Psychoanalysis 
Beyond Psychoanalysis 
and 
Psycho-Cosmology SjwitA Psychoanalysis 
and 
Beyond Psychoanalysis 
by Leonard L. Landis, M.D. 
Formerly: Assistant Clinical Instructor at Post-Graduate Hospital 
and the University of New York Internal Medicine Department; 
Attached to the Outdoor Departments Bellevue, Demilt and 
Mt. Sinai Hospitals; Assistant Lecturer at the Polyclinic; 
Medical and School Inspector of the Board of Health of the 
City of New York; Attending Surgeon to the Ophthalmic 
and Aural Institute; Surgeon to the Panama R. R. 
Company; Chief of Clinic in Genito-Urinary Diseases 
in Lebanon Hospital; Examining Physician of the 
Order of Pythias and Ladies of the Golden Star; 
Chief Examiner in the Order of Independent 
Sons; Assistant to Dr. Lustgarten of Mt. 
Sinai Hospital. Ex-member County Medic- 
al Society and Association; Editor-in- 
Chief of the "Life and Health" Maga- 
zine. Present National Chairman 
of the American Association 
of Independent Physicians, Etc. 
MCMXXIV 
AMERICAN ASSOCIATION OF 
INDEPENDENT PHYSICIANS Copyright 1926 by 
Leonard L. Landis CONTENTS 
PAGE 
Introduction vii 
I. The Meaning of Psychoanalysis 1 
IL The Manner and Method of Freud 5 
III. Other Authorities and Their Findings 11 
IV. Adler-Theory of the Neurosis 17 
V. Jung-Myth and Libido 26 
VI. Preliminary Notes on Sex and Emotions 35 
VII. The Dream 42 
VIII. The Freudian Trail 58 
IX. In Further Pursuit 69 
X. New Doors to the Unknown 78 
XL More Doors 92 
XII. Medicine and Religion 100 
XIII. The Subconscious 104 
XIV. The Neurosis Again 111 
XV. The Energy Theory 120 
XVI. Psychic Infection 127 
XVII. The Centre of Perfection 133 
PSYCHOANALYSIS CONTENTS (Continued) 
PAGE 
XVIII. The Circle of Life 137 
XIX. Psychics and Physics 141 
XX. Beyond 146 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
Introduction 157 
I. The Meaning of Psycho-Cosmology 163 
II. Psycho-Cosmology and the Unconsci- 
ous 174 
III. Psycho-Cosmology and the Perfection 
Urge 183 
IV. Psycho-Cosmology and the Fourth Di- 
mension 192 
V. Psycho-Cosmology and the New Way 
to Truth 200 
Index 209 INTRODUCTION 
TT seems the world has not yet made up its mind 
1 about Sigmund Freud, the founder of psychoanal- 
ysis. Whether to credit him with having actually 
evolved a new psychology or to regard the whole 
subject as merely a new name for such long-familiar 
practices as confession, casting-out-devils, rabbi-con- 
sultation, fright-charming, and other devices of min- 
istration applied to the sick, is still, in many quar- 
ters, a debated question. 
For my own part, I believe that psychoanalysis, 
in view of what it has accomplished, ought to be as 
much of an accepted doctrinal science today as any 
other demonstrated theory; and one of the objects 
of such a book as this is to help establish the truth 
in the mind of the lay reader. I purpose, therefore, 
in the earlier part of my work, to devote consider- 
able space to a discussion of the views of Freud, 
together with the views of those that have come 
after him, and then, in the latter part, to set down 
my own theories. 
I trust it will not be out of place, in this introduc- 
tion, to trace briefly some of the processes of my 
mind toward a conception of psychoanalytic planes 
beyond those treated of by any of my predecessors. 
The reader, thus, I believe, will be able more intim- 
ately to follow out, later on, such original sugges- 
tions in the study as I may have to offer-contribu- 
tions embracing theories which I evolved gradually 
by analyzing the workings of my own soul life, in 
addition to studying the experiences of hundreds of 
others who, in the course of thirty years' medical 
practice, came to me for assistance. 
vii viii 
INTRODUCTION 
As a youth at school, I was what one might call 
a knowledge enthusiast. I absorbed myself in a 
study in much the same manner that people become 
absorbed in a passion; and indeed, this thirst for 
knowledge was so absolute and exclusive as to make 
interest in all other studies, for the time, impossible. 
My "first love" was geography. To know the ex- 
tent and limits of the physical world-this was my 
only concern, until I turned with as much avidity to 
a study of history. I was next curious to learn of 
worlds beyond our own, and became immersed in 
astronomy. And in astronomy I found not only the 
subject which fascinated me above all others, but 
one which gave opportunities for the expression of 
what was already developing within me-psychic 
vision. 
I studied medicine, as I did physiology and psy- 
chology, to get a knowledge of the workings of 
the human machine, and to help me toward a surer 
understanding of the interrelations between physics 
and psychics. From psychology it was but a step 
to psychoanalysis. And psychoanalysis, it seems, 
offered the best solution yet to some of the most com- 
plex mysteries surrounding the hidden side of things. 
I came to believe in psychoanalysis because, to speak 
pragmatically, it worked. Apart from its admittedly 
great therapeutic value, which alone should entitle 
it to universal acclaim, psychoanalysis has been the 
means of opening up new pathways to the invisible. 
Through and beyond psychoanalysis, we enter un- 
trodden wildernesses whence, returning, we may 
bring back to the heart of man faith in the life 
eternal. 
Here, in this book, we shall be mainly concerned 
with psychoanalysis as a means of coming to a more 
satisfactory conclusion as to (1) the nature and 
purpose of matter, (2) the relation of energy to 
matter, or the physical to the physical, and (3) the 
question as to whether, through the perfection of INTRODUCTION 
ix 
what I call our "subconscious senses" we shall not be 
able to comprehend truly not only the present physi- 
cal cosmos, but the greater psychical cosmos 
as well. In the same light, in fact, that the 
Russian philosopher-mathematician, Ouspensky, 
considers time as an extension of space, as the long- 
sought-for fourth dimension, so I regard the sub- 
conscious matter evolving within us as an extension 
of the matter of which we are aware and making 
daily use of. This subconscious matter, when fully 
developed, will operate in a fourth dimension as 
easily as physical matter operates today in a uni- 
verse of only three. If, therefore, we give thought 
to the "formidable divinity" within us, nourish it, 
believe in it, assert it, and cultivate it, we shall 
get to the point where the whole noumenal world 
will lie before us, comprehensible and comprehended. 
A few words in justification of my title, "Beyond 
Psychoanalysis." 
Freud, Adler, Jung, and others have broken 
considerable ground, and pretty well covered it. But 
they have left great, untrodden tracts ahead of them. 
This book purposes to carry the findings of Freud 
and the whole psychoanalytic school into the realm 
of more immediate practicability; to prove that our 
senses may be helped on the evolutionary road of 
perfectability; to show that, through a proper under- 
standing of the substratal seethings and bubblings 
of the mind, the eye can be further sharpened, the 
ear more delicately attuned and our sensibilities given 
finer direction. I am attempting to enter those 
wildernesses equipped, I am frank to say, with but a 
handful of new ideas which may or may not throw a 
cataclysmic light into this second darkness. PSYCHOANALYSIS I 
THE MEANING OF PSYCHOANALYSIS 
PSYCHOANALYSIS is a comparatively new 
science. Forty years ago Freud was unknown. 
Today his name is known all over the world. We 
talk so glibly now of the subconscious, dream-sym- 
bolism, complexes, repressed desires, etc., that we 
are apt to forget that these terms, in their new appli- 
cation, are of the most recent coinage. At the dinner 
table, in the lecture-hall, on the street, at the fire- 
side, the Freudian theories take precedence over 
practically all other topics of interest. The ques- 
tion of what to do with our impulses gives rise to 
interminable discussions and very often, as one 
might suppose, to heated scenes. The enemies of 
Freud are quick to assail while his endorsers are hot 
to defend. 
Clearly, the need for a correct understanding of 
the whole subject-or at least its most fundamental 
principles-is urgent, if we would save ourselves 
from the reproach of ignorance. Technical treatises 
translated from the German are many, but they are 
forbidding, and the stress of modern life precludes 
the average reader, the man who would know, 
from gathering his knowledge from a detailed 
examination of hundreds of medical dissertations 
and text-books. We have become accustomed 
to catch our knowledge on the wing, whether for 
good or ill. Once, however, we grasp the essence of 
psychoanalytic doctrine, it will not be so difficult 
to tread the mazes of its ramifications. The reader 
will then be in a position to enter easily upon new 
perspectives such as it is my purpose to present as 
I proceed. 
1 2 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
Once taken up, the study of psychoanalysis cannot 
very well be abandoned. It has the fascination of 
science and the mystery of the arts to recommend 
it. The foundation, in fact, of all art is the idea as 
it is conceived and grows in the imagination. This 
process psychoanalysis deals with-especially as the 
idea, in the dream, dramatizes itself into all forms of 
art. Our main concern, however, will be with the 
deeper layers of consciousness, where the ultimate 
truths are hidden and operate-that chaotic abyss 
where a thousand and one motives, scruples, doubts, 
and conflicting fears swarm, and out of which there 
will spring finally the "dancing stars" of our souls. 
From the more specialized standpoint of pathology, 
psychoanalysis offers a practical method of probing 
functional disorders and curing diseased states of 
mind. We might call it psychical surgery. It pierces 
beneath the erratic thought, the wayward impulse, 
the controlling idea, into the half-lighted jungle 
growths of consciousness. 
It is common to speak of two groups or schools of 
psychoanalysts: the Vienna group, headed by Prof. 
Sigmund Freud, and the Zurich or Swiss school, 
headed by Carl Jung. The circumstances attending 
the birth of the science must be a twice-told tale, 
but no matter how often the facts are rehearsed, 
they retain a perennial interest. Briefly stated, the 
story is something like this: In 1881, while Freud 
was finishing his studies in Vienna, Dr. Breuer, an 
elder colleague, was treating a hysterical girl of 
twenty-one. She was extremely intelligent and had 
been suffering for two years from a variety of 
physical, mental, and strongly emotional disturb- 
ances. Despite normal vital organs, her condition 
appeared serious. It appears that her illness first 
became evident while she was nursing her father, 
to whom she was greatly attached. During a period 
of memory lapse one day, her mother heard her THE MEANING OF PSYCHOANALYSIS 
3 
mumble some words to herself. When the doctor 
hypnotized her, later on, and repeated the words, 
she related a number of forgotten memories, after 
which she seemed to feel better. Repeated treat- 
ment by this talking cure restored her to normal 
mental life. Her symptoms of hysteria were diag- 
nosed as remnants of painful memories which had 
originated in psychic injuries or shocks. 
Freud was deeply impressed and began a system- 
atic observation of hysteria cases. In 1895, in col- 
laboration with Dr. Breuer, he published "Studies 
in Hysteria." He concluded that hysterical patients 
suffer from reminiscences; that they cannot escape 
from their past. To effect a cure, it was essential 
to release imprisoned emotions by recalling the scene 
connected with the psychic shock. Freud inferred 
that consciousness involved a double personality: 
the conscious mental state and the subconscious. For- 
gotten memories it seems, are such as have been 
dropped from consciousness to be repressed into the 
field of the subconscious, whence they are ever ready 
to emerge and form associations. In this manner 
phobias, obsessions, and hysterias are born and 
become the exciting cause of such symptoms as in- 
hibitions, hallucinations, morbid fears, compulsions, 
etc. Where the individual cannot reconcile a wish 
with his principles of conduct, a conflict follows and 
ends in repression: a kind of forgetting. It is a 
make-shift device of nature to avoid pain and pro- 
tect the personality. Of course the desire is not 
killed: it sleeps in the unconscious, or-as we prefer 
to call it-the subconscious. As a rule, repressed 
wishes can be traced back to childhood, and are 
sexual in nature. 
When a group of ideas is bound together by a 
common emotional tie, we have, in the words of the 
Zurich group, a "complex." To illustrate: a man 
commits murder and keeps the secret of his crime 
to himself. In time a murder-nucleus will form, col- 4 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
lecting about it a mass of associated ideas and feel- 
ings. These may voluntarily be pushed into the back- 
ground of the conscious and, in time, seem to fade 
away. But the fact is, the murder-nucleus never 
dies, but keeps on growing, and the ideas which the 
crime brought in its wake continue to gather and in- 
crease in number, notwithstanding that the mur- 
derer may not be aware of this result. Unobserved 
and unrealized, these notions and feelings brought 
into being by the crime, enter into the daily acts and 
thoughts of the malefactor. The fear of discovery 
of course auxiliates the nucleus, as in modern society, 
where the criminal is a hunted animal. In a con- 
scionable being, the murder-nuclei will multiply so 
fast as at last to drag him to confession in order 
to find relief. The incidents in Dostoieffsky's "Crime 
and Punishment," and Edgar Allan Poe's "Imp of the 
Perverse" very well illustrate this point. 
It is the summoning or calling up of forgotten 
or repressed memories at the bottom of the sub- 
conscious for the purpose of discharging them 
into the conscious that the technique of psy- 
choanalysis achieves. By touching the sore spots 
in the subconscious life of the patient, the most 
hidden secrets are irrupted into the field of the con- 
scious and melt away like bubbles on the surface of 
the water. Sometimes, it is curious to note, the 
patient himself will resist the process and interpose 
an emotional counter-will. To overcome this resis- 
tance becomes the chief task of the physician. II 
THE MANNER AND METHOD OF FREUD 
TN the actual treatment of neurotics and neuras- 
1 thenics Freud discovered that the best results 
could generally, if not invariably, be obtained by plac- 
ing the patient at his ease. The patient is told to 
assume a restful position on a couch; to look away 
from the physician and to talk freely along any line 
of thought that may please his fancy. The patient 
must observe one rule; not to be his own critic. In 
the final estimate, all pauses, hesitations, slips, for- 
getfulnesses and emphases on the part of the sub- 
ject are considered and go a long way toward 
assisting the examiner to reach the complex. 
The psychoanalyst has many methods at hand for 
probing. Hypnosis, used rather sparingly by Freud 
years ago, has been given up. Practitioners found 
that even if it penetrated to the cause it did not 
remove the symptom, and that, further, no perma- 
nent results followed. However, the analyst may 
still make use of the association test, undertake 
dream-interpretation, follow out hints given when 
the consciousness is off guard, or study the symp- 
tomatic acts and slips of everyday life. 
The association test took form when Carl G. Jung 
drew up a list of one hundred words which he used 
as definite tests in the examination of his mentally- 
afflicted patients. From ten to twenty of these 
words have to bear in some way upon the nature of 
the case to be analyzed. Each word is pronounced 
aloud to the patient, who is told to utter instantly 
thereafter the first word or words that come to his 
5 6 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
mind. The reaction time is noted (i.e. the time it 
takes for the responding word to be uttered) in 
seconds or units of .2 seconds. When the test is 
finished, the answers are examined and charted. 
The slowest reactions in the list (i.e., the words that 
brought forth responding words from the patient 
in the longest time) indicate the emotional state or 
complex. 
Here is an example of a normal type as recorded 
by Jung and Peterson: 
STIMULUS 
REACTION WORD 
REACTION TIME 
WORD 
In Seconds 
1. head 
hair 
1.4 
2. green 
meadow 
1.6 
3. water 
deep 
5.0 
4. stick 
knife 
1.6 
5. long 
table 
1.2 
6. ship 
sink 
3.4 
7. ask 
answer 
1.6 
8. wool 
knit 
1.6 
9. spiteful 
friendly 
1.4 
10. lake 
water 
4.0 
11. sick 
well 
1.8 
12. ink 
block 
1.2 
13. swim 
can swim 
3.8 
The patient in question, during a recent attack 
of depression, it appeared, had determined to commit 
suicide by drowning. The complex showed itself 
in the associations which required the longest re- 
action-time. These are 3, 6, 10, and 13, which are 
in heavy face type. 
Anyone may make the experiment. Jung held that 
it was possible, by means of the association test, 
to obtain information concerning the principal com- 
plexes in the mind of a given subject. The method 
has since been considerably developed. It is useful 
in preliminary investigations and indicates directions 
along which subsequent detailed analysis may most 
profitably be conducted. 
As the dream is the royal road to the subconscious, 
its utility for arriving at a diagnosis of the patient's THE MANNER AND METHOD OF FREUD 
7 
condition is indisputable. In my chapter on ''The 
Dream" I give a detailed outline of Freud's method 
in employing this phenomenon. 
Freud shows that no psychological moment is 
without its special history. See his book called 
"Psychopathology of Everyday Life," wherein he 
treats brilliantly of this phase of the subject. We 
live in a cause and effect world, Freud contends, even 
in the realm of the psychic. The forgetting of 
proper names, mistakes in speaking, in writing, or 
in reading, the automatic carrying out of purposive 
acts, the misplacing or breaking of objects-all these 
are ingeniously explained as impulses springing from 
suppressed wishes that have resulted in complexes. 
Simple acts, therefore, of omission, though appar- 
ently of no consequence, are pregnant with meaning 
and equivalent in many instances to symptoms. 
From a given act or situation it is generally not 
difficult to arrive at an interpretation. The more 
practised physician will arrive at one sooner, and 
hit upon the truth much more readily than the 
novice. 
Any device that will succeed in bringing the sub- 
conscious under examination is satisfactory. Per- 
sonally, I believe that one must create a different 
technique or bring a different test to bear on each 
individual case. 
What changes take place in the subconsciousness 
of the patient during treatment and cure? An 
answer which is satisfactory explains that the symp- 
toms dissolve by transfer: i.e., complexes are 
changed into other psychic products. What is called 
"transfer" in psychology is a spontaneous reaction 
that takes place when patient and physician meet. 
What becomes of the freed wishes? In the 
first place, repression is succeeded by unconscious 
condensation. The stronger impulses prevail over 
the weaker ones. In the second plqce, wish-emotions 
from childhood are used for purposes that might be 8 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
called vicarious; that is to say, they are sublimated. 
In the third place, repression is quite commonly re- 
moved by direct fulfilment or satisfaction. 
The methods of therapy as laid down by Freud 
and his followers are being adapted and modified 
for use in psychological clinics throughout the world. 
It might be well to mention the Southern California 
Association of Applied Psychology, for instance, 
which takes care of the unfit, the subnormal, and the 
wastrels until they are "brought to a normal level 
of efficiency." Clinical psychologists are appearing 
as a distinct professional body, not to mention psy- 
choanalysts. 
In the United States, Dr. A. A. Brill was on§ of 
the first to practice and profess the Freudian 
method. Other prominent physicians followed soon 
after, among them Drs. J. J. Putnam, T. Burrow, 
S. E. Jelliffe, W. A. White, and Edward J. Kempf. 
OBJECTIONS REFUTED. 
The enemies of psychoanalysis have raised many 
objections. Among these is the charge that by 
over-emphasizing the sexual import or suggesting 
fulfilment of impulses rather than repression, we 
shall be removing the safeguards of social morality. 
Dr. T. Burrow answers this objection effectively, I 
think. He declares that a fear morality is after all 
a sick morality, a morality that will finally destroy 
the people who follow it; for the basis of such mor- 
ality is repression. "To escape the deadlock of re- 
pression by helping men and women overcome their 
resistances and, unafraid, place themselves at one 
with the healthy, forward-tending processes of life 
-such is the essential meaning of psychoanalysis." 
And if we interpret Freud aright, I think he comes 
to the same conclusion. Freud does not espouse a 
foolish satisfaction of one's every impulse. Nor does 
Dr. Burrow. They both desire, however, that the 
impulse be not driven back into the subconsciousness, THE MANNER AND METHOD OF FREUD 
9 
there to develop and color the body and soul 
that house it, but that it be brought out on the sur- 
face and fought in the open. It does not follow that be- 
cause an impulse should not be repressed it should 
be satisfied. Psychoanalysts only seek to get the 
patient to master it rather than be mastered by it. 
Our fear-morality, which asks us to repress every 
emotion which is not considered quite respectable, 
is no doubt responsible in an appreciable measure 
for much of the insanity which exists today, and 
which fills our hospitals and asylums to overflowing. 
A typical objection to the practice of the psycho- 
analytic treatment is made by Dr. Peterson. "I 
doubt," he says, "if any persons have been benefitted 
by this treatment. It requires months or years of 
work over each case, and it is very expensive. I 
have, on the other hand, seen very bad results from 
the psychoanalysis of young men and women, per- 
manent insanity and even suicide; and if it were 
not destined to be short-lived, I should advocate a 
law to prevent its employment in the treatment of 
young people." 
Such a pronunciamento is typical of the anato- 
mical-pathological mind without vision. Of course, 
time, patience, and skill are necessary. Phobias and 
manias built up through a period of years cannot be 
cured in a day. Besides, the fault in the instances 
cited lies not in the science but in the application of 
its method. Incompetents and quacks always dis- 
credit every new theory or practice by their half- 
way modes of operation. And it is always the in- 
competents and quacks who must be left out of con- 
sideration in a candid estimate of any treatment. 
Once comprehended, the value of psychoanalysis 
will not be measurable. Distress in the psychic 
world, so much more poignant than in the material, 
needs mitigation and relief. And if clearing the sub- 
conscious through psychoanalytic methods will ac- 
complish only one result, the ridding of subtle and 10 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
hitherto incomprehensible fears, then psychoanaly- 
sis will achieve as grand a triumph for humanity as 
any science has yet accomplished. Ill 
OTHER AUTHORITIES AND THEIR FINDINGS 
'K HOUGH still in its infancy, psychoanalysis has 
1 already begun to depart from the purely medical 
aspect. It has given us a new point of vantage from 
which to regard such social problems as sex, educa- 
tion, esthetics, mythology, ethics, art, law, religion, 
etc. Not since Darwin, in 1850, promulgated his 
evolutionary theory has such an electrical storm 
swept across the world of human knowledge. The 
effect, however, has not been iconoclastic. Old 
theories have not been thrown into the waste-heap 
for the sake of new ones per se. The roots of know- 
ledge have merely gone deeper into the soil. The 
discovery of the realm of the subconscious has 
caused what amounts to a panic of exploration 
among scholars, and the influence seems to be en- 
during. Of course, some of the attempts to throw 
a psychoanalytic light upon various subjects of in- 
quiry have been pitiably inept. Still, a beginning 
has been made which may very likely lead to start- 
ling revelations. 
In the matter of the sex-life of the child, several 
German scholars have continued along the lines laid 
down by Freud. When first announced to the world, 
his sex theory aroused a veritable tempest. He 
affirmed the rather astonishing doctrine that the 
child, from the very beginning of life, has sexual im- 
pulses and activities. Sex in the child is, however, 
entirely dissociated from the function of reproduc- 
tion. To describe this infantile condition Freud 
borrowed from Havelock Ellis the term "auto-ero- 
11 12 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
ticism." The sex-life, it was pointed out, is mani- 
fested in certain bodily zones, called erogenous zones. 
Thumb-sucking, scratching, masturbating, inflicting 
pain on another (sadism), are all so many expres- 
sions of a developing sex-life which becomes definite- 
ly organized at the close of puberty. As the child 
matures beyond the period of puberty, it is forced 
to repress impulses through shame, disgust, and 
the restraints of morality. 
Dr. H. von Hug-Hellmuth has written a mono- 
graph on the mental life of the child in which, with 
Teutonic thoroughness, she expands the Freudian 
formula. She argues that the child, in sucking, seeks 
not only to appease hunger but to get pleasurable 
sensations. It is a form of infantile onanism. Rock- 
ing, swinging, being thrown up into the air, skin 
stimulation of the bath, and exposure of the naked 
body, all minister to the child's sex instincts. Kiss- 
ing and gentle biting also reveal sex urges. 
In "The Child's Unconscious Mind," by Wilfred 
Lay, there is an attempt at exposing the unconscious 
mental activities of the child. The thesis rests on 
two assumptions: first, that all activity is based on 
the sex urge; and second, that all errors are results 
of unconscious wishes. Mr. Lay's position is a fumb- 
ling effort, I regret to say, to unite education with 
psychoanalysis. 
Researches and findings in the psychology of sex 
by the generality of investigators have run parallel 
to the conclusions reached by Freud. Some 
take issue with him; some will not go so far; some 
go even further. Literature on the subject bulks 
large. Within recent years, the study of sex has 
been pursued more frequently and intensely along 
psychoanalytic lines than along any other. 
Freud was the first to enlarge the scope of analy- 
tic psychology, to suggest new fields for research, 
and to indicate the relation of the myth to primitive 
wishes that had been repressed. The major part of OTHER AUTHORITIES 
13 
Jung's work has been the exploration of history and 
folk-lore for an insight into the foundations of in- 
dividual psychology. "The unlocking of historic 
problems through psychoanalytic knowledge drawn 
from the activity of the modern unconscious mind," 
he says, "throws light backward toward the nature 
of our ancestors." K. Abrahams, a later investigator, 
who has studied myth and dream, conceives the 
myth as containing, in an abridged form, the out- 
grown mental life of a people, especially its infantile 
wishes. As a result of these studies, primitive man 
and primitive culture have come to be regarded in 
a new and quite different light. But we have become 
interested in the myth, not for itself but on account 
of the mental processes involved in the origination 
and formation of impulses behind it. 
With regard to the regulation of instinct in primi- 
tive society, Freud's "Totem and Taboo" should be 
carefully gone over. His thesis may be summed up, 
as far as summing up is possible, by saying that 
taboos, like neuroses, "have their origin in and 
represent the end-result of contrary emotional ex- 
citations." Taboos were restraints imposed upon 
individuals for the sake of the good of the group- 
or the supposed good of the group, like some of 
the codes of our present morality. We must not for- 
get, however, that humanity will ride over its own 
laws, moving, as it does, to the tune of two princi- 
ples: pleasure and pain. Morals are made for man, 
not man for morals. We often act, however, as 
though it were the other way around. 
The sociologist has been attracted to Freud's 
theory of the sublimation of the instincts-a sort of 
conversion and idealization of sexual leanings into 
non-sexual channels. Most of our avocations, in 
which we become suddenly interested, may represent 
such sublimation. Men and women, denied satisfac- 
tion in love, often seek and find it in science, 
commerce, art, and other activities. Success 14 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
is thus brought on by society's balking at the native 
human instincts. It is this complementary field of 
psychology to which the economists must turn for 
a vitalization of their basic hypotheses. The dyna- 
mic psychology of today describes the present civili- 
zation as a repressive environment. For a great 
number of its inhabitants, a sufficient self-expres- 
sion is denied. 
Even the judiciary, it appears, has not escaped 
the psychoanalytic net. Theodore Schroeder, a 
champion of free speech, has emphasized the need 
of having every judge on the bench "submit himself 
to an expert psychoanalyst for so thorough an analy- 
sis that he (the judge) knows the source and be- 
havior of every impulse at work within him, even 
those which are usually working unconsciously, and 
to have a thorough knowledge of the use of the 
scientific method as applied to legal problems." 
Psychoanalysis has made inroads into the 
domain of literature. Introspection has developed 
the serious short story into an out-and-out charac- 
ter study, touching upon special facets of the human 
personality (witness the Russian short story 
writers). The novel of character has transformed 
itself into a psychoanalytic ramble, leading one into 
the stray paths of the subconscious. The interest 
is in the analysis, not in the event. The splitting 
or dismembering of personalities is manifest in the 
writings of many moderns like Henry James, Frank 
Swinnerton, D. H. Lawrence, Sherwood Anderson, 
Waldo Frank, Virginia Woolf, Floyd Dell and others. 
In a recent article on "Psychoanalysis and the 
Novel," J. D. Beresford says: "The deliberate intel- 
lectual use, in the pages of a novel, of the teachings 
of psychoanalysis produces an effect upon the 
reader that may be variously irritating, unconvinc- 
ing and negligible, but is rarely, if ever, psychologi- 
cally valuable ... a writer of genius such as 
Dostoievsky has in one sense forestalled the con- OTHER AUTHORITIES 
15 
elusions of this branch of psychology and used them 
to the benefit of literature." 
Van Wyck Brooks, in his "Ordeal of Mark Twain," 
has analyzed the thwartings and sullen outbursts of 
America's first humorist, from the viewpoint of 
psychoanalysis. 
Complex literary personalities like Medea, Hamlet, 
Faust, have been analytically probed. Freud himself 
resolves the Hamlet puzzle into the Oedipus complex 
in the following manner: Hamlet's uncle, guilty of 
murdering his brother, stands as a symbol for Ham- 
let's own repressed childhood desires. Hence his 
hesitation to avenge the crime and his refuge in 
dilatory speculation. 
"The Erotic Motive in Literature," by Professor 
Mordell, presents a series of psychoanalytic inter- 
pretations of authors and literary movements. 
Idealism or romanticism the writer regards merely 
as the fulfilment of the author's wishes. The Para- 
dise of Dante, The Celestial City of Bunyan, the 
Utopia of More represent so many desires to get 
away from reality. Sir Oliver Lodge's "Raymond" 
may be considered another dream of a hope. We all, 
it seems, create a world for ourselves in the outer 
universe to correspond to the need we feel for a 
world within our own souls. 
The popularity of "Robinson Crusoe," "Treasure 
Island," "Tarzan of the Apes" and all the books of 
legend and fairy is attributable to an unconscious 
yearning to revert to barbarous or childhood states 
(atavism). There is even a decided connection, as 
Georg Brandes pointed out in 1867, between the 
nursery tale and the state of the subconscious. "Day 
dreams," someone said, "are the beginning of liter- 
ary creation." We might add that genius is nothing 
other than a product of the subconscious. 
Masterpieces are born in the actualization of per- 
sonal wishes. Goethe's "Sorrows of Werther," 
Rousseau's "Nouvelle Heloise," "The Comedie Hu- 16 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
maine" of Balzac, the romantic dramas of Beaumont 
and Fletcher are monuments of such desires. 
Granted that literary gossip is interesting, the 
question arises whether psychoanalytic treatment 
of literary material is wise. There is much to say 
for and against it. The average reader may resent 
microscopic charting of the accidents of literary 
creation. He may be interested less in the process 
than in the product. He may not want to go looking 
for roots on the plains of Parnassus. On the other 
hand, there is an interesting body of readers who 
find nothing else so absorbing or worthwhile in 
literature as this psychoanalytic probing into the 
motives, deeds, and lives of the characters. 
There is, however, the grave danger of making 
out of psychoanalysis a royal road to learning and 
success. Popular psychologies of efficiency have 
sprung up like mushrooms. There is too much talk 
about varying selves, memory enhancement, higher 
mental planes, automatic thinking, and other bewild- 
ering pomposities which feed and flatter the minds of 
those who want to know everything with the least 
possible effort. The "great within" is pish-posh. 
Throwing a wordy mystery about the fundamental 
facts of psychology will result in more harm than 
good. The genuine is being choked by the spurious. 
Such a course of development is to be deplored since 
it discredits the important conclusions of psycho- 
analysis. IV 
ADLER - THEORY OF THE NEUROSIS 
0NE of Freud's most notable and ardent followers 
has been Dr. Alfred Adler of Vienna. For 
many years Adler observed psychical disorders, and 
successfully applied the Freudian technic as a cure. 
Gradually, however, after much practice and experi- 
mentation, Adler diverged from the master in his 
conception of the cause of the neurosis, and for- 
mulated his own theory. "It is time I got out of the 
shadow of that man," he remarked, not so much in 
resentment as in self-justification. 
Within the pages of this chapter, I purpose to com- 
press the essence of Dr. Adler's contribution as set 
forth in his "Neurotic Constitution." I shall try to 
avoid the formidable technical jargon with which his 
work, in the original, is honeycombed. 
Dr. Adler goes to the biological basis of life. He is 
frankly a materialist. For him the psychic conflict 
is rooted in the organic, and the fundamental 
element in the neurosis is the feeling of inferiority 
on the part of the patient. Now this feeling 
of inferiority Adler invariably traces back to 
an inferior organ in the physical make-up of 
the individual, just as Freud sees the origin of every 
dream in a frustrated wish fulfilment. 
My own belief is rather a combination of both 
Adler and Freud. I think neuroses are the result 
of repressions, but that these repressions are unful- 
filled wishes toward perfection, the inferior ele- 
ments in us striving constantly to become superior. 
For me, therefore, repressions are psychologically 
17 18 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
causative, and the true sources of the neurosis. 
We see this in marriages, in the constant 
struggle between man and wife, each desiring 
to assert and gain the mastery. In any partnership 
the same contest is evident. We see it also among 
groups, nations, and whole races. For Adler, how- 
ever, the neurosis is limited to the organic and de- 
rived from the effort of the patient constantly to 
overcome his feeling of physical inferiority. 
The neurotic, according to Adler, is ever in dread 
that his deficiency may be exposed, and so he exerts 
all his powers to conceal it, to bury it under a 
demonstration of superior actions and talents. In 
the effort to attain compensation, the patient over- 
shoots his mark and follows what is called his 
"fictitious goal," of which I shall soon speak. Now 
this striving for compensation is inherent in the 
nature of things, because, owing to the inferior and 
superior elements in our make-up, an equilibrium is 
always sought. We have in the heart, for instance, 
an inhibitory nerve and an accelerative nerve. The 
first keeps the heart from beating too fast, the sec- 
ond urges it to go faster; and between the two im- 
pulses, the heart's equilibrium is maintained. 
Where, however, the equilibrium has been upset, 
the neurosis comes in, and the inferior organ begins 
to seek the attainment of its fictitious goal. Some- 
times unbelievable results are brought to pass by 
this peculiar struggle for compensation, or by what 
Adler might call "the maximation of the ego-con- 
sciousness." The products of genius are not infre- 
quently traceable to such an effort. 
In a sentence, Adler's theory of the neurosis re- 
solves itself into this: Given, a bodily inferiority; 
result, compensation through the nervous system. 
By inferiority, Dr. Adler means incompleteness in 
organs, arrested development, inhibited or frus- 
trated functioning, deformities, and diseased organs. 
At the same time, he believes that "no organ in- ADLER-THEORY OF NEUROSIS 
19 
feriorities exist without an accompanying defect in 
the sexual apparatus." 
Once the individual is conscious of the weak point 
in his make-up, there is visible, according to Dr. 
Adler, a sharp lowering of self-esteem. The ego is 
degraded, and a force is born which urges him to 
develop his psychic powers. He struggles for asser- 
tion, for adjustment through compensation. He 
seeks protection and security. The result is what is 
called a neurosis. 
The presence of an inferior organ makes a special 
demand upon the interest and attention. It shows 
itself in action, in thought, in dreams, in the choice 
of a vocation, artistic inclinations and capabilities. 
It compels a special training of the appertaining 
nerve tracts and develops by way of balance a sensi- 
tiveness at inferior parts, such as the lips, taste, 
touch, etc. Helen Keller, the blind and deaf woman, 
is an example of such compensation. 
In the dreams of children we often find physical 
shortcomings overcome. Dr. C. W. Kimmins, a very 
recent investigator, shows that "the blind-unless 
they were totally blind before the age of five-see 
perfectly in dreams, even after an interval of many 
years and apparently with little diminution of vision. 
The deaf in dreams escape their deafness. The 
cripples walk." Children who live in cities dream 
of making excursions into the country; the faint- 
hearted see themselves as heroes in nightly exploits. 
All of which are instances of the law of dream-com- 
pensation as formulated by Dr. Adler. 
The constitutionally inferior, unattractive, too 
strictly reared or pampered child is generally found 
to be predisposed to neurosis. Such a child, more 
zealously than his normal playmate, seeks to avoid 
pain of any nature. This fear of pain springs from 
a feeling of feebleness which it is his desire to dis- 
guise. He is forever ill at ease, insecure, suspicious. 
He is always fighting his self-consciousness. He is 20 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
habitually on the offensive against the world. Some- 
times he blames his parents; sometimes fate. His 
thoughts run somewhat as follows: "The fault lies 
with my parents, with my lot in life, because I am 
the youngest, because I was born too late, because 
I am dwarfed, have too small a head, am too homely, 
have a defect of hearing, impediment of speech, have 
imperfect genitals, am not a man, am a girl. Yes, I'm 
bad by nature, dull and awkward, I submit too easily, 
and despondent and obey everyone, am a cripple, etc. 
In the struggle to rescue his ego, the child must 
find some point outside himself towards which to 
strive. At first the child will put out feelers to 
test his environment. Once he finds a suitable and 
auspicious star, he will fasten his wagon to it. The 
star becomes a fiction, dogma, ideal or god. The 
greater the insecurity, the greater the fiction. By 
foul means or fair, no matter how impossible, the 
neurotic will strain to reach his goal. It is essential 
to his security. So urgent does he feel the need, 
that he will exaggerate and stimulate symptoms, or 
summon attacks of epilepsy, hysteria, neuralgia, and 
migraine. All the vices and reprehensible habits of 
the neurotic are so many devices for winning a surer 
footing in life. To still the inner demon, he whips 
himself into a fury of ambition. He says to himself: 
"In the end I must become master of the situation." 
In this thought lies the essence of what Adler calls 
"the masculine protest," another name for the lust, 
in man, for mastery. 
Whereas the normal person is ever ready to yield, 
compromise or withdraw, where the situation de- 
mands it, the neurotic will resist. He is nailed to 
the cross of his fiction. The definite goal is ever 
before his eyes. He must become another Caesar, 
another Demoisthenes, another Cromwell. He is 
bound to rise-as he sees himself-to the highest 
peak of his ego. Ultimately his character and per- 
sonality are completely transformed to the image ADLER-THEORY OF NEUROSIS 
21 
of the fiction. The neurosis then comes to a head. 
In rare instances, compensation creates talent or 
genius, as in the case of Demosthenes. 
Having found a point of vantage from which he 
may view life's problems, the neurotic, as he de- 
velops, looks to father, mother, elder brother, sister, 
or teacher as guide or pattern. He measures him- 
self with others. He becomes intensely inward- 
looking and develops such traits as hypersensitive- 
ness, irritability, obstinacy, stinginess, discontent, 
impatience. He is proud, dogmatic, contradictory, en- 
vious. He postpones decisions and trembles for re- 
sults. 
The neurotic regards the world as divided into 
masculine and feminine. On the masculine side he 
places such qualities as certainty, self-esteem, man- 
liness, domination. On the feminine, uncertainty, 
lowliness, effeminacy, submission. As the feminine 
indicates inferiority and weakness, he abhors it with 
all his heart and strives toward the manly-or his 
conception of the manly. Also, he arranges all ex- 
periences according to the scheme of "up-down." 
Victory and success are up, while their opposites, de- 
feat and failure, are down. The masculine protest 
-true as well of the neurotic woman-goads the 
neurotic like a gadfly. 
In the second part of his work, Dr. Adler enumer- 
ates specific vices common to neurotics. Many cases 
are put under the observation glass. To support a 
feeling of inferiority, for instance, the patient (male 
or female) resorts to certain expedients, all of them 
forms of self-interest and evasion to deceive himself 
and his world. These vices may be tabulated and 
explained as follows: 
Avarice: the desire to attain everything. It de- 
viates into stinginess or asceticism. The neurotic 
may assume humility, modesty, or contentment to 
win his point. 22 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
Distrust and Jealousy: a fear of the sex partner or 
mate, and loss of love. The patient may degrade 
other persons by inventing tales of adultery, etc. 
Or he will struggle not to fall in love if it means 
a lowering of the ego. 
Coquetry: the impulse to force others into service 
and to exercise one's own sense of power. Often 
the physician is included in the circle. 
Asceticism: religion, superstition, and morality are 
made to serve as cloaks of security. Rigid dogma 
is followed. The patient moves within the walls 
of principles. Other forms, such as fasting, pray- 
ing, weeping, religious insanity, hallucinations of 
God, saints, and heaven, are expressions of a feel- 
ing of superiority over environment. 
Cruelty: the desire to inflict pain on others and to 
conquer. Often it is expressed in a literal love of 
the bitter truth in order to serve the fiction. 
Dominancy: the overpowering desire for conquest 
or popularity. The patient will enter athletic 
contests for the opportunity it might afford 
of asserting superiority. He will try, in all 
possible ways, to prove himself the stronger; 
he will try to dominate the mother, for instance, 
as a test. This is Adler's clue to the Oedipus 
complex. 
Derogation: a main pole of the neurotic state. The 
purpose here is to bring others down to one's own 
level, in order to gain a sense of superiority. A 
typical utterance of the patient is that "all women 
are sinful and frivolous." The desire to derogate 
becomes especially pernicious when the patient 
belittles the worth of the doctor in order to hold 
fast to his own symptoms. In such a case "trans- 
ference," so essential to therapeutic treatment, 
wherein sympathy passes from one to the other, 
cannot take place. ADLER-THEORY OF NEUROSIS 
23 
Self-reproach: the neurotic is at peace only when 
he has an attack behind him. The idea of suicide 
or self-torture with the intention of injuring 
others indirectly, or of attaining security, is com- 
mon. 
There are many traits which accompany these 
artifices, such as obstinacy, rage, ambition, greed, 
malice, and sexual precocity. The end in every case 
is the desire for absolute power. Often the neurotic 
displays a double ego. 
It must not be supposed that such tendencies are 
inherited. They may be acquired from emulating 
persons that are admired. When the father becomes 
an ideal to the daughter, he serves as a refuge made 
necessary by the craving for security. The mas- 
culine protest prompts the child-whether male or 
female-to tend toward the manly state. 
Many conditions heighten the neurosis. Family 
life contributes largely to it. The love of parents 
for each other, or the marriage of a younger brother 
or sister, may excite the neurosis. An anticipated 
marriage is a common cause. In the woman, the 
fear of childbirth is opposed to the masculine ideal 
of independence as exemplified by the father. 
To gain his point, the neurotic keeps before him 
always this formula: raise your ego and degrade 
that of others. He exacts constant proofs of his 
superiority, as already pointed out. He uses his 
neurosis as a weapon. He pretends to fall into a 
faint to win the tenderness of the mother; and to 
gain his point he will carry out regularly such de- 
ceptive acts as blushing, head-ache, pains, tremors, 
depressions, and other ready-for-use devices. To 
extend the limits of his ego, he will exaggerate such 
"manly" traits as lying, bragging, playing with fire, 
and falling in love. 
How shall one proceed in the cure of the neurosis ? 
Adler states that once the patient becomes more 
certain of himself and recognizes his fiction for what 
it is, he controls his impossible desires. Destroy 24 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
his false perspective, dam up the inflow of the fiction, 
and undermine the faith he has in the power of his 
driving devil. His feeling of inferiority must be 
destroyed, and the fear of the feminine role in his 
life eliminated at all costs. 
It is natural to ask wherein Adler differs from 
Freud in fundamentals. The difference between 
them lies in their divergence rather than in their 
disagreement. According to Freud, the growth of 
perverse inclinations with their repression into the 
subconscious is the basis of the neurosis. Adler ad- 
mits the perversion but explains it as arising not 
from innate impulses, but from the patient's striv- 
ing toward a fictitious goal. This force compels 
the repression, which is only an incidental feature 
-a side-show, so to speak. 
The Oedipus complex is merely a fancy of what 
constitutes manliness: superiority over women. It 
is based on the will to power. Homosexuality and 
exhibitionism are expressions of the masculine pro- 
test, and may be traced to the Oedipus complex as 
the source. 
Sexuality or love, says Adler, is not the whole 
directing force of the dream. To say it is "is illog- 
ical, bad fiction, contradictory, confusing, and out 
of accord with reality." 
As to the dream, it is the index of the patient's 
egotistic thinking. The notions that come to the 
surface must be brought within the scheme of mas- 
culine-feminine before they can be useful in inter- 
pretation. In fact, every dream must show a pro- 
gression toward the manly, which represents se- 
curity. A series of dreams generally betrays the 
guiding fiction. 
When the dream reverts to childhood memories, 
the neurotic is then seeking refuge in the struggle 
to gain security. However, the purpose of the dream 
is not primarily the fulfilment of childhood wishes, 
but rather a balance to strengthen the dreamer's 
weakness. ADLER-THEORY OF NEUROSIS 
25 
In symbols, Freud has investigated actual or 
possible sex phases only. Had he looked below, he 
might have discovered the striving upward, the mas- 
culine protest, as Adler found it. Male and female 
images, it is true, are associated by the neurotic with 
sex, but they really express his ideas of victory or 
defeat as the case happens to fit in with the guiding 
fiction. Thus, dreams of horseback-riding, flying, 
climbing stairs, as well as dreams of racing, soaring, 
scaling mountains, or emerging from water, repre- 
sent the will in us to be up, whereas dreams of fall- 
ing or crawling or sinking signify down. Tooth-pull- 
ing in dreams, by the way, may be interpreted as 
symbolizing the wish to become a man, or the desire 
to gain more complete manhood. 
To conclude: nervous or psychic diseases are 
attempts at compensation or balance in nature. Ex- 
pressed in another way, variation from the herd in- 
duces a determination on the part of the individual 
to reach the healthy level. The fear of not being 
able to do so brings on the need of asserting superi- 
ority, etc. The masculine urge is invariably 
strengthened when the individual feels submerged. 
The neurotic must seek a north star-or perish. For 
that reason, he reaches out so often for satisfaction 
beyond the bodily planes. V 
JUNG-MYTH AND LIBIDO 
most brilliant scholar of the Zurich group, 
as has already been indicated, is Dr. Carl G. 
Jung. His book on the "Psychology of the Uncon- 
scious" has widened considerably the whole concept 
of the subconscious and prepared the way for further 
consideration of it. The suggestions and illumin- 
ating hints contained in this volume are without 
number. 
To give an adequate summary of the work is well- 
nigh impossible. We can, however, indicate essen- 
tial points and present them in somewhat simpler 
form than they are given in the original. 
Jung, like Adler, does not disagree with Freud 
in fundamentals. For the most part he builds upon 
the Freudian ground-work, here and there indicating 
desirable modifications and adding, now and then, 
new wings to the superstructure. Jung may be said 
to represent the historical point of view of the sub- 
ject in contradistinction to Freud, who exemplifies 
the analytic method. 
The words of Nietzsche indicated to Jung the direc- 
tion of his researches: "In our sleep and in our 
dreams we pass through the whole thought of 
humanity. The dream carries us back into earlier 
stages of human culture and affords us a means of 
understanding it better." 
I believe that those investigators who will put 
dreams on a scientific basis and hunt them down to 
their deepest and farthermost depths will create 
what I might call a "geology science of dreams" by 
26 JUNG-MYTH AND LIBIDO 
27 
which they will be able to read the spiritual history 
of man as surely as the delvers into the lower strata 
of the earth are able to read the physical history of 
our planet. 
Jung came to believe that the soul of the indi- 
vidual re-echoes the soul of the human race through 
periods. The psychology of one man is an epitome 
of the psychology of the race. To give his own 
words: "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 not 
outgrown these archaic tendencies, nevertheless bear 
the marks of the evolution passed through and the 
very ancient re-echoes, at least dreamily, in phan- 
tasies." 
The oldest strata of primitive man, preserved in 
the soul, correspond to the unconscious (subcon- 
scious). The wishes and energies of primitive man 
were expressed in the myth. To understand, there- 
fore, the deepest layers of the modern consciousness, 
it is necessary to examine the psychological founda- 
tion of myths, religions, and early culture in general. 
Jung makes a distinction between directed think- 
ing and phantasy thinking. Directed thinking, he 
says, involves effort toward an end and is trouble- 
some, exhausting. The highest form of this type 
of thinking is science. Phantasy thinking, on the 
other hand, is automatic. It sets wishes free and 
turns away from the world. The result is sometimes 
poetry and sometimes idle dreaming. Mythology, 
clearly, is a product of phantasy thinking. 
In 1906 Miss Miller, an American woman of un- 
usual susceptibility, wrote an interesting personal 
document which attracted Jung's attention. It was 
entitled "Quelques Faits d'lmagination Creatrices 
Subconsciente." On this theme Jung plays all the 
variations of his philosophy. He examines her 
dreams, fancies, whims, and sentiments, and digs 
to the historico-mythological roots. On the thread 28 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
of her narrative, he spins the major part of his ob- 
servations. And the ingenuity of his deductions, as 
also, his native erudition, is often dazzling. The 
story of Miss Miller we shall relate here in discon- 
nected portions, dropping it and picking it up again 
wherever it is Suitable to our purpose. 
It is the phantasies of Miss Miller while on a sea 
voyage which form the backbone of Jung's com- 
mentaries. 
She tells of admiring an Italian officer who sang 
well. When she lay down to sleep, she thought of 
the officer-how handsome he was-and proceeded to 
the writing of an erotic poem, ''Brine, wine, and 
damsels fine," in the singer's honor. This poem was 
followed by a Hymn of Creation to the gods of sound, 
light and love, in which she mentions the Heavenly 
Father. 
Jung sees here traces of influences from various 
classics-"Paradise Lost," the Bible, etc. "When 
we let the unconscious speak, it always tells us of the 
most important things of the intimate self." Miss 
Miller is disturbed by an erotic emotion, and girls 
in love commonly revive the father-image of 
which Adler spoke. This father-image is naturally 
transferred to the idea of a Heavenly Father. In 
Miss Miller's case, there take place two well estab- 
lished psychoanalytic phenomena: sublimation-the 
creation of a hymn to satisfy the erotic impulse; 
and compensation-a father in place of a lover. We 
shall return to the Miller story shortly. 
The word "libido" is taken from Freud, but has 
been broadened by Jung to mean the creative im- 
pulse or the vital energy in general. The word, as 
now used, extends beyond the widest definition of 
sexuality and expresses itself in non-sexual connota- 
tions. In childhood, for instance, the libido is busy 
with nutrition. As the infant develops, other im- 
pulses require satisfaction. The last stage is that 
of procreation. In man, the libido ramifies in any JUNG-YOUTH AND LIBIDO 
29 
number of directions: allurement, protection of the 
young, mastery, etc. Sex may be at the basis of all 
these antecedent and subsequent strivings; it may 
indeed be the dynamo of the libido, but, as Jung 
says: "A cathedral is not mineralogy because it is 
made of stones." Likewise, we cannot say a man is 
a dog because he is controlled by sexual longings. 
The libido, regarded as the sum total of our en- 
ergies, may either pass outside of the self (transfer- 
ence or extroversion) or turn inside the self (intro- 
version). Any difficulty will cause the individual 
either to escape into reality or turn away from it 
toward a world of phantasies. There is always 
that dual tendency in a man confronted with a need 
for evasion or escape. 
The most popular way of solving a conflict is to 
transfer it to another. In religion, the Divinity has 
been the Great Receiver. Says Peter: "Cast all 
your anxiety on Him, for He careth for you." This 
expresses in a manner the idea of redemption 
through the Saviour. 
Jung's conclusion on the value of Christianity de- 
serves quotation: "Now that we have attained to the 
independence of the idea, and thought is no longer 
fettered by the emotional effects of the impression, 
the realms of the spirit lie deserted and fallow. The 
world has not only lost its God, but its soul as well. 
The Christian religion seems to have fulfilled its pur- 
pose, in so far as we are able to judge. It has led 
human thought to independence and has lost its 
own significance. The stumbling-block is the un- 
happy combination of religion and morality. That 
must be overcome." Therefore, to cast one's sins 
upon the Divinity is, speaking ethically, worthless. 
To come back to the Miller incident: The same 
complex may seek a hundred different modes of ful- 
filment or expression. In the "Song of the Moth" 
Miss Miller tried to solve her problem by becoming 
positively religious. She then turned to the material 30 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
world, in her symbol of the moth singeing its wings 
in the flame. She thus identified God with her own 
love, for in the Deity man honors his own generative 
power. The libido is expressed and recognized in 
such symbols as Sun, Fire, Father, God. The sun, 
for instance, is both creator and destroyer. The 
historical symbols of the libido are indeed numer- 
ous. The rubbing together of two pieces of wood 
once symbolized man and woman. Totems were 
phallic, just as church spires are today. Various 
Australian tribes still express the worship and joy 
of the sexual act by casting a spear into the earth 
and dancing around it. The Prometheus legend of 
the transfer of the principle of fire from heaven is 
likewise a sex symbolism. 
If the libido cannot be successfully drained off, 
we have what is known as repression, which may 
involve hundreds of instincts. Now, what follows 
a repression? Usually, there is a backward flow of 
the energy current, station by station. The energies 
summed up, though, do not return to their original 
sources, but are diverted on their way back into 
chambers of the subconscious. When repression is 
of frequent occurrence, these chambers begin to fill 
up and expand more and more till, if repressions are 
continued long enough, they overrun the mind, and 
a complete separation from the world takes place, 
known in extreme cases as dementia praecox. 
Such habits as finger-sucking, biting the nails, 
picking at things, boring into the ears and nose, are 
the outward signs of a repressed libido. If intro- 
version is carried far enough, there may be a return 
to the pre-sexual stage of childhood (to the age of 
five, for instance) and a revival of the parent image. 
Eventually, such a backward urge follows the path 
of least resistance and becomes an "incest tendency." 
Let us note Jung's careful definition of his concep- 
tion of incest: "The fundamental basis of the in- 
cestuous desire does not aim at cohabitation, but at JUNG-YOUTH AND LIBIDO 
31 
the special thought of becoming a child again, of 
turning back to the parent's protection, of coming 
into the mother once more to be born." 
The desire, then, fundamentally, is rebirth. When 
the libido is not satisfied with phantasies, there is a 
tendency always to return to the source of life: the 
mother. Man tries to "sneak" into rebirth in order 
to be a child again. Through the body of the mother, 
the soul thinks it can regain communion with In- 
finite Life. 
In cases of insanity, individuals are frequently 
dominated by incest phantasies. The libido, in the 
case of the demented son, seeks satisfaction in union 
with the mother; in the case of the daughter, union 
with the father. Such phantasies are common 
enough in ancient picture-writing and religious 
ceremonies. 
Jung quotes an endless array of myths, drawn 
from a host of sources, that signify birth, sex-union, 
and rebirth. Phallic symbols, it is shown, dominate 
much of the religion and art of the world, ancient 
and modern. In neurotic and psychopathic cases, 
these symbols are often reproduced. In hallucina- 
tions, for example, the fingers are spread out. This 
corresponds to an old phallic symbol which repre- 
sented the outspread fingers encircled with rings. 
The implication is that fire comes from the hand, or 
that the hand brings self-gratification. 
A Roman mystic inscription discovered by Jung is 
the following: 
The sun has always been regarded as masculine 
and the moon feminine. The Sun-Hero is the light 
of hope from race to race and the image of human- 
ity's libido. In fact, the gods are libido. 
The tree was the basis of many cults in ancient 
times. The Tree of Paradise or Life and the Cross 
of Christ are symbolic of rebirth. The motive of 
embracing and entwining is found in many sun 
myths. There are myths that signify the conquest 32 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
of the incest wish. The picture of the serpent en- 
circling a tree is the defense of the mother against 
incest. One of the most common fancies, signifying 
rebirth, is the night journey of the sun on the sea. 
There are numerous variations of this myth. In 
general the sun-god is enclosed in the mother's womb 
and returns, reborn, at sun-rise. The sea, indeed, has 
always been a symbol of birth; from water comes 
life. 
To return again to the phantasies of Miss Miller: 
During a period of relaxation, a forest appears. The 
hero, Chiwantopel, an Aztec figure, appears on horse- 
back. The drama begins. 
The horse has always been a libido symbol, partly 
of phallic, partly of maternal meaning, like the tree. 
The hero exposes his breast to the enemy. He 
does not fear death, which is to come in the form of a 
poisoned arrow. 
Wounding by one's own arrow means introversion: 
a sinking within one's depths to find the world of 
child memories. "It is our own repressed and un- 
recognized desires which fester like arrows in the 
flesh." Further, the arrow too is a libido symbol, 
while the poisoned arrow indicates a wish for death. 
Jung weaves many interpretations about the Hia- 
watha legend. Hiawatha is the savior. Water flow- 
ing from the latter's footsteps and the flash of the 
comet in the sky represent the male sperm; the West 
Wind and the shooting star, the process of fertili- 
zation. 
Throughout the subsequent part of her phantasies 
Miss Miller is striving for independent life, for a 
severance of the maternal bond, as observe: 
The hero then delivers a monologue. He has been 
wandering aimlessly for a hundred moons "for her 
who will understand." He says the meaning of life 
lies in union with her. Then a green serpent darts 
from the bushes, glides toward him, and stings him 
in the arm. Then it attacks his horse, which sue- JUNG-YOUTH AND LIBIDO 
33 
cumbs. The hero is grateful and says: "Thanks, 
little sister, you have put an end to my wanderings." 
It is clear that Miss Miller loves herself. Her 
lover comes too late. The mother devours the libido 
of the daughter. The death of the hero is the wish- 
fulfilment. 
A volcano causes the hero to disappear by earth- 
quake into the earth. 
As the volcano gave birth to the hero, so at the 
end of the day it devours him again. His beloved 
is Janiwama. These syllables are reminders of wa-wa 
and ma-ma. 
When the neurotic complains that the world does 
not understand him, he means that he misses his 
mother. 
Here ends the story of Miss Miller. 
The problem, in psychoanalysis, is not renuncia- 
tion or gratification, but the successful outflow to 
higher and more useful levels of the primitive im- 
pulses. Freud called this process sublimation, a 
term borrowed from chemistry, where it means 
purifying or freeing from baser matter. In myth- 
ology, as Jung pointed out, the idea is expressed 
again and again in the sacrifice and rebirth of the 
infantile hero. The higher self must rise out of the 
old dead selves. In religion we find any number of 
exhortations to sublimation of the sexual urge. Says 
Jesus: "Think not carnally or thou art carnal, but 
think symbolically; then art thou spirit." 
The sacrifice of the horse, in the case of Miss 
Miller's vision, meant the renunciation of sexual 
wishes and the sacrifice of the child personality. 
Mithra conquering the bull is another instance of 
the sacrifice of our animal nature to a higher object. 
This, in fact-the substitution of higher impulses 
and satisfactions for lower-has been the main prob- 
lem of humanity since the first dawn of our reason. 
Perhaps the best liberator of the unconscious 34 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
libido is regular, useful employment. The libido is 
thus pulled out of the animal vise through inatten- 
tion, and made serviceable to the world. 
These are the knots in the clothesline of Jung's 
philosophy. He differs from Freud in three re- 
spects: First, Jung's libido is more than sexual; it 
comprehends a non-sexual area. Second, sexual 
signs in children are shown to be not perverse, as 
Freud called them, but preliminary to full sexual 
growth. The pre-sexual stage is made to correspond 
to the caterpillar stage. Third, the image of the 
parent, as Jung sees it, is only a colored symbol of 
the childish inclination toward the source of life. The 
mother really has no sexual meaning for the child. 
In a word: Freud emphasizes sex a little too much; 
Adler underestimates it; Jung sees sex as the root- 
material out of which the soul works its way and 
develops, through sublimation of its instincts, im- 
pulses and wills. Jung makes of sex a thing beau- 
tiful and elevating; mysterious and metaphysical. VI 
PRELIMINARY NOTES ON SEX 
AND EMOTION 
'T'HE first momentous contribution of Freud that 
started flurries of criticism was his "Three Con- 
tributions to the Theory of Sex." In it he demon- 
strated that the earliest age of childhood is not free 
from sexuality; that in fact infantile sexuality, not 
yet restrained by education, is expressly of a per- 
verse character. We have already noted Jung's cor- 
rection of this view. 
To regard everything infantile as perverse ipso 
facto is unwarrantable. Sex growth is a normal de- 
velopment. Certain precautions are necessary to 
insure healthy unfolding of the sex instinct. Clean 
habits, such as keeping the hands away from the 
genitals and sleeping alone, are to be encouraged, 
especially as the abuse of either works such havoc 
with the physical and the mentality. 
Freud writes: "It is established with complete 
certainty by analyses that the first sexual impulses 
have often originated in the scufflings and wrestlings 
of childhood." This statement has a doubtful value. 
The child's sexual impulses may express themselves 
in play, but are not aroused, at an early age, by 
physical contact. Once his sexual imagination is 
stirred, however, as by the sight of love-making or 
the sex act, he may be made aware of the sex instinct 
within him-that is to say, be made consciously 
aware. 
35 36 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
Sex is not localized. It is an urge interwoven with 
every part of the human body: a skeleton within a 
skeleton. The sex energy, likewise, is not concen- 
trated in a single organ. The urge is distributed 
throughout the organism. Contrary to popular con- 
ception, also, is the truth that the potential power 
of reproduction lies imbedded in each cell. 
The urge of sex in man and woman is not the 
same. The mother instinct is uppermost in woman 
whereas the reproductive impulse is strongest in 
man. The instinct and urge of sex may create the 
sentiment of love, and this may be so sublimated 
as to rise altogether above the purely animal desire. 
Why do the emotions connected with the sexual 
throng into the mind with such "excess baggage" 
and to the exclusion of everything else? Evidently 
the subconscious acts insistently under the urge of 
the life-force stemming from the reproductive power 
inherent in every cell. 
It is curious to note the part the subconscious 
plays in sex fascination. By artifice and cunning, 
a passion that completely possesses the lower con- 
sciousness may be brought forward into the area of 
the normal consciousness for the sake of enlisting the 
help of the latter. A struggle may then ensue be- 
tween both areas; and where the conscious is sub- 
dued, insanity may result. 
One of my patients confessed to me his mad love 
for a street-walker. When I played upon his self- 
respect and proved how unworthy the woman was 
of his love, a sensory nerve in what I call his "sub- 
conscious matter" having been sufficiently stimu- 
lated, the man was restored to his proper senses. 
Though grounded in sex, the desire for marriage 
may rise above the grossly sexual, as previously ob- 
served. Our modern arrangement between man and 
his mate admits of many considerations, such as 
support, security, temperamental harmony, etc. As 
Jung pointed out, sex is but one element in the libido. SEX AND EMOTION 
37 
Psychoanalysts generally affirm that in a normal 
sex life no neurosis is possible. The converse then 
is that abnormal sex perversions, as well as extreme 
denial, are the causes of our mental ills. Tracing 
the malady to the source, may we say that impulses 
to perversions are inbred? Many cases seem to 
point that way. I heard of a rabbi who complained 
that all his eight daughters were sexually lax. 
The parents lived normal lives. It appears as if an 
inherited tendency may assert itself after a sus- 
pension of two or three generations, for the rabbi's 
own grandfather and granduncle were oversexed 
persons. 
Perversions may take many forms. I know a 
woman who was fond of horseback riding and was 
smitten with her horse's buttocks, which she loved 
to pat and fondle. I likewise knew a young society 
woman who loved to play with the scrotum of young 
boys. To satisfy this craving, the latter would strip 
the lads for the ostensible purpose of giving them a 
medical examination, but in reality to indulge her 
fancy. This woman took up medicine to be in a 
position to undress boys without the shadow of sus- 
picion falling upon her. 
When balked, the sex urge will turn into imag- 
inative channels and produce a psychic sex energy. 
It may take one of three forms: the positive, or 
masturbation; the comparative, or husband and wife 
relation; the superlative, or sex perversion. The 
superlative, when traced to the root, is a disturbing 
idea in the mind, inspired at times by untoward 
conditions. 
Incest is more common than is imagined. Those 
races with a strain of hero-worship or those from 
degenerate stock, as the later Romans or the Bour- 
bons, have an incest strain in their blood. Among 
Italians in this country, the crime is not uncommon. 
Several cases have come to my attention of Italians 
who cohabit with their daughters. One in particular 38 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
I know had sent his girl to a convent when very 
young. After an absence of ten years she returned 
to live with her father. Shortly afterward she 
contracted syphilis through direct contact with him. 
In touching on the social aspect of the problem, 
I shall not repeat what has already been said. I 
wish only to stress one point: namely, that the 
world fails to realize that the bad boy and girl differ 
from the so-called good boy and girl by the greater 
amount of vitality with which they are animated. 
The prostitute, for instance, is simply a bundle of 
super-vital energies gone astray. Often she has the 
potentiality of a superior being. Under a system of 
society that would not regard the sex power as 
criminal or disgraceful, such a woman would be able 
to rise to high feminine position. The suppressed 
vitalities of the prostitute today must simply over- 
flow to the injury of the community. Society, as 
always, ignores not only the abnormal, but the super- 
normal. The remedy seems to be a recognition of the 
fact of the sex-urge, allowance for normal gratifica- 
tion, and the lifting of the brand of society from 
those whom the necessity of their natures drives 
into sex-satisfaction. 
The sex urge is particularly dominating in large 
cities. Too much strife and too many interests make 
of physical pleasures a necessary means of relaxa- 
tion. Sex allurement becomes artificial and com- 
mercial, and man degenerates again into a courting 
animal. Natural instinct gives way to policy, 
to expediency, or to social standing. This is the 
curse of modern love-making, as justly denounced 
by such writers as Ibsen, Shaw, Kennedy, and others. 
Sex is beautiful. The repressions and perversions 
of sex cause all the horror of our social evils. Of 
course, satisfaction of all impulses is ridiculous. 
But repression is worse. Sexual urgings may be 
satisfied indirectly, as through sublimation. They 
should not be fettered or driven to abuse. When we SEX AND EMOTION 
39 
begin to consider that sex is the driving force of all 
creation, we must pause before pronouncing sentence 
upon its proper and intelligent satisfaction. All 
artistic, social, political, and commercial activities 
are vitalized by the sex dynamo. Lacking principle, 
the world would quickly stagnate and die. 
In certain parts of the world, sex is wasting away 
under misguided policies of repression. In those 
parts the posture is a kind of "don't" attitude, with 
no chance at all for the intelligence. In other parts 
of the world, which show the high peaks of human 
effort and thought, sex nourishment is evident; I 
mean spiritual sex nourishment. Flirtations, in- 
trigue, adultery, artifice, perversion, over-indulgence; 
in short, sex madness-that is the death of the finest 
sex expression. What has been the need of human- 
ity through all time has been sex-fulfilment. Healthy 
and rational association, regular work, interest in 
the arts, and the interchange of ideas-these are so 
many doors to the sex-fufilment of which I speak. 
Now as to emotion. Medicine, in the past, has de- 
voted its attention to the study of isolated individ- 
ual organs. The kidneys, liver, heart, lungs, etc., 
have been put under the microscope separately. 
There are now indications, however, that we are 
beginning to study the organs in their interrelated 
functionings, especially as they work together under 
the influence of emotion. 
The province of emotion has been neglected 
by medical practicioners. Dr. Cannon, indeed, 
has published studies on the relation of emotions to 
disease; but the field has practically been barren of 
investigators. Yet, a knowledge of the workings of 
emotion is of as much importance in the understand- 
ing of an ailment as a knowledge of the bones and 
framework of the body. Often, in a cure, the essen- 
tial thing to know is just how to reach the emotion 
bound up with the idea that will discharge the symp- 
tom. I am convinced that every medical college 40 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
should have a course in emotional psychology com- 
plementary to its present studies in the field. 
Unfortunately, medicine and religion, throughout 
history, have had a negative effect on the study and 
scientific investigation of the emotions. Even our 
intellectuals, who should know better, make it a 
point to discredit the health-value of the emotions. 
Many organic diseases are the product of emo- 
tional disorders. Varieties of kidney trouble come 
from depression and disappointment. Diseases of the 
stomach also may be directly traced to worry, ex- 
citement, anger, and other unsettling emotions. 
The emotion itself is a form of energy which 
issues from a combination of the physical and the 
physiological. It is controlled by a psychologic 
centre. Among some races, as the Italian for ex- 
ample, the emotion detaches itself easily. With 
others, the control may be so severe as to shut off 
expression. This is true of the Puritanic element 
among us. In brief, we may express the entire 
process as going from the physical to the physiolog- 
ical, then to the emotional, and finally to the psycho- 
logic, operating either in the conscious or the sub- 
conscious. 
Few of us understand the finer interplay of the 
emotions. Our methods of controlling and directing 
them are still crude, and in many cases positively 
injurious. Our favorite instruments of repression 
are prohibition, like "don't" and "stop." Among 
Anglo-Saxons the display of genuine emotion is 
taboo. And yet one of their best writers has said 
that "all art is nothing less than the expression of 
the emotions." 
Emotion should be charmed rather than bridled; 
directed rather than suppressed; disciplined, to 
attain beautiful and useful ends, rather than teased 
or ridiculed into detail-just like our impulses and 
will to power. We cannot insure emotional health 
in a nation unless we encourage actively the healthy 
expression of outgoing energies. * SEX AND EMOTION 
41 
The physician need not and should not surrender 
his responsibility in this respect (a knowledge of 
the workings of emotions and their relations to 
disease) to the lay psychologist who merely psycho- 
logizes or to the theorist who merely theorizes. The 
physician, if he is to measure up to his professional 
and ethical obligations, ought to be as proficient in 
the realm of the emotions as he is today in the realm 
of psychology. Too much stress cannot be laid upon 
this need. VII 
THE DREAM 
HT HE royal road to a knowledge of the part the 
1 unconscious plays in the mental life," said 
Freud, may be gained through "the interpretation 
of dreams." With this statement, it might be said, 
Freud caught the ear of the world and shifted uni- 
versal attention from the study of cell-structure to 
the analysis of mental states. More than that, he 
started a scientific controversy that bids fair to out- 
rank the feud waged between professors of the 
theories of acquired and inherited characteristics, es- 
poused by Darwin and his followers. 
Freud urged digging deep into the life-history 
of the patient; for by exploring past mental ex- 
periences, clues could be gained whereby one might 
reach the real nature of the nervous disorder 
(neurosis) or mental disease (psychosis). As a re- 
sult, we have concentrated our researches on the 
human consciousness, with the view of ascertaining 
the laws which operate the wheels within the wheels, 
the invisible power that moves, controls, and even 
directs the visible entities. 
The great point of Freud is his assumption that 
the deepest layers of our consciousness-called by 
him the unconscious, and by other psychologists the 
subconscious-are revealed to a very considerable 
measure in the dream. The dream, in fact, he holds 
to be the direct road to this sub-mental vault. Work- 
ing upon this idea, Freud began, with Teutonic in- 
dustriousness and patience, to investigate the cause, 
nature, function, and symbolism of the dream. As 
42 THE DREAM 
43 
his researches advanced, he became more and more 
convinced that a scientific study of dreams was pos- 
sible, and that what most of us all along had re- 
garded as meaningless could yield, as it did to him, 
astonishing significance. 
The body of Freud's dream theory, condensed and 
expressed in a language as untechnical as possible, 
will be set down here with almost painful restraint 
of comment. General criticism will follow in the 
next two chapters. 
In his "Interpretation of Dreams," published in 
1899, Freud enters first upon an examination of the 
literature of the dream up to his own time. He 
spreads before us an array of opinions culled from 
every available source-from the writings of the 
ancient poets, scientists and philosophers to the 
works of our present-day psychologists and allied 
investigators of the mind. Needless to say, hun- 
dreds of explanations of the dream exist and have 
existed. The Egyptians thought dreams were of 
supernatural origin and took the dreamer to another 
world. The Greeks believed dreams were an inspira- 
tion of the gods, sent as a warning or a prophecy. 
The Hebrews also regarded dreams as issuing from 
the Divine source, with power of anticipating events, 
especially those of a dreadful nature. Recent writers 
regard the dream as the free play of psychic en- 
ergies; and some even dismiss it as a tantalizing 
confusion which can have no meaning for the ration- 
al senses. 
With regard to the purpose of the dream, views 
diverge. To liberate the overburdened brain, to 
cleanse the mind, to provide a safety-valve for sup- 
pressed infantile impulses, to prevent premature 
ageing, to allay the torture of mental sufferers with 
pleasant pictures, to provide compensation for wake- 
a-day deficiencies, to stand as guardian of our sleep- 
these are some of the mass of opinions that have 44 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
come to us. All of them are suggestive, and not one 
of them can be dogmatically dismissed as unproven. 
But the scientific manner is to get at provable as- 
sumptions, drive them into a corner, and find out 
what they are really made of-and worth. This 
Freud has done, and the results have been worth 
the pains. 
It is natural to begin with the question: When do 
we dream ? To which Freud answers: when a 
thought has been accidentally detained or repressed 
during the day. The act of repressing or shutting 
off creates the energy which becomes the main- 
spring of the dream. 
Medical writers who are fond of explaining every 
function of the body anatomically, think the dream 
the result of a partial waking. That is, as the 
poisons of fatigue in the brain are drained off 
toward morning, separate cells awake, one by one. 
As these are cut off from the brain control, they 
produce the flickering pictures of the dream. Such 
a theory, declares Freud, implies that the body is 
never free from stimuli, and that all dreams occur 
only toward morning. 
The actual operation of the dream has been traced 
to various stimuli: sensory, e.g., the ringing of an 
alarm clock; organic, as in indigestion or heart 
trouble; psychic, as in the fear of burglars, etc. 
Schemer goes so far as to assert that every organic 
stimulus is recorded in the dream by a different 
symbol. Many investigators today hold the view 
that the dream content is comprised of experience 
and memories; that, in a word, the dream is only a 
continuation of the thoughts of the waking state. 
The opinion that dreams come as a result of dis- 
orders or normal activity in the stomach is a valid 
one, but only partially so. Freud contends that the 
constant operations in the cells of the stomach and 
the kidneys-internal stimuli-cannot of themselves THE DREAM 
45 
affect sleep. The body stimulus must be reinforced 
by a psychic stimulus. And even then the combina- 
tion must be surcharged by a wish. Stated another 
way, a wish must color or shoot through every 
dream, no matter what or whence the exciting cause. 
The immediate spur of the dream is the experience 
of the day, or the day before. I am quoting here 
Freud's theory. During the day a thought strikes 
a thread pf intricate associated thoughts, these 
usually leading backward into long-forgotten child- 
hood experiences. Freud would have us believe that 
childhood memories recur in the dream persistently. 
Because popular opinion has always leaned to the 
belief that dreams have a significance and even a 
prophecy, medical men of the conservative school 
have always refused to admit any significance at all. 
Superstition, of course, has contributed greatly to- 
ward throwing discredit on dream interpretation. 
But that should not bias people who pretend to be 
seekers after truth. In the light of all the wonder- 
ful discoveries which have been made, the most wise 
and open-handed policy to follow is to suspend judg- 
ment and pronounce sentence only after the most 
thorough investigation-and even perhaps not then. 
It may be dream-books, keys, and ciphers, survivals 
of Babylonian astrology, which merely reflect the 
eternal wish of mankind to unravel that which 
appears mysterious or has in any way to do with the 
foretelling of events, may be froth and vanity. But 
if Democritus and Leucippus have been vindicated, 
why not the Babylonian seers? 
Freud gives scientific sanction to the cipher 
method so far as it splits a dream into its com- 
ponent parts and gives a meaning to each element. 
"Tell me your dream, and I will tell you what you are" 
has become one of the maxims of the Freudians. 
For the dream, properly understood, is an expression 
of the personality undisguised and unaware. We 46 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
cannot be careful, cautious, discreet, ingenious, 
secretive in a dream; that is, in the dream content, 
before it has been transformed almost beyond recog- 
nition into what we remember as our dream; before, 
in a word, it has been condensed and its original 
elements displaced. The dream, as it really is and 
not as we know it, is naive, frank, true to form. 
When, therefore, it is possible to get at the original 
dream, the dream latent, the personality stands re- 
vealed as no waking moment can reveal it to us. 
On the surface, most dreams seem absurd; a 
jumble of nonsense; a helter-skelter, without rhyme 
or reason, where every lesson of experience appears 
to be contradicted. Ships recite poetry, stones float, 
and cows jump over the moon. But a moment's 
thought will warn us that the conscious surface or 
manifest content, as already pointed out, must not 
be taken literally. One must dig below the appear- 
ance and labor long enough until he gets to the 
hidden or latent content of the dream, for it is here 
that the logical ideas reside and may be found. 
With this thought in mind, it becomes clear that 
the aim of dream analysis must be to translate the 
dream puzzle back into something intelligible, as it 
originally was. The task would seem almost as diffi- 
cult as getting at the noumenal world of Kant; for 
just as our senses give us the world as we know it, 
but not as it really may be, so our consciousness 
gives us the dream as we remember it, after dream- 
work, condensation, and displacement have taken 
place, not as the dream really occurred. But Freud 
has shown us a way out, and it will pay us to follow 
him for a while. 
In the practice of interpretation, Freud scrutin- 
izes every detail of the dream. He regards nothing 
as trifling or absurd. Every element is traced to 
its earliest percept, the relationship is established, 
and eventually (and here we come upon the contro- THE DREAM 
47 
versial aspect) the sexual basis of a wish seeking ful- 
filment is uncovered. For, according to Freud, every 
dream is, at the bottom, an expression of some erotic 
desire. The manifest content of the dream may 
make it appear perfectly innocent, but that is only a 
trick to fool our awareness; a symbolic sleight-of- 
hand which we detect only when we begin to suspect 
it. Why the dream puts on these disguises is ex- 
plained variously. Adler might have said that the 
dream disguises not because the motives are pri- 
marily sexual, but because of the desire on the part 
of an inferior person to disguise his weaknesses or 
inferiorities. But Freud's explanation is as good as 
any: "In every dream where the content is obscure 
or intricate I hit upon dream thoughts which call 
for secrecy ... I arrive at ideas which surprise me, 
which I have not known to be mine, which not only 
appear foreign to me, but which are unpleasant, and 
which I would like to oppose . . . these thoughts 
are actually part of my physical life, possessing a 
certain psychical intensity. However, by virtue of 
a particular psychological condition, the thoughts 
could not become conscious to me. I call this parti- 
cular condition 'repression.' It is therefore impos- 
sible not to recognize some causal relationship be- 
tween the obscurity of the dream content and this 
state of repression-this incapacity of the conscious- 
ness. Whence I conclude that the cause of the ob- 
scurity is the desire to conceal these thoughts. Thus 
I arrive at the conception of the dream distortion 
as the deed of the dream work, and of displacement 
serving to disguise this object." 
Whereas the dream as remembered, when written 
down, may require only a paragraph or so, when 
subjected to exhaustive analysis it may cover from 
ten to twenty pages. Evidently, then, the dream is 
a highly compact mass whose knots are tightly 
twisted. Often the solution of a dream may be 48 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
arrived at by unravelling the master-knot of the 
dream-net. As describing the operation of the sub- 
conscious mind, Freud quotes the couplet: 
"One thread moves thousands of threads, 
One stroke ties thousands of knots." 
The analysis of a dream, therefore, is no simple 
matter; and the discovery of a method of approach 
may be truly considered epochal, since it directs our 
feet, at least, upon a path that is not blundering. It 
would have been sufficient for Freud only to have 
pointed out the way; but he actually laid the founda- 
tions of the science. 
All dreams contain collective images, composite 
photographs where multiple features are projected 
one upon another, and a salient expression is de- 
fined. Words undergo changes, names and syllables 
unite to form fantastic, hybrid compounds, as they 
do especially in cases of paranoia and hysteria. 
Often puns, quotations, songs, or proverbs are 
dragged into the dream in fragments or as wholes. 
The dream, in fact, borrows everywhere, but never 
gives back what it takes: it generally debases the 
original coin; it also counterfeits; it lies; it deceives. 
Its purpose, as already explained, is to hide itself 
and its meaning from the conscious awareness; and 
it does this in so ingenious a manner that out of a 
possible hundred dreams we are fortunate if we 
arrive at a correct solution of half a dozen. 
In the degree of intensity dreams range from a 
vividness which one fancies sharper than reality to 
a vagueness too dim and fleeting for recollection. 
The greater the condensation of the dream, the 
sharper the intensity. 
One of the activities of the dream-work which 
promote the confusion of the dream-picture is the 
purposive displacing and shifting of the centre of 
interest from immediate and important elements to 
remote or insignificant ones. Imagine, for example, THE DREAM 
49 
a theatre audience during an exciting scene suddenly- 
riveting its attention upon the shoes of the actors. 
Yet in just such a trick of displacement must the 
cause of the dream thoughts be sought: what appear 
as the veriest trifles may be pregnant with the most 
vital and astonishing truths. In the dream, the 
ridiculous treads upon the sublime. 
The incoming stream which brings the dream and 
the outgoing or resistant stream which rejects the 
disagreeable elements represent the two tides in the 
mind. The resistant power has been more or less 
personified. Freud calls it The Censor. It is the 
Censor which may check, disguise, disfigure, or 
neutralize any painful thought that leaves the mind. 
This Censor stands between the unconscious and the 
foreconscious, and passes upon the admissibility or 
non-admissibility of every thought issuing from the 
unconscious. It is the night-watchman of the gates 
of the dream. One might call it the alter ego of the 
conscience. Now this Censor, which develops in 
keenness and celerity with the development of the 
human mind, seems to be endowed with a special 
dispensation. For not only can it control incoming 
images by transforming and disguising them, but it 
can add even new matter by an actual intellectualiz- 
ing creative functioning. Since, however, there is 
nothing in the original dream-thought to correspond 
to this added matter, the latter is the first to be for- 
gotten in recollection. 
Having observed the machinery of the dream with 
its three main motors which condense, displace, and 
elaborate, it remains to add that the current which 
drives the whole is the wish. At least, that is the 
opinion of Freud, who holds that the content of the 
dream is the fulfilment of a wish. 
To illustrate the three dream properties, I quote 
here a dream recorded by Dr. S. Ferenczi, neurolo- 
gist and court medical expert in Budapest. He was 50 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
asked to analyze the dream of a woman who had 
wrung the neck of a barking white dog. That was 
the entire dream. The woman, being questioned, 
said she was amazed that she, "who could not hurt 
a fly," could dream so cruel a dream. After talking 
freely, however, it developed that she was fond of 
cooking, and had many times killed doves and 
chickens by wringing their necks. In the dream 
she remembered wringing the neck of the dog in ex- 
actly the same way. Then it was learned that she 
felt bitter toward a sister-in-law who had insinua- 
ted herself "like a tame dove" into the favor of her 
late husband. A quarrel scene was vividly recalled, 
at the end of which she had said: "Get out I I cannot 
endure a biting dog in my house." 
The reader can readily see the condensation of 
dove, sister-in-law and dog. The Censor allowed the 
neck of the white dog to be wrung, but replaced the 
thought-image by another. Further proof that the 
dog symbolized a woman in this case is the fact that 
the sister-in-law was small and of a strikingly white 
complexion. Many details not essential to the ex- 
planation, or at least not discernible as bearing 
upon the explanation, appeared in the dream. Where 
the dream is analyzed satisfactorily, this undeciph- 
ered residue may be ignored. 
Many wishes in dreams may be traced to infantile 
sources-and even beyond. These wishes in dreams 
are of three orders: they may be open, veiled, or 
repressed. The dreams of children belong to the 
first order. If denied ice-cream during the day, 
children will dream of eating huge cones at night. 
If a promise to visit a relative is opposed, they satis- 
fy the wish in sleep. In adults thirst suppressed in 
the daytime is satisfied by cooling drinks at night. 
In such instances, there is no concealment of the 
wish. The Censor does not interpose itself. Here 
the dream is nature's way of insuring sleep by com- 
pensation. THE DREAM 
51 
But how do dreams of fear and pain fulfil a wish? 
Can we maintain that we desire the infliction of 
grief upon ourselves, and that dreams of self-torture 
satisfy this desire? Interpretation reveals the odd 
fact that even here the wish is plainly present, but 
disguised or veiled. The Censor has been active, 
altering painful sensations that arise from wishes 
long repressed (and which cannot openly be ful- 
filled) into something that is a compromise but is 
nevertheless a wish fulfilment. 
Freud holds that anxiety is a symptom of a re- 
pressed desire. When anxiety is present in the 
dream, it is due to neurotic fear; and as anxiety is 
rooted in the sexual life, all anxiety dreams, accord- 
ing to Freud, have a sexual content. 
There are dreams which are so familiar to every- 
body that they may be denoted as "typical." Such 
are embarrassing dreams of nakedness, falling from 
great heights, the death of relatives. Dreams of the 
first kind are important only when they reveal a 
sensation of fleeing, or hiding, or inability to move 
from a spot. Though the immediate cause of such 
dreams may be exposure of the body at night, child- 
hood experiences very likely determine the content. 
The subconscious craves exposure of the body which 
the Censor forbids. The result of the conflict is a 
painful compromise. In the case of visions of falling 
from great heights, these are dreams which have 
come down to us from remote times, just like our 
instincts, and have nothing to do with personal ex- 
periences, or with events that occurred to others 
during the day. Such dreams are plainly inherited. 
Dreams of the death of relatives indicate a buried 
wish that the person in question may die. Although 
at the time of the dream the wish may be, as far as 
the consciousness is concerned, non-existent, it has 
somehow remained in the subconscious depths all the 52 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
time in a suppressed state since childhood. Some 
stimulus, perhaps of an altogether foreign nature, 
may have brought this wish into the dream-area. 
At bottom the death-wish is born of a child-wish 
directed against the parent of the same sex. In the 
son, it is rooted in an early sex-consciousness that 
regards the father as a rival for the love of the 
mother, while the daughter looks upon the mother 
as competing for the love of the father. Neurotics, 
later in life, show exaggerated affection for the 
parent of the opposite sex. Such persons suffer from 
what is known as the Oedipus complex. 
Oedipus, in the old Greek tragedy, in accordance 
with the prophecy of the sphinx, killed his father 
and married his mother. This legend has become a 
symbol of the wish of childhood. Naturally, as the 
child grows up, sexual attraction toward the parent 
is withdrawn, and the Censor never allows the death- 
wish to enter the dream unless when off-guard or 
overpowered. 
Writers have often raised the question as to 
whether the conscience is active in the dream. Some 
authorities hold that really virtuous persons will be 
virtuous in the dream, and sinners dream sinfully 
just as they act sinfully when awake. Others be- 
lieve the conscience is indifferent; still others con- 
tend that an immoral dream merely proves that one 
is aware of the idea of a crime. The difficulty with 
the whole question is that one cannot determine just 
who is a virtuous person, and who is not. Morality 
is still an X quantity, and so long as it remains so, 
no charges of dream-immorality can be preferred 
with any justice. Furthermore, since most of our 
morality is a training of the mind or of the con- 
sciousness toward restraint, and since the con- 
sciousness slumbers during the dream, we are all 
reduced to the common level of our suppressed and 
inherited desires, which are at the mercy of an ex- THE DREAM 
53 
ternal stimulus that may summon them into the 
dream. Perhaps, in the man or woman of high 
character, the Censor may prove a stricter guardian 
over the egress of immodesties into the dream area. 
The Censor, however, in this case, is as one before 
thousands. 
Emotions of pain, fear, disgust and suffocation 
are real enough in dreams, though the object pro- 
ducing them be imaginary. On the other hand, 
images of lions, panthers, precipices, and abysses 
may fail to arouse any fear at all. In the latter case, 
percept and emotion do not correspond. Freud 
narrates a dream of three lions which was unaccom- 
panied by fear. The lions stood for certain individ- 
uals who bore the name of Lion. The conclusion is 
evident. Dream emotions may be detached from 
the idea or ideas which produce them, but are 
attuned to the wish behind symbol or picture. In 
fact the Censor may reduce, nullify or convert any 
emotion into its opposite. As a rule, the dream 
is weaker and paler than the waking emotion. 
Freud's theory of symbolism in the dream has 
excited much comment. He maintains that, since 
sexual impulses, above all others, suffