox " I have not made any study 
 of the relationship of the Psychasthenia of Janet. Subsequent experience 
 with Dementia Praecox, and particularly the study of Psychasthenia in 
 Paris, have demonstrated to me the essential relationship of Janet's 
 group with the Introversion Neuroses (the Schizophrenia of Bleuler). 
 
 ^ Compare the similar views in my article, " Uber die Psychologie der 
 Dementia praecox," Halle 1907; and " Inhalt der Psychose," Deuticke, 
 Wien 1908. Also Abraham: "Die psychosexuellen Differenzen der 
 
492 THE HYMN OF CREATION [pp. 49-86 
 
 Hysteric und der Dementia praecox," Zentralblatt fiir Ner'venheilktinde 
 und Psychiatrie, 1908. This author, in support of Freud, defines the 
 chief characteristic of dementia praecox as Autoerotism, which as I 
 have asserted is only one of the results of Introversion. 
 
 * Freud, to whom I am indebted for an essential part of this view, 
 dlso speaks of " Heilungsversuch," the attempt toward cure, the search 
 lor health. 
 
 * Miss Miller's publication gives no hint of any knowledge of psycho- 
 analysis. 
 
 ' Here I purposely give preference to the term " Imago " rather than 
 to the expression " Complex," in order, by the choice of terminology, to 
 invest this psychological condition, which I include under " Imago," 
 with living independence in the psychical hierarchy, that Is to say, 
 with that autonomy which, from a large experience, I have claimed 
 as the essential peculiarity of the emotional complex. (Compare "The 
 Psychology of Dementia Praecox.") My critics, Isserlin especially, have 
 seen in this view a return to medieval psychology, and they have, there- 
 fore, rejected it utterly. This "return" took place on my part con- 
 sciously and intentionally because the phantastic, projected psychology 
 of ancient and modern superstition, especially demonology, furnishes 
 exhaustive evidence for this point of view. Particularly interesting 
 insight and confirmation is given us by the insane Schreber in an auto- 
 biography (" DenkwiJrdigkeiten eines Nervenkranken," Mutze, Leipzig), 
 where he has given complete expression to the doctrine of autonomy. 
 
 "Imago" has a significance similar on the one hand to the psycho- 
 logically conceived creation in Spitteler's novel " Imago," and upon the 
 other hand to the ancient religious conception of " imagines et lares." 
 
 ' Compare my article, " Die Bedeutung des Vaters fiir das Schicksal 
 des Einzelnen." 
 
 * As is well known, Anaxagoras developed the conception that the 
 living primal power (Urpotenz) of vavq (mind) imparts movement, as 
 if by a blast of wind, to the dead primal power (Urpotenz) of matter. 
 There is naturally no mention of sound. This vovg, which is very 
 similar to the later conception of Philo, the Myoq anepjuaTtKog of the 
 Gnostics and the Pauline irvev/ua (spirit) as well as to the irvevfia of the 
 contemporary Christian theologians, has rather the old mythological 
 significance of the fructifying breath of the winds, which impregnated 
 the mares of Lusitania, and the Egyptian vultures. The animation of 
 Adam and the impregnation of the Mother of God by the nvuv/na are pro- 
 duced in a similar manner. The infantile incest phantasy of one of my 
 patients reads: "the father covered her face with his hands and blew 
 into her open mouth." 
 
 * Haydn's " Creation " might be meant. 
 
 " See Job xvi: i-ii. 
 
 ** I recall the case of a young insane girl who continually imagined 
 that her innocence was suspected, from which thought she would not 
 allow herself to be dissuaded. Gradually there developed out of her 
 defensive attitude a correspondingly energetic positive erotomania. 
 
 ^^ Compare the preceding footnote with the text of Miss Miller's. 
 
 *' The case is published in " Zur Psychologie und Pathologie 
 sogenannter okkulter Phanotnene." Mutze, Leipzig 1902. 
 
I 
 
 pp. 49-86] THE HYMN OF CREATION 493 
 
 ^^ Compare Freud's "Analyse der Phobie eines fiinfjahrigen Knaben," 
 Jahrbuch, Vol. I, ist half; also Jung: " Konflikte der kindlichen Seele," 
 Jahrbuch. II, Vol. I. 
 
 ^^ Others do not make use of this step, but are directly carried away 
 by Eros. 
 
 ^'' " La sagesse et la destinee." 
 
 *' This time I shall hardly be spared the reproach of mysticism. But 
 perhaps the facts should be further considered; doubtless the unconscious 
 contains material which does not rise to the threshold of consciousness. 
 The analysis dissolves these combinations into their historical deter- 
 minants, for it is one of the essential tasks of analysis to render impotent 
 by dissolution the content of the complexes competing with the proper 
 conduct of life. Psychoanalysis works backwards like the science of 
 history. Just as the largest part of the past is so far removed that it is 
 not reached by history, so too the greater part of the unconscious de- 
 terminants is unreachable. History, however, knows nothing of two 
 kinds of things, that which is hidden in the past and that which is 
 hidden in the future. Both perhaps might be attained with a certain 
 probability; the first as a postulate, the second as an historical prog- 
 nosis. In so far as to-morrow is already contained in to-day, and all 
 the threads of the future are in place, so a more profound knowledge 
 of the past might render possible a more or less far-reaching and certain 
 knowledge of the future. Let us transfer this reasoning, as Kant has 
 already done, to psychology. Then necessarily we must come to the 
 same result. Just as traces of memory long since fallen below the 
 threshold of consciousness are accessible in the unconscious, so too there 
 are certain very fine subliminal combinations of the future, which are 
 of the greatest significance for future happenings in so far as the future 
 is conditioned by our own psychology. But just so little as the science 
 of history concerns itself with the combinations for the future, which is 
 the function of politics, so little, also, are the psychological combinations 
 for the future the object of analysis; they would be much more the object 
 of an infinitely refined psychological synthesis, which attempts to follow 
 the natural current of the libido. This we cannot do, but possibly this 
 might happen in the unconscious, and it appears as if from time to time, 
 in certain cases, significant fragments of this process come to light, at 
 least in dreams. From this comes the prophetic significance of the dream 
 long claimed by superstition. 
 
 The aversion of the scientific man of to-day to this type of thinking, 
 hardly to be called phantastic, is merely an overcompensation to the very 
 ancient and all too great inclination of mankind to believe in prophesies 
 and superstitions. 
 
 *' Dreams seem to remain spontaneously in the memory just so long as 
 they give a correct resume of the psychologic situation of the individual. 
 
 *' How paltry are the intrinsic ensemble and the detail of the erotic 
 experience, is shown by this frequently varied love song which I quote 
 in its epirotic form: 
 
 Epirotic Love Song 
 {Zeitschrift des Ver eines fur Volkskunde, XII, p. 159.) 
 O Maiden, when we kissed, then it was night; who saw us? 
 A night Star saw us, and the moon, 
 And it leaned downward to the sea, and gave it the tidings, 
 
494 THE HYMN OF CREATION [pp. 49-86 
 
 Then the Sea told the rudder, the rudder told the sailor, 
 
 The sailor put it into song, then the neighbor heard it, 
 
 Then the priest heard it and told my mother, 
 
 From her the father heard it, he got in a burning anger. 
 
 They quarrelled with me and commanded me and they have forbidden me 
 
 Ever to go to the door, ever to go to the window. 
 
 And yet I will go to the window as if to my flowers, 
 
 And never will I rest till my beloved is mine. 
 
 ^'Jobxlitis (Leviathan). 
 
 "21. His breath kindleth coals, and a flame goeth out of his mouth. 
 " 22. In his neck remaineth strength, and sorrow is turned into joy 
 
 before him. 
 "24. His heart is as firm as a stone; yea, as hard as a piece of the 
 
 nether millstone. 
 "25. When he raiseth up himself, the mighty are afraid: by reason 
 
 of breakings they purify themselves. 
 " 33' Upon earth there is not his like who is made without fear. 
 "34. He beholdeth all high things: he is a king over all the children 
 
 of pride." 
 Chapter xlii. 
 " I. Then Job answered the Lord, and said, 
 
 " 2. I know that thou canst do everything, and that no thought can 
 be withholden from thee." 
 
 *^ The theriomorphic attributes are lacking in the Christian religion 
 except as remnants, such as the Dove, the Fish and the Lamb. The 
 latter is also represented as a Ram in the drawings in the Catacombs. 
 Here belong the animals associated with the Evangelists which particu- 
 larly need historical explanation. The Eagle and the Lion were definite 
 degrees of initiation in the Mithraic mysteries. The worshippers of 
 Dionysus called themselves ^oeg because the god was represented as a 
 bull; likewise the apuroi of Artemis, conceived of as a she-bear. 
 The Angel might correspond to the vh^Spofioi of the Mithras mysteries. 
 It is indeed an exquisite invention of the Christian phantasy that the 
 animal coupled with St. Anthony is the pig, for the good saint was one 
 of those who were subjected to the devil's most evil temptations. 
 
 ^^ Compare Pfister's notable article: "Die Frommigkeit des Graf en 
 Ludwig von Zinzendorf." Wien 1910. 
 
 ^' The Book of Job, originating at a later period under non-Jewish 
 influences, is a striking presentation of individual projection psychology. 
 
 ** " If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is 
 not in us " (I John i: 8). 
 
 '""Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows" (Isaiah 
 liii:4). 
 
 ^^ " Bear ye one another's burdens" (Galatians vi:2). 
 
 " God is Love, corresponding to the platonic " Eros " which unites 
 humanity with the transcendental. 
 
 ''^ Compare Reitzenstein ("Die hellenistischen Mysterienreligionen," 
 Leipzig and Berlin 1910, p. 20): "Among the various forms with which 
 a primitive people have represented the highest religious consecration, 
 union with God, belongs necessarily that of the sexual union, in which 
 man attributes to his semen the innermost nature and power of God. 
 
pp. 49-86] THE HYMN OF CREATION 495 
 
 That which was in the first instance wholly a sensual act becomes in 
 
 the most widely separated places, independently, a sacred act, in 
 
 which the god is represented by a human deputy or his symbol the 
 Phallus." 
 
 ^^ Take as an example among many others the striking psychologic de- 
 scription of the fate of Alypius, in the " Confessions " of St. Augustine 
 (Bk. VI, Ch. 7): "Only the moral iniquity of Carthage, expressed in the 
 absolute wildness of its worthless spectacles, had drawn him down into 
 the whirlpool of this misery. [Augustine, at that time a teacher of 
 Logic, through his wisdom had converted Alypius.] He rose up after 
 those words from the depths of the mire, into which he had willingly 
 let himself be submerged, and which had blinded him with fatal pleasure. 
 He stripped the filth from off his soul with courageous abstemiousness. 
 All the snares of the Hippodrome no longer perplexed him. Thereupon 
 Alypius went to Rome in order to study law; there he became a back- 
 slider. He was transported to an unbelievable degree by an unfortunate 
 passion for gladiatorial shows. Although in the beginning he abom- 
 inated and cursed these shows, one evening some of his friends and 
 fellow-students, whom he met after they had dined, in spite of his pas- 
 sionate refusals and the exertion of all the power of his resistance, 
 dragged him with friendly violence to the Amphitheatre on the occasion 
 of a cruel and murderous exhibition. At the time he said to them, ' If 
 you drag my body to that place and hold it there, can you turn my 
 mind and my eyes to that spectacle?' In spite of his supplications they 
 dragged him with them, eager to know if he would be able to resist the 
 spectacle. When they arrived they sat down where place was still left, 
 and all glowed with inhuman delight. He closed his eyes and forbade 
 his soul to expose itself to such danger. O, if he had also stopped up 
 his ears! When some one fell in combat and all the people set up 
 a mighty shout, he stifled his curiosity and prepared proudly to scorn 
 the sight, confident that he could view the spectacle if he so desired. 
 And his soul was overcome with terrible wounds, like the wounds of 
 the body which he desired to see, and souls more miserable than the one 
 whose fall had caused the outcry, which pressing through his ears, had 
 opened his eyes, so that his weakness had been bared. Through this he 
 could be struck and thrown down, for he had the feeling of confidence 
 more than strength, and he was the weaker because he trusted himself 
 to this and not to Thee. When he saw the blood, then at the same 
 time he drew in the desire for blood, and no longer turned away but 
 directed his looks thither. The fury took possession of him and yet he 
 did not know it; he took delight in the wicked combat and was intoxi- 
 cated by the bloody pleasure. Now he was no longer the sam*; as when 
 he had come, and he was the true accomplice of those who first had 
 dragged him there. What more is there to say? He saw, he cried out, 
 he was inflamed, and he carried away with him the insane longing, 
 which enticed him again to return, not only in the company of those who 
 first had dragged him with them, but going ahead of all and leading 
 others." 
 
 ^^ Compare the prayer of the so-called Mithraic Liturgy (pub. by 
 Dieterich^. There, characteristic places are to be found, such for in- 
 stance as : Tf/g avOpuTTivrj^ fiov TpvxinTjg dvvdfieug i/v eyu nakiv /j.eTaKapa?iT//irpo/iai 
 /lETo. T7jv ivearucav koI KaTETVEiyovaav fie niKpav avd}K?jv axpEOKonriTov (The 
 human soul force which I, weighed down by guilt, would again attain, 
 because of the present bitter need oppressing me). ETTLKalovfiai, eveKa t?;j 
 
496 THE HYMN OF CREATION [pp. 49-86 
 
 KaTEireiyovffT]^ koI niKpac (nvapai.rrjTov avdyKr^g (On account of the oppress- 
 ing bitter and inexorable need). 
 
 From the speech of the High Priest (Apuleius: "Metamorphoses," 
 lib. XI, 248) a similar train of thought may be gathered. The young 
 philosopher Lucius was changed into an ass, that continuously rutting 
 animal which Isis hated. Later he was released from the enchantment 
 and initiated into the mysteries of Isis. When he was freed from the 
 spell the priest speaks as follows: " Lubrico virentis aetatulae, ad serviles 
 delapsus voluptates, curiositatis improsperae sinistrum praemium re- 
 portasti. — Nam in eos, quorum sibi vitas servitium Deae nostrae ma- 
 jestas vindicavit, non habet locum casus infestus — in tutelam jam receptus 
 es Fortunae, sed videntis " (But falling into the slavery of pleasure, in 
 the wantonness of buxom youth, you have reaped the inauspicious reward 
 of your ill-fated curiosity — for direful calamity has no power over those 
 whose lives the majesty of our Goddess has claimed for her own 
 service. — You are now received under the guardianship of fortune, but 
 of a fortune who can see). In the prayer to the Queen of Heaven, Isis, 
 Lucius says: "Qua fatorum etiam inextricabiliter contorta retractas licia 
 et Fortunae tempestates mitigas, et stellarum noxios meatus cohibes " 
 (By which thou dost unravel the inextricably entangled threads of the 
 fates, and dost assuage the tempests of fortune and restrain the malig- 
 nant influences of the stars). — Generally it was the purpose of the rite 
 to destroy the " evil compulsion of the star " by magic power. 
 
 The power of fate makes itself felt unpleasantly only when everything 
 goes against our will; that is to say when we no longer find ourselves 
 in harmony with ourselves. As I endeavored to show in my article, 
 " Die Bedeutung des Vaters," etc., the most dangerous power of fate lies 
 in the infantile libido fixation, localized in the unconscious. The power 
 of fate reveals itself at closer range as a compulsion of the libido; 
 wherefore Maeterlinck justly says that a Socrates could not possibly be 
 a tragic hero of the type of Hamlet. In accordance with this conception 
 the ancients had already placed el/^ap/nevTf (destiny) in relation to "Primal 
 Light," or "Primal Fire." In the Stoic conception of the primal cause, 
 the Vi^armth spread everywhere, which has created everything and which 
 is therefore Destiny. (Compare Cumont: " Mysterien des Mithra," p. 
 83.) This warmth is, as will later be shown, a symbol of the libido. 
 Another conception of the Ananke (necessity) is, according to the Book 
 of Zoroaster, Trept (pvaeug (concerning nature), that the air as wind had 
 once a connection with fertility. I am indebted to Rev. Dr. Keller of 
 Zurich for calling my attention to Bergson's conception of the " duree 
 creatrice." 
 
 ^^ Schiller says in " Wallenstein ": "In your breast lie the constella- 
 tions of your fate." " Our fates are the result of our personality," says 
 Emerson in his " Essays." Compare with this my remarks in " Die 
 Bedeutung des Vaters." 
 
 "' The ascent to the " Idea " is described with unusual beauty in 
 Augustine (Bk. X, Ch. 8). The beginning of Ch. 8 reads: "I will raise 
 myself over this force of my nature, step by step ascending to Him who 
 has made me. I will come to the fields and the spacious palaces of ray 
 memory." 
 
 ^^ The followers of Mithra also called themselves Brothers. In 
 philosophical speech Mithra was Logos emanating from God. (Cumont: 
 " Myst. des Mithra," p. 102.) 
 
 Besides the followers of Mithra there existed many Brotherhoods^ 
 
pp. 49-86] THE HYMN OF CREATION 497 
 
 which were called Thiasai and probably were the organizations from 
 which the Church developed later. (A. Kalthoff: "Die Entstehung des 
 Christentums.") 
 
 '* Augustine, who stood in close relation to that period of transition not 
 only in point of time but also intellectually, writes in his "Confessions" 
 (Bk. VI, Ch. i6): 
 
 " Nor did I, unhappy, consider from what source it sprung, that even 
 on these things, foul as they were, I with pleasure discoursed with my 
 carnal pleasures. And yet these friends I loved for themselves only, and 
 friends; nor could I, even according to the notions I then had of 
 happiness, be happy without friends, amid what abundance soever of 
 I felt that I was beloved of them for myself only. O, crooked paths! 
 Woe to the audacious soul, which hoped, by forsaking Thee, to gain 
 some better thing! Turned it hath, and turned again, upon back, sides, 
 and belly, yet all was painful, and Thou alone rest!" (Trans, by 
 Pusey.) 
 
 It is not only an unpsychologic but also an unscientific method of 
 procedure to characterize offhand such effects of religion as suggestion. 
 Such things are to be taken seriously as the expression of the deepest 
 psychologic need. 
 
 '" Both religions teach a pronounced ascetic morality, but at the same 
 time a morality of action. The last is true also of Mithracism. Cumont 
 says that Mithracism owed its success to the value of its morale: "This 
 stimulated to action in an extraordinary degree" ("Myst. des Mithra"). 
 The followers of Mithra formed a "sacred legion" for battle against 
 evil, and among them were virgins (nuns) and continents (ascetics). 
 Whether these brotherhoods had another meaning — that is, an economic- 
 communistic one — is something I will not discuss now. Here only the 
 religious-psychologic aspects interest us. Both religions have in common 
 the idea of the divine sacrifice. Just as Christ sacrificed himself as the 
 Lamb of God, so did Mithra sacrifice his Bull. This sacrifice in both 
 religions is the heart of the Mysteries. The sacrificial death of Christ 
 means the salvation of the world; from the sacrifice of the bull of 
 Mithra the entire creation springs. 
 
 '" This analytic perception of the roots of the Mystery Religions is 
 necessarily one-sided, just as is the analysis of the basis of the religious 
 poem. In order to understand the actual causes of the repression in 
 Miss Miller one must delve into the moral history of the present; just 
 as one is obliged to seek in the ancient moral and economic history the 
 actual causes of repression which have given rise to the Mystery cults. 
 This investigation has been brilliantly carried out by Kalthoff. (See 
 his book, "Die Entstehung des Christentums," Leipzig 1904.) I also 
 refer especially to Pohlmann's " Geschichte des antiken Kommunismus 
 und Sozialismus " ; also to Biicher: "Die Aufstande der unfreien Arbeiter 
 143 bis 129 v. Chr.," 1874. 
 
 The other cause of the enormous introversion of the libido in antiquity 
 is probably to be found in the fact that an unbelievably large part of 
 the people suflfered in the wretched state of slavery. It is inevitable that 
 finally those who bask in good fortune would be infected in the mys- 
 terious manner of the unconscious, by the deep sorrow and still deeper 
 misery of their brothers, through which some were driven into orgiastic 
 furies. Others, however, the better ones, sank into that strange world- 
 weariness and satiety of the intellectuals of that time. Thus from two 
 sources the great introversion was made possible. 
 
498 THE SONG OF THE MOTH [pp. 87-126 
 
 "'Compare Freud: "The Interpretation of the Dream." 
 
 ** Compare Freud: "Sublimation," in "Three Contributions to the 
 Sexual Theory." 
 
 ^' In a manner which is closely related to my thought, Kalthoff 
 ("Entstehung des Christentums ") understands the secularizing of the 
 religious interest as a new incarnation of the /^<^>of (word). He says: 
 " The profound grasp of the soul of nature evidenced in modern painting 
 and poetry, the living intuitive feeling which even science in its most 
 austere works can no longer do without, enables us easily to understand 
 how the Logos of Greek philosophy which assigned its place in the world 
 to the old Christ type, clothed in its world-to-come significance cele- 
 brated a new incarnation." 
 
 '*" It seems, on account of the isolation of the cult, that this fact was 
 the cause of its ruin as well, because the eyes of that time were blinded 
 to the beauty of nature. Augustine (Bk. X, Ch. 6) very justly remarks: 
 " But they [men] were themselves undone through love for her [crea- 
 tion]." 
 
 *^ Augustine (ibid.) : "But what do I love when I love Thee, Oh God? 
 Not the bodily form, nor the earthly sweetness, nor the splendor of the 
 light, so dear to these eyes; nor the sweet melodies of the richly varied 
 songs; not the flowers and the sweet scented ointments and spices of 
 lovely fragrance; not manna and honey; not the limbs of the body 
 whose embraces are pleasant to the flesh. I do not love these when I 
 love my God, and yet the light, the voice, the fragrance, the food, the 
 embrace of my inner man ; when these shine into my soul, which no 
 space contains, which no time takes away, where there is a fragrance 
 which the wind does not blow away, where there is a taste which no 
 gluttony diminishes and where harmony abides which no satiety can 
 remove — that is what I love, when I love my God." (Perhaps a model 
 for Zarathustra: "Die sieben Siegel," Nietzsche's works, VI, p. 33 If.) 
 
 *^Cumont: "Die Mysterien des Mithra. Ein Beitrag zur Religions- 
 geschichte der romischen Kaiserzeit." Ubersetzt von Gehrich, Leipzig 
 1903, p. 109. 
 
 ^*4ist Letter to Lucilius. 
 " Ibid. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 * Complexes are apt to be of the greatest stability, although their 
 outward forms of manifestation change kaleidoscopically. A large 
 number of experimental studies have entirely convinced me of this fact. 
 
 ^ Julian the Apostate made the last, unsuccessful attempt to cause the 
 triumph of Mithracism over Christianity. 
 
 ' This solution of the libido problem was brought about in a similar 
 manner by the flight from the world during the first Christian century. 
 (The cities of the Anchorites in the deserts of the Orient.) People 
 mortified themselves in order to become spiritual and thus escape the 
 extreme brutality of the decadent Roman civilization. Asceticism is 
 forced sublimation, and is always to be found where the animal impulses 
 are still so strong that they must be violently exterminated. The masked 
 self-murder of the ascetic needs no further biologic proof. 
 
pp. 87-126] THE SONG OF THE MOTH 499 
 
 Chamberlain ("Foundations of the Nineteenth Century") sees in the 
 problem a biologic suicide because of the enormous amount of illegitimacy 
 among Mediterranean peoples at that time. I believe that illegitimacy 
 tends rather to mediocrity and to living for pleasure. It appears after 
 all that there were, at that time, fine and noble people who, disgusted 
 with the frightful chaos of that period which was merely an expression 
 of the disruption of the individual, put an end to their lives, and thus 
 caused the death of the old civilization with its endless wickedness. 
 
 * i^'iKT] (Justice), daughter of Zeus and Themis, who, after the Golden 
 Age, forsook the degenerate earth. 
 
 'Thanks to this eclogue, Virgil later attained the honor of being a 
 semi-Christian poet. To this he owes his position as guide to Dante. 
 
 * Both are represented not only as Christian, but also as Pagan. Es- 
 sener and Therapeuten were quasi orders of the Anchorites living in 
 the desert. Probably, as, for instance, may be learned from Apuleius 
 ("Metamorphoses," lib. XI), there existed small settlements of mystics 
 or consecrated ones around the sacred shrines of Isis and Mithra. 
 Sexual abstinence and celibacy were also known. 
 
 ' " Below the hills, a marshy plain 
 
 Infects what I so long have been retrieving: 
 This stagnant pool likewise to drain 
 Were now my latest and my best achieving. 
 To many millions following let me furnish soil." 
 The analogy of this expression with the quotation above is striking. 
 
 * Compare Breuer and Freud: " Studien iiber Hysterie"; also Bleuler: 
 " Die Psychoanalyse Freuds," Jahrbuch, 1910, Vol. II, 2nd half. 
 
 'Faust (in suicide monologue): 
 
 "Out on the open ocean speeds my dreaming! 
 The glassy flood before my feet is gleaming! 
 \ A new day beckons to a newer shore I 
 
 A fiery chariot, borne on buoyant pinions. 
 Sweeps near me now; I soon shall ready be 
 To pierce the ether's high, unknown dominions, 
 To reach new spheres of pure activity! 
 This godlike rapture, this supreme existence 
 Do I, but now a worm, deserve to track? 
 Yes, resolute to reach some brighter distance; 
 On Earth's fair sun I turn my back! 
 
 Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil, 
 Upon its tract to follow, follow soaring! 
 Then would I see eternal Evening gild 
 The silent world beneath me glowing. 
 
 P 
 
 And now before mine eyes expands the ocean. 
 With all its bays in shining sleep! 
 
 The newborn impulse fires my mind, 
 I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking." 
 We see it is the same longing and the same sun. 
 
500 THE SONG OF THE MOTH [pp. 87-126 
 
 ^"Compare Jung: " Diagnost. Assoc. Stud."; also "The Psychology of 
 Dementia Praecox," Chs. II and III. 
 
 ^^ According to the Christian conception God is Love. 
 
 ^^ Apuleius ("Met.," lib. XI, 257) : "At manu dextera gerebam flammis 
 adultam facem: et caput decora corona cinxerat palmae candidae foliis 
 in modum radiorum prosistentibus. Sic ad instar solis exornato et in vicem 
 simulacri constituto " (Then in my right hand I carried a burning torch; 
 while a graceful chaplet encircled my head, the shining leaves of the 
 palm tree projecting from it like rays of light. Thus arrayed like the 
 sun, and placed so as to resemble a statue). 
 
 ^^ The parallel in the Christian mysteries is the crowning with the 
 crown of thorns, the exhibition and mocking of the Savior. 
 
 "In the same way the Sassanian Kings called themselves "Brothers 
 of the Sun and of the Moon." In Egypt the soul of every ruler was a 
 reduplication of the Sun Horus, an incarnation of the sun. 
 
 ^^ " The rising at day out of the Underworld." Erman: " Aegypten," 
 p. 409. 
 
 ** Compare the coronation above. Feather, a symbol of power. 
 Feather crown, a crown of rays, halo. Crowning, as such, is an identi- 
 fication with the sun. For example, the spiked crown upon the Roman 
 coins made its appearance at the time when the Caesars were identified 
 with Sol invictus ("Solis invicti comes"). The halo is the same, that 
 is to say, an image of the sun, just as is the tonsure. The priests of Isis 
 had smooth-shaven heads like stars. (See Apuleius, "Metamorphoses.") 
 
 ^' Compare with this my statements in " Uber die Bedeutung des Vaters 
 fiir das Schicksal des Einzelnen." Deuticke, Wien. 
 
 ** In the text of the so-called Mithra Liturgy are these lines: '"Eyw 
 ftjU« ffii/ZTT/lavof vfuv aa-fjp Koi Ik tov ^aQovq avaTld/nrcjv — rnvra aov e'lTruvTog evBiu^ 
 6 SioKoc dn?iuSf/aeTaf." (I am a star wandering about with you and flam- 
 ing up from the depths. When thou hast said this, immediately the disc 
 of the sun will unfold). The mystic through his prayers implored the 
 divine power to cause the disc of the sun to expand. In the same way 
 Rostand's " Chantecler " causes the sun to rise by his crowing. 
 
 " For verily I say unto you. If ye have faith as a grain of mustard 
 seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; 
 and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you" (Mat- 
 thew xvii:2o). 
 
 ^* Compare especially the words of the Gospel of John: "I and my 
 Father are one" (John x:3o). "He that hath seen me hath seen the 
 Father" (John xiv:9). "Believe me that I am in the Father, and the 
 Father in me" (John xiv:ii). "I came forth from the Father, and 
 am come into the world; again, I leave the world, and go to the Father" 
 (John xvi:28). "I ascend unto my Father, and your Father; and to 
 my God, and your God" (John xx:i7). 
 
 ^^ See the footnote on p. 137 of text. 
 
 '* Two-bodied: an obscure epithet, if one does not admit that the dual 
 life of the redeemed, taught in the mysteries of that time, was attributed 
 to God, that is to say, to the libido. Compare the Pauline conception 
 of the au/xa aapKiK6v and nvevfiariKdv (carnal and spiritual body). In 
 the Mithraic worship, Mithra seems to be the divine spirit, while Helios 
 
pp. 87-126] THE SONG OF THE MOTH 501 
 
 is the material god; to a certain extent the visible lieutenant of the 
 divinity. Concerning the confusion between Christ and Sol, see below. 
 
 "Compare Freud: "Three Contributions to the Sexual Theory." 
 
 ^^ Renan ("Dialogues et fragments philosophiques," p. i68) says: 
 "Before religion had reached the stage of proclaiming that God must 
 be put into the absolute and ideal, that is to say, beyond this world, one 
 worship alone was reasonable and scientific: that was the worship of 
 the sun." 
 
 ^*Buber: " Ekstat. Konfess.," p. 51 and on. 
 
 " " Liebesgesange an Gott," cited by Buber: "Ekstat. Konfess.," 
 p. 40. An allied symbolism is found in Carlyle: "The great fact of exist- 
 ence is great to him. Fly as he will, he can not get out of the awful 
 presence of this reality. His mind is so made; he is great by that first 
 of all. Fearful and wonderful, real is life, real is death, is this 
 universe to him. Though all men should forget its truth, and walk in 
 a vain show, he can not. At all moments the Flame-image glares in 
 upon him" ("Heroes and Hero-Worship "). 
 
 One can select from literature at random. For example, S. Friedlander 
 (Berlin-Halensee) says in Jugend, 1910, No. 35, p. 823: "Her longing 
 demands from the beloved only the purest. Like the sun, it burns to 
 ashes with the flame of excessive life, which refuses to be light," and 
 so on. 
 
 "Buber: Ibid., p. 45. 
 
 " I emphasize this passage because its idea contains the psychological 
 root of the "Wandering of the soul in Heaven," the conception of which 
 is very ancient. It is a conception of the wandering sun which from 
 its rising to its setting wanders over the world. The wandering gods 
 are representations of the sun, that is, symbols of the libido. This 
 comparison is indelibly impressed in the human phantasy as is shown by 
 the poem of Wesendonck: 
 
 Grief. 
 
 The sun, every evening weeping, 
 
 Reddens its beautiful eyes for you; 
 
 When early death seizes you. 
 
 Bathing in the mirror of the sea. , 
 
 Still in its old splendor 
 
 The glory rises from the dark world; 
 
 You awaken anew in the morning 
 
 Like a proud conqueror. 
 
 Ah, why then should I lament. 
 
 When my heart, so heavy, sees you? 
 
 Must the sun itself despair? 
 
 Must the sun set? 
 
 And does death alone bear life? 
 
 Do griefs alone give joys? 
 
 O, how grateful I am that 
 
 Such pains have given me nature! 
 Another parallel is in the poem of Ricarda Huch: 
 As the earth, separating from the sun. 
 Withdraws in quick flight into the stormy night, 
 
502 THE SONG OF THE MOTH [pp. 87-126 
 
 Starring the naked body with cold snow, 
 Deafened, it takes away the summer joy. 
 And sinking deeper in the shadows of winter, 
 Suddenly draws close to that which it flees, 
 Sees itself warmly embraced with rosy light 
 Leaning against the lost consort. 
 Thus I went, suffering the punishment of exile. 
 Away from your countenance, into the ancient place. 
 Unprotected, turning to the desolate north, 
 Always retreating deeper into the sleep of death; 
 And then would I awake on your heart. 
 Blinded by the splendor of the dawn. 
 
 ** The whistling and snapping is a tasteless, archaic relic, an allure- 
 ment for the theriomorphic divinity, probably also an infantile rem- 
 iniscence (quieting the child by whistling and snapping). Of similar 
 significance is the roaring at the divinity. ("Mithr. Lit.," p. 13): "You 
 are to look at him and give forth a long roar, as with a horn, using all 
 your breath, pressing your sides, and kiss the amulet . . . etc." " My 
 soul roars with the voice of a hungry lion," says Mechthild von Magde- 
 burg. " As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul 
 after God." — Psalms xlii:2. The ceremonial custom, as so often happens, 
 has dwindled into a figure of speech. Dementia praecox, however, 
 revivifies the old custom, as in the " Roaring miracle " of Schreber. See 
 the latter's " Denkwiirdigkeiten eines Nervenkranken," by which he de- 
 mands that God, i.e. the Father, so inadequately oriented with humanity, 
 take notice of his existence. 
 
 The infantile reminiscence is clear, that is, the childish cry to attract 
 the attention of the parent to himself; the whistling and smacking for the 
 allurement of the theriomorphic attribute, the "helpful animal." (See 
 Rank: "The Myth of the Birth of the Hero.") 
 
 " The water-god Sobk, appearing as a crocodile, was identified with 
 Re. 
 
 "Erman: "Aegypten," p. 354. 
 
 '^Erman: Ibid., p. 355. 
 
 " Compare above aarepag nevTa6aKTvliaiovg (" five-fingered stars "). 
 
 ^^ The bull Apis is a manifestation of Ptah. The bull is a well-known 
 symbol of the sun. 
 
 '* Amon. 
 
 " Sobk of Faijum. 
 
 '' The God of Dedu in the Delta, who was worshipped as a piece of 
 wood. (Phallic.) 
 
 ^' This reformation, which was inaugurated with much fanaticism, 
 soon broke down. 
 
 '^Apuleius, "Met.," lib. XI, p. 239. 
 
 '" It is noteworthy that the humanists too (I am thinking of an expres- 
 sion of the learned Mutianus Rufus) soon perceived that antiquity had 
 but two gods, that is, a masculine god and a feminine god. 
 
 *" Not only was the light- or fire-substance ascribed to the divinity 
 but also to the soul; as for example in the system of Mani, as well as 
 
f 
 
 pp. 87-126] THE SONG OF THE MOTH 503 
 
 among the Greeks, where it was characterized as a fiery breath of air. 
 The Holy Ghost of the New Testament appears in the form of flames 
 around the heads of the Apostles, because the TTvevfia was under- 
 stood to mean "fiery" (Dieterich: Ibid., p. ii6). Very similar is the 
 Iranian conception of Hvareno, by which is meant the " Grace of 
 Heaven" through which a monarch rules. By "Grace" is understood 
 a sort of fire or shining glory, something very substantial (Cumont: 
 Ibid., p. 70). We come across conceptions allied in character in Kerner's 
 " Seherin von Prevorst," and in the case published by me, " Psychologic 
 und Pathologic sogenannter occulter Phanomene." Here not only the 
 souls consist of a spiritual light-substance, but the entire world is con- 
 structed according to the white-black system of the Manichaeans — and 
 this by a fifteen-year-old girl! The intellectual over-accomplishment 
 which I observed earlier in this creation, is now revealed as a con- 
 sequence of energetic introversion, which again roots up deep historical 
 strata of the soul and in which I perceive a regression to the memories 
 of humanity condensed in the unconscious. 
 
 ■** I add to this a quotation from Firmicus Maternus (Mathes. I, 5, 9, 
 cit. by Cumont: " Textes et Monuments," I, p. 40): " Cui (animo) 
 descensus per orbem solis tribuitur " (To this spirit the descent through 
 the orb of the sun is attributed). 
 
 '*'' St. Hieronymus remarks, concerning Mithra who was born in a 
 miraculous manner from a rock, that this birth was the result of " solo 
 aestu libidinis " (merely through the heat of the libido) (Cumont: 
 "Textes et Monuments," I, p. 163). 
 
 ■"Mead: "A Mithraic Ritual." London 1907, p. 22. 
 
 ** I am indebted to my friend and co-worker. Dr. Riklin, for the 
 knowledge of the following case which presents an interesting symbolism. 
 It concerns a paranoic who passed over into a manifest megalomaniac 
 in the following way: She suddenly saw a strong light, a ivind bleiv upon 
 her, she felt as if " her heart turned over," and from that moment she 
 knew that God had visited her and was in her. 
 
 I wish to refer here to the interesting correlation of mythological and 
 pathological forms disclosed in the analytical investigation of Dr. S. 
 Spielrein, and expressly emphasize that she has discovered the sym- 
 bolisms presented by her in the Jahrbuch, through independent experi- 
 mental work, in no way connected with my work. 
 
 ^^ According to the Chaldean teaching the sun occupies the middle 
 place in the choir of the seven planets. 
 
 *^ The Great Bear consists of seven stars. 
 
 *' Mithra is frequently represented with a knife in one hand and a 
 torch in the other. The knife as an instrument of sacrifice plays an 
 important role in his myth. 
 
 '' Ibid. 
 
 ** Compare with this the scarlet mantle of Helios in the Mithra liturgy. 
 It was a part of the rites of the various cults to be dressed in the bloody 
 skins of the sacrificial animals, as in the Lupercalia, Dionysia and 
 Saturnalia, the last of which has bequeathed to us the Carnival, the 
 typical figure of which, in Rome, was the priapic Pulcinella. 
 
504 THE SONG OF THE MOTH [pp. 87-126 
 
 *" Compare the linen-clad retinue of Helios. Also the bull-headed gods 
 wear white nepil^uftara (aprons). 
 
 "The title of Mithra in Vendidad XIX, 28; cit. by Cumont: " Textes 
 et Monuments," p. 37. 
 
 *' The development of the sun symbol in Faust does not go as far as 
 an anthropomorphic vision. It stops in the suicide scene at the chariot 
 of Helios ("A fiery chariot borne on buoyant pinions sweeps near me 
 now"). The fiery chariot comes to receive the dying or departing hero, 
 as in the ascension of Elijah or of Mithra. (Similarly Francis of 
 Assisi.) In his flight Faust passes over the sea, just as does Mithra. 
 The ancient Christian pictorial representations of the ascension of 
 Elijah are partly founded upon the corresponding Mithraic representa- 
 tions. The horses of the sun-chariot rushing upwards to Heaven leave 
 the solid earth behind, and pursue their course over a water god, Oceanus, 
 lying at their feet. (Cumont: "Textes et Monuments." Bruxelles 1899, 
 I, p. 178.) 
 
 *^ Compare my article, " Psych, und Path. sog. occ. Phan." 
 
 "* Quoted from Pitra: " Analecta sacra," cit. by Cumont: "Textes et 
 Monuments," p. 355. 
 
 "Cited from Usener: " Weihnachtsfest," p. 5. 
 
 ** The passage from Malachi is found in chap, iv, 2: "But unto you 
 that fear my name shall the Sun of Righteousness arise with healing in 
 His wings" (feathers). This figure of speech recalls the Egyptian sun 
 symbol. 
 
 *' Cumont: "Textes et Monuments," t. I, p. 355. nepl acTpovdfiuv. 
 
 '^ The pictures in the Catacombs contain much symbolism of the sun. 
 The Swastika cross, for example — a well-known image of the sun, wheel 
 of the sun, or sun's feet — is found upon the garment of Fossor Diogenes 
 in the cemetery of Peter and Marcellinus. The symbols of the rising sun, 
 the bull and the ram, are found in the Orpheus fresco of the cemetery 
 of the holy Domitilla. Similarly the ram and the peacock (which, like 
 the phoenix, is the symbol of the sun) is found upon an epitaph of the 
 Callistus Catacomb. 
 
 °* Compare the countless examples in Gorres: "Die christliche 
 Mystik." 
 
 *" Compare Leblant: " Sarcophages de la Gaule," 1880. In the "Homi- 
 lies" of Clement of Rome ("Hom.," II, 23, cit. by Cumont) it is said: 
 H(J Kvp!(f} yeyovdaiv 6i)deKa andaro^oi tuv tov ifkiov 6u6eKa /iTjvfjv <pepovTEq 
 rbv apiBfidv (The twelve apostles of the Lord, having the number of 
 the twelve months of the sun). As is apparent, this idea is concerned 
 with the course of the sun through the Zodiac. Without wishing to enter 
 upon an interpretation of the Zodiac, I mention that, according to the 
 ancient view (probably Chaldean), the course of the sun was represented 
 by a snake which carried the signs of the Zodiac on its back (similarly 
 to the Leontocephalic God of the Mithra mysteries). This view is proven 
 by a passage from a Vatican Codex edited by Cumont in another con- 
 nection (190, saec. XIII, p. 229, p. 85): "t6te 6 Travcocpoq irifitovpyb^ oKpu 
 VEVfiari 'cKlvrjae tov fiiyav SpaKovra avv t(J KEKoajirifitvu aT£<pdv(f), TiEyu dr; to. 1^' C,ij- 
 6ia, ^aardl^ovTa inl tov vutov avrov" (The all-wise maker of the world 
 set in motion the great dragon with the adorned crown, with a command 
 
pp. 87-126] THE SONG OF THE MOTH 505 
 
 at the end. I speak now of the twelve images borne on the back of 
 this). 
 
 This inner connection of the ^ojSia (small images) with the zodiacal 
 snake is worthy of notice and gives food for thought. The Manichaean 
 system attributes to Christ the symbol of the snake, and indeed of the 
 snake on the tree of Paradise. For this the quotation from John gives 
 far-reaching justification (John iii:i4): "And as Moses lifted up the 
 serpent in the wilderness, even so must the son of man be lifted up." 
 An old theologian, Hauff ("Biblische Real- und Verbalkonkordanz," 
 1834), makes this careful observation concerning this quotation: "Christ 
 considered the Old Testament story an unintentional symbol of the idea 
 of the atonement." The almost bodily connection of the followers with 
 Christ is well known. (Romans xii:4) : "For as we have many members 
 in one body, and all members have not the same office, so we being 
 many are one body in Christ, and every one members one of another." 
 If confirmation is needed that the zodiacal signs are symbols of the libido, 
 then the sentence in John i'.zg, "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh 
 away the sin of the world," assumes a significant meaning. 
 
 '^According to an eleventh-century manuscript in Munich; Albrecht 
 Wirth: " Aus orientalischen Chroniken," p. 151. Frankfurt 1894. 
 
 ""Abeghian: " Der armenische Volksglaube," p. 41, 1899. 
 
 *^ Compare Aigremont: "Fuss- und Schuhsymbolik," Leipzig 1909. 
 
 ** Attis was later assimilated with Mithra. Like Mithra he was 
 represented with the Phrygian cap (Cumont: " Myst. des Mith.," p. 65). 
 According to the testimony of Hieronymus, the manger (Geburtshohle) 
 at Bethlehem was originally a sanctuary (Spelaeum) of Attis (Usener: 
 " Weihnachtsfest," p. 283). 
 
 '"Cumont ("Die Mysterien des Mithra," p. 4) says of Christianity 
 and Mithracism: "Both opponents perceived with astonishment how 
 similar they were in many respects, without being able to account for the 
 causes of this similarity." 
 
 *° Our present-day moral views come into conflict with this wish in so 
 far as it concerns the erotic fate. The erotic adventures necessary for 
 so many people are often all too easily given up because of moral 
 opposition, and one willingly allows himself to be discouraged because 
 of the social advantages of being moral. 
 
 " The poetical works of Lord Byron. 
 
 *' Edmond Rostand: "Cyrano de Bergerac," Paris 1898. 
 
 "The projection into the "cosmic" is the primitive privilege of the 
 libido, for it enters into our perception naturally through all the avenues 
 of the senses, apparently from without, and in the form of pain and 
 pleasure connected with the objects. This we attribute to the object 
 without further thought, and we are inclined, in spite of our philosophic 
 considerations, to seek the causes in the object, which often has very 
 little concern with it. (Compare this with the Freudian conception of 
 Transference, especially Firenczi's remarks in his paper, " Introjektion 
 und Ubertragung," Jahrbuch, Vol. I, p. 422.) Beautiful examples 
 of direct libido projection are found in erotic songs: 
 
 " Down on the strand, down on the shore, 
 A maiden washed the kerchief of her lover; 
 And a soft west wind came blowiiig over the shore, 
 
5o6 THE SONG OF THE MOTH [pp. 87-126 
 
 Lifted her skirt a little with its breeze 
 
 And let a little of her ankles be seen, 
 
 And the seashore became as bright as all the world." 
 
 (Neo-Grecian Folksong from Sanders: "Das Volks- 
 leben der Neugriechen," 1844, p. 81, cit. Zeit- 
 scnft des Vere'vs *ur Volkskunde, Jahrgang XII, 
 1902, p. i66.) 
 
 " In the farm of Gymir I saw 
 A lovely maiden coming toward me; 
 From the brilliance of her arm glowed 
 The sky and all the everlasting sea." 
 
 (From the Edda, tr. (into Ger.) by H. Gering, p. 
 53; Zeitschrift fur Volkskunde, Jahrgang XII, 1902, 
 p. 167.) 
 
 Here, too, belong all the miraculous stories of cosmic events, phenomena 
 occurring at the birth and death of heroes. (The Star of Bethlehem; 
 earthquakes, the rending asunder of the temple hangings, etc., at the 
 death of Christ.) The omnipotence of God is the manifest omnipotence 
 of the libido, the only actual doer of wonders which we know. The 
 symptom described by Freud, as the " omnipotence of thought " in Com- 
 pulsion Neuroses arises from the " sexualizing " of the intellect. The 
 historical parallel for this is the magical omnipotence of the mystic, 
 attained by introversion. The " omnipotence of thought " corresponds to 
 the identification with God of the paranoic, arrived at similarly through 
 introversion. 
 
 ^^ Comparable to the mythological heroes who after their greatest 
 deeds fall into spiritual confusion. 
 
 ^* Here I must refer you to the blasphemous piety of Zinzendorf, which 
 has been made accessible to us by the noteworthy investigation of Pfister. 
 
 '^ Anah is really the beloved of Japhet, the son of Noah. She leaves 
 him because of the angel. 
 
 " The one invoked is really a star. Compare Miss Miller's poem. 
 
 '* Really an attribute of the wandering sun. 
 
 '" Compare Miss Miller's poem. 
 
 " My poor life is gone, 
 
 then having gained 
 
 One raptured glance, I'll die content. 
 
 For I the source of beauty, warmth and life 
 
 Have in his perfect splendor once beheld." 
 
 '* The light-substance of God. 
 
 " The light-substance of the individual soul. 
 
 '* The bringing together of the two light-substances shows their 
 common origin; they are the symbols of the libido. Here they are figures 
 of speech. In earlier times they were doctrines. According to Mechthild 
 von Magdeburg the soul is made out of love (" Das fliessende Licht der 
 Gottheit," herausgegeben von Escherich, Berlin 1909). 
 
 '* Compare what is said above about the snake symbol of the libido. 
 
pp. 87-126] THE SONG OF THE MOTH 507 
 
 The idea that the climax means at the same time the end, even death 
 forces itself here. 
 
 *" Compare the previously mentioned pictures of Stuck: Vice, Sin and 
 Lust, where the woman's naked body is encircled by the snake. Funda- 
 mentally it is a symbol of the most extreme rear of death. The death 
 of Cleopatia may be mentioned he/t. 
 
 ** Encircling by the serpent. 
 
PART II 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 * This is the way it appears to us from the psychological standpoint. 
 Sec below. 
 
 ^Samson as Sun-god. See Steinthal: "Die Sage von Simson," Zeit- 
 schrift fur Iblkerpsychologie, Vol. II. 
 
 ^ I am indebted for the knowledge of this fragment to Dr. Van 
 Ophuijsen of The Hague. 
 
 ^ Rudra, properly father of the Maruts (winds), a wind or sun god, 
 appears here as the sole creator God, as shown in the course of the 
 text. The role of creator and fructifier easily belongs to him as wind 
 god. I refer to the observations in Part I concerning Anaxagoras and 
 to what follows. 
 
 "This and the following passages from the Upanishads are quoted 
 from: "The Upanishads," translated by R. G. S. Mead and J. C. Chat- 
 topadhyaya. London 1896. 
 
 * In a similar manner, the Persian sun-god Mithra is endowed with 
 an immense number of eyes. 
 
 ^ Whoever has in himself, God, the sun, is immortal, like the sun. 
 Compare Pt. I, Ch. 5. 
 
 * He was given that name because he had introduced the phallic cult 
 into Greece. In gratitude to him for having buried the mother of the 
 serpents, the young serpents cleaned his ears, so that he became clairaudi- 
 ent and understood the language of birds and beasts. 
 
 ° Compare the vase picture of Thebes, where the Cabiri are repre- 
 sented in noble and in caricatured form (in Roscher: "Lexicon," s. 
 Megaloi Theoi). 
 
 *" The justification for calling the Dactyli thumbs is given in a note 
 in Pliny: 37, 170, according to which there were in Crete precious stones 
 of iron color and thumblike shape which were called Idaean Dactyli. 
 
 ^^ Therefore, the dactylic metre or verse. 
 
 "See Roscher: "Lexicon of Greek and Roman Mythology," s. 
 Dactyli. 
 
 ^* According to Jensen: " Kosmologie," p. 292, Oannes-Ea is the edu- 
 cator of men. 
 
 *Mnman: "Ancient Pagan and Modern Christian Symbolism." 
 
 ^^ Varro identifies the fieydTiOi Beo'l with the Penates. The Cabiri might 
 be simulacra duo virilia Castoris et Pollucis in the harbor of Samothrace. 
 
 ** In Brasiae on the Laconian coast and in Pephnos some statues 
 only a foot high with caps on their heads were found. 
 
 508 
 
pp. 127-138] ASPECTS OF THE LIBIDO 509 
 
 " That the monks have again invented cowls seems of no slight 
 importance. 
 
 ^^ Zentralblatt fiir Psychoanalyse, II, p. 187. 
 
 '"The typical motive of thf youliifu teacher of wisdom has also 
 been introduced into the Christ myth in the scene of the twelve-year-old 
 Jesus in the temple. 
 
 " Next to this, there is a female figure designated as KPATEIA, 
 which means "one who brings forth" (Orphic). 
 
 "Roscher: "Lexicon," s. v. Megaloi Theoi. 
 
 ^^Roscher: "Lexicon," s. v. Phales. 
 
 ^^ Compare Freud's evidence, Zeniralblatt fiir Psychoanalyse, I, 
 p. 188. I must remark at this place that etymologically penis and 
 penates are not grouped together. On the contrary, ""tof, ndadrj, 
 Sanskrit pdsa-h, Latin penis, were given with the Middle High German 
 visel (penis) and Old High German fasel the significance of foetus, 
 proles. (Walde: "Latin Etymologic," s. Penis.) 
 
 ^* Stekel in his " Traumsymbolik " has traced out this sort of repre- 
 sentation of the genitals, as has Spielrein also in a case of dementia 
 praecox. 1912 Jahrbuch, Vol. Ill, p. 369. 
 
 ^° The figure of Kpdreia, the one who " brings forth," placed beside 
 it is surprising in that the libido occupied in creating religion has 
 apparently developed out of the primitive relation to the mother. 
 
 "In Freud's paper (" Psychoanalytische Bemerkungen iiber einen 
 Fall von Paranoia usw.," 1912 Jahrbuch, Vol. Ill, p. 68), which ap- 
 peared simultaneously with the first part of my book, he makes an 
 observation absolutely parallel to the meaning of my remarks con- 
 cerning the "libido theory" resulting from the phantasies of the insane 
 Schreber: Schreber's divine rays composed by condensation of sun's rays, 
 nerve fibres and sperma are really nothing else but the libido fixations 
 projected outside and objectively represented, and lend to his delusion 
 a striking agreement with our theory. That the world must come to 
 an end because the ego of the patient attracts all the rays to himself; 
 that later during the process of reconstruction he must be very anxious 
 lest God sever the connection of the rays with him: these and certain 
 other peculiarities of Schreber's delusion sound very like the foregoing 
 endopsychic perceptions, on the assumption of which I have based the 
 interpretation of paranoia. 
 
 ^' " Tuscalanarum quaestionum," lib. IV. 
 
 " " Pro Quint.," 14. 
 
 ^" Walde: "Latin Etymological Dictionary," 1910. See libet. Libert 
 (children) is grouped together with libet by Nazari ("Riv. di Fil.," 
 XXXVI, 573). Could this be proven, then Liber, the Italian god 
 of procreation, undoubtedly connected with liberi, would also be grouped 
 with libet. Libitina is the goddess of the dead, who would have nothing 
 in common with Lubentina and Lubentia (attribute of Venus), which 
 belongs to libet; the name is as yet unexplained. (Compare the later 
 comments in this work.) Libare ^=z to pour (to sacrifice?) and is sup- 
 posed to have nothing to do with liber. The etymology of libido shows 
 not only the central setting of the idea, but also the connection with 
 
5IO CONCEPTION AND THEORY [pp. 139-156 
 
 the German Liebe (love). We are obliged to say under these 
 circumstances that not only the idea, but also the word libido is well 
 chosen for the subject under discussion. 
 
 ^" A corrected view on the conservation of energy in the light of the 
 theory of cognition might offer the comment that this picture is the pro- 
 jection of an endopsychic perception of the equivalent transformations 
 of the libido. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 * Freud: "Three Contributions to the Sexual Theory," p. 29. Trans- 
 lation by Brill. " In a non-sexual ' impulse ' originating from impulses 
 of motor sources we can distinguish a contribution from a stimulus- 
 receiving organ, such as the skin, mucous membrane, and sensory 
 organs. This we shall here designate as an erogenous zone; it is that 
 organ the stimulus of which bestows on the impulse the sexual char- 
 acter." 
 
 ^ Freud: Ibid., p. 14. "One definite kind of contiguity, consisting of 
 mutual approximation of the mucous membranes of the lips in the 
 form of a kiss, has among the most civilized nations received a sexual 
 value, though the parts of the body concerned do not belong to the sexual 
 apparatus but form the entrance to the digestive tract." 
 
 'See Freud: Ibid. 
 
 * An old view which Mobius endeavored to bring again to its own. 
 Among the newcomers it is Fouillee, Wundt, Beneke, Spencer, Ribot 
 and others, who grant the psychologic primate to the impulse system. 
 
 ^ Freud: Ibid., p. 25. "I must repeat that these psychoneuroses, as 
 far as my experience goes, are based on sexual motive powers. I do 
 not mean that the energy of the sexual impulse contributes to the forces 
 supporting the morbid manifestations (symptoms), but I wish distinctly 
 to maintain that this supplies the only constant and the most important 
 source of energy in the neurosis, so that the sexual life of such persons 
 manifests itself either exclusively, preponderately, or partially in these 
 symptoms." 
 
 ° That scholasticism is still firmly rooted in mankind is only 
 too easily proven, and an illustration of this is the fact that not the 
 least of the reproaches directed against Freud, is that he has changed 
 certain of his earlier conceptions. Woe to those who compel mankind 
 to learn anew! " Les savants ne sont pas curieux." 
 
 ' Jahrbuch, Vol. Ill, p. 65. 
 
 * Schreber's case is not a pure paranoia in the modern sense. 
 *Also in "Der Inhalt der Psychose," 1908. 
 
 ^"Compare Jung: "The Psychology of Dementia Praecox," p. 114. 
 
 ^* For example, in a frigid woman who as a result of a specific sexual 
 repression does not succeed in bringing the libido sexualis to the hus- 
 band, the parent imago is present and she produces symptoms which 
 belong to that environment. 
 
 ^^ Similar transgression of the sexual sphere might also_ occur in 
 hysterical psychoses; that indeed is included with the definition of the 
 psychosis and means nothing but a general disturbance of adaptation. 
 
pp. 139-156] CONCEPTION AND THEORY 511 
 
 *'"Die psychosexuellen Differenzen der Hysteric und der Dementia 
 praecox," Zentralblatt fur Nervenheilkunde und Psychiatrie, 1908. 
 
 " " Introjektion und Ubertragung," Jalirbuch, Vol. I, p. 422. 
 
 ^* See Avenarius: " Menschliche VVeltbegriffe," p. 25. 
 
 18 " Welt als Wille und Vorstellung," Vol. I, p. 54. 
 
 " " Theogonie." 
 
 ^* Compare Roscher: "Lexicon," p. 2248. 
 
 ^' Drews: " Plotinus," Jena 1907, p. 127. 
 
 *" Ibid., p. 132. 
 
 "Ibid., p. 135. 
 
 ^^ Plotinus: " Enneades," II, 5, 3. 
 
 "Plotinus: "Enneades," IV, 8, 3. 
 
 *"" Enneades," III, 5, 9. 
 
 "Ibid., p. 141. 
 
 ^° Naturally this does not mean that the function of reality owes its 
 existence to the differentiation in procreative instincts exclusively. I am 
 aware of the undetermined great part played by the function of 
 nutrition. 
 
 " Malthusianism is the artificial setting forth of the natural tendency. 
 
 ^* For instance, in the form of procreation as in general of the will. 
 
 ** Freud in his work on paranoia has allowed himself to be carried 
 over the boundaries of his original conception of libido by the facts of 
 this illness. He there uses libido even for the function of reality, which 
 cannot be reconciled with the standpoint of the " Three Contributions." 
 
 " Bleuler arrives at this conclusion from the ground of other con- 
 siderations, which I cannot always accept. See Bleuler, " Dementia 
 Praecox," in Aschaffenburg's "Handbuch der Psychiatrie." 
 
 '^ See Jung: " Kritik iiber E. Bleuler: Zur Theorie des schizophrenen 
 Negativismus." Jalirbuch, Vol. Ill, p. 469. 
 
 ^^Spielrein: " Uber den psychologischen Inhalt eines Falles von 
 Schizophrenie." Jahrbuch, Vol. Ill, p. 329. 
 
 ^' His researches are in my possession and their publication is in 
 preparation. 
 
 ^* Honegger made use of this example in his lecture at the private 
 psychoanalytic congress in Niirnberg, 1910. 
 
 ^^Spielrein: Ibid., pp. 338, 353, 387. For soma as the "effusion of 
 the seed," see what follows. 
 
 ^"Compare Berthelot: " Les Alchemistes Grecs," and Spielrein: Ibid., 
 P- 353- 
 
 ' I cannot refrain from observing that this vision reveals the original 
 meaning of alchemy. A primitive magic power for generation, that is 
 to say, a means by which children could be produced without the mother. 
 
 I 
 
512 THE TRANSFORMATION [pp. 157-190 
 
 ''Spielrein: Ibid., pp. 338, 345. 
 
 " I must mention here those Indians who create the first people from 
 the union of a sword hilt and a shuttle. 
 
 "Ibid., p. 399. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 * Naturally a precursor of onanism. 
 
 ' This true catatonic pendulum movement of the head, I saw arise 
 in the case of a catatonic patient, from the coitus movements gradually 
 shifted upwards. This Freud has described long ago as a shifting from 
 below to above. 
 
 ' She put the small fragments which fell out into her mouth and ate 
 them. 
 
 *" Dreams and Myths." Vienna 1909. Translated by Wm. A. White, 
 M.D. 
 
 ^A. Kuhn: " Mythologische Studien," Vol. I: "Die Herabkunft des 
 Feuers und des Gottertrankes." Giitersloh 1886. A very readable 
 resume of the contents is to be found in Steinthal: "Die urspriingliche 
 Form der Sage von Prometheus," Zeitschrift fiir Volkerpsychologie und 
 Sprach<w'tssenschaft, Vol. II, 1862; also in Abraham: Ibid. 
 
 * Also mathnami and mathayati. The root manth or math has a 
 special significance. 
 
 ''Zeitschrift fiir fergleichende Sprachforschung, Vol. II, p. 395, and 
 Vol. IV, p. 124. 
 
 ® Bapp in Roscher's " Lexicon," Sp. 3034. 
 
 " Bhrgu:=z (p'keyv, a recognized connection of sound. See Roscher: Sp. 
 3034. 54- 
 
 ^'' For the eagle as a fire token among the Indians, see Roscher: Sp. 
 3034, 60. 
 
 ^^ The stem manth according to Kuhn becomes in German 
 mangeln, rollen (referring to washing). Manthara is the butter 
 paddle. When the gods generated the amrta (drink of immortality) 
 by twirling the ocean around, they used the mountain Mandara as the 
 paddle (see Kuhn: Ibid., p. 17). Steinthal calls attention to the Latin 
 expression in poetical speech: mentula z= male member, in which ment 
 (manth) was used. I add here also, mentula is to be taken as diminu- 
 tive for menla or mentha (fii^v^o)^ Minze. In antiquity the Minze was 
 called "Crown of Aphrodite" (Dioscorides, II, 154). Apuleius called 
 it "mentha venerea"; it was an aphrodisiac. (The opposite meaning is 
 found in Hippocrates: Si quis earn saepe comedat, ejus genitale semen 
 ita colliquescit, ut effluat, et arrigere prohibet et corpus imbecillum reddit, 
 and according to Dioscorides, Minze is a means of preventing conception. 
 (See Aigremont: " Volkserotik und Pflanzenwelt," Vol. I, p. 127). But the 
 ancients also said of Menta: " Menta autem appellata, quod suo odore 
 mentem feriat — mentae ipsius odor animum excitat." This leads us to 
 the root ment — in Latin mens; English, mind — with which the parallel 
 development to pramanlha, Ufjo/xTj^evg, would be completed. Still to be 
 added is that an especially strong chin is called mento (mentum). 
 A special development of the chin is given, as we know, to the priapic 
 
pp. 157-190] THE TRANSFORMATION 513 
 
 figure of Pulcinello, also the pointed beard (and ears) of the satyrs and 
 the other priapic demon, just as in general all the protruding parts of 
 the body can be given a masculine significance and all the receding 
 parts or depressions a feminine significance. This applies also to all 
 otlier animate or inanimate objects. See Maeder: Fsycho.-Neurol. 
 Wochenschr., X. Jahrgang. However, this whole connection is more 
 than a little uncertain. 
 
 ^' Abraham observes that in Hebrew the significance of the words 
 for man and woman is related to this symbolism. 
 
 ^^ " What is called the gulya (pudendum) means the yoni (the birth- 
 place) of the God; the fire, which was born there, is called 'beneficent'" 
 (" Katyayanas Karmapradipa," I, 7; translated by Kuhn: " Herab- 
 kunft des Feuers," p. 67). The etym.ologic connection between bohren — 
 geboren is possible. The Germanic boron (to bore) is primarily related 
 to the Latin jorare and the Greek (papdcj = to plow. Possibly it is 
 an Indo-Germanic root bher with the meaning to bear; Sanscrit bhar-; 
 Greek <p(p-', Latin fer-; from this Old High German beran, English to 
 bear, Latin fero and fertilis, fordus (pregnant) ; Greek (pnpdq. Walde 
 ("Latin Etj'm.," s. Ferio) traces forare to the root bher-. Compare with 
 this the phallic s3'mbolism of the plough, which we meet later on. 
 
 ^* Weber: " Indische Studien," I, 197; quoted by Kuhn: Ibid., p. 71. 
 
 *° " Rigveda," HI, 29 — i to 3. 
 
 ^° Or mankind in general. Vicpatni is the feminine wood, vi^pati, an 
 attribute of Agni, the masculine. In the instruments of fire lies the 
 origin of the human race, from the same perverse logic as in the before- 
 mentioned shuttle and sword-hilt. Coitus as the means of origin of 
 the hnman race must be denied, from the motive, to be more fully dis- 
 cussed later, of a primitive resistance against sexuality. 
 
 ^' Wood as the symbol of the mother is well known from the dream 
 investigation of the present time. See Freud: "Dream Interpretation." 
 Stekel (" Sprache des Traumes," p. 128) explains it as the symbol of 
 the woman. Wood is also a German vulgar term for the breast. 
 ("Wood before the house.") The Christian wood symbolism needs a 
 chapter by itself. The son of Ha: Ha is the daughter of Manus, the 
 one and only, who with the help of his fish has overcome the deluge, 
 and then with his daughter again procreated the human race. 
 
 ^^ See Hirt: "Etymologic der neuhochdeutschen Sprache," p. 348. 
 
 ''The capitular of Charlemagne of 942 forbade "those sacrilegious 
 fires which are called Niedfyr." See Grimm: " Mythologie," 4th edition, 
 p. 502. Here there are to be found descriptions of similar fire cere- 
 monies. 
 
 =°Kuhn: Ibid., p. 43. 
 
 "Preuss: "Globus," LXXXVI, 1905, S. 358. 
 
 "Compare with this Friedrich Schultze: "Psychologic dcr Natur- 
 volker," p. 161. 
 
 "'This primitive play leads to the phallic symbolism of the plough. 
 'Apovv means to plough and possesses in addition the poetic meaning 
 of impregnate. The Latin arare means merely to plough, but the phrase 
 " fundum alienum arare " means " to pluck cherries in a neighbor's 
 
514 THE TRANSFORMATION [pp. 157-190 
 
 garden." A striking representation of the phallic plough is found on 
 a vase in the archeological museum in Florence. It portrays a row 
 of six naked Ithyphallic men who carry a plough represented phallically 
 (Dieterich: "Mutter Erde," p. 107). The " carrus navalis" of our 
 spring festival (carnival) was at times during the Middle Ages a 
 plough (Hahn: " Demeter und Baubo," quoted by Dieterich: Ibid., p. 
 109). Dr. Abegg of Zurich called my attention to the clever work of 
 R. Meringer ("Worter und Sachen. Indogermanische Forschungen," i6, 
 179/84, 1904). We are made acquainted there with a very far-reaching 
 amalgamation of the libido symbols with the external materials and 
 external activities, which support our previous considerations to an 
 extraordinary degree. Meringer's assumption proceeds from the two 
 Indo-Germanic roots, uen and ueneti. Indo-Germanic *uen Holz, ai. 
 ist. Tan, lana. Agni is garbhas vandm, " fruit of the womb of the 
 woods." 
 
 Indo-Germanir *ueneti signifies "he ploughs": by that is meant the 
 penetration of the ground by means of a sharpened piece of wood and 
 the throwing up of the earth resulting from it. This verb itself is not 
 verified because this very primitive working of the ground was given 
 up at an early time. When a better treatment of the fields was learned, 
 the primitive designation for the ploughed field was given to the pasture, 
 therefore Gothic linja, voiiij. Old Icelandic vin, pasture, meadow. Per- 
 haps also the Icelandic Vanen, as Gods of agriculture, came from that. 
 
 From arkern (to plough) sprang coire (the connection might have 
 been the other way); also Indo-Germanic * uenos (enjoyment of love), 
 Latin Tenus. Compare with this the root «<?«=: wood. CoiV^ = pas- 
 sionately to strive; compare Old High German I'innan, to rave or to 
 storm; also the Gothic Tens; « /iTrtf = hope ; Old High German Tjan^z: 
 expectation, hope; Sanscrit Tan, to desire or need; further, IVonne (de- 
 light, ecstasy) ; Old Icelandic Tinr (beloved, friend). From the meaning 
 ackern (to plough) arises Ti-ohnen (to live). This transition has been 
 completed only in the German. From nuohnen-^gevjnhnen, geivohnt sein 
 (10 be accustomed). Old Icelandic Tanr ^:= geivohnt (to be accustomed); 
 from ackern further— ►jif// tniihen, plagen (to take much trouble, wearing 
 work). Old Icelandic TUina, to work: Old High German tvinnan (to toil 
 hard, to overwork); Gothic Tinnan, naaxei-v]Tunns,''^a&Tjfia. From ackern 
 comes, on the other hand, geiuinnen erlangen (to win, to attain). Old 
 High German giiiinnan, but also Terletzen (to injure) : Gothic Tunds 
 (tvund), wound. IVund in the beginning, the most primal sense, was 
 therefore the ground torn up by the wooden implement. From Terletzen 
 (to injure) come schlagen (to strike), besiegen (to conquer): Old High 
 German 'ucinna (strife) ; Old Saxon ixinnan (to battle). 
 
 '* The old custom of making the "bridal bed" upon the field, which 
 ■was for the purpose of rendering the field fertile, contains the primitive 
 thought in the most elementary form; by that the analogy was expressed 
 in the clearest manner: Just as I impregnate the woman, so do I impreg- 
 nate the earth. The symbol leads the sexual libido over to the cultiva- 
 tion of the earth and to its fruitfulness. Compare with that Mannhardt: 
 " Wald- und Feldkulte," where there are abundant illustrations. 
 
 ^^ Spielrein's patient {Jahrbuch, III, p. 371) associates fire and genera- 
 tion in an unmistakable manner. She says as follows concerning it: 
 "One needs iron for the purpose of piercing the earih and for the 
 purpose of creating fire." This is to be found in the Mithra liturgy as 
 well. In the invocation to the fire god, it is said: avvdjjaaq nvEVfiaTt 
 
I 
 
 pp. 157-190] THE TRANSFORMATION 515 
 
 Ta -ipiva K).Ei-dpa tov ovpavov (Thou who hast closed up the fien- locks of 
 heaven, with the breath of the spirit, — open to me). "With iron one 
 can create cold people from the stone.'" The bori.^g into the earth has 
 for her the meaning of fructification or birth. She says: "With the 
 glowing iron one can pierce through mountains. The iron becomes 
 glowing when one pushes it into a stone." 
 
 Compare with this the etymology- of boliren and gelLren (see above). 
 In the " Bluebird '' of Maeterlinck the two children who seek the bluebird 
 in the land of the unborn children, find a boy who bores into his nose. 
 It is said of him: he will discover a new fire, so as to warm the earth 
 again, when it will have grown cold. 
 
 '* Compare with this the interesting proofs in Bucher: "Arbeit und 
 Rhjthmus," Leipzig 1899. 
 
 " Amusement is undoubtedly coupled with many rites, but by no means 
 with all. There are some very unpleasant things. 
 
 ^* The Upanishads belong to the Brahmana, to the theolog}- of the 
 Vedic writings, and comprise the theosophical-speculative part of the 
 Vedic teachings. The Vedic writings and collections are in part of 
 very uncertain age and may reach back to a ver>' distant past because 
 for a long period they were handed down only orally. 
 
 *' The primal and omniscient being, the idea of whom, translated 
 into psychology-, is comprehended in the conception of libido. 
 
 '" Atman is also considered as originally a bisexual beings-correspond- 
 ing to the libido theory. The world sprang from desire. Compare 
 Brihaddranyaka-U panishad, I, 4, i (Deussen) : 
 
 "(i) In the beginning this world was Atman alone — he looked 
 
 around: Then he saw nothing but himself. 
 "(2) Then he was frightened; therefore, one is afraid, when one is 
 
 alone. Then he thought: Wherefore should I be afraid, 
 
 since there is nothing beside myself ? 
 "(3) But also he had no joy, therefore one has no joy when one 
 
 is alone. Then he longed for a companion." 
 
 After this there follows the description of his division quoted above. 
 Plato's conception of the world-soul approaches very near to the Hindoo 
 idea. " The soul in no wise needed eyes, because near it there was 
 nothing visible. Nothing was separate from it, nothing approached it, 
 because outside of it there was nothing" ("Timaios"). 
 
 ** Compare with this Freud's " Three Contributions to the Sexual 
 Theory." 
 
 " What seems an apparently close parallel to the position of the hand 
 in the Upanishad text I observed in a little child. The child held one 
 hand before his mouth and rubbed it with the other, a movement which 
 may be compared to that of the violinist. It was an early infantile 
 habit which persisted for a long time afterwards. 
 
 "Compare Freud: " Bemerkungen iiber einen Fall von Zwangs- 
 neurose." 1912 Jahrbuch, Vol. I, p. 357. 
 
 '* As shown above, in the child the libido progresses from the mouth 
 zone into the sexual zone. 
 
5i6 THE TRANSFORMATION [pp. 157-190 
 
 °' Compare what has been said above about Dactyli. Abundant ex- 
 amples are found in Aigremont: "Fuss- und Schuhsymbolik." 
 
 '° When, in the enormously increased sexual resistance of the present 
 day, women emphasize the secondary signs of sex and their erotic 
 charm by specially designed clothing, that is a phenomenon which belongs 
 in the same general scheme for the heightening of allurement. 
 
 " It is well known that the orifice of the ear has also a sexual value. In 
 a hymn to the Virgin it is called "quae per aurem concepisti." Rabelais' 
 Gargantua was born through his mother's ear. Bastian ("Beitrage z. 
 vergl. Psychologic," p. 238) mentions the following passage from 
 an old work, " There is not to be found in this entire kingdom, even 
 among the very smallest girls, a maiden, because even in her tender 
 youth she puts a special medicine into her genitals, also in the orifice of 
 her ears; she stretches these and holds them open continuously." — Also 
 the Mongolian Buddha was born from the ear of his mother. 
 
 '* The driving motive for the breaking up of the ring might be sought, 
 as I have already intimated in passing, in the fact that the secondary 
 sexual activity (the transformed coitus) never is or would be adapted 
 to bring about that natural satiety, as is the activity in its real place. 
 With this first step towards transformation, the first step towards the 
 characteristic dissatisfaction was also taken, which later drove man 
 from discovery to discovery without allowing him ever to attain satiety. 
 Thus it looks from the biological standpoint, which however is not the 
 only one possible. 
 
 "Translated by Mead and Chattopadhyaya. Sec. i, Pt. II. 
 
 *" In a song of the Rigveda it is said that the hymns and sacrificial 
 speeches, as well as all creation in general, have proceeded from the 
 "entirely fire consumed" Purusha (primitive man-creator of the world). 
 
 "^Compare Brugsch: "Religion und Myth. d. alt. Aegypter," p. 255 f., 
 and the Egyptian dictionary. 
 
 "' The German word " Schwan " belongs here, therefore it sings when 
 dying. It is the sun. The metaphor in Heine supplements this very 
 beautifully. 
 
 " Es singt der Schwan im Weiher 
 Und rudert auf und ab, 
 Und immer leiser singend, 
 Taucht er ins Flutengrab." 
 
 Hauptmann's " Sunken Bell " is a sun myth in which bell = sun =: life = 
 libido. 
 
 ^'Loosely connected with ag-ilis. See Max Miiller: " Vorl. iiber den 
 Ursprung und die Entwicklung der Religion," p. 237. 
 
 ■•* An Eranian name of fire is Nairyocagha = masculine word. The 
 Hindoo Nard(;amsa means wish of men (Spiegel: " Eran. Altertumskunde," 
 II, 49). Fire has the significance of Logos (compare Ch. 7, "Sieg- 
 fried"). Of Agni (fire), Max Miiller, in his introduction to "The Science 
 of Comparative Religions," says: "It was a conception familiar to 
 India to consider the fire upon the altar as being at the same time 
 subject and object. The fire burned the sacrifice and was thereby similar 
 to the priest, the fire carried the sacrifice to the gods, and was thereby 
 an intercessor between men and the gods: fire itself, however, repre- 
 
pp. 157-190] THE TRANSFORMATION 517 
 
 sented also something divine, a god, and when honor was to be shown 
 to this god, then fire was as much the subject as the object of the 
 sacrifice. Hence the first conception, that Agni sacrificed itself, i.e._ that 
 it produced for itself its own sacrifice, and next that it brings itself 
 to the sacrifice." The contact of this line of thought with the Christian 
 symbol is plainly apparent. Krishna utters the same thought in the 
 " Bhagavad-Gita," b. IV (translated by Arnold, London 1910) : 
 
 "All's then God! 
 The sacrifice is Brahm, the ghee and grain 
 Are Brahm, the fire is Brahm, the flesh it eats 
 Is Brahm, and unto Brahm attaineth he 
 Who, in such office, meditates on Brahm." 
 
 The wise Diotima sees behind this symbol of fire (in Plato's sym- 
 posium, c. 23). She teaches Socrates that Eros is "the intermediate 
 being between mortals and immortals, a great Demon, dear Socrates; 
 for everything demoniac is just the intermediate link between God and 
 man." Eros has the task " of being interpreter and messenger from 
 men to the gods, and from the gods to men, from the former for their 
 prayers and sacrifices, from the latter for their commands and for 
 their compensations for the sacrifices, and thus filling up the gap between 
 both, so that through his mediation the whole is bound together with 
 itself." Eros is a son of Penia (poverty, need) generated by Poros 
 intoxicated with nectar. The meaning of Poros is dark; n6poc means way 
 and hole, opening. Zielinski: "Arch. f. Rel. Wissensch.," IX, 43 ff., 
 places him with Phoroneus, identical with the fire-bringer, who is held 
 in doubt; others identify him with primal chaos, whereas others read 
 arbitrarily Kdpof and Mopog. Under these circumstances, the question 
 arises whether there may not be sought behind it a relatively simple 
 sexual symbolism. Eros would be then simply the son of Need and of 
 the female genitals, for this door is the beginning and birthplace of 
 fire. Diotima gives an excellent description of Eros: "He is manly, 
 daring, persevering, a strong hunter (archer, compare below) and an 
 incessant intriguer, who is constantly striving after wisdom, — a powerful 
 sorcerer, poison mixer and sophist; and he is respected neither as an 
 immortal nor as a mortal, but on the same day he first blooms and 
 blossoms, when he has attained the fulness of the striving, then dies 
 in it but always awakens again to life because of the nature of his 
 father (rebirth!); attainment, however, always tears him down 
 again." For this characterization, compare Chs. V, VI and VII of this 
 work. 
 
 ^'Compare Riklin: "Wish Fulfilment and Symbolism in Fairy Tales," 
 translated by Wm. White, M.D., where a child is produced by the 
 parents placing a little turnip in the oven. The motive of the furnace 
 where the child is hatched is also found again in the type of the whale- 
 dragon myth. It is there a regularly recurring motive because the belly 
 of the dragon is very hot, so that as the result of the heat the hero 
 loses his hair — that is to say, he loses the characteristic covering of hair 
 of the adult and becomes a child. (Naturally the hair is related to 
 the sun's rays, which are extinguished in the setting of the sun.) 
 Abundant examples of this motive are in Frobenius: "Das Zeitalter 
 des Sonnengottes," Vol. I. Berlin 1904. 
 
 *° This aspect of Agni is similar to Dionysus, who bears a remarkable 
 parallel to both the Christian and the Hindoo mythology. 
 
5i8 THE ORIGIN OF THE HERO [pp. 191-232 
 
 *' " Now everything in the world which is damp, he created from 
 sperma, but this is the soma." Brihaddratiyaka-Upani^had, 1-4. 
 
 *^ The question is whether this significance was a secondary develop- 
 ment. Kuhn seems to assume this. He says ("Herabkunft des Feuers," 
 p. 18): "However, together with the meaning of the root manth already 
 evolved, there has also developed in the Vedas the conception of ' tearing 
 off * due naturally to the mode of procedure." 
 
 *' Examples in Frobenius: "Das Zeitalter des Sonnengottes." 
 
 ""See in this connection Stekel: "Die sexuelle Wurzel der Klepto- 
 manie," Zeitschrift fiir Sexualivissensckafi, 1908. 
 
 '* Even in the Roman Catholic church at various places the custom 
 prevailed for the priest to produce once a year the ceremonial fire. 
 
 *' I must remark that the designation of onanism as a " great dis- 
 covery " is not merely a play with words on my part. I owe it to two 
 young patients who pretended that they were in possession of a terrible 
 secret; that they had discovered something horrible, which no one had 
 ever known before, because had it been known great misery would have 
 overtaken mankind. Their discovery was onanism. 
 
 °' One must in fairness, however, consider that the demands of life, 
 rendered still more severe by our moral code, are so heavy that it 
 •simply is impossible for many people to attain that goal which can be 
 begrudged to no one, namely the possibility of love. Under the cruel 
 compulsion of domestication, what is left but onanism, for those people 
 possessed of an active sexuality? It is well known that the most 
 useful and best men owe their ability to a powerful libido. This ener- 
 getic libido longs for something more than merely a Christian love for 
 the neighbor. 
 
 '* I am fully conscious that onanism is only an intermediate phe- 
 nomenon. There always remains the problem of the original division of 
 the libido. 
 
 °' In connection with my terminology mentioned in the previous 
 chapter, I give the name of autoerotic to this stage following the inces- 
 tuous love. Here I emphasize the erotic as a regressive phenomenon; the 
 libido blocked by the incest barrier regressively takes possession of an 
 older way of functioning anterior to the incestuous object of love. This 
 may be comprehended by Bleuler's terminologj', Aiitismus, that is, the \ 
 function of pure self-preservation, which is especially distinguished by 
 the function of nutrition. However, the terminology "autismus" cannot 
 very well be longer applied to the presexual material, because it is 
 already used in reference to the mental state of dementia praecox where 
 it has to include autoerotism plus introverted desexualized libido. 
 Autismus designates first of all a pathological phenomenon of regressive 
 character, the presexual material, however, of a normal functioning, the 
 chrysalis stage. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 * Therefore that beautiful name of the sun-hero Gilgamesh: Wehfroh- 
 mensch (pain-joy human being). See Jensen: "Gilgamesh Epic." 
 
 """ ? Compare here the interesting researches of H. Silberer. 1912 Jahr- 
 buch, Vol. I, p. 513. 
 
pp. 191-232] THE ORIGIN OF THE HERO 519 
 
 ' See Bleuler: Psyclilatr.-neurol. IVochenschrift, XII. Jahrgang, Nr. 
 18 to 21. 
 
 * Compare with this my explanations in Jahrbuch, Vol. Ill, p. 469. 
 
 ' Compare the exhortation by Krishna to the irresolute Arjuna in 
 Bhagavad-Gita: "But thou, be free of the pairs of opposites ! " Bk. II, 
 " The Song Celestial," Edwin Arnold. 
 
 ' " Pensees," LIV. 
 
 ^ * See the following chapter. 
 
 'Compare John Miiller: " Uber die phantastischen Gesichtserschei- 
 nungen," Coblenz 1826; and Jung: "Occult Phenomena," in Collected 
 Papers on Analytic Psychology. 
 
 'Also the related doctrine of the Upanishad. 
 
 ^^ Bertschinger: "Illustrierte Halluzinationen," Jahrbuih, Vol. Ill, p. 69. 
 
 *^ How very important is the coronation and sun identification, is 
 shown not alone from countless old customs, but also from the corre- 
 sponding ancient metaphors in the religious speech: the Wisdom of 
 Solomon \:i-j: "Therefore, they will receive a beautiful crown from 
 the hand of the Lord." I Peter v:4: "Feed the flock of God . . . and 
 when the chief shepherd shall appear ye shall receive a crown of glory 
 that fadeth not away." 
 
 In a church hymn of Allendorf it is said of the soul: "The soul is 
 liberated from all care and pain and in dying it has come to the croivn 
 of joy; she stands as bride and queen in the glitter of eternal splendor, 
 at the side of the great king," etc. In a hymn by Laurentius Laurentii 
 it is said (also of the soul): "The crown is entrusted to the brides 
 because they conquer." In a song by Sacer we find the passage: "Adorn 
 my coffin with garlands just as a conqueror is adorned, — from those 
 springs of heaven, my soul has attained the eternally green crown: the 
 true glory of victory, coming from the son of God who has so cared 
 for me." A quotation from the above-mentioned song of Allendorf is 
 added here, in which we have another complete expression of the primi- 
 tive psychology of the sun identification of men, which we met in the 
 Egyptian song of triumph of the ascending soul. 
 
 (Concerning the soul, continuation of the above passage:) "It [the 
 soul] sees a clear countenance [sun] : his [the sun's] joyful loving nature 
 now restores it through and through : it is a light in his light. — Now the 
 child can see the father: He feels the gentle emotion of love. Now he 
 can understand the word of Jesus. He himself, the father, has loved 
 you. An unfathomable sea of benefits, an abyss of eternal waves of 
 blessing is disclosed to the enlightened spirit: he beholds the countenance 
 of God, and knows what signifies the inheritor of God in light and the 
 co-heir of Christ. — The feeble body rests on the earth: it sleeps until 
 Jesus awakens it. Then ivill the dust become the sun, which now is 
 covered by the dark cavern: Then shall we come together with all the 
 pious, who knows how soon, and will be for eternity with the Lord." I 
 have emphasized the significant passages by italics: they speak for 
 themselves, so that I need add nothing. 
 
 ^' In order to avoid misunderstanding I must add that this was abso- 
 lutely unknown to the patient. 
 
520 THE ORIGIN OF THE HERO [pp. 191-232 
 
 *' The analysis of an eleven-year-old girl also confirms this. I gave 
 a report of this in the I Congres International de Pedologie, 191 1, in 
 Brussels. 
 
 ^* The identity of the divine hero with the mystic is not to be 
 doubted. In a prayer written on papyrus to Hermes, it is said: av yap 
 eyc) Kol tyu aii' to abv bvofta tfibv Koi to tfibv abv tyc) yap elfii rb elQn^.dv aov (For 
 thou art I and I am thou, thy name is mine, and mine is thine; for 
 I am thy image). (Kenyon: Greek Papyrus, in the British Museum, 
 1893, p. 116, Pap. CXXII, 2. Cited by Dieterich: " Mithrasliturgie," 
 p. 79.) The hero as image of the libido is strikingly illustrated in the 
 head of Dionysus at Leiden (Roscher, I, Sp. 1128), where the hair rises 
 like flame over the head. He is — like a flame: "Thy savior will be 
 a flame." Firmicus Maternus (" De Errore Prof. Relig.," 104, p. 28) ac- 
 quaints us with the fact that the god was saluted as bridegroom, and 
 "young light." He transmits the corrupt Greek sentence, <5e wv^t 
 Xaipe vvv<j>E veov <jtug, with which he contrasts the Christian conception: 
 "Nullum apud te lumen est nee est aliquis qui sponsus mereatur audire: 
 unum lumen est, unus est sponsus. Nominum horum gratiam Christus 
 accepit." Today Christ is still our hero and the bridegroom of the soul. 
 These attributes will be confirmed in regard to Miss Miller's hero in 
 what follows. 
 
 ^' The giving of a name is therefore of significance in the so-called 
 spiritual manifestations. See my paper, 1902, " Occult Phenomena," Col- 
 lected Papers on Analytical Psychology. 
 
 ^^ The ancients recognized this demon as ffwoTrarfdf, the companion and 
 follower. 
 
 *' A parallel to these phantasies are the well-known interpretations 
 of the Sella Petri of the pope. 
 
 *' When Freud called attention through his analytic researches to the 
 connection betAveen excrements and gold, many ignorant persons found 
 themselves obliged to ridicule in an airy manner this connection. The 
 mythologists think differently about it. De Gubernatis says that excre- 
 ment and gold are always associated together. Grimm tells us of the fol- 
 lowing magic charm: "If one wants money in his house the whole year, 
 one must eat lentils on New Year's Day." This notable connection is 
 explained simply through the physiological fact of the indigestibility of 
 lentils, which appear again in the form of coins. Thus one becomes a 
 mint. 
 
 *' A French father who naturally disagreed with me in regard to this 
 interest in his child mentioned, nevertheless, that when the child speaks 
 of cacao, he always adds "lit"; he means caca-au-Iit. 
 
 '"Freud: Jahrbuch, Vol. I, p. i. Jung: Jahrbuch, Vol. II, p. 33. See 
 third lecture delivered at Clark University, 1909. 
 
 '* I refer to the previous etymologic connection. { 
 
 ''Compare Bleuler: Jahrbuch, Vol. Ill, p. 467. 
 
 " " Genius and Insanity." 
 
 '* Here again is the connection with antiquity, the infantile past ' 
 
 ^° This fact is unknown to me. It might be possible that in some 
 way the name of the legendary man who invented the cuneiform char- 
 
pp. 191-232] THE ORIGIN OF THE HERO 521 
 
 acters has been preserved (as, for example, Sinlikiunnini as the poet 
 of the Gilgamesh epic). But I have not succeeded in finding anything 
 of that sort. However, Ashshurbanaplu or Asurbanipal has left behind 
 that marvellous cuneiform library, which was excavated in Kujundschik. 
 Perhaps " Asurubama " has something to do with this name. Further 
 there comes into consideration the name of Aholibamah, which we have 
 met in Part I. The word " Ahamarama " betrays equally some connec- 
 tions with Anah and Aholibamah, those daughters of Cain with the 
 sinful passion for the sons of God. This possibility hints at Chiwantopel 
 as the longed-for son of God. (Did Byron think of the two sister whores, 
 Ohola and Oholiba? Ezeck. xxiii:4.) 
 
 " The race does not part with its wandering sun-heroes. Thus it 
 was related of Cagliostro, that he once drove at the same time four 
 white horses out of a city from all the city gates simultaneously 
 (Helios!). 
 
 ^' Mysticism. 
 
 "^ Agni, the fire, also hides himself at times in a cavern. Therefore 
 he must be brought forth again by generation from the cavity of the 
 female wood. Compare Kuhn: " Herabk. des Feuers." 
 
 " We = Allah. 
 
 '* The " two-horned." According to the commentaries, this refers to 
 Alexander the Great, who in the Arabian legends plays nearly the same 
 role as the German Dietrich von Bern. The " two-horned " refers to 
 the strength of the sun-bull. Alexander is often found upon coins with 
 the horns of Jupiter Ammon. It is a question of identification of the 
 ruler around whom so many legends are clustered, with the sun of spring 
 in the signs of the bull and the ram. It is obvious that humanity had 
 a great need of effacing the personal and human from their heroes, so 
 as finally to make them, through a fxeTaaraatg (eclipse), the equal of 
 the sun, that is to say, completely into a libido-symbol. If we thought 
 like Schopenhauer, then we would surely say, Libido-symbol. But if we 
 thought like Goethe, then we would say. Sun; for we exist, because the 
 sun sees us. 
 
 "'Vollers: " Chidher. Archiv fiir Religionswissenschaft," p. 235, Vol. 
 XII, 1909. This is the work which is my authority on the Koran com- 
 mentaries. 
 
 "^ Here the ascension of Mithra and Christ are closely related. See 
 Part I. 
 
 '^ A parallel is found in the Mithra mysteries! See below. 
 
 *^ Parallel to this are the conversations of Mohammed with Elias, at 
 which the sacramental bread was served. In the New Testament the 
 awkwardness is restricted to the proposal of Peter. The infantile char- 
 acter of such scenes is shown by similar features, thus by the gigantic 
 stature of Elias in the Koran, and also the tales of the commentary, in 
 which it is stated that Elias and Chidher met each year in Mecca, 
 conversed and shaved each other's heads. 
 
 ^° On the contrary, according to Matthew xvii:ii, John the Baptist is 
 to be understood as Elias. 
 
 ** Compare the Kyffhauser legend. 
 
522 THE ORIGIN OF THE HERO [pp. 191-232 
 
 " Vollers: Ibid. 
 
 '* Another account says that Alexander had been in India on the 
 mountain of Adam with his " minister " Chidher. 
 
 ^' These mythological equations follow absolutely the rule of dreams, 
 where the dreamer can be resolved into many analogous forms. 
 
 *" " He must grow, but I must waste away." — John iii:30. 
 
 ■** Cumont: " Textes et Monuments," p. 172. 
 
 *^ The parallel between Hercules and Mithra may be drawn even 
 more closely. Like Hercules, Mithra is an excellent archer. Judging 
 from certain monuments, not only the youthful Hercules appears to be 
 threatened by a snake, but also Mithra as a youth. The meaning of 
 the aG/lof of Hercules (the work) is the same as the Mithraic mystery of 
 the conquering and sacrifice of the bull. 
 
 *' These three scenes are represented in a row on the Klagenfurt 
 monument. Thus the dramatic connection of these must be surmised 
 (Cumont: " Myst. des Mithras"). 
 
 ** Also the triple crown. 
 
 *' The Christian sequence is John — Christ, Peter — Pope. 
 
 *' The immortality of Moses is proven by the parallel situation with 
 Elias in the transfiguration. 
 
 *' See Frobenius: "Das Zeitalter des Sonnengottes." 
 
 *" Therefore the fish is the symbol of the " Son of God " ; at the same ' 
 time the fish is also the symbol of the approaching world-cycle. 
 
 *'Riklin: "Wish Fulfilment and Symbolism." 
 
 "*Inman: "Ancient Pagan and Modern Christian Symbolism." 
 
 '* The amniotic membrane (?). 
 
 *^ The Etrurian Tages, who sprang from the " freshly ploughed fur- 
 row," is also a teacher of wisdom. In the Litaolane myth of the Basutos, 
 there is a description of how a monster devoured all men and left only 
 one woman, who gave birth to a son, the hero, in a stable (instead of a 
 cave: see the etymology of this myth). Before she had arranged a bed 
 for the infant out of the straw, he was already grown and spoke " words 
 of wisdom." The quick growth of the hero, a frequently recurring 
 motive, appears to mean that the birth and apparent childhood of the 
 hero are so extraordinary because his birth really means his rebirth, 
 therefore he becomes very quickly adapted to his hero role. Compare 
 below. I 
 
 " Battle of Re with the night serpent. 
 
 •* Matthew iii: 11. 
 
 " " Das Gilgameshepos in der Weltliteratur," Vol. I, p. 50. 
 
 *' The difference between this and the Mithra sacrifice seems to be 
 extraordinarily significant. The Dadophores are harmless gods of light 
 who do not participate in the sacrifice. The animal is lacking in the 
 sacrifice of Christ. Therefore there are two criminals who suffer the 
 same death. The scene is much more dramatic. The inner connection 
 
pp. 191-232] THE ORIGIN OF THE HERO 523 
 
 of the Dadophores to Mithra, of which I will speak later, allows us 
 to assume the same relation of Christ to the criminals. The scene with 
 Barabbas betrays that Christ is the god of the ending year, who is 
 represented by one of the thieves, while the one of the coming year is 
 free. 
 
 "For example, the following dedication is found on a monument: 
 D. I. M. (Deo Invicto Mithrae) Cautopati. One discovers sometimes 
 Deo Mithrae Caute or Deo Mithrae Cautopati in a similar alternation 
 as Deo Invicto Mithrae — or sometimes Deo Invicto — or, merely, Invicto. 
 It also appears that the Dadophores are fitted with knife and bow, the 
 attributes of Mithra. From this it is to be concluded that the three 
 figures represent three different states of a single person. Compare 
 Cumont: " Textes et Monuments," p. 208. 
 
 "Cited by Cumont: "Textes et Monuments," p. 208. 
 
 " Ibid. 
 
 *" Taurus and Scorpio are the equinoctial signs for the period from 
 4300 to 2150 B.C. These signs, long since superseded, were retained even 
 in the Christian era. 
 
 ** Under some circumstances, it is also sun and moon. 
 
 ** In order to characterize the individual and the all-soul, the personal 
 and the super-personal, Atman, a verse of the Shvetashvatara-Upanishad 
 (Deussen) makes use of the following comparison: 
 
 " Zwei schon beflijgelte verbundne Freunde 
 Umarmen einen und denselben Baum; 
 Einer von ihnen spelst die siisse Beere, 
 Der andre schaut, nicht essend, nur herab." 
 
 (Two closely allied friends, beautifully winged, embrace one 
 and the same tree; One of them eats the sweet berries, the other 
 not eating merely looks downwards.) 
 
 " Among the elements composing man, in the Mithraic liturgy, fire is 
 especially emphasized as the divine element, and described as to ctf 
 ifitjv Kpaaiv QcodupriTov (The divine gift in my composition). Dietfich: 
 Ibid., p. 58. 
 
 '* It is sufficient to point to the loving interest which mankind and 
 also the God of the Old Testament has for the nature of the penis, and 
 how much depends upon it. 
 
 *" The testicles easily count as twins. Therefore in vulgar speech 
 the testicles are called the Siamese twins. (" Anthropophyteia," VII, 
 p. 20. Quoted by Stekel: " Sprache des Traumes," p. 169.) 
 
 ** " Recherches sur le culte, etc., de Venus," Paris, 1837. Quoted by 
 Inraan: "Ancient Pagan and Modern Christian Symbolism," New York, 
 p. 4. 
 
 *' The androgynous element is not to be undervalued in the faces of 
 Adonis, Christ, Dionysus and Mithra, and hints at the bisexuality of the 
 libido. The smooth-shaven face and the feminine clothing of the Catholic 
 priest contain a very old female constituent from the Attis-Cybele cult. 
 
 '* Stekel ("Sprache des Traumes") has again and again noted the 
 Trinity as a phallic symbol. For example, see p. 27. 
 
524 SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER [pp. 233-306 
 
 *' Sun's rays = Phalli. 
 
 '" In a Bakairi myth a woman appears, who has sprung from a corn 
 mortar. In a Zulu myth it is said: A woman is to catch a drop of blood 
 in a vessel, then close the vessel, put it aside for eight months and open 
 it in the ninth month. She follows the advice, opens the vessel in the 
 ninth month, and finds a child in it. (Frobenius: "Das Zeitalter des 
 Sonnengottes " [The Age of the Sun-God], I, p. 237.) 
 
 " Inman: Ibid., p. 10, Plate IX. 
 
 '^Roscher: "Lexicon," Sp. 2733/4. See section. Men. 
 
 '^ A well-known sun animal, frequent as a phallic symbol. 
 
 '^ Like Mithra and the Dadophores. 
 
 "The castration in the service of the mother explains this quotation 
 in a very significant manner: Exod. iv:25: "Then Zipporah took a sharp 
 stone, and cut off her son's foreskin and cast it at his feet and said, 
 Surely, a bloody husband art thou to me." This passage shows what 
 circumcision means. 
 
 '* Gilgamesh, Dionysus, Hercules, Christ, Mithra, and so on. I 
 
 "Compare with this, Graf: " R. Wagner im Fliegenden Hollander: 
 Schriften zur angewandten Seelenkunde." 
 
 " I have pointed out above, in reference to the Zosimos vision, that 
 the altar meant the uterus, corresponding to the baptismal font. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 * Freud: "Dream Interpretation." 
 
 ' I am indebted to Dr. Abegg in Zurich for the knowledge of Indra and 
 Urvara, Domaldi and Rama. 
 
 ' Medieval Christianity also considered the Trinity as dwelling in the 
 womb of the holy Virgin. 
 
 ■•"Symbolism," Plate VIL 
 
 * Another form of the same motive is the Persian idea of the tree of 
 life, which stands in the lake of rain, Vourukasha. The seeds of this 
 tree were mixed with water and by that the fertility of the earth was 
 maintained. " Vendidad," 5, 57, says: The waters flow "to the lake 
 Vourukasha, down to the tree Hvapa; there my trees of many kinds all 
 grow. I cause these waters to rain down as food for the pure man, 
 as fodder for the well-born cow. (Impregnation, in terms of the pre- 
 sexual stage.) Another tree of life is the white Haoma, which grows 
 in the spring Ardvigura, the water of life." Spiegel: " Eran. Alter- 
 tumskunde," I, 465, 467. 
 
 ' Excellent examples of this are given in the work of Rank, " The 
 Myth of the Birth of the Hero," translated by Wm. White. 
 
 " Shadows probably mean the soul, the nature of which is the same as 
 libido. Compare with this Part I. 
 
 "But I must mention that Nork (" Realworterbuch," sub. Theben und 
 Schifi) pleads that Thebes is the ship city; his arguments are much 
 
'pp. 233-306] SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER 525 
 
 attacked. From among his arguments I emphasize a quotation from 
 Diodorus (I, 57), according to which Sesostris (whom Nork associates 
 with Xisuthros) had consecrated to the highest god in Thebes a vessel 
 280 els long. In the dialogue of Lucius (Apuleius: " Metam.," lib. II, 
 28), the night journey in the sea was used as an erotic figure of speech: 
 " Hac enim sitarchia navigium Veneris indiget sola, ut in nocte pervigili 
 et oleo lucerna et vino calix abundet" (For the ship of Venus needs 
 this provision in order that during the night the lamp may abound with 
 oil and the goblet with wine). The union of the coitus motive with 
 the motive of pregnancy is to be found in the " night journey on the 
 sea " of Osiris, who in his mother's womb copulated with his sister. 
 
 'Very illuminating psychologically is the method and the manner In 
 which Jesus treats his mother, when he harshly repels her. Just as 
 strong and intense as this, has the longing for her imago grown in his 
 unconscious. It is surely not an accident that the name Mary accom- 
 panies him through life. Compare the utterance of Matthew x:35: 
 " I have come to set a man at variance with his father, a daughter with 
 her mother. He who loves father and mother more than me is not 
 worthy of me." This directly hostile purpose, which calls to mind the 
 legendary role of Bertran de Born, is directed against the incestuous 
 bond and compels man to transfer his libido to the Saviour, who, dying, 
 returning into his mother and rising again, is the hero Christ. 
 
 " Genitals. 
 
 ** The horns of the dragon have the following attributes: "They will 
 prey upon woman's flesh and they will burn with fire." The horn, a 
 phallic emblem, is in the unicorn the symbol of the Holy Ghost (Logos). 
 The unicorn is hunted by the archangel Gabriel, and driven into the lap 
 of the Virgin, by which was understood the immaculate conception. But 
 the horns are also sun's rays, therefore the sun-gods are often horned. 
 The sun phallus is the prototype of the horn (sun wheel and phallus 
 wheel), therefore the horn is the symbol of power. Here the horns 
 "burn with fire" and prey upon the flesh; one recognizes in this a 
 representation of the pains of hell where souls were burnt by the fire 
 of the libido (unsatisfied longing). The harlot is "consumed" or 
 burned by unsatisfied longing (libido). Prometheus suffers a similar 
 fate, when the eagle, sun-bird (libido), tears his intestines: one might 
 also say, that he was pierced by the " horn." I refer to the phallic 
 meaning of the spear. 
 
 *' In the Babylonian underworld, for example. The souls have a 
 i feathery coat like birds. See the Gilgamesh epic. 
 
 " In a fourteenth-century Gospel at Bruges there is a miniature where 
 the "woman" lovely as the mother of God stands with half her body 
 in a dragon. 
 
 **rd apv'iov, little ram, diminutive of the obsolete ap^v z= ram. (In 
 Theophrastus It occurs with the meaning of "young scion.") The 
 related word apvi^ designates a festival annually celebrated in honor 
 of Linos, in which the Atvof, the lament called Linos, was sung as a 
 lamentation for Linos, the new-born son of Psamathe and Apollo, torn 
 to pieces by dogs. The mother had exposed her child out of fear of 
 iher father Krotopos. But for revenge Apollo sent a dragon, Poine, 
 into Krotopos' land. The oracle of Delphi commanded a yearly lament 
 by women and maidens for the dead Linos. A part of the honor was 
 
526 SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER [pp. 233-306 
 
 given to Psamathe. The Linos lament is, as Herodotus shows (II, 79), 
 identical with the Phoenician, Cyprian and Egyptian custom of the 
 Adonis- (Tammuz) lament. As Herodotus observes, Linos is called 
 Maneros in Egypt. Brugsch points out that Maneros comes from the 
 Egyptian cry of lamentation, maa-n-chru: "come to the call." Poine is 
 characterized by her tearing the children from the womb of all mothers. 
 This ensemble of motives is found again in the Apocalypse, xii:i-5, 
 where it treats of the woman, whose child was threatened by a dragon 
 but was snatched away into the heavens. The child-murder of Herod 
 19 an anthropomorphism of this " primitive " idea. The lamb means the 
 son. (See Brugsch: "Die Adonisklage und das LinosHed," Berlin 
 1852.) Dieterich (Abraxas: " Studien zur Religionsgeschichte des 
 spateren Altertums," 1891) refers for an explanation of this passage to 
 the myth of Apollo and Python, which he reproduces as follows: "To 
 Python, the son of earth, the great dragon, it was prophesied that the 
 son of Leto would kill him; Leto was pregnant by Zeus: but Hera 
 brought it about that she could give birth only there 'where the sun did 
 not shine. When Python saw that Leto was pregnant, he began to pursue 
 her in order to kill her, but Boreas brought Leto to Poseidon. The 
 latter brought her to Ortygia and covered the island with the waves of 
 the sea. When Python did not find Leto, he returned to Parnassus. 
 Leto brought forth upon the island thrown up by Poseidon. The fourth 
 day after the birth, Apollo took revenge and killed the P5^hon. The 
 birth upon the hidden island belongs to the motive of the " night journey 
 on the sea." The typical character of the " island phantasy " has for 
 the first time been correctly perceived by Riklin (1912 Jahrbuch, Vol. II, 
 p. 246). A beautiful parallel for this is to be found, together with the 
 necessary incestuous phantasy material, in H. de Vere Stacpool: "The 
 Blue Lagoon." A parallel to " Paul and Virginia." 
 
 *' Revelation xxi:2: "And the holy city, the new Jerusalem, I saw 
 coming down from the heaven of God, prepared as a bride adorned for 
 her bridegroom." 
 
 *• The legend of Saktideva, in Somadeva Bhatta, relates that the hero, 
 after he had escaped from being devoured by a huge fish (terrible 
 mother), finally sees the golden city and marries his beloved princess 
 (Frobenius, p. 175). 
 
 *' In the Apocryphal acts of St. Thomas (2nd century) the church is 
 taken to be the virgin mother-spouse of Christ. In an invocation of the 
 apostle, it is said: 
 
 Come, holy name of Christ, thou who art above all names. 
 
 Come, power of the highest and greatest mercy, 
 
 Come, dispenser of the greatest blessings. 
 
 Come, gracious mother. 
 
 Come, economy of the masculine. 
 
 Come, woman, thou who disclosest the hidden mysteries . . . 
 In another invocation it is said: 
 
 Come, greatest mercy. 
 
 Come, spouse (literally community) of the male. 
 
 Come, woman, thou who knowest the mystery of the elect, 
 
 Come, woman, thou who showest the hidden things 
 
 And who revealest the unspeakable things, holy 
 
 Dove, thou who bringest forth the twin nestliag, 
 
 Come, mysterious mother, etc. 
 
pp. 233-306] SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER 527 
 
 F. C. Conybeare: "Die jungfrauliche Kirche und die jungfrauliche 
 Mutter." Archiv fiir Religionsivissenschaft, IX, 77. The connection of 
 the church with the mother is not to be doubted, also the conception 
 of the mother as spouse. The virgin is necessarily introduced to hide 
 the incest idea. The " community with the male " points to the motive 
 of the continuous cohabitation. The " twin nestlings " refer to the old 
 legend, that Jesus and Thomas were twins. It plainly expresses the 
 motive of the Dioscuri. Therefore, doubting Thomas had to place his 
 finger in the wound at the side. Zinzendorf has correctly perceived the 
 sexual significance of this symbol that hints at the androgynous nature 
 of the primitive being (the libido). Compare the Persian legend of 
 the twin trees Meschia and Mechiane, as well as the motive of the 
 Dioscuri and the motive of cohabitation. 
 
 ** Compare Freud: "Dream Interpretation." Also Abraham: "Dreams 
 and Myths," pp. 22 f . 
 
 ^"Isaiah xlviii:i. "Hear ye this, O house of Jacob, which are called 
 by the name of Israel and are come forth out of the waters of Judah." 
 
 'Wirth: " Aus orientalischen Chroniken." — The Greek "Materia" is 
 vIti, which means wood and forest; it really means moist, from the 
 Indo-Germanic root su in vu, "to make wet, to have it rain"; verd^ 
 = rain; Iranian jw/A = sap, fruit, birth; Sanscrit jura = brandy; sutus ^= 
 pregnancy; sute, suyate=zt.o generate; sutas^= son; juraj = soma; wdf 
 = son; (Sanscrit, sunus; gothic, sunus). 
 
 ^KolfiTjfia means cohabitation, KOLfirjT^piov bedchamber, hence coemeterium 
 =: cemetery, enclosed fenced place. 
 
 *Nork: " Realworterbuch." 
 
 ' In a myth of Celebes, a dove maiden who was caught in the 
 manner of the swan maiden myth, was called Utahagi after a white 
 hair which grew on its crown and in which there was magic strength. 
 Frobenius, p. 307. 
 
 ^* Referring to the phallic symbolism of the finger, see the remarks 
 about the Dactyli, Part II, Chap. I: I mention at this place the following 
 from a Bakairi myth: " Nimagakaniro devoured two finger bones, many 
 of which were in the house, because Oka used them for his arrow heads 
 and killed many Bakairi whose flesh he ate. The woman became preg- 
 nant from the finger bone and only from this, not from Oka" (quoted 
 by Frobenius, p. 236). 
 
 ** Further proof for this in Prellwitz: " Griechische Etymologic." 
 
 ^'Siecke: "Der Gott Rudra in Rigveda": Archiv fiir Religionsiuissen- 
 schaft, Vol. I, p. 237. 
 
 *' The fig tree is the phallic tree. It is noteworthy that Dionysus 
 planted a fig tree at the entrance to Hades, just as " Phalli " are placed 
 on graves. The Cyprus tree consecrated to Aphrodite grew to be entirely 
 a token of death, because it was placed at the door of the house of 
 death. 
 
 ** Therefore the tree at times is also a representation of the sun. A 
 Russian riddle related to me by Dr. Van Ophuijsen reads: "What is 
 the tree which stands in the middle of the village and is visible in 
 
528 SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER [pp. 233-306 
 
 every cottage ? " Answer: "The sun and its light." A Norwegian riddle 
 reads: 
 
 " A tree stands on the mountain of Billings, 
 
 It bends over a lake, 
 
 Its branches shine like gold: 
 
 You won't guess that to-day. 
 In the evening the daughter of the sun collected the golden 
 branches, which had been broken from the wonderful oak. 
 
 Bitterly weeps the little sun 
 
 In the apple orchard. 
 
 From the apple tree has fallen 
 
 The golden apple, 
 
 Do not weep, little sun, 
 
 God will make another 
 
 Of gold, of bronze, of silver." 
 The picking of the apple from the paradise tree may be compared with 
 the fire theft, the drawing back of the libido from the mother. (See 
 the explanations which follow concerning the specific deed of the 
 hero.) 
 
 " The relation of the son to the mother was the psychologic basis of 
 many religions. In the Christian legend the relation of the son to the 
 mother is extraordinarily clear. Robertson ("Evangelical Myths") has 
 hit upon the relation of Christ to the Marys, and he conjectures that 
 this relation probably refers to an old myth " where a god of Palestine, 
 perhaps of the name Joshua, appears in the changing relation of lover 
 and son towards a mythical Mary. This is a natural process in the 
 oldest theosophy and one which appears with variations in the myths of 
 Mithra, Adonis, Attis, Osiris and Dionysus, all of whom were brought 
 into relation (or combination) with mother goddesses and who appear 
 either as a consort or a feminine eidolon in so far as the mothers and 
 consorts were identified as occasion offered." 
 
 "" Rank has pointed out a beautiful example of this in the myth of 
 the swan maiden. "Die Lohengrinsage: Schriften zur angewandten 
 Seelenkunde." 
 
 ^* Muther (" Geschichte der Malerei," Vol. II) says in the chapter: 
 "The First Spanish Classic": " Tieck once wrote: Sexuality is the great 
 mystery of our being. Sensuality is the first moving wheel in our 
 machinery. It stirs our being and makes it joyous and living. Every- 
 thing we dream of as beautiful and noble is included here. Sexuality 
 and sensuousness are the spirit of music, of painting and of all art. All 
 wishes of mankind rotate around this center like moths around a 
 burning light. The sense of beauty and the feeling for art are only 
 other expressions of it. They signify nothing more than the impulse 
 of mankind towards expression. I consider devoutness itself as a diverted 
 channel of the sexual desire." Here It is openly declared that one should 
 never forget when judging the ancient ecclesiastic art that the effort 
 to efface the boundaries between earthly and divine love, to blend them 
 into each other imperceptibly, has always been the guiding thought, the 
 strongest factor in the propaganda of the Catholic church. 
 
 '^ We will not discuss here the reasons for the strength of the phantasy. 
 But it does not seem difficult to me to imagine what sort of powers are 
 hidden behind the above formula. 
 
pp. 233-306] SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER 529 
 
 '^ Lactantius says: "When all know that it is customary for certain 
 animals to conceive through wind and breath of air, why should any one 
 consider it miraculous for a virgin to be impregnated by the spirit of 
 God?" Robertson: " Evang. Myth.," p. 31. 
 
 "* Therefore the strong emphasis upon affiliation in the New Testament. 
 
 *' The mystic feelings of the nearness of God; the so-called personal 
 inner experience. 
 
 *° The sexual mawkishness is everywhere apparent in the lamb sym- 
 bolism and the spiritual love-songs to Jesus, the bridegroom of the soul. 
 
 " Usener: " Der heilige Tychon," 1907. 
 
 ''Compare W. P. Knight: "Worship of Priapus." 
 
 " Or in the compensating organizations, which appear in the place of 
 religion. 
 
 *" The condition was undoubtedly ideal for early times, where man- 
 kind was more infantile in general: and it still is ideal for that part 
 of humanity which is infantile; how large is that part! 
 
 ** Compare Freud: Jahrbuch, Vol. Ill, p. i. 
 
 ** Here it is not to be forgotten we are moving entirely in the territory 
 of psychology, which in no way is allied to transcendentalism, either in 
 positive or negative relation. It is a question here of a relentless fulfil- 
 ment of the standpoint of the theory of cognition, established by Kant, not 
 merely for the theory, but, what is more important, for the practice. One 
 should avoid playing with the infantile image of the world, because all 
 this tends only to separate man from his essential and highest ethical 
 goal, moral autonomy. The religious symbol should be retained after 
 the inevitable obliteration of certain antiquated fragments, as postulate 
 or as transcendent theory, and also as taught in precepts, but is to be 
 filled with new meaning according to the demand of the ' culture of 
 the present day. But this theory must not become for the "adult" a 
 positive creed, an illusion, which causes reality to appear to him in a 
 false light. Just as man is a dual being, having an intellectual and 
 an animal nature, so does he appear to need two forms of reality, the 
 reality of culture, that is, the symbolic transcendent theory, and the 
 reality of nature which corresponds to our conception of the " true 
 reality." In the same measure that the true reality is merely a figurative 
 interpretation of the appreciation of reality, the religious symbolic theory 
 is merely a figurative interpretation of certain endopsychic apperceptions. 
 But one very essential difference is that a transcendental support, inde- 
 pendent in duration and condition, is assured to the transubjective reality 
 through the best conceivable guarantees, while for the psychologic phe- 
 nomena a transcendental support of subjective limitation and weakness 
 must be recognized as a result of compelling empirical data. Therefore 
 true reality is one that is relatively universally valid; the psychologic 
 reality, on the contrary, is merely a functional phenomenon contained 
 in an epoch of human civilization. Thus does it appear to-day from 
 the best informed empirical standpoint. If, however, the psychologic 
 were divested of its character of a biologic epiphenomenon in a manner 
 neither known nor expected by me, and thereby was given the place of 
 a physical entity, then the psychologic reality would be resolved into 
 the true reality; or much more, it would be reversed, because then the 
 
530 SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER [pp. 233-306 
 
 psychologic would lay claim to a greater worth, for the ultimate theory, 
 because of its directness. 
 
 " " De Isid. et Osir." 
 
 "Erman: "Aegypten," p. 360. 
 
 *' Here I must again recall that I give to the word " incest " more sig- 
 nificance than properly belongs to the term. Just as libido is the onward 
 driving force, so incest is in some manner the backward urge into child- 
 hood. For the child, it cannot be spoken of as incest. Only for the adult 
 who possesses a completely formed sexuality does the backward urge be- 
 come incest, because he is no longer a child but possesses a sexuality 
 which cannot be permitted a regressive application. 
 
 *' Compare Frobenius: "Das Zeitalter des Sonnengottes." 
 
 *' Compare the " nightmare legends " in which the mare is a beautiful 
 woman. 
 
 *' This recalls the phallic columns placed in the temples of Astarte. 
 In fact, according to one version, the wife of the king was named 
 Astarte. This symbol brings to mind the crosses, fittingly called iyKST^nia 
 (pregnant crosses), which conceal a secret reliquary. 
 
 ■" Spielrein {Jahrbuch, Vol. Ill, p. 358) points out numerous indica- 
 tions of the motive of dismemberment in a demented patient. Fragments 
 of the most varied things and materials were "cooked" or "burnt." 
 "The ash can become man." The patient saw children dismembered 
 in glass coffins. In addition, the above-mentioned "washing," "cleaning," 
 "cooking" and "burning" has, besides the coitus motive, also the 
 pregnancy motive; the latter probably in a predominating measure. 
 
 '" Later offshoots of this primitive theory of the origin of children are 
 contained in the doctrines of Karma, and the conception of the Mendelian 
 theory of heredity is not far off. One only has to realize that all apper- 
 ceptions are subjectively conditioned. 
 
 '* Demeter assembled the limbs of the dismembered Dionysus and 
 from them produced the god anew. 
 
 '^Compare Diodorus: III, 62. 
 
 "' Yet to be added is the fact that the cynocephalic Anubis as the 
 restorer of the corpse of Osiris (also genius of the dog star) had a com- 
 pensatory significance. In this significance he appears upon many sar- 
 cophagi. The dog is also a regular companion of the healing Asclepius. 
 The following quotation from Petronius best supports the Creuzer 
 hypothesis (" Sat.," c. 71) : " Valde te rogo, ut secundum pedes statuae meae 
 catellam pingas — ut mihi contingat tuo beneficio post mortem vivere " (I 
 beseech you instantly to fasten beside the feet of my statue a dog, so 
 that because of your beneficence I may attain to life after death). See 
 Nork: Ibid., about dog.) 
 
 Moreover, the relation of the dog to the dog-headed Hecate, the goddess 
 of the underworld, hints at its being the symbol of rebirth. She received 
 as Canicula a sacrificial dog to keep away the pest. Her close relation 
 to Artemis as goddess of the moon permits her opposition to fertility 
 to be glimpsed. Hecate is also the first to bring to Demeter the news 
 of her stolen child (the role of Anubis!). Also the goddess of birth 
 Ilithyia received sacrifices of dogs, and Hecate herself is, on occasions, 
 goddess of marriage and birth. 
 
pp. 233-306] SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER 531 
 
 '^ Frobenius (Ibid., p. 393) observes that frequently the gods of fire 
 (sun-heroes) lack a member. He gives the following parallel: "Just 
 as the god wrenches out an arm from the ogre (giant), so does Odysseus 
 pluck out the eye of the noble Polyphemus, whereupon the sun creeps up 
 mysteriously into the sky. Might the fire-making, twisting and wrenching 
 out of the arm be connected.?" This question is by this clearly illumined 
 if we assume, corresponding to the train of thought of the ancients, that 
 the wrenching out of the arm is really a castration. (The symbol of 
 the robbery of the force of life.) It is an act corresponding to the Attis 
 castration because of the mother. From this renunciation, which is really 
 a symbolic mother incest, arises the discovery of fire, as previously we 
 have already suspected. Moreover, mention must be made of the fact 
 that to wrench out an arm, means first of all merely "overpowering," 
 and on that account can happen to the hero as well as to his opponent. 
 (Compare, for examples, Frobenius: Ibid., pp. 112, 395.) 
 
 Compare especially the description of the cup of Thebes. 
 
 Professor Freud has expressed in a personal discussion the idea that 
 a further determinate for the motive of the dissimilar brothers is to be 
 found in the elementary observance towards birth and the after-birth. 
 It is an exotic custom to treat the placenta as a child! 
 
 ^^Brugsch: "Religion und Mythologie der alten Aegypter," p. 354. 
 
 "Ibid., p. 310. 
 
 "" In the conception of Atman there is a certain fluid quality in so 
 far as he really can be identified with Purusha of the Rigveda. " Purusha 
 covers all the places of the earth, flowing about it ten fingers high." 
 
 '"Brugsch: Ibid., p. 112. 
 
 '^ In Thebes, where the chief god is Chnum, the latter represents the 
 breath of the wind in his cosmic component, from which later on " the 
 spirit of God floating over the waters " has developed ; the primitive idea 
 of the cosmic parents, who lie pressed together until the son separates 
 them. (Compare the symbolism of Atman above.) 
 
 '^Brugsch: Ibid., p. 128. 
 
 *' Servian song from Grimm's " Mythology," II, p. 544. 
 
 ** Frobenius: Ibid. 
 
 " Compare the birth of the Germanic Aschanes, where rock, tree and 
 water are present at the scene of birth. Chidher too was found sitting 
 on the earth, the ground around covered with flowers. 
 
 °° Most singularly even in this quotation, V. 288, the description is 
 found of Sleep sitting high up in a pine tree. " There he sat surrounded 
 by branches covered with thorny leaves, like the singing bird, who by 
 night flutters through the mountains." It appears as if the motive belongs 
 to a hierosgamos. Compare also the magic net with which Hephaestos 
 enfolds Ares and Aphrodite " in flagranti " and kept them for the sport 
 of the gods. 
 
 " The rite of enchaining the statues of Hercules and the Tyrian Mel- 
 karth is related to this also. The Cabiri too were wrapt in coverings. 
 Creuzer: " Symbolik," II, 350. 
 
 ^'Fick: " Indogermanisches Worterbuch," I, p. 132. 
 
532 SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER [pp. 233-306 
 
 '* Compare the " resounding sun." 
 
 '"' The motive of the " striking rocks " belongs also to the motive of 
 devouring (Frobenius: Ibid., p. 405). The hero in his ship must pass 
 between two rocks which strike together. (Similar to the biting door, 
 to the tree trunk which snaps together.) In the passage, generally the 
 tail of the bird is pinched off (or the "poop" of the ship, etc.); the 
 castration motive is once more clearly revealed here, for the castration 
 takes the place of mother incest. The castration is a substitution for 
 coitus. Scheffel employs this idea in his well-known poem: "A herring 
 loved an oyster, etc." The poem ends with the oyster biting off the 
 herring's head for a kiss. The doves which bring Zeus ambrosia have 
 also to pass through the rocks which strike together. The "doves" 
 bring the food of immortality to Zeus by means of incest (entrance into 
 the mother) very similar to Freya's apples (breasts). Frobenius also 
 mentions the rocks or caves which open only at a magic word and are 
 very closely connected with the rocks which strike together. Most 
 illuminating in this respect is a South African myth (Frobenius, p. 407): 
 "One must call the rock by name and cry loudly: Rock Utunjambili, 
 open, so that I may enter." But the rock answers when it will not open 
 to the call. "The rock will not open to children, it will open to the 
 swallows which fly in the air! " The remarkable thing is, that no human 
 power can open the rock, only a formula has that power — or a bird. 
 This wording merely says that the opening of the rock is an undertaking 
 which cannot really be accomplished, but which one wishes to accom- 
 plish. 
 
 (In Middle High German, to wish is really "to have the power to 
 create something extraordinary.") When a man dies, then only the 
 wish that he might live* remains, an unfulfilled wish, a fluttering wish, 
 wherefore souls are birds. The soul is wholly only libido, as is illus- 
 trated in many parts of this work; it is "to wish." Thus the helpful 
 bird, who assists the hero in the whale to come again into the light, 
 who opens the rocks, is the wish for rebirth. (For the bird as 
 a wish, see the beautiful painting by Thoma, where the youth longingly 
 stretches out his arms to the birds who pass over his head.) 
 
 "Grimm: "Mythology," I, p. 474. 
 
 " In Athens there was a family of Alyeipdrofioc =: hewn from poplars. 
 
 "Hermann: " Nordische Mythologie," p. 589. 
 
 '* Javanese tribes commonly set up their images of God in an artificial 
 cavity of a tree. This fits in with the " little hole " phantasy of Zinzen- 
 dorf and his sect. See Pfister: " Frommigkeit des Graf en von Zinzendorf." 
 In a Persian myth, the white Haoma is a divine tree, growing in the 
 lake Vourukasha, the fish Khar-mahi circles protectingly around it and 
 defends it against the toad Ahriman. It gives eternal life, children to 
 women, husbands to girls and horses to men. In the Minokhired the tree 
 is called "the preparer of the corpse" (Spiegel: " Eran. Altertumskunde," 
 II, 115). 
 
 '° Ship of the sun, which accompanies the sun and the soul over the 
 sea of death to the rising. 
 
 '^^Brugsch: Ibid., p. 177. 
 
 " Similarly Isaiah H: i: ". . . look unto the rock whence ye are hewn, 
 and to the hole of the pit whence ye are digged." Further proof is found 
 
pp. 233-306] SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER 533 
 
 in A. von Lowis of Menar: " Nordkaukasische Steingeburtssagen,'" Arc/iiv 
 fiir Reliffionsivissenschaff, XIII, p. 509. 
 
 "Grimm: "Mythology," I, p. 474. 
 
 '' " Das Kreuz Christi. Rel.-hist.-kirchl.-archaeol. Untersuchungen," 
 1875- 
 
 *" The legend of Seth is found in Jubinal: " Mysteres inedits du XV. 
 siecle," Part II, p. 16. Quoted from Zockler: Ibid., p. 241. 
 
 " The guilt is as always, whenever possible, thrown upon the mother. 
 The Germanic sacred trees are also under the law of an absolute taboo: 
 no leaf may be taken from them, and nothing may be picked from the 
 ground upon which their shadows fall. 
 
 '^According to the German legend (Grimm: Vol. II, p. 809), the 
 redeeming hero will be born when the tree, which now grows as a weak 
 shoot from the wall, has become large, and when from its wood the 
 cradle can be made in which the hero can be rocked. The formula 
 reads: "A linden shall be planted, which shall bear on high two boughs 
 from the wood of which a " poie " shall be made; the child who will 
 be the first to lie therein is destined to be taken by the sword from life 
 to death, and then salvation will enter in." In the Germanic legends, 
 the appearance of a future event is connected most remarkably with a 
 budding tree. Compare with this the designation of Christ as a " branch " 
 or a " rod." 
 
 '^Herein the motive of the "helpful bird" is apparent. Angels are 
 really birds. Compare the bird clothing of the souls of the underworld, 
 " soul birds." In the sacrificium Mithriacum the messenger of the gods 
 (the " angel ") is a raven, the winged Hermes, etc. 
 
 ** See Frobenius: Ibid. 
 
 *' The close connection between 6eX<j>ig := Dolphin and 6el(pvq = uterus is 
 emphasized. In Delphi there is the cavity in the earth and the Tripod 
 6E'k(pivLg ^ a delphic table with three feet in the form of a Dolphin). 
 See in the last chapter Melicertes upon the Dolphin and the fiery 
 sacrifice of Melkarth. 
 
 '* See the comprehensive collection of Jones. On the nightmare. 
 
 *'Riklin: "Wish Fulfilment and Symbolism in Fairy Tales." 
 
 **Laistner: "Das Ratsel der Sphinx." 
 
 "Freud: Jahrbuch, Vol. I, June: "Mental Conflicts in Children": Col- 
 lected Papers on Analytical Psychology. 
 
 *" " Epistola de ara ad Noviomagum reperta," p. 25. Quoted by 
 Grimm: "Mythology," Vol. II. 
 
 '* Grimm: Ibid., Vol. II, p. 1041. 
 
 " Compare with that the horses whose tread causes springs to flow. 
 
 *^ Compare Herrmann: " Nord. Myth.," p. 64, and Fick: " Vergleich. 
 Worterb. d. indogerm. Sprache," Vol. I. 
 
 ** Parallel is the mantic significance of the delphic chasm, Mimir's 
 brook, etc. " Abyss of Wisdom," see last chapter. Hippolytos, with whom 
 
534 SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER [pp. 233-306 
 
 his stepmother was enamoured, was placed after death with the wise 
 nymph, Egeria. 
 
 "Example in Bertschinger : Jahrbuch, Vol. Ill, Part I. 
 
 "Compare the exotic myths given by Frobenius ("Zeitalter des Son- 
 nengottes"), where the belly of the whale is clearly the land of death. 
 
 " One of the fixed peculiarities of the Mar is that he can only get 
 out of the hole, through which he came in. This motive belongs evi- 
 dently as the projected wish motive in the rebirth myth. 
 
 "'According to Gressmann: " Altorient. Text, und Bild.," Vol. I, p. 4. 
 
 ** Abyss of wisdom, book of wisdom, source of phantasies. See below. 
 
 ""Cleavage of the mother, see Kalneus; also rift, chasm =: division 
 of the earth, and so on. 
 
 *"* " Schopfung und Chaos." Gottingen, 1895, p. 30. 
 
 "'Brugsch: Ibid., p. 161. 
 
 *"' In a Pyramid text, which depicts the battle of the dead Pharaoh 
 for the dominance of heaven, it reads: Heaven weeps, the stars tremble, 
 the guards of the gods tremble and their servants flee, when they see 
 the king rise as a spirit, as a god, who lives upon his fathers and 
 conquers his mothers." Cited by Dieterich: " Mithrasliturgy," p. 100. 
 
 "- Book II, p. 61. 
 
 ^''By Ares, the Egyptian Typhon is probably meant. 
 
 *°° In the Polynesian Maui myth, the act of the sun-hero is very plain: 
 he robs his mother of her girdle. The robbery of the veil in myths of 
 the type of the swan maiden has the same significance. In an African 
 myth of Joruba, the sun-hero simply ravishes his mother (Frobenius). 
 
 *"' The previously mentioned myth of Halirrhotios, who destroyed 
 himself when he wished to cut down the holy tree of Athens, the Moria, 
 contains the same psychology, also the priestly castration (Attis castra- 
 tion) in the service of the great mother. The ascetic self-torture in 
 Christianity has its origin, as is self-evident, in these sources because the 
 Christian form of symbol means a very intensive regression to the 
 mother incest. 
 
 *"* The tearing off from the tree of life is just this sin. 
 
 "'Compare Kuhn: " Herabkunft des Feuers." 
 
 ""Nork: " Worterbuch s. v. Mistel." 
 
 *** Therefore in England mistletoe boughs were hung up at Christmas. 
 Mistletoe as rod of life. Compare Aigremont: " Volkserotik und 
 Pflanzenwelt." 
 
 *" Just as the tree has the phallic nature as well as a maternal sig- 
 nificance, so in myths the demonic old woman (she may be favorable 
 or malicious) often has phallic attributes, for example, a long toe, a 
 long tooth, long lips, long fingers, pendulous breasts, large hands, feet, 
 and so on. This mixture of male and female motive has reference to 
 the fact that the old woman is a libido symbol like the tree, generally 
 determined as maternal. The bisexuality of the libido is expressed in 
 
 i 
 
pp. 233-306] SYMBOLISM OF THE MOTHER 535 
 
 its clearest form in the idea of the three witches, who collectively pos- 
 sessed but one eye and one tooth. This idea is directly parallel to the 
 dream of a patient, who represented her libido as twins, one of which 
 is a box, the other a bottle-like object, for eye and tooth represent male 
 and female genitals. Relative to eye in this connection, see especially 
 the Egyptian myths: referring to tooth, it is to be observed that Adonis 
 (fecundity) died by a boar's tooth, like Siegfried by Hagen's spear: 
 compare with this the Veronese Priapus, whose phallus was bitten by a 
 snake. Tooth in this sense, like the snake, is a " negative " phallus. 
 
 ^''Compare Grimm: Vol. II, Chap, iv, p. 802. The same motive in 
 another application is found in a Low-Saxon legend: Once a young ash 
 tree grew unnoticed in the wood. Each New Year's Eve a white knight 
 upon a white horse rides up to cut down the young shoot. At the same 
 time a black knight arrives and engages him in combat. After a lengthy 
 conflict, the white knight succeeds in overcoming the black knight and 
 the white knight cuts down the young tree. But sometime the white 
 knight will be unsuccessful, then the ash will grow, and when it becomes 
 large enough to allow a horse to be tied under it, then a powerful king 
 will come and a tremendous battle will occur (destruction of the world). 
 
 "* Chantepie de la Saussaye: "Lehrbuch der Religionsgeschichte," Vol. 
 II, p. 185. 
 
 *" Further examples in Frobenius: Ibid., passim. 
 
 *^' See Jensen: " Gilgameshepos." 
 
 "^ In a Schlesian passionale of the fifteenth centary Christ dies on the 
 same tree which was connected with Adam's sin. Cited from Zockler: 
 Ibid., p. 241. 
 
 *^* For example, animal skins were hung on the sacrificial trees and 
 afterwards spears were thrown at them. 
 
 »»» << Geschichte der amerikanischen Urreligionen," p. 498. 
 
 ""Stephens: "Central America" (cited by Miiller: Ibid., p. 498). 
 
 "'Zockler: "Das Kreuz Christi," p. 34. 
 
 *^^ H. H. Bancroft: "Native Races of the Pacific States of North 
 America," II, 506. (Cited by Robertson: " Evang. Myths," p. 139.) 
 
 '"Rossellini: " Monumenti dell' Egitto, etc." Tom. 3. Tav. 23. 
 (Cited by Robertson: Ibid., p. 142. 
 
 '^'' Zockler: Ibid., p. 7. In the representation of the birth of a king 
 in Luxor one sees the following: The logos and messenger of the gods, 
 the bird-headed Thoth, makes known to the maiden Queen Mautmes 
 that she is to give birth to a son. In the following scene, Kneph and 
 Athor hold the Crux ansata to her mouth so that she may be impreg- 
 nated by this in a spiritual (symbolic) manner. Sharp: "Egyptian 
 Mythology," p. 18. (Cited by Robertson: "Evangelical Myths," p. 43.) 
 
 '^' The statues of the phallic Hermes used as boundary stones were 
 often in the form of a cross with the head pointed (W. Payne Knight: 
 " V^orship of Priapus," p. 30). In Old English the cross is called 
 rod. 
 
 '^'Robertson (Ibid., p. 140) mentions the fact that the Mexican priests 
 and sacrificers clothed themselves in the skin of a slain woman, and 
 
536 BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE [pp. 307-340 
 
 placed themselves with arms stretched out like a cross before the god 
 of war. 
 
 "' " Indian Antiquities," VI, 49. 
 
 *^* The primitive Egyptian cross form is meant: T. 
 
 *^"Z6ckler: Ibid., p. 19. The bud is plainly phallic. See the above- 
 mentioned dream of the young woman. 
 
 *^" I am indebted for my information about these researches to Pro- 
 fessor Fiechter of Stuttgart. 
 
 "*Z6ckler: Ibid., p. 33. 
 
 ^^'^ The sacrifice is submerged in the water, that is, in the mother. 
 
 '^' Compare later the moon as gathering place of souls (the devour- 
 ing mother). 
 
 ^'^ Compare here what Abraham has to say in reference to pupilla 
 ("Dreams and Myths"). 
 
 ^'^ Retreat of Re upon the heavenly cow. In a Hindoo rite of purifica- 
 tion, the penitent must creep through an artificial cow in order to be 
 born anew. 
 
 ^^^ Schultze: " Psychologie der Naturvolker." Leipzig 1900, p. 338. 
 
 *"Brugsch: Ibid., p. 290. 
 
 *'* One need not be amazed at this formula because it is the animal 
 in us, the primitive forces of which appear in religion. In this con- 
 nection Dieterich's words (" Mithrasliturgie," p. 108) take on an espe- 
 cially important aspect. " The old thoughts come from beloiv in new 
 force in the history of religion. The revolution from below creates a 
 new life of religion in primitive indestructible forms." 
 
 ^''Dispute between Mary and the Cross in R. Morris: "Legends of the 
 Holy Rood." London 1871. 
 
 **° A very beautiful representation of the blood-red sun sinking into 
 the sea. 
 
 ^"^ Jesus appears here as branch and bud in the tree of life. Compare 
 here the interesting reference in Robertson: "Evangelical Myths," p. 51, 
 in regard to "Jesus, the Nazarene," a title which he derives from 
 Nazar or Netzer = branch. 
 
 ^"^ In Greece, the pale of torture, on which the criminal was stretched 
 or punished, was termed eKarr/ (Hecate), the subterranean mother of 
 death. 
 
 *"Diez: " Etym. Worterbuch der romanischen Sprachen," p. 90. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 * Witches easily change themselves into horses, therefore the nail- 
 marks of the horseshoe may be seen upon their hands. The devil 
 rides on witch-horses, priests' cooks are changed after death into horses, 
 etc. Negelein, Zeitschrift des Vereines fur Volkskunde, XI, p. 406. 
 
pp. 307-340] BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 537 
 
 ^ Just so does the mythical ancient king Tahmuraht ride upon Ahriman, 
 the devil. 
 
 ^ The she-asses and their foals might belong to the Christian sun myth, 
 because the Zodiacal sign Cancer (Summer solstice) was designated in 
 antiquity as an ass and its young. (Compare Robertson: "Evangelical 
 Myths," p. 19.) 
 
 * Also a centaur. 
 
 ^ Compare the exhaustive presentation of this theme in Jahn's " Ross 
 und Reiter." 
 
 ° Sleipnir is eight-footed. 
 
 'Negelein: Ibid., p. 412. 
 
 'Negelein: Ibid., p. 419. 
 
 ^ I have since learned of a second exactly similar case. 
 
 "Preller: " Griech. Mythologie," I, I, p. 432. 
 
 " See further examples in Aigremont: "Fuss- und Schuhsymbolik." 
 
 ^^Aigremont: Ibid., p. 17. 
 
 "Negelein: Ibid., p. 386. 
 
 ^■* Ample proofs of the Centaurs as wind gods are to be found in 
 E. H. Meyer: " Indogermanische Mythen," p. 447. 
 
 ^^ This is an especial motive, which must have something typical in 
 it. My patient ("Psychology of Dementia Praecox," p. 165) also 
 declared that her horses had "half-moons" under their skin, like 
 " little curls." In the songs of Rudra of the Rigveda, of the boar Rudra 
 it is said that his hair was "wound up in the shape of shells." Indra's 
 body is covered with eyes. 
 
 " This change results from a world catastrophe. In mythology the 
 verdure and the upward striving of the tree of life signify also the 
 turning-point in the succession of the ages. 
 
 ^' Therefore the lion was killed by Samson, who later harvested the 
 honey from the body. The end of summer is the plenteousness of the 
 autumn. It is a close parallel to the sacrificium Mithriacum. For 
 Samson, see Steinthal: "Die Sage von Simson," Zeitschrift fur Vblker- 
 psych.," Vol. II. 
 
 ^'Philo: "In Genesim," I, 100. (Cited by Cumont: " Textes et 
 Monuments," I, p. 82.) 
 
 ^"Spiegel: " Eran. Altertumskunde," Vol. II, p. 193. In the writings 
 ascribed to Zoroaster, Tlepl ^iaeug, the Ananke, the necessity of fate, is 
 represented by the air. Cumont: Ibid., I, p. 87. 
 
 " Spielrein's patient {Jahrbuch, III, p. 394) speaks of horses, who 
 eat men, also exhumed bodies. 
 
 ^'Negelein: Ibid., p. 416. 
 
 ^' P. Thomas a Villanova Wegener: "Das wunderbare aussere und 
 innere Leben der Dienerin Gottes Anna Catherina Emmerich." Diilmen 
 i. W. 1891. 
 
538 BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE [pp. 307-340 
 
 '' The heart of the mother of God is pierced by a sword. 
 
 ^* Corresponding to the idea in Psalm xi:2, "For lo, the wicked bend 
 their bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may 
 privily shoot at the upright in heart." 
 
 *" K. E. Neumann: "The Speeches of Gautama Buddha," translated 
 from the German collection of the fragments of Suttanipato of the 
 Pali-Kanon. Miinchen 1911. 
 
 ^° With the same idea of an endogenous pain Theocritus (27, 28) 
 calls the birth throes "Arrows of the Ilithyia." In the sense of a 
 wish the same comparison is found in Jesus Sirach 19:12. "When 
 a word penetrates a fool it is the same as if an arrow pierced his loins." 
 That is to say, it gives him no rest until It is out. 
 
 *' One might be tempted to say that these were merely figuratively 
 expressed coitus scenes. But that would be a little too strong and an 
 unjustifiable accentuation of the material at issue. We cannot forget 
 that the saints have, figuratively, taught the painful domestification of 
 the brute. The result of this, which is the progress of civilization, has 
 also to be recognized as a motive for this action. 
 
 ^* Apuleius ("Metam.," Book II, 31) made use of the symbolism 
 of bow and arrow in a very drastic manner, " Ubi primam sagittam 
 saevi Cupidinis in ima praecordia mea delapsam excepi, arcum meum 
 en! Ipse vigor attendit et oppido formido, ne nervus rigoris nimietate 
 rumpatur " (-When I pulled out the first arrow of fierce Cupid that had 
 entered into my inmost breast, behold my bow ! Its very vigor stretches 
 it and makes me fear lest the string be broken by the excessive tautness). 
 
 ^* Thus the plague-bringing Apollo. In Old High German, arrow is 
 called " strala " {stra/ilen = rays). 
 
 '" Spielrein's patient {Jahrbuch, III, p. 371) has also the idea of the 
 cleavage of the earth in a similar connection. " Iron is used for the 
 purpose of penetrating into the earth. . . . with iron man can . . . 
 create men . . . the earth is split, burst open, man is divided ... is 
 severed and reunited. In order to make an end of the burial of the 
 living, Jesus Christ calls his disciples to penetrate into the earth." 
 
 The motive of "cleavage" is of general significance. The Persian 
 hero Tishtriya, who also appeared as a white horse, opens the rain 
 lake, and thus makes the earth fruitful. He is called Tir = arrow. 
 He was also represented as feminine, with a bow and arrow. Mithra 
 with his arrow shot the water from the rock, so as to end the drought. 
 The knife is sometimes found stuck in the earth. In Mithraic monuments 
 sometimes it is the sacrificial instrument which kills the bull. (Cumont: 
 Ibid., pp. lis, 116, 165.) 
 
 ** Spielrein's patient also states that she has been shot through by 
 God. (3 shots:) "then came a resurrection of the spirit." This is the 
 symbolism of introversion. 
 
 "^ This is also represented mythologically in the legend of Theseus 
 and Peirithoos, who wished to capture the subterranean Proserpina. 
 With this aim they enter a chasm in the earth in the grove Kolonos, 
 in order to get down to the underworld; when they were below they 
 wished to rest, but being enchanted they hung on the rocks, that is to 
 say, they remained fixed in the mother and were therefore lost for the 
 
pp. 307-340] BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 539 
 
 upperworld. Later Theseus was freed by Hercules (revenge of Horus 
 for Osiris), at which time Hercules appears in the role of the death- 
 conquering hero. 
 
 ^^ This formula applies most directly to dementia praecox. 
 
 °* See Roscher: s. v. Philoktetes, Sp. 2318, 15. 
 
 '" When the Russian sun-hero Oleg stepped, on the skull of the slain 
 horse, a serpent came out of it and bit him on the foot. Then he became 
 sick and died. When Indra in the form of Qyena, the falcon, stole the 
 soma drink, Kriqanu, the herdsman, wounded him in his foot with his 
 arrow ("Rigveda," I, 155; IV, 322). 
 
 '" Similar to the Lord of the Grail who guards the chalice, the mother 
 symbol. The myth of Philoctetes is taken from a more involved connec- 
 tion, the Hercules myth. Hercules has two mothers, the benevolent 
 Alcmene and the pursuing Hera (Lamia), from whose breast he has 
 absorbed immortality. Hercules conquered Hera's serpent while yet 
 in the cradle; that is to say, conquered the "terrible mother," the Lamia. 
 But from time to time Hera sent to him attacks of madness, in one of 
 which he killed his children (Lamia motive). According to an inter- 
 esting tradition, this deed occurred at the moment when Hercules 
 refused to perform a great act in the service of Eurystheus. As a result 
 of the refusal, the libido, in readiness for the work, regressed in a 
 typical manner to the unconscious mother-imago, which resulted in 
 madness (as to-day), during which Hercules identifies himself with 
 Lamia (Hera) and murders his own children. The delphic oracle 
 communicates to him the fact that he is named Hercules because he owes 
 his immortal fame to Hera, who through her persecution compelled him 
 to great deeds. It can be seen that "the great deed" really means the 
 conquering of the mother and through her to win immortality. His 
 characteristic weapon, the club, he cuts from the maternal olive tree. 
 Like the sun, he possessed the arrows of Apollo. He conquered the 
 Nemean lion in his cave, which has the signification of " the grave in 
 the mother's womb" (see the end of this chapter). Then follows the 
 combat with the Hydra, the typical battle with the dragon; the complete 
 conquering of the mother. (See below.) Following this, the capture 
 of the Cerynean doe, whom he wounded with an arrow in the foot. 
 This is what generally happens to the hero, but here it is reversed. 
 Hercules showed the captured Erymanthian boar to Eurystheus, where- 
 upon the latter in fear crept into a cask. That is, he died. The 
 Stymphalides, the Cretan bull, and the man-devouring horse of Diomedes 
 are symbols of the devastating powers of death, among which the latter's 
 relation to the mother may be recognized especially. The battle for 
 the precious girdle of the Amazon queen Hippolyte permits us to see 
 once more very clearly the shadow of the mother. Hippolyte is ready 
 to give up the girdle, but Hera, changing herself into the form of 
 Hippolyte, calls the Amazons against Hercules in battle. (Compare 
 Horus, fighting for the head ornament of Isis, about which there is 
 more later. Chap. 7.) The liberation of Hesione results from Her- 
 cules journeying downwards with his ship into the belly of the monster, 
 and killing the monster from within after three days labor. (Jonah 
 motive; Christ in the tomb or in hell; the victory over death by creeping 
 into the womb of the mother, and its destruction in the form of the 
 mother. The libido in the form of the beautiful maiden again con- 
 quered.) The expedition to Erythia is a parallel to Gilgamesh, also to 
 
540 BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE [pp. 307-340 
 
 Moses in the Koran, whose goal was the confluence of the two seas: 
 it is the journey of the sun to the Western sea, where Hercules discov- 
 ered the straits of Gibraltar ("to that passage": Faust), and with the 
 ship of Helios set out towards Erythia. There he overcame the gigantic 
 guardian Eurytion (Chumbaba in the Gilgamesh epic, the symbol of 
 the father), then the triune Geryon (a monster of phallic libido sym- 
 bolism), and at the same time wounded Hera, hastening to the help 
 of Geryon by an arrow shot. Then the robbery of the herd followed. 
 "The treasure attained with difficulty" is here presented in surroundings 
 which make it truly unmistakable. Hercules, like the sun, goes to 
 death, down into the mother (Western sea), but conquers the libido 
 attached to the mother and returns with the wonderful kine; he has 
 won back his libido, his life, the mighty possession. We discover the 
 same thought in the robbery of the golden apples of Hesperides, which 
 are defended by the hundred-headed dragon. The victory over Cer- 
 berus is also easily understood as the victory over death by entrance 
 into the mother (underworld). In order to come to his wife Deianira, 
 he has to undergo a terrible battle with a water god, Achelous (with 
 the mother). The ferryman Nessus (a centaur) violates Deianira. 
 With his sun arrows Hercules killed this adversary, but Nessus advised 
 Deianira to preserve his poisoned blood as a love charm. When after 
 the insane murder of Iphitus Delphi denied him the speech of the 
 oracle, he took possession of the sacred tripod. The delphic oracle then 
 compelled him to become a slave of Omphale, who made him like 
 a child. After this Hercules returned home to Deianira, who presented 
 him with the garment poisoned with Nessus' blood (the Isis snake), 
 which immediately clung so closely to his skin that he in vain attempted 
 to tear it off. (The casting of the skin of the aging sun-god; Serpent, 
 as symbol of rejuvenation.) Hercules then ascended the funeral pyre 
 in order to destroy himself by fire like the phoenix, that is to say, to 
 give birth to himself again from his own egg. No one but young 
 Philoctetes dared to sacrifice the god. Therefore Philoctetes received 
 the arrows of the sun and the libido myth was renewed with this 
 Horus. 
 
 '' Apes, also, have an instinctive fear of snakes. 
 
 '* How much alive are still such primitive associations is shown by 
 Segantini's picture of the two mothers: cow and calf, mother and child 
 in the same stable. From this symbolism the surroundings of the birth- 
 place of the Savior are explained. 
 
 '"The myth of Hippolytos shows very beautifully all the typical parts 
 of the problem: His stepmother Phaedra wantonly falls in love with 
 him. He repulses her, she complains to her husband of violation; the 
 latter implores the water god Poseidon to punish Hippolytos. Then a 
 monster comes out of the sea. Hippolytos' horses shy and drag Hippolytos 
 to death. But he is resuscitated by Aesculapius and is placed by the 
 gods with the wise nymph, Egeria, the counsellor of Numa Porapilius. 
 Thus the wish is fulfilled; from incest, wisdom has come. 
 
 ^" Compare Hercules and Omphale. 
 *^ Compare the reproach of Gilgamesh against Ishtar. 
 " Spielrein's patient is also sick from " a snake bite." Jahrbuch, III, 
 p. 385- 
 
 *^ The entirely introverted patient of Spielrein uses similar images: 
 
pp. 307-340] BATTLE FOR DELIVERANCE 541 
 
 she speaks of "a rigidity of the soul on the cross," of "stone figures" 
 which must be " ransomed." 
 
 I call attention here to the fact that the symbolisms mentioned above 
 are striking examples of Silberer's " functional category." They depict 
 the condition of introversion. 
 
 ■*■' W. Gurlitt says: "The carrying of the bull is one of the difficult 
 a6/la (services) which Mithra performed in the service of freeing 
 humanity; "somewhat corresponding, if it is permitted to compare the 
 small with the great, with the carrying of the cross by Christ" (Cumont: 
 " Textes et Monuments," I, 72). Surely it is permissible to compare the 
 two acts. 
 
 Man should be past that period when, in true barbaric manner, he 
 haughtily scorned the strange gods, the " dii minorum gentium." But 
 man has not progressed that far, even yet. 
 
 ■'"Robertson ("Evangelical Myths," p. 130) gives an interesting con- 
 tribution to the question of the symbol of the carrying of the cross. 
 Samson carried the " pillars of the gates from Gaza and died between 
 the columns of the temple of the Philistines." Hercules, weighted down 
 by his burden, carried his columns to the place (Gades), where he also 
 died according to the Syrian version of the legend. The columns of 
 Hercules mark the western point where the sun sinks into the sea. In 
 old art he was actually represented carrying the two columns under 
 his arms in such a way that they exactly formed a cross. Here we 
 perhaps have the origin of the myth of Jesus, who carries his own 
 cross to the place of execution. It is worth noting that the three 
 synoptics substitute a man of the name of Simon from Cyrene as bearer 
 of the cross. Cyrene is in Libya, the legendary scene upon which 
 Hercules performed the labor of carrying the columns, as we have 
 seen, and Simon (Simson) is the nearest Greek name-form for Samson, 
 which in Greek might have been read Simson, as in Hebrew. But in 
 Palestine it was Simon, Semo or Sem, actually a name of a god, who 
 represented the old sun-god Semesch, who was identified with Baal, from 
 whose myth the Samson myth has doubtless arisen. The god Simon 
 enjoyed especial honor in Samaria. " The cross of Hercules might well 
 be the sun's wheel, for which the Greeks had the sj'mbol of the cross. 
 The sun's wheel upon the bas-relief in the small metropolis at Athens 
 contains a cross, which is very similar to the Maltese cross." (See Thiele: 
 " Antike Himmelsbilder," 1898, p. 59.) 
 
 *' The Greek myth of Ixion, who was bound to the " four-spoked 
 wheel," says this almost without disguise. Ixion first murdered his 
 stepfather, but later was absolved from guilt by Zeus and blessed with 
 his favor. But the ingrate attempted to seduce Hera, the mother. Zeus 
 deceived him, however, allowing the goddess of the clouds, Nephele, to 
 assume Hera's form. (From this connection the centaurs have arisen.) 
 Ixion boasted of his deed, but Zeus as a punishment plunged him into 
 the underworld, where he was bound to a wheel continually whirled 
 around by the wind. (Compare the punishment of Francesca da Rimini 
 in Dante and the "penitents" by Segantini.) 
 
 ■" Cited from Zentralblatt fiir Psychoanalyse, Jahrgang II, p. 365. 
 
 *^ The symbolism of death appearing in abundance in dreams has been 
 emphasized by Stekel ("Sprache des Traumes," p. 317). 
 
 ** Compare the Cassius scene above. 
 
542 THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE [pp. 341-427 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 * A direct unconstrained expression of sexuality is a natural occurrence 
 and as such neither unbeautiful nor repulsive. The "moral" repression 
 makes sexuality on one side dirty and hypocritical, on the other shameless 
 and obtrusive. 
 
 " Compare what is said below concerning the motive of fettering. 
 
 ' The sacrilegious assault of Horus upon Isis, at which Plutarch 
 (" De Isis et Osiris") stands aghast; he expresses himself as follows 
 concerning it. " But if any one wishes to assume and maintain that all 
 this has really happened and taken place with respect to blessed and 
 imperishable nature, which for the most part is considered as corre- 
 sponding to the divine; then, to speak in the words of Aeschylus, 'he 
 must spit out and clean his mouth.' " From this sentence one can form 
 a conception of how the well-intentioned people of ancient society may 
 have condemned the Christian point of view, first the hanged God, then 
 the management of the family, the " foundation " of the state. The 
 psychologist is not surprised. 
 
 * Compare the typical fate of Theseus and Peirithoos. 
 
 'Compare the example given for that in Aigremont: "Fuss- und 
 Schuhsymbolik." Also Part I of this book; the foot of the sun in an 
 Armenian folk prayer. Also de Gubernatis: "Die Tiere in der Indo- 
 Germanischen Mythologie," Vol. I, p. 220 ff. 
 
 «Rohde: "Psyche." 
 
 'Porphyrias ("De antro nympharum." Quoted by Dieterich: " Mith- 
 raslit.," p. 63) says that according to the Mithraic doctrine the souls 
 which pass away at birth are destined for winds, because these souls 
 had taken the breath of the wind into custody and therefore had a 
 similar nature: i/w;faZf 6' n^ yeveaiv loiaati kcu and yevtceui; x'^pi^o/ievai^ 
 EiKdrug ira^av aveuovc ^la to e(pt2.Kead^ai Kal avrag -rrvEVjua koI ovaiav f;if«i' 
 ToiavTTjv — (The souls departing at birth and becoming separated, prob- 
 ably become winds because of inhaling their breath and becoming the 
 same substance). 
 
 * In the Mithraic liturgy the generating breath of the spirit comes from 
 the sun, probably "from the tube of the sun" (see Part I). Corre- 
 sponding to this idea, in the Rigveda the sun is called the One-footed. 
 Compare with that the Armenian prayer, for the sun to allow its foot 
 to rest upon the face of the suppliant (Abeghian: "Der armenische 
 Volksglaube," 1899, p. 41). 
 
 ° Firmicus Maternus (Mathes., I, 5, 9): " Cui (animo) descensus per 
 orbem solis tribuitur, per orbem vero lunae praeparatur ascensus " (For 
 which soul a descent through the disc of the sun is devised, but the i 
 ascent is prepared through the disc of the moon). Lydus (" De mens.," 
 IV, 3) tells us that the hierophant Praetextatus has said that Janus I 
 despatches the diviner souls to the lunar fields: rog Qeiorepng ijivxag enl ! 
 T^v ceItjvikov x^po'^ anonEfiKEi. Epiphanius (Haeres LXVI, 52) : on ek tuv 
 ipvxuv 6 dioKOQ {TfjQ aelijvTjq) aTrowifiK^aTai. Quoted by Cumont: " Textes et 
 Monuments," I, I, p. 40. In exotic myths it is the same with the moon. 
 Frobenius: Ibid., p. 352 fl. 
 
 " " The Light of Asia, or The Great Renunciation " (Mahabhinish- 
 kramana). 
 
 J 
 
pp. 341-427] THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 543 
 
 ** One sees upon corresponding representations how the elephant 
 presses into Maya's head with its trunk. 
 
 "Rank: "The Myth of the Birth of the Hero," translated by W. 
 White. 
 
 ^' The speedy dying of the mother or the separation from the mother 
 belongs to the myth of the hero. In the myth of the swan maiden which 
 Rank has analyzed very beautifully, there is the wish-fulfilling thought, 
 that the swan maiden can fly away again after the birth of the child, 
 because she has then fulfilled her purpose. Man needs the mother only 
 for rebirth. 
 
 ^* Indian word for the rustle of the wind in the trees. 
 
 *' Means sound of the waves. 
 
 *' An introjection of the object into the subject in the sense of Ferenczi, 
 the "gegenwurf" or " widerwurf " (Objektum) of the mystics Eckart 
 and Bohme. 
 
 *' Karl Joel ("Seele und Welt," Jena 1912) says (p. 153): "Life does 
 not diminish in artists and prophets, but is enhanced. They are the 
 leaders into the lost Paradise, which now for the first time becomes 
 Paradise through rediscovery. It is no more the old dull unity of life 
 towards which the artist strives and leads, it is the sentient reunion, 
 not the empty but the full unity, not the unity of indifference but the 
 unity of difference." "All life is the raising of the equilibrium and 
 the pulling backwards into equilibrium. Such a return do we find in 
 religion and art." 
 
 '* By the primal experience must be understood that first human differ- 
 entiation between subject and object, that first conscious placing of 
 object, which is not psychologically conceivable without the presup- 
 position of an inner division of the animal " man " from himself, by 
 which precisely is he separated from nature which is at one with itself. 
 
 ^^ Crevecoeur: "Voyage dans la Haute Pensylvanie," I, 362. 
 
 ^^ The dragons of the Greek (and Swiss) legends live in or near 
 springs or other waters of which they are often the guardians. 
 
 " Compare the discussion above about the encircling and devouring 
 motive. Water as a hindrance in dreams seems to refer to the mother, 
 longing for the mother instead of positive work. The crossing of water 
 — overcoming of the resistance; that is to say the mother, as a symbol of 
 the longing for inactivity like death or sleep. 
 
 " Compare also the Attic custom of stuffing a bull in spring, the cus- 
 toms of the Lupercalia, Saturnalia, etc. I have devoted to this motive 
 a separate investigation, therefore I forego further proof. 
 
 '' In the Gilgamesh epic, it is directly said that it is immortality which 
 the hero goes to obtain. 
 
 ^^Sepp: "Das Heldentum und dessen Bedeutung fiir das Christentum,'* 
 Vol. Ill, 82. 
 
 " Compare the symbolism of the arrow above. 
 
 *' This thought is generally organized in the doctrine of pre-existence. 
 
544 THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE [pp. 341-427 
 
 Thus in any case man is his own generator, immortal and a hero, 
 whereby the highest wishes are fulfilled. 
 
 *'Frazer: "Golden Bough," IV, 297. 
 
 ** " Thou seekest the heaviest burden, there findest thou thyself " 
 (Nietzsche: " Zarathustra "). 
 
 ** It is an unvarying peculiarity, so to speak, that in the whale-dragon 
 myth, the hero is very hungry in the belly of the monster and begins to 
 cut off pieces from the animal, so as to feed himself. He is in the 
 nourishing mother " in the presexual stage." His next act, in order to 
 free himself, is to make a fire. In a myth of the Eskimos of the Behring 
 Straits, the hero finds a woman in the whale's belly, the soul of the 
 animal, which is feminine (Ibid, p. 85). (Compare Frobenius: Ibid, 
 passim.) 
 
 *" The carrying of the tree played an important part, as is evident 
 from a note in Strabo X, in the cult of Dionysus and Ceres (Demeter). 
 
 '* A text on the Pyramids, which treats of the arrival of the dead 
 Pharaoh in Heaven, depicts how Pharaoh takes possession of the gods 
 in order to assimilate their divine nature, and to become the lord of 
 the gods: "His servants have imprisoned the gods with a chain, they 
 have taken them and dragged them away, they have bound them, they 
 have cut their throats, and taken out their entrails, they have dis- 
 membered them and cooked them in hot vessels. And the king consumed 
 their force and ate their souls. The great gods form his breakfast, the 
 medium gods his dinner, the little gods his supper — the king consumes 
 everything that comes in his way. Greedily he devours everything and 
 his magic power becomes greater than all magic power. He becomes 
 the heir of the power, he becomes greater than all heirs, he becomes the 
 lord of heaven, he eats all crowns and all bracelets, he eats the wisdom 
 of every god, etc." (Wiedemann: " Der alte Orient," II, 2, 1900, p. 18). 
 This impossible food, this " Bulimie," strikingly depicts the sexual libido 
 in regression to the presexual material, where the mother (the gods) is 
 not the object of sex but of hunger. 
 
 ^^ The sacramental sacrifice of Dionysus-Zagreus and the eating of the 
 sacrificial meat produced the " vior Aiovvaog" the resurrection of the god, 
 as plainly appears from the Cretan fragments of the Euripides* quoted 
 by Dieterich (Ibid., p. 105): 
 
 dyvbv (5e ^lov reivuv, ff ov 
 
 Aibg 'iSaiov fivarTiq yevofiriv 
 
 nal VVKTCK6X0V Zayptuq ^ovTa^ 
 
 Tovg l)/j.o(j)a.yov(; da'cra^ TeT^eaag, 
 
 (Living a blameless life whereby I became an initiate of the 
 Idaean Zeus, I celebrated the carnivorous banquet of Zagreus, 
 the wandering herdsman of the night.) 
 
 The mystics took the god into themselves by eating the uncooked meat 
 of the sacrificial animal. 
 
 *'Richter: 14, 14. 
 
 ^* Orphic Hymn, 46. Compare Roscher: "Lexicon," sect, on lakchos. 
 
 "A close parallel to this is the Japanese myth of Izanagi, who, fol- 
 lowing his dead spouse into the underworld, implored her to return. 
 
pp. 341-427] THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 545 
 
 She is ready, but beseeches him, " Do not look at me." Izanagi produces 
 light with his reed, that is to say, with a masculine piece of wood (the 
 fire-boring Phallus), and thus loses his spouse. (Frobenius: Ibid., p. 343.) 
 Mother must be put in the place of spouse. Instead of the mother, the 
 hero produces fire; Hiawatha, maize; Odin, Runes, when he in torment 
 hung on the tree. 
 
 ^* Quoted from De Jong: "Das antike Mysterienwesen." Leiden 1910, 
 p. 22. 
 
 *' A son-lover from the Demeter myth is lasion, who embraces Demeter 
 upon a thrice-ploughed cornfield. (Bridal couch in the pasture.) For 
 that lasion was struck by lightning by Zeus (Ovid: " Metam.," IX). 
 
 ^' See Cumont: " Textes et Monuments," I, p. 56. 
 
 ^' " Mithraslit.," p. 123. 
 
 ^^ For example upon a Campana relief in Lovatelli ("Antichi monu- 
 menti," Roma, 1889, I, IV, Fig. 5). Likewise the Veronese Priapus has 
 a basket filled with phalli. 
 
 *^ Compare Grimm: II, IV, p. 899: Either by the caressing or kissing 
 of a dragon or a snake, the fearful animal was changed into a beautiful 
 woman whom the hero wins in this way. 
 
 *^ The mother, the earth, is the distributor of nourishment. The 
 mother in presexual material has this meaning. Therefore St. Dominicus 
 was nourished from the breasts of the mother of God. The sun wife, 
 Namaqua, consists of bacon. Compare with this the megalomanic ideas 
 of my patient, who asserted: "I am Germania and Helvetia made ex- 
 clusively from 'sweet butter'" (" Psychology' of Dementia Praecox"). 
 
 *' Compare the ideas of Nietzsche: "Piercing into one's own pit," etc. 
 In a prayer to Hermes in a London papyrus it is said: i^^'&e f^oi, Kvpie 
 'EpfiTj, wf rd fipEcpr/ Etg rag KoiAiar tuv yvvaiKuv (Come to me, Lord Hermes, as 
 the foetus into the womb of the mother). Kenyon: "Greek Papyrus in 
 the British Museum," 1893, p. 116; Pap. CXXII, Z. 2 ff. Cited by 
 Dieterich: Ibid., p. 97. 
 
 *^ Compare De Jong: Ibid., p. 22. 
 
 *" The typical grain god of antiquity was Adonis, whose death and 
 resurrection was celebrated annually. He was the son-lover of the 
 mother, for the grain is the son and fructifier of the womb of the earth 
 as Robertson very correctly remarks ("Evangelical Myths," p. 36). 
 
 "De Jong: Ibid., p. 14. 
 
 *' Faust: 
 
 " There whirls the press, like clouds on clouds unfolding. 
 Then with stretched arm swing high the key thou'rt holding! " 
 
 ** As an example among many, I mention here the Polynesian Rata 
 myth cited by Frobenius: Ibid., pp. 64-66: "With a favorable wind the 
 boat was sailing easily away over the Ocean, when Nganaoa called out 
 one day: 'O Rata, here is a fearful enemy who rises up from the 
 Ocean!' It was an open mussel of huge dimensions. One shell was 
 in front of the boat, the other behind it, and the vessel was directly 
 between. The next moment the horrible mussel would have clapped its 
 shells together and ground the boat and occupants to pieces in its grip. 
 
546 THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE [pp. 341-427 
 
 But Nganaoa was prepared for this possibility. He grasped his long 
 spear and quickly plunged it into the belly of the animal so that the 
 creature, instead of snapping together, at once sank back to the bottom 
 of the sea. After they had escaped from this danger they continued on 
 their way. But after a while the voice of the always watchful Nganaoa 
 was again to be heard. 'O Rata, once more a terrible enemy rushes 
 upwards from the depths of the ocean.' This time it was a mighty 
 octopus, whose gigantic tentacles already surrounded the boat, in order 
 to destroy it. At this critical moment, Nganaoa seized his spear, and 
 plunged it into the head of the octopus. The tentacles sank away limp 
 and the dead monster rose to the surface of the water. Once more they 
 continued on their journey, but a yet greater danger awaited them. 
 One day the valiant Nganaoa called out, ' O Rata, here is a great 
 whale!' The huge jaws were wide open, the lower jaw was already 
 under the boat, and the upper one over it. One moment more and the 
 whale would have devoured them. Now Nganaoa ' the dragon slayer ' 
 broke his spear into two parts, and at the moment when the whale was 
 about to devour them, he stuck the two pieces into the jaws of the foe 
 so that he could not close his jaws. Nganaoa quickly sprang into the 
 jaws of the great whale (devouring of the hero) and looked into its 
 belly, and what did he see? There sat both his parents, his father, 
 Tairitokerau, and his mother, Vaiaroa, who had been gulped down into 
 the depths of this monster. The oracle has come true. The voyage has 
 come to its end. Great was the joy of the parents of Nganaoa when they 
 saw their son. They were convinced that their freedom was at hand. 
 And Nganaoa resolved upon revenge. He took one of the two pieces 
 from the jaws of the animal — one was enough to make it impossible for 
 the whale to close his jaws and so keep a passage free for Nganaoa 
 and his parents. He broke this part of the spear in two, in order to 
 use them as wood to produce fire by rubbing. He commanded his father 
 to hold one firmly below, while he himself managed the upper one, until 
 the fire began to glimmer (production of fire). Now when he blew this 
 into flames, he hastened to heat the fatty part (heart) of the belly with 
 the fire. The monster, writhing with pain, sought help swimming to 
 the nearest land (journey in the sea). As soon as he reached the sand- 
 bank (land) father, mother and son walked onto the land through the 
 open jaws of the dying whale (slipping out of the hero)." 
 
 *^ In the New Zealand Maui myth (quoted by Frobenius: Ibid., p. 66 ff.) 
 the monster to be conquered is the grandmother Hine-nui-te-po. Maui, 
 the hero, says to the birds who assist him: "My little friends, now 
 when I creep into the jaws of the old woman, you must not laugh, but 
 when I have been in and come out again, from her mouth, then you 
 may greet me with jubilant laughter." Then Maui actually creeps into 
 the mouth of the sleeping old woman. 
 
 '"' Published and prepared by Julius v. Negelein, in " Relig. Ge- 
 schichte." Vers. u. Vorarb. von Dieterich und Wiinsch, Vol. XI. 
 Giessen 1912. 
 
 "Quoted, J. V. Negelein: " Der Traumschliissel des Jagaddeva," p. 
 256. 
 
 '" The pine-tree speaks the significant word, " Minne-wawa ! " 
 
 "' In a fairy tale, the bird comes to the tree which grows upon the 
 grave of the mother in order to give help. 
 
pp. 341-427] THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 547 
 
 ^^Roscher: s. " Picus," Sp. 2494, 62. Probably a symbol of re- 
 birth. 
 
 "* The father of Picus is called Sterculus or Sterculius, a name which 
 is clearly derived from stercus = excrementum; he is also said to be 
 the devisor of manure. The primitive creator who also created the 
 mother did so in the manner of infantile creation, which we have previ- 
 ously learned. The supreme god laid an egg, his mother, from which 
 he was again produced — this is an analogous train of thought. 
 
 °' Introversion = to enter the mother; to sink into one's own inner- 
 world, or source of the libido, is symbolized by creeping in, passing 
 through, boring. (Scratching behind the ear ^ making fire.) Boring 
 into the ear, scratching with the nails, swallowing serpents. Thus the 
 Buddhist legend is understandable. When Gautama had spent the whole 
 day sitting in deep reflection under the sacred tree, at evening he became 
 Buddha, the illumined one. 
 
 "' Compare (fokXoQ (phallus) above and its etymological connection. 
 
 *' Spielrein's patient received from God three wounds through her 
 head, breast and eye. "Then there came a resurrection of the Spirit" 
 {Jahrhuch, III, p. 376). 
 
 In the Tibetan myth of Bogda Cesser Khan the sun-hero shoots his 
 arrow into the forehead of the demoniacal old woman, who devours it 
 and spits it up again. In a Calmuc myth, the hero shoots the arrow 
 into the eye emitting rays, which is found on the forehead of the bull. 
 Compare with that the victory of Polyphemus, whose character is sig- 
 nified upon an Attic vase because with it there is also a snake (as symbol 
 of the mother. See the explanation of the sacrificium Mithriacum). 
 
 °° In the form of the father, for Megissogwon is the demon of the 
 west, like Mudjekeewis. 
 
 "Compare Deussen: " Geschichte der Philosophie," Vol. I, p. 14. 
 
 '* An analogy is Zeus and Athene. In Rigveda 10, 31, the word of 
 prayer becomes a pregnant cow. In Persian it is the "Eye of Ahura"; 
 Babylonian Nabu: the word of fate; Persian vohii mano: the good 
 thought of the creator God; in Stoic conceptions, Hermes is logos or 
 world intellect; in Alexandria the ^o(pia, in the Old Testament it is the 
 angel of Jehovah, or the countenance of God. Jacob wrestled with 
 the angel during the night at the ford of Jabbok, after he had crossed 
 the water with all that he possessed. (Night journey on the sea, battle 
 with the night snake, combat at the ford like Hiawatha.) In this 
 combat, Jacob dislocated his thigh. (Motive of the twisting out of the 
 arm. Castration on account of the overpowering of the mother.) This 
 "face" of God was compared in the old Jewish philosophy to the 
 mystic Metatron, the prince of the face of God (Josiah 5, 14), who 
 brings " the prayer to God " and " in whom is the name of God." The 
 Naassens (Ophits) called the Holy Ghost the "first word," the mother 
 of all that lives; the Valentinians comprehended the descending dove 
 of Pneuma as "the word of the mother from above, the Sophia." 
 (Drews: "Christ Myth," I, pp. 16, 22, 80.) In Assyria, Gibil, the fire 
 god, had the role of Logos. (Tiele: " Assyr. Gesch." (In Ephrem, 
 the Syrian writer of hymns, John the Baptist says to Christ: "A spark 
 of fire in the air waits for thee over the Jordan. If thou followest it 
 and willst be baptised, then take possession of thyself, wash thyself, for 
 
548 THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE [pp. 341-427 
 
 who has the power to take hold of burning fire with his hands? Thou, 
 who art wholly fire, have mercy upon me." Usener: " Religions- 
 geschichtliche Untersuchungen." Cited by Drews: Ibid., p. 8i. 
 
 *^ Perhaps the great significance of the name arose from this phantasy. 
 
 *' Grimm mentions the legend that Siegfried was suckled by a doe. 
 (Compare Hiawatha's first deed.) 
 
 ^* Compare Grimm's " Mythology." Mime or Mimir is a gigantic 
 being of great wisdom, " a very old Nature God," with whom the 
 Norse gods associate. Later fables make of him a demon and a skilful 
 smith (closest relation to Wieland). Just as Wotan obtained advice 
 from the wise woman (compare the quotation from Julius Caesar about 
 the German matron), so does Odin go to the brook of Mimir in which 
 wisdom and judgment lie hidden, to the spiritual mother (mother- 
 imago). There he requests a drink (drink of immortality), but no 
 sooner does he receive it than he sacrifices his eye to the well (death 
 of the sun in the sea). The well of Mimir points undoubtedly to the 
 mother significance of Mimir. Thus Mimir gets possession of Odin's 
 other eye. In Mimir, the mother (wise giant) and the embryo (dwarf, 
 subterranean sun, Harpocrates) is condensed; likewise, as mother, he is 
 the source of wisdom and art. ("Mother-imago" therefore may be 
 translated as "phantasy" under certain circumstances.) 
 
 '* The magic sleep is also present in the Homeric celebration of the 
 
 Hierosgamos. See above.) 
 
 '* This is proved by Siegfried's words: 
 
 " Through furious fire 
 To thee have I fared; 
 Nor birny nor buckler 
 Guarded my breast: 
 The flames have broken 
 Through to my heart, 
 My blood doth bound 
 In turbulent streams; 
 A raving fire 
 Within me is kindled." 
 
 " The cave dragon is the " terrible mother." In the German legends 
 the maiden to be rescued often appears as a snake or dragon, and must 
 be kissed in this form, through which the dragon is changed into a 
 beautiful woman. A fish's or a serpent's tail is attributed to certain 
 wise women. In the " golden mountain " a king's daughter was be- 
 witched into a snake. In the Oselberg near Dinkelsbiihl there lives a 
 snake with a woman's head and a bunch of keys around her neck. 
 (Grimm.) 
 
 •' Faust (II Part) : 
 
 Doch im Erstarren such ich nicht mein Heil, 
 Das Schaudern ist der Menschheit bestes Teil ; 
 Wie auch die Welt ihm das Gefiihl verteure, 
 Ergriffen, fiihlt er tief das Ungeheure. 
 
 *' " Etymol. Worterbuch der deutschen Sprache," sub. Hort. 
 
 '" " Griechische Etymologie," sub. kevQu. 
 
 '* Pausanias: I, 18, 7. 
 
pp. 341-427] THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 549 
 
 "Rohde: "Psyche," IV. Aufl., Vol. I, p. 214. 
 
 "J. Maehly: "Die Schlange im Mythus und Kultus der klassischen 
 Volker," 1867. 
 
 ''Duchesne: "Lib. pontifical.," I, S. CIX. Cited by Cumont: " Textes 
 et Monuments," Vol. I, p. 351. 
 
 "Cited by Cumont: "Textes et Monuments," Vol. I, p. 351. 
 
 " Like his counterpart, the apocalyptic " son of man," from whose 
 mouth proceeds a "sharp two-edged sword." Rev. i:i6. Compare 
 Christ as serpent and the Antichrist seducing the people. Rev. xx: 3. 
 We come across the same motive of the guardian dragon who pierces 
 women, in the myth from Van Diemen's Land: "A horn-back lay in 
 the cavity of a rock, a huge horn-back! The horn-back was large and 
 he had a very long spear. From his cavity he espied the women; 
 he saw them dive into the water, he pieced them with his spear, he 
 killed them, he carried them away. For some time they were to be 
 seen no longer." The monster was then killed by the two heroes. They 
 made fire(!) and brought the women to life again. (Cited by Frobenius: 
 Ibid., p. 77.) 
 
 " The eyes of the Son of man are like a flame of fire. Rev. 1:15. 
 
 "Cited by Cumont: "Textes et Monuments," I, p. 352. 
 
 "Compare Roscher: "Lexicon," I, 2, 1885. 
 
 *" The triple form also related to the moon (waxing, full, and waning 
 moon). However, such cosmic relations are primarily projections of 
 metapsychology. 
 
 ''Faust (II Part): The Scene of the mothers: The key belongs to 
 Hecate, npoBvpaia, as the guardian of Hades, and psychopompic Divinity. 
 Compare Janus, Peter and Aion. 
 
 *' Attribute of the "terrible mother": Ishtar has "tormented the horse 
 with goad and whip and tortured him to death." (Jensen: " Gilgamesh 
 Epic," p. 18.) Also an attribute of Helios. 
 
 *' Phallic symbol of fear. 
 
 ** Murderous weapon as symbol of the fructifying phallus. 
 
 '* Plato has already testified to this as a phallic symbol, as is men- 
 tioned above. 
 
 *" Cited by Roscher: I, 2, Sp. 1909. 
 
 " Compare the symbolism in the hymn to Mary of Melk (12th century). 
 " Santa Maria, 
 
 Closed gate 
 
 Opened to God's command — 
 
 Sealed fountain. 
 
 Barred garden. 
 
 Gate of Paradise." 
 The same symbolism occurs in an erotic verse: 
 
 " Maiden, may I enter with you 
 
 Into your rose garden. 
 
 There, where the little red roses grow, 
 
 Those delicate and tender roses, 
 
550 THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE [pp. 341-427 
 
 With a tree close by, 
 Whose leaves sway to and fro, 
 And a cool little brook 
 Which lies directly beneath it." 
 
 "'Herzog: " Aus dem Asklepieion von Kos." Archiv fiir Religions- 
 ivissenschait, Vol. X, H. 2, p. 219 ff. 
 
 ** A Mithraic sanctuary was, when at all possible, a subterranean 
 grotto; often the cavern was merely an artificial one. It is conceivable 
 that the Christian crypts and subterranean churches are of similar 
 meaning. 
 
 *" Compare Schultze: "Die Katakomben," 1882, p. 9. 
 
 *^ In the Taurobolia a bull was sacrificed over a grave, in which 
 lay the one to be consecrated. His initiation consisted in being covered 
 with the blood of the sacrifice. Also a regeneration and rebirth, baptisiQ. 
 The baptized one was called Renatus. 
 
 "^Additional proof in Herzog: Ibid., p. 224. 
 
 " Ibid., p. 225. 
 
 •* Indeed sacred serpents were kept for display and other purposes. 
 
 "Rohde: "Psyche," chap, i, p. 244. 
 
 •* Vol. I, p. 28. 
 
 " Fick. Compare " Worterbuch," I, p. 424. 
 
 '* Compare the stable cleaning of Hercules. The stable, like the 
 cavern, is a place of birth. We find stable and cavern in Mithracism 
 combined with the bull symbolism, as in Christianity. (See Robertson: 
 " Christ and Krishna.") In a Basuto myth, the stable birth also occurs. 
 (Frobenius.) The stable birth belongs to the mythologic animal fable; 
 therefore the legend of the conceptio immaculata, allied to the history 
 of the impregnation of the barren Sarah, appears very early in Egypt as 
 an animal fable. Herodotus, III, 28, relates: "This Apis or Epaphos 
 is a calf whose mother was unable to become impregnated, but the 
 Egyptians said that a ray from heaven fell upon the cow, and from 
 that she brought forth Apis." Apis symbolizes the sun, therefore his 
 signs: upon the forehead a white spot, upon his back a figure of an 
 eagle, upon his tongue a beetle. 
 
 "According to Philo, the serpent is the most spirited of all animals; 
 its nature is that of fire, the rapidity of its movements is great and this 
 without need of any especial limbs. It has a long life and sheds age, 
 with its skin. Therefore it was inculcated in the mysteries, because it is 
 immortal. (Maehly: "Die Schlange in Mythologie und Kultus der 
 klassischen Volker," 1867, p. 7.) 
 
 *'"' For example, the St. John of Quinten Matsys (see illustration); 
 also two pictures by an unknown Strassburg master in the Gallery at 
 Strassburg. 
 
 *'* " And the wonaan — having a golden cup in her hand full of 
 abominations and filthiness of her fornication" (Rev. xvii:4). The 
 woman is " drunken with the blood of the saints and with the blood of 
 the martyrs of Jesus": a striking image of the terrible mother (here, 
 cup = genitals). In the Tibetan myth of Bogda Cesser Khan there 
 
pp. 341-427] THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 55 1 
 
 is a beetle (treasure attainable with difficulty), which the demoniac 
 old woman guards. Cesser says to her: "Sister, never since I \yas 
 born have you shown me the beetle my soul." The mother libido 
 is also the soul. It is significant that the old woman desired the hero 
 as a husband. (Frobenius.) 
 
 "' This is also the significance of the mysteries. Their purpose is to 
 lead the useless, regressive incestuous libido over the bridges of &ym- 
 bolism into rational activity, and through that transform the obscure 
 compulsion of the libido working up from the unconscious into social 
 communion and higher moral endeavor. 
 
 *°' An excellent example of this is the description of the orgies of the 
 Russian sectarian by Mereschkowski, in his book, " Peter the Great and 
 Alexei." In the cult of the Asiatic Goddesses of love (Anaitis, Mylitta, 
 etc.), prostitution in the temple was an organized institution. The 
 orgiastic cult of Anahita (Anaitis) has been preserved in modern sects, 
 with the Ali Illahija, the so-called "extinguishers of light"; with the 
 Yezeds and Dushikkurds, who celebrate nocturnal religious orgies which 
 end in a wild sexual debauch, during which incestuous unions also occur. 
 (Spiegel: " Eran. Altertumskunde," II, p. 64.) Further examples are 
 to be found in the valuable work of Stoll (" Das Sexualleben in der 
 Volkerpsychologie," Leipzig 1908). 
 
 ^°* Concerning the kiss of the snake, compare Grimm, II, p. 809. 
 By this means, a beautiful woman was set free. The sucking refers to 
 the maternal significance of the snake, which exists along with the 
 phallic. It is a coitus act on the presexual stage. Spielrein's insane 
 patient {Jahrhuch, III, p. 344) says as follows: "Wine is the blood of 
 Jesus. — The water must be blessed, and was blessed by him. The one 
 buried alive becomes the vineyard. That wine becomes blood — the 
 water is mingled with 'childishness' because God says, 'become like 
 little children.' There is also a spermatic water which can be drunken 
 with blood. That perhaps is the water of Jesus." Here we find a 
 commingling of all the various meanings of the way to win immortality. 
 Wiedeniann ("Der alte Orient," II, 2, p. 18; cited by Dieterich: Ibid., 
 p. loi) asserts that it is an Egyptian idea that man draws in the milk 
 of immortality by suckling the breast of a goddess. (Compare with that 
 the myth of Hercules, where the hero attains immortality by a single 
 draw at the breast of Hera.) 
 
 ^*" From the writings of the sectarian Anton Unternahrer: " Ge- 
 heimes Reskript der bernischen Regierung an die Pfarr- und Statthalter- 
 amter," 1821. I owe the knowledge of this fragment to Rev. Dr. O. 
 Pfister. 
 
 ^"^ Nietzsche: " Zarathustra ": "And I also give this parable to you: 
 Not a few who wished to drive out the devil from themselves, by that 
 lead themselves into the slough." 
 
 "" Compare the vision of Zosimos. 
 
 "* The significance of the communion ritual as a unio mystica with 
 God is at bottom sexual and very corporeal. The primitive significance 
 of the communion is that of a Hierosgamos. Therefore in the fragment 
 of the Attis mysteries handed down by Firmicus it is said that the mystic 
 eats from the Tympanon, drinks from the Kymbalon, and he confesses: 
 vnb Tov naarov vnidvov, which means the same as: "I have entered the 
 
552 THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE [pp. 341-427 
 
 bridal chamber." Usener (in Dieterich: Ibid., p. 126) refers to a series of 
 quotations from the patristic literature, of which I mention merely one 
 sentence from the speeches of Proclus of Constantinople: v Tratrrdf h ^ 
 6 Xoyoc evvfKfiEvaaTo ttjv aapKa (The bridal chamber in which the Logos has 
 espoused the flesh). The church is also to some extent the bridal chamber, 
 wnere the spirit unites with the flesh, really the Cometerium. Irenaeus 
 mentions some more of the initiatory customs of certain gnostic sects, 
 which were undoubtedly nothing but spiritual weddings. (Compare 
 Dieterich: Ibid., p. 127 ff.) In the Catholic church, even yet, a Hieros- 
 gamos is celebrated on the installation of a priest. A young maiden there 
 represents the church as bride. 
 
 *"* Compare also the phantasies of Felicien Rops: The crucified 
 Priapus. 
 
 ^^^ Compare with that the symbolism in Nietzsche's poem: "Why 
 enticest thou thyself into the paradise of the old serpent?" 
 Ill II 'pj^yg Spake Zarathustra." 
 
 **' Nietzsche himself must have shown at times a certain predilection 
 for loathsome animals. Compare C. A. Bernoulli: "Franz Oberbeck und 
 Friedrich Nietzsche," Vol. I, p. 166. 
 
 ^^^ I recall Nietzsche's dream, which is cited in Part I of this book. 
 
 "* The Germanic myth of Dietrich von Bern, who had fiery breath, 
 belongs to this idea: He was wounded in the forehead by an arrow, a 
 piece of which remained there fixed; from this, he was called the im- 
 mortal. In a similar manner, half of Hrungnir's wedge-shaped stone 
 fastened itself in Thor's head. See Grimm: "Mythology," I, p. 309. 
 
 "° " Geschichte der Philosophic," Vol. I, p. 181. 
 
 ^^' Sa tapo atapyata. 
 
 ^*' The Stoic idea of the creative primal warmth, in which we have 
 already recognized the libido (Part I, Chap. IV), belongs in this con- 
 nection, also the birth of Mithra from a stone, which resulted solo aestu 
 libidinis (through the heat of the libido only). 
 
 "* In the accurate prose translation this passage reads: "There Kama 
 developed from him in the beginning" (Deussen: " Gesch. d. Phil.," 
 Vol. I, p. 123). Kama is the libido. "The sages found the root of being 
 in the non-being, in the heart, searching with introspection." 
 
 *** " Fame and Eternity." 
 
 *" Grimm: "Mythology," III. The heroes have serpent's eyes, as do 
 the kings: ormr i auga. Sigurdr is called Ormr 1 Auga. 
 
 *^' Nietzsche's 
 
 " In the green light, 
 Happiness still plays around the brown abyss. 
 His voice grows hoarse, 
 His eye flashes verdigris! " 
 
 *" From " The Poverty of the Richest." 
 *'* Nietzsche's " Fragments of Dionysus-Dithyrambs." 
 " Heavy eyes, 
 Which seldom love: 
 
pp. 341-427] THE DUAL MOTHER ROLE 553 
 
 But when they love, it flashes out 
 
 Like a gold mine 
 
 Where a dragon guards the treasure of love." 
 
 *'* He is pregnant with the sun. 
 
 '^■^ Galatians iii: 27 alludes to this primitive idea: "For as many of 
 you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ." 
 
 ^"' Just as is Mani so is Marsyas a crucified one. (See Robertson: 
 "Evangelical Myths," p. 66.) Both were hung, a punishment which has 
 an unmistakable symbolic value, because the suspension ("to suffer 
 and fear in the torment of suspension ") is the symbol of an unfulfilled 
 wish. (See Freud: "The Interpretation of Dreams.") Therefore Christ, 
 Odin, Attis hung on trees (:= mother). The Talmudic Jesus ben Pandira 
 (apparently the earliest historic Jesus) suffered a similar death, on 
 the eve of a Passover festival in the reign of Alexander Jannaeus (106-79 
 B.C.). This Jesus may have been the founder of the " Essenes," a sect 
 (see Robertson: " Evang. Myths," p. 123) which stood in a certain relation 
 to subsequent Christianity. The Jesus ben Stada identified with the pre- 
 ceding Jesus, but removed into the second Christian century, was also 
 hung. Both were first stoned, a punishment which was, so to speak, 
 a bloodless one like hanging. The Christian church, which spills no 
 blood, therefore burned. This may not be without significance for a 
 peculiar ceremony reported from Uganda: "When a king of Uganda 
 wished to live forever, he went to a place in Busiro, where a feast was 
 given by the chiefs. At the feast the Mamba Clan was especially held 
 in honor, and during the festivities a member of this clan was secretly 
 chosen by his fellows, caught hy them, and beaten to death with their 
 fists; no stick or other weapon might be used by the men appointed to 
 do the deed. After death, the victim's body was flayed and the skin 
 made into a special whip, etc. After the ceremony of the feast in 
 Busiro, with its strange sacrifice, the king of Uganda was supposed to 
 live forever, but from that day he was never allowed to see his mother 
 again. (Quoted from Frazer: "Golden Bough," Part IV, p. 415.) The 
 sacrifice, which is chosen to purchase everlasting life for another, is here 
 given over to a bloodless death and after that skinned. That this sacri- 
 fice has an absolutely unmistakable relation to the mother — as we 
 already know — is corroborated very plainly by Frazer. 
 
 **' Frazer: "Adonis, Attis, Osiris," p. 242. 
 
 ""Frazer: Ibid., p. 246. 
 
 ^^* Frazer: Ibid., p. 249. 
 
 ""Cited by Dieterich in " Mithrasliturgie," p. 215. 
 
 *'* Another attempt at solution seems to be the Dioscuri motive: 
 The sun consists of two brothers similar to each other, the one mortal, 
 the other immortal. This motive is found, as is well known, in the 
 two Agvins, who, however, are not further differentiated. In the 
 Mithraic doctrine, Mithra is the father, Sol the son, and yet both are 
 one as 6 ^tyaq Qeb^'YUioq WSpaq.The motive of twins emerges, not infre- 
 quently, in dreams. In a dream, where it is related that a woman had 
 given birth to twins, the dreamer found, instead of the expected children, 
 a box and a bottle-like object. Here the twins had male and female 
 significance. This observation hints at a possible significance of the 
 Dioscuri as the sun and its re-bearing mother — daughter (?). 
 
554 THE SACRIFICE [pp. 428-483 
 
 ^" Among the daughters of the desert. 
 
 ^^^ Zentralblatt fur Psychoanalyse, Vol. II, p. 169. 
 
 ^'* This problem has frequently been employed in the ancient sun 
 myths. It is especially striking that the lion-killing heroes, Samson and 
 Hercules, are weaponless in the combat. The lion is the symbol of the 
 most intense summer heat, astrologically he is the Domicillum Solis. 
 Steinthal {Zeitschrift fiir Volkerpsychologie, Vol. II, p. 133) reasons 
 about this in a most interesting manner, which I quote word for word: 
 
 " When the Sun-god fights against the summer heat, he fights against 
 himself; when he kills it, he kills himself. Most certainly! The 
 Phoenician, Assyrian and Lydian ascribes self-destruction to his sun-god, 
 for he can comprehend the lessening of the sun's heat only as a self- 
 murder. He believed that the sun stood at its highest in the summer 
 and its rays scorched with destroying heat: thus does the god burn 
 himself, but he does not die, only rejuvenates himself. — Also Hercules 
 burns himself, but ascends to Olympus in the flames. This is the con- 
 tradiction in the pagan gods. They, as forces of nature, are helpful 
 as well as harmful to men. In order to do good and to redeem they 
 must work against themselves. The opposition is dulled, when either 
 of the two sides of the forces of nature is personified in an especial 
 god, or when the power of nature is conceived of as a divine personage; 
 however, each of its two modes of action, the benevolent and the injuri- 
 ous, has an especial symbol. The symbol is always independent, and 
 finally is the god himself; and while originally the god worked against 
 himself, destroyed himself, now symbol fights against symbol, god 
 against god, or the god with the symbol." 
 
 Certainly the god fights with himself, with his other self, which we 
 have conceived of under the symbol of mother. The conflict always 
 appears to be the struggle with the father and the conquering of the 
 mother. 
 
 ^'° The old Etruscan custom of covering the urn of ashes, and the dead 
 buried in the earth, with the shield, is something more than mere chance. 
 
 ^^° Incest motive. 
 
 ^" Compare the idea of the Phcenix in the Apocalypse of Baruch, 
 Part I of this book. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 * The kingdom of the mother is the kingdom of the (unconscious) 
 phantasy. 
 
 ^ Behind nature stands the mother, in continuation of our earlier dis- 
 cussions and in the foregoing poem of Holderlin. Here the mother 
 hovers before the poet's mind as a tree, on which the child hangs like a 
 blossom. 
 
 'Once he called the "stars his brothers." Here I must call to mind, 
 the remarks in the first part of this work, especially that mystic identifi- 
 cation with the stars: eyu elfii avfnr?Lavng vfilv aar^p (I am a star who wan- 
 ders together with you). The separation and differentiation from the 
 mother, the " individuation " creates that transition of the subjective into 
 the objective, that foundation of consciousness. Before this, man was 
 one with the mother. That is to say, with the world as a whole. At 
 that period man did not know the sun as brother. This occurred for 
 
pp. 428-483] THE SACRIFICE 555 
 
 the first time, when after the resulting separation and placing of the 
 object, the libido, regressing to the infantile, perceived in that first state 
 its possibilities and the suspicion of his relationship to the stars forced 
 itself upon him. This occurrence appears not infrequently in the intro- 
 version psychoses. A young peasant, an ordinary laboring man, devel- 
 oped an introversion psychosis (Dementia Praecox). His first feelings 
 of illness were shown by a special connection which he felt with the 
 sun and the stars. The stars became full of meaning to him, and the 
 sun suggested ideas to him. This apparently entirely new perception of 
 nature is met with very often in this disease. Another patient began 
 to understand the language of birds, which brought him messages from 
 his beloved (mother). Compare Siegfried. 
 
 * The spring belongs to the idea as a whole. 
 
 ' This idea expresses the divine-infantile blessedness, as in Hyperion's 
 " Song of Fate." 
 
 " You wander above there in the light 
 Upon soft clouds, blessed genii! 
 Shining breezes of the gods 
 Stir you gently." 
 
 ' This portion is especially noteworthy. In childhood everything was 
 given him, and man is disinclined to obtain it once more for himself, 
 because it is won only through "toil and compulsion": even love costs 
 trouble. In childhood the well of the libido gushed forth in bubbling 
 fulness. In later life it involves hard work to even keep the stream 
 flowing for the onward striving life, because with increasing age the 
 stream has a growing inclination to flow back to its source, if effectual 
 mechanisms are not created to hinder this backward movement or at 
 least to organize it. In this connection belongs the generally accepted 
 idea, that love is absolutely spontaneous; only the infantile type of love 
 is something absolutely spontaneous. The love of an adult man allows 
 itself to be purposefully directed. Man can also say " I will love." The 
 heights of culture are conditioned by the capacity for displacement of 
 the libido. 
 
 '' Motive of immortality in the fable of the death of Empedocles. 
 Horace: Deus immortalis haberi — Dum cupit Empedocles ardentem 
 frigidus Aetnam — Insiluit (Empedocles deliberately threw himself into 
 the glowing Aetna because he wanted to be believed an immortal god). 
 
 * Compare the beautiful passage in the journey to Hades of Odysseus, 
 where the hero wishes to embrace his mother. 
 
 " But I, thrilled by inner longing. 
 
 Wanted to embrace the soul of my departed mother. 
 
 Three times I endeavored, full of passionate desire for the embrace: 
 
 Three times from my hands she escaped 
 
 Like nocturnal shades and the images of dreams, 
 
 And in my heart sadness grew more intense." ("Odyss.," XI, 204.) 
 The underworld, hell, is indeed the place of unfulfilled longing. The 
 Tantalus motive is found through all of hell. 
 
 * Spielrein's patient {Jahrbuch, III, p. 345) speaks in connection with 
 the significance of the communion of " the water mixed with childish- 
 ness; spermatic water, blood and wine." P. 368 she says: "The souls 
 fallen into the water are saved by God, they fall into the deep abyss — 
 The souls were saved by the son of God." 
 
556 THE SACRIFICE [pp. 428-483 
 
 *° The (f>dpuaKov a^avaalar, the drink of Soma, the Haoma of the Persians, 
 might have been made from Ephedra vulgaris. Spiegel: " Eran. Alter- 
 tumslcunde," I, p. 433. 
 
 ^' Like the heavenly city in Hauptmann's "Hannele": 
 " Salvation is a wonderful city, 
 Where peace and joy never end. 
 Its houses are marble, its roofs are gold, 
 But wine flows in silver fountains. 
 Flowers are strewed upon the white, white streets. 
 Continually from the towers sound the wedding bells. 
 Green as May are the battlements, shining with the light of early 
 
 morning. 
 Giddy with butterflies, crowned with roses. 
 
 There below, hand in hand. 
 
 The festive people wander through the heavenly land, 
 
 The wide, wide sea is filled with red, red wine, 
 
 They plunge in with shining bodies! 
 
 They plunge into the foam and the splendor, 
 
 The clear purple covers them entirely. 
 
 And they exulting arise from the flood, 
 
 Thus they are washed by Jesus' blood." 
 
 ^'Richter: 15, 17. 
 
 *'Prellwitz: " Griech. Etym.," s. aK^nru. 
 
 " Of the father. 
 
 *" This was really the purpose of all mysteries. They create sym- 
 bolisms of death and rebirth for the practical application and education 
 of the infantile libido. As Frazer ("The Golden Bough," I, p. 442) 
 points out, exotic and barbaric peoples have in their initiatory mysteries 
 the same symbolism of death and resurrection, just as Apuleius 
 " Metam.," XI, 23) says of the initiation of Lucius into the Isis mys- 
 teries: " Accessi confinium mortis et calcato Proserpinae limine per omnia 
 vectus elementa remeavi " (I have reached the confines of death and 
 trodden the threshold of Proserpina; passing through all the elements, I 
 have returned). Lucius died figuratively (ad instar voluntariae mortis) 
 and was born anew (renatus). 
 
 ^* This does not hinder the modern neurasthenic from making work 
 a means of repression and worrying about it. 
 
 *' Compare Genesis xlix:i7: "Dan shall be a serpent by the way, 
 an adder in the path, that biteth the horse heels, so that his rider shall 
 fall backward." 
 
 ^* Compare with this the Egyptian representation of the Heaven as 
 woman and cow. 
 
 ^° Freud: " Formulierungen iiber die zwei Prinzipien des psychischen 
 Geschehens," 1912 Jahrbuch, p. 1 ff. 
 
 *° This form of question recalls the well-known Indian symbol of the 
 world-bearing animal: an elephant standing upon a tortoise. The ele- 
 phant has chiefly masculine-phallic significance and the tortoise, like 
 every shell animal, chiefly feminine significance. 
 
pp. 428-483] THE SACRIFICE 557 
 
 " Zentralblatt fiir Psychoanalyse, Vol. II, p. 171. 
 
 ''The neurotic Don Juan is no evidence to the contrary. That which 
 the "habitue" understands by love is merely an infirmity and far dif- 
 ferent from that which love ir.eans! 
 
 "Spiegel: " Eran. Altertumskunde," 11, 667. 
 
 '* Freud: " Eine Kindheitserinrerurrr c!°s Leonardo da Vinci," p. 57: 
 "The almight}', just God aud be..cvolent i:ari:rc appear to us as a great 
 sublimation of father and mothrr, ra'lier tba . revivals and reproductions 
 of the early childish ideas of the.n. ?.c]'gio;;3jcss leads biologically back 
 to the long-continued helplessness and i ced of tlie offspring of man, who, 
 when later he has recog.w/c h j ica! 1 ■■ .cluiCis, ani v.-eakaess against 
 the great powers of life, feels h'.s cohdi^ioa sinrlar to that of childhood, 
 and seeks to disavow this iorlom s.a e Ly regiessive renewal of the 
 infantile protective pov/ers." 
 
 "Nietzsche: " Frohliche Wissenscha'^f." Aphorism 157. " Mentiri — give 
 heed! — he muses: immediately he \' 11 lia.c a lie prepared. This is a 
 stage of culture, upon which whole peoples have stood. One should 
 ponder over what the Romans meant by jneatiri ! " Actually the Indo- 
 Germanic root mentis, men, is the same for mentiri, memini and mens. 
 See Walde: " Lat. Etym.," sub. mei^dax, memini und mens. 
 
 "See Freud: Jahrbuch, Vol. Ill, p. 60. 
 
 "Bundehesh, XV, 27. The bull Sarsaok was sacrificed at the destruc- 
 tion of the world. But Sarsaok was the originator of the race of men: 
 he had brought nine of the fifteen human races upon his back through 
 the sea to the distant points of the compass. The primitive bull of 
 Gayomart has, as we saw above, most undoubtedly female and maternal 
 significance on account of his fertility. 
 
 " If for Silberer the mythological symbolism is a process of cognition 
 on the mythological stage {Jahrbuch, Vol. Ill, p. 664), then there exists, 
 between this view and mine, only a difference of standpoint, which deter- 
 mines a different manner of expression. 
 
 '* This series of representations begins with the totem meal. 
 
 '"Taurus is astrologically the Domicilium Veneris. 
 
 ^* There comes from the library of Asurbanipal an interesting Sumeric- 
 Assyrian fragment (Cuneiform Inscr., I, IV, 26, 6. Quoted by Gress- 
 mann: " Altorient. Text, und Bild.," I, p. loi): 
 "To the wise man he said: 
 A lamb is the substitute for a man. 
 He gives a lamb for his life. 
 He gives the heads of lambs for the heads of men," etc. 
 
 *' Compare the remarkable account in Pausanias: VI, 17, 9 ff. "While 
 sleeping, the sperma of Zeus has flowed down upon the earth; in time 
 has arisen from this a demon, with double generative organs; that of 
 a man, and that of a woman. They gave him the name of Agdistis. 
 But the gods changed Agdistis and cut off the male organs. Now when 
 the almond tree which sprang forth from this bore ripe fruit, the 
 daughter of the spring, Sangarios, took of the fruit. When she placed 
 it in her bosom, the fruit disappeared at once; but she found herself 
 pregnant. After she had given birth to the child, a goat acted as pro- 
 
558 THE SACRIFICE [pp. 428-483 
 
 tector: when he grew up, he was of superhuman beauty, so that Agdistis 
 fell in love with the boy. His relatives sent the full-grown Attis to 
 Pessinus, in order to marry the king's dauj^hter. The wedding song 
 was beginning when Agdistis appeared and in delirium Attis castrated 
 himself." 
 
 '"Firmicus: " De error, prof, rel.," XXVIII. Quoted by Robertson: 
 " Evang. Myths," p. 136, and Creuzer: " Symbolik," II, 332. 
 
 '* Pentheus, as a hero with a serpent nature; his father was Echion, 
 the adder. 
 
 '" The typical sacrificial death in the Dionysus cult. 
 
 ^'' In the festival processions they wore women's clothes. 
 
 " In Bith3'nia Attis was called TrdTrof (papa, pope) and Cybele, Ma. 
 In the early Asiatic religions of this mother-goddess, there existed fish 
 worship and prohibition against fish as food for the priests. In the 
 Christian religion, it is noteworthy that the son of Atargatis, identified 
 with Astarte, Cybele, etc., is called 'lA'^i'f (Creuzer: "Symbolik," II, 60). 
 Therefore, the anagram of the name of Christ = IH20Y2 XPI2T02 
 GEOYTIOS 2S2THP = IXGYS. 
 
 ''Spiegel: " Eran. Altertumskunde," 2, 76. 
 
 ''A. Nagel: " Der chinesische Kiichengott Tsau-kyun." Archiv fiir 
 Religionswissenschaft, XI, 23 ff. 
 
 '"' In Spiegel's " Parsigrammatik," pp. 135, 166. 
 
 *' Porphyrins says : wf ««' ravpog dT/fitovpyd^ gjv oMiOpaq koX yeviaeug deandrtjg 
 (As the bull is the Creator, Mithra is the Lord of birth). 
 
 *^ The death of the bull is voluntary and involuntary. When Mithra 
 strangles the bull, a scorpion bites the bull in the testicles (autumn 
 equinox). 
 
 *'Benndorf: "Bildwerke' des Lateran Museum," No. 547. 
 
 **"Textes et Monuments," I, 182. 
 
 *" In another place Cumont speaks of " the sorrowful and almost 
 morbid grace of the features of the hero." 
 
 ^° Infantilism is merely the result of the much deeper state of intro- 
 version of the Christian in contrast to the other religions. 
 
 ■" The libido nature of the sacrificed is unquestionable. In Persia, a 
 ram helped the first people to the first sin, cohabitation: it is also the 
 first animal which they sacrificed (Spiegel: "Eran. Altertumskunde," 
 Vol. I, p. 511). The ram is the same as the paradisical serpent, which 
 was Christ according to the Manichean version. The ancient Meliton 
 of Sardes taugh; that Christ was a lamb, similar to the ram in the 
 bush, which Abraham sacrificed in place of his son. Here the bush is 
 analogous to the cross (Fragment V, quoted by Robertson:' Ibid). 
 
 *' See above. "Blood bridegroom of the mother." From Joshua v:2 
 we learn that Joshua again instituted the circumcision and redemption 
 of the firstborn: "With this he must have substituted for the sacrifice 
 of children, which earlier it was the custom to offer up to Jehovah, the 
 sacrifice of the male foreskin" (Drews: " Christusmythe," I, p. 47). 
 
pp. 428-483] THE SACRIFICE 559 
 
 *' See Cumont: Ibid., p. loo. 
 
 •" The Zodiacal sign of the sun's greatest heat. 
 
 * This solution apparently concerns only the dogmatic symbolism. I 
 merely intimate that this sacrificial death was related to a festival of 
 vegetation or of Spring, from which the religious legend originated. 
 The folk customs contain in variations these same fundamental thoughts. 
 (Compare with that Drews: " Christusmythe," I, p. 37). 
 
 *^ A similiar sacrificial death is that of Prometheus. He was chained 
 to a rock. In another version his chains were drawn through a pillar, 
 which hints at the enchainment to a tree. That punishment was his 
 which Christ took upon himself willingly. The fate of Prometheus 
 therefore recalls the misfortune of Theseus and Perithoos, who remain 
 bound to the rock, the chthonic mother. According to Athenaeus, Jupiter 
 commanded Prometheus, after he had freed him, to wear a willow 
 crown and an iron ring, by which his lack of freedom and slavery was 
 symbolically represented. (Phoroneus, who in Argos was worshipped as 
 the bringer of fire, was the son of Melia, the ash, therefore tree-en- 
 chained.) Robertson compares the crown of Prometheus to the crown of 
 thorns of Christ. The devout carry crowns in honor of Prometheus, in 
 order to represent the captivity ("Evangelical Myths," p. 126). In this 
 connection, therefore, the crown means the same as the betrothal ring. 
 These are the requisites of the old Hierosgamos with the mother; the 
 crown of thorns (which is of Egyptian derivation according to 
 Athenaeus) has the significance of the painful ascetic betrothal. 
 
 ^' The spear wound given by Longinus to Christ is the substitute for 
 the dagger thrust in the Mithraic bull sacrifice: "The jagged tooth of 
 the brazen wedge " was driven through the breast of the enchained and 
 sacrificed Prometheus (Aeschylus: "Prometheus"). 
 
 *■* Mention must also be made of the fact that North German mythology 
 was acquainted with similar thoughts regarding the fruitfulness of the 
 sacrificial death on the mother: Through hanging on the tree of life, 
 Odin obtained knowledge of the Runes and the inspiring, intoxicating 
 drink which invested him with immortality. 
 
 "'' I have refrained in the course of this merely orienting investigating 
 from referring to the countless possibilities of relationship between dream 
 symbolism and the material disclosed in these connections. That is a 
 matter of a special investigation. But I cannot forbear mentioning here 
 a simple dream, the first which a youthful patient brought to me in the 
 beginning of her analysis. " She stands between high walls of snow 
 upon a railroad track with her small brother. A train comes, she runs 
 before it in deadly fear and leaves her brother behind upon the track. 
 She sees him run over, but after the train has passed, the little fellow 
 stands up again uninjured." The meaning of the dream is clear: the 
 inevitable approach of the " Impulse." The leaving behind of the little 
 brother is the repressed willingness to accept her destiny. The accept- 
 ance is symbolized by the sacrifice of the little brother (the infantile 
 personality) whose apparently certain death becomes, however, a resur- 
 rection. Another patient makes use of classical forms: she dreamed of 
 a mighty eagle, which is wounded in beak and neck by an arrow. If 
 we go into the actual transference phantasy (eagle = physician, arrow := 
 erotic wish of the patient), then the material concerning the eagle (winged 
 lion of St. Mark, the past splendor of Venice; beak — remembrances of 
 
56o THE SACRIFICE [pp. 428-483 
 
 certain perverse actions of childhood) leads us to understand the eagle 
 as a composition of infantile memories, which in part are grouped 
 around the father. The eagle, therefore, is an infantile hero who is 
 wounded in a characteristic manner on the phallic point (beak). The 
 dream also says: I renounce the infantile wish, I sacrifice my infantile 
 personality (which is synonymous with: I paralyze it, castrate the father 
 or the physician). In the Mithra mysteries, in the introversion the 
 mystic himself becomes aerSg, the eagle, this being the highest degree of 
 initiation. The identification with the unconscious libido animal goes 
 very far in this cult, as Augustine relates: " alii autem sicut aves alas per- 
 cutiunt vocem coracis imitantes, alii vero leonum more f remunt " (Some 
 move the arms like birds the wings, imitating the voice of the raven, 
 some groan like lions). 
 
 ■^^ Miss Miller's snake is green. The snake of my patient is also green. 
 In "Psychology of Dementia Praecox," p. i6i, she says: "Then a 
 little green snake came into my mouth; It had the finest, loveliest sense, 
 as if it had human understanding; it wanted to say something to me, 
 almost as if It had wished to kiss me." Spielrein's patient says of the 
 snake: "It is an animal of God, which has such wonderful colors, green, 
 blue and white. The rattlesnake is green; it Is very dangerous. The 
 snake can have a human mind. It can have God's judgment; it is a 
 friend of children. It will save those children who are necessary for 
 the preservation of human life" {Jahrbuch, Vol. Ill, p. 366). Here the 
 phallic meaning is unmistakable. The snake as the transformed prince 
 in the fairy tale has the same meaning. See Riklin: "Wish Fulfilment 
 and Symbolism in Fairy Tales." 
 
 "' A patient had the phantasy that she was a serpent which coiled 
 around the mother and finally crept into her. 
 
 "* The serpent of Epidaurus is, in contrast, endowed with healing power. 
 Similia similibus. 
 
 '"This Bleuler has designated as Ambivalence or ambitendency. 
 Stekel as "Bl-polarity of all psychic phenomena" (" Sprache des 
 Traumes," p. 535). 
 
 *" I am indebted for permission to publish a picture of this statuette 
 to the kindness of the director of the Veronese collection of antiques. 
 
 ** The " Deluge " is of one nature with the serpent. In the Woluspa 
 it is said that the flood is produced when the Midgard serpent rises up 
 for universal destruction. He is called " Jormungandr," which means, 
 literally, "the all-pervading wolf." The destroying Fenris wolf has also 
 a connection with the sea. Fen is found in Fensallr (Meersale), the 
 dwelling of Frigg, and originally meant sea (Frobenlus: Ibid., p. 179). 
 In the fairy stories of Red Riding Hood, a wolf is substituted In place 
 of a serpent or fish. 
 
 '^ Compare the longing of Holderlin expressed in his poem " Empedo- 
 cles." Also the journey to hell of Zarathustra through the crater of the 
 volcano. Death Is the entrance into the mother, therefore the Egyptian 
 king, Mykerinos, burled his daughter in a gilded wooden cow. That 
 was the guarantee of rebirth. The cow stood in a state apartment and 
 sacrifices were brought to it. In another apartment near the cow were 
 placed the images of the concubines of Mykerinos (Herodotus, II, p. 129 f). 
 
 •' Kluge : " Deutsche Etymologic." 
 
INDEX 
 
 Abegg, 182 
 
 Abelard, 16 
 
 Abraham, 6, 29, 143, 151, 162 
 
 Activity, displaced rhythmic, 160 
 
 Adaptation to environment, 14 
 
 Agni, 164, 185 
 
 Agriculture, 173 
 
 Aitareyopanishad, 178 
 
 Ambitendency, 194 
 
 Amenhotep IV, io6 
 
 Analogy, importance of, 156 
 
 Analysis of dreams, 9 
 
 Antiquity, brutality of, 258 
 
 Anxiety, representations of, 292 
 
 Arnold, Sir Edwin, 273, 355 
 
 Art, instinct of, 145 
 first, 177 
 
 Asceticism, 91 
 ^., Asterius, Bishop, 375 
 SjS Augustine, 90, 114 
 » Autismus, 152 
 
 Autoerotism, 176 
 
 Autonomy, moral, 262 
 
 Avenarius, R., 146 
 
 Aztec, 205 
 
 Baldwin, Mark, 17 
 
 Baptism, 357 
 
 Bergerac, Cyrano de, 43, 60, 
 
 119 
 Bergson, Henri, 314 
 Bertschinger, 203 
 Bhagavid-Gita, 195 
 Bingen, Hildegarde von, loi 
 Bleuler, Prof., 152, 194 
 Book of the Dead," " Egyptian, 
 
 278, 289, 314 
 Boring, act of, 157, 177 
 Bousset, 402 
 Brihadaranyaka-Upanishad, 174, 
 
 178, 313. 466 
 Bruno, Giordano, 25 
 Buddha, 273, 323, 344, 355 
 Bundehesh, 277 
 Burckhardt, Jacob, 40, 83 
 , Byron's "Heaven and Earth," 117 
 
 Cajsar, Julius, 317 
 Cannegieter, 281 
 Causation, law of, 59 
 Cave worship, 375 
 Chidher, 216, 219 
 Child, development of, 461 
 Childhood, valuations, 211 
 Children, analysis of, 207 
 
 regression in, 462 
 Christ, 30, 90, 135, 185, 217, 219, 
 225, 245, 252, 278, 344, 357, 
 372 
 
 and Antichrist, 403 
 
 death and resurrection, 449 
 
 sacrifice of, 475 
 Christianity, 78, 80, 85, 255 
 Chrysostomus, John, 113 
 Cicero, 136 
 
 City, mother symbolism of, 234, 241 
 Cohabitation, continuous, 236, 298 
 Coitus play, 167 
 
 wish, meaning of, 339 
 Communion cup, 410 
 Complex, 37 
 
 law of return, 56, 67 
 
 mass, 43 
 
 mother, 208 
 
 nuclear, 195 
 
 of representation, 70, 76, 95 
 Compulsion, unconscious, 454 
 Condensation, 6 
 Conflict, internal, 196, 328 
 Consciousness, birth of, 361 
 Creation, by means of thought, 58, 
 62 
 
 ideal, 64 
 
 from introversion, 416, 456 
 
 from mother, 286, 371 
 
 through sacrifice, 466 
 Creuzer, 268 
 Cross, 264, 278 
 
 meaning of, 296 
 Cult, Father-Son, 166 
 
 Earth, 173 
 Cumont, Franz, 83, 221, 225, 450, 
 473 
 561 
 
562 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Cyrano dc Bergerac, 43, 60, 119, 
 317 
 
 Dactyli, 132 
 
 Death, fear of, 304, 434 
 
 phantasies, 117 
 
 voluntary, 423 
 
 wish for, 320, 419 
 Dementia prascox, 141, 159, 461 
 Destiny of man, 390, 427 
 Deussen, 415, 466 
 Dieterich, 376, 450 
 Dismemberment, motive of, 267 
 Displaced rhythmic activity, 160 
 Domestication of man, 267, 304 
 Dragon, psychologic meaning, 402, 
 
 410 
 Dream, analysis, 9 
 
 interpretation of, 8 
 
 Nietzsche, 28 
 
 regression, 26 
 
 sexual assault, 10 
 
 sexual language of, 433 
 
 source of, 9 
 
 symbolism, 8, 12, 233 ~ 
 Drews, 147 
 Drexler, 275 
 
 Eleusinian mysteries, 373 
 Emmerich, Katherine, 322 
 Erman, 106 
 Erotic fate, 117 
 
 impression, 54, 67 
 Eusebius of Alexandria, 114 
 Evolution, 144 
 
 Fairy tales, interpretation of, 281 
 Family, separation from, 344 
 Fasting, 369 
 Father, 62, 98, 293 
 
 Imago, 55 
 
 transference, 71 
 Faust, 68, 88, 130, 181, 231, 245, 
 
 250, 283, 305, 349 _ 
 Fear, as forbidden desire, 389 
 Ferenczi, 47, 146 
 Ferrero, Guglielmo, 34 
 Finger sucking, 177 
 Firdusi, 315 
 Fire, onanistic phase of, 174 
 
 preparations of, 163, 165, 172 
 
 sexual significance, 167, 172 
 Firmicus, 379, 419 
 Flournoy, 37 
 France, Anatole, 15, 37 
 
 Francis of Assisi, 97 
 
 Frazer ("Golden Bough"), 367, 
 
 478 
 Freud, Sigmund, 12, 26, 29, 35, 37, 
 67. 71. 73, 81, 133, 139, 151, 
 189, 232, 281, 367, 421, 459 
 interpretation of the dream, 3 
 " Leonardo da Vinci," 7 
 source of the dream, 9 
 Frobenius, 237, 275, 280. 436 
 
 Galileo, 146 
 
 Gilgamesh, 365 
 
 God, as creator and destroyer, 70 
 
 as sun, 127 
 
 " becoming one with," 96 
 
 crucified, 295 
 
 fertilizing, 348 
 
 love of, 200 
 
 of creation, 69, 394 
 
 vs. erotic, 94 
 Goethe, 417 
 Gunkel, 286 
 
 Hand, erotic use of, 176 
 
 symbolism of, 206 
 Hartmann, 198 
 Hauptmann, Gerhart, 330 
 Hecate, mysteries of, 403 
 Heine, 353 
 Helios, 96, no, 221 
 Herd instinct, 201 
 Hero, 32, 191, 200, 379 
 
 as wanderer, 231 
 
 betrayal of, 38 
 
 birth of, 356 
 
 psychologic meaning, 135 
 
 sacrifice of, 452 
 
 teleological meaning, 347 
 Herodotus, 290 
 Herzog, 408 
 Hesiod, 147 
 
 Hiawatha, song of, 346 
 Hierosgamos, 274, 376 
 Holderlin, 182, 435, 436, 437, 440, 
 
 442, 443, 444, 445, 448, 452 
 Homosexuality, 34 
 Honegger, io8, 154 
 Humboldt, 349 
 Hypnagogic vision, 197 
 
 Idea, independence of, 84 
 Iliad, 274 
 Imago, Father, 55 
 Immortality, 227, 427 
 
INDEX 
 
 563 
 
 cest barrier, 72, 100, 266, 458, 461 
 
 phantasy, 3, 63, 404 
 
 problem, 171, 195, 230, 250, 289, 
 
 364, 454, 463 
 cestuous component, 172 
 dependence, battle for, 344 
 fantilism, 319, 431, 479 
 •nan, 184, 236 
 Projection, 146 
 roversion, 37, 50, 98, 193, 201, 
 
 329,. 367, 415 
 lysterical, 151 
 trilled, 336 
 s, 96, 264 
 
 ;hns, 311 
 
 nes, William, 21 
 
 let, Pierre, 142 
 
 isen, 225 
 
 V, Wandering, 215, 225 
 
 I, Book of, 58, 60, 68, 326 
 
 II, 17 
 
 1, Karl, 360 
 es, 6 
 
 thopanishad, 130 
 
 jler, 25 
 
 ige, 409 
 
 "an, 216 
 
 m, Adalbert, 162 
 
 Ipe, 21 
 
 5tner, 281 
 
 ( rd, 229 
 
 lia, 280 
 
 guage, 15 
 
 s. Speech, 16 
 
 ends, Judas, 37 
 
 clos, Ninon de, 4 
 
 do, 20, 47, 67, 71, 78, 94, 96, 
 
 101, 120, 128, 157, 193, 228, 249 
 > hero, 417 
 jfinition of, 135 
 ;scriptive conception, 144 
 ;sexualized, 149 
 jnetic conception, 144 
 
 opposition, 292, 308, 329 
 
 resistance, 422 
 troverting, 415 
 aeration of, 420 
 other, 289, 469, 474 
 pressed objects of, 203 
 ansference of, -368 
 insformation of, 171 
 ntiousness, 258 
 
 Life, fear of, 335 
 
 natural conception of, 343 
 Lilith, 279 
 Logos, 63 
 Lombroso, 212 
 
 Longfellow's "Hiawatha," 346 
 Lord's Supper, 372 
 Love, 193 
 
 infantile, 431 
 Lucius, io6 
 
 Macrobius, 226, 314 
 
 Maeder, 6 
 
 Maeterlinck, 64 
 
 Magdeburg, Mechthild von, 190, 
 
 314 
 Manilius, 182 
 Mary, 283, 302 
 Matthew, Gospel of, 92 
 Maurice, 297 
 
 Mauthner, Franz, 19 y 
 
 Maya, 283 
 Mayer, Robert, 138 
 Mead, 109 
 Meliton, 113 
 Mereschkowski, 403 
 'Messiah, 79 
 Miller, Miss Frank, 41 
 Milton, 52 
 Mind, archaic tendencies, 35 
 
 infantile, 36 
 Mithra, 104, no, 217, 221, 245, 
 
 278, 293, 372, 450, 471 
 Mithracisra, 78, 82, 85, 89, 96, loi, 
 
 108, 221, 225, 269, 314 
 Moral autonomy, 262 
 Mother, 98, 230, 241, 283 
 
 heavens as, 301, 456 
 
 imago, 250, 303, 319 
 
 libido, 469, 474 
 
 longing for, 335, 371, 428 
 
 love, 338 
 
 of humanity, 201 
 
 terrible, 196, 202, 243, 267, 280, 
 364, 405 
 
 transference, 71 
 
 twofold, 356, 387, 428 
 
 wisdom of, 452 ^ 
 Motive of dismemberment, 267 
 
 embracing and entwining, 272 
 Morike, 11, 354 
 Mouth, erotic importance of, 176'"^ 
 
 as instrument of speech, 176 
 Miiller, 295 
 Music, origin of, 165 
 
564 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Mysticism, 101 
 Mythology, 24, 240 
 
 Hindoo, 128 
 Myths, as dream images, 29 ksi 
 
 of rebirth, 272 
 
 religious, 262 
 
 Nakedness, cult of, 412 <«« 
 t Naming, importance of, 208 
 vNarcissus state, 337 
 Neuroses, hysteria and compulsion, 
 
 142 
 Nietzsche, 16, 23, 28, 72, 102, 104, 
 195, 327, 328, 337. 345. 414. 
 417, 418, 420, 423, 434. 447 
 on dreams, 28 
 Nodfyr, 166 
 
 Oedipus, 3, 202 
 Oegger, Abbi, 37 
 Onanism, 158, 175, 186 
 Osiris, 264, 436 
 Ovid, 325, 373, 469 
 
 "Paradise Lost," 52 
 Paranoia, 140 
 Paranoidian mechanism, 73 
 Pausanias, 274 
 Persecution, fear of, 332 
 Personality, dissociated, 37 
 Peter, 221, 222 
 Pfister, 6, 56 
 Phallic, cult, 33 
 
 symbolism, 228, 248, 310 
 Phallus, 105, 132 
 
 negative, 334 
 
 Sun, 108 »=«, 
 
 Phantasy, how created, 31 
 
 infantile, 462 
 
 onanistic, 175 
 
 sexual, 140 
 
 source of, 32, 460 
 
 thinking, 22 
 Philo of Alexandria, 113, 315 
 Pick, 37 
 Pindar, 325 
 Plato, 147, 388 
 
 Symposium, 34, 298 
 Plotinus, 147 
 Plutarch, 311, 375, 436 
 Poe, 66 
 
 Polytheism, 106 
 Pope, Roman, 200 
 Preiswerk, Samuel, 378 
 Presexual stage, 161, 171, 369 
 
 Primitive, reduction to, 259 
 "Procreation, self, 358 
 
 Projection, 73 
 
 Prometheus, 162 
 'Psychic energy, 142 
 
 Psychoanalysis, 75, 421 
 object of, 479 
 
 Psychoanalytic thinking, 257 
 
 Psychology, unconscious, 197 
 
 Psychopathology, 50 
 
 Ramayana, 239 
 Rank, 6, 12, 29, 356 
 Raven," "The, 66 
 Reality, adaptation to, 461 
 
 corrective of, 146, 261 
 
 function of, 144, 150, 416 
 
 principle of, 146 
 Rebirth, 240, 251, 272, 351 
 
 battle for, 364 
 Regression, 26, 27, 172, 173 
 
 to the mother, 369 
 Religion, benefits of, 99 
 
 and morality, 85 
 
 as a pose, 82, 260 
 
 sexuality, 78 
 
 source of, 474 
 
 vs. orgies, 412 
 Renan, 127 
 Renunciation, 444 
 
 Repression, 6, 67, 73, 150, 161, 342 
 Resistance, 196 
 Resistance to primitive sexuality, 
 
 156 
 Revelation, iii, 244 1 
 
 Rhythm, sexual, 165 \ 
 
 Rigveda, 165, 247, 367, 393, 41^, 
 416, 456, 465 ^ 
 
 Riklin, 6, 29, 281 
 Robertson, 378 
 Rochefoucauld, La, 195 
 Rodhe, 376, 407 
 Roscher, 326 
 Rose, symbolism of, 436 
 Rostand, 43 
 Rudra, 128 
 
 Sacrifice, 287, 294, 391, 452, 465, 
 478 
 
 Christian vs. Mithraic, 478 
 
 of bull, 473 
 
 retrogressive longing, 453, 465 
 Sainthood, difficulty of, 322 
 Schmid, 188 
 Scholasticism, 22 
 
INDEX 
 
 565 
 
 Schopennauer, 16, 136, 146, 198, 
 
 416, 467, 480 
 Science, 23, 84 
 
 vs. Mythology, 24 
 Self-consciousness, creation of, 303 
 Self-control, 73 
 Seneca, 78, 83, 85, 96 
 Sentimentality, 474 
 Serpent, 292 
 Sexual assault dream, 10 
 
 impulse, derivatives of, 144, 149 
 
 problem, treatment of, 454 
 Sexuality, and nutrition, 161 
 
 and religion, 78 
 
 cult of, 256 
 
 importance of, 342 
 
 resistance to primitive, 156, 170 
 Shakespeare, 317 
 " Shiestashvataropanishad," 128 
 " Siegfried," Wagner's, 391 
 Silberer, 6, 234 
 Snake, phallic meaning of, no, 413 
 
 as symbol of death, 408 
 Sodomy, 34 
 Soma, 185 
 
 Somnambulism, intentional, 192 
 Sophocles, 332 
 Soul, conception of, 299 
 Speech, 14 
 
 origin of, 178 
 Sphinx, 202 
 Spielrein, 154, 449 
 St. Augustine, 82 
 Stage, presexual, 161, 171, 369 
 Steinthal, 156 
 Stekel, 12 
 
 Subject vs. object, 360 
 Sublimation, 64, 150, 254 
 Suckling, act of, 160 
 Sun, 95, 217, 223, 390, 427 . 
 
 as God, 99, 127 
 
 energy, 128 
 
 hero, 112, 115, 191, 231 
 
 night journey of, 237 
 
 phallus, 108 
 
 worship, 114 
 Surrogates, archaic, 154 
 Symbolism, Christian, 115 — 
 Christian vs. Mithraic, 478 
 
 of arrow, 321, 366 
 " cit}', 234, 241 
 " crowd, 233 
 " dreams, 8, 12 
 " eating, 372 
 " everyday thought, 13 
 
 Symbolism of eyes, 301 
 
 of fish, 223 
 
 " forest, 307 
 
 " horse, 308 
 
 " libido, 105 
 
 " light, 112 
 
 " moon, 352 
 
 " mother, 241, 278 
 
 " mystery, 233 
 
 " serpent, 333, 414, 417, 479 
 
 " sun, 390 
 
 " sword, 393 
 
 " trees, 246, 264, 385 
 
 phallic, 33, 228, 248 
 Symbols, use of, 249, 262, 400 
 Symean, loi 
 
 Tertullian, 114 
 Theatre, 43 
 Thinking, 13 
 
 act of, 459 
 
 archaic, 28 
 
 directed or logical, 14, 36 
 
 dream, 22 
 
 intensive, 13 
 
 limitations of, 19 
 
 of children, 27 
 
 origin of, 465 
 
 phantastic, 22, 31, 36 
 
 psychoanalytic, 257 
 Time, symbol of, 313 
 Transference, 75, 76, 171, 201 
 
 real, 77, 78, 84 
 
 to nature, 82 
 Transformation, 155 
 Treading, symbolic meaning of, 349 
 Treasure, difficult to attain, 186, 
 365 
 
 guardian of, 293, 408 
 Tree of Death, 278 
 Tree of Life, 246 
 Trinity, 147, 225 
 
 Unconscious, 197, 201 
 Upanishad, 131, 247, 466 
 
 Verlaine, Paul, 483 
 Vinci, Leonardo da, 7, 403 
 Virgil, 90 
 Virgin Mother, 63 
 Vollers, 221 
 
 Wagner's " Siegfried," 391 
 
 Waitz, 353 
 
 Water, symbolism of, 244, 384, 388 
 
566 INDEX 
 
 Watschandies, 167 Work as a duty, 455 
 
 Weber, 165 World as mother, 456 
 
 Will, conception of, 146 Wundt, 17 
 
 duality of, 194 
 
 original division of, 171 Zarathustra, 423 
 
 Wind as creator, 108, 354 Zend Avesta, 464 
 
 Wirth, 115 Zosimos vision, 416 
 
 Woman, misunderstood, 342 Zockler, 278, 296 
 
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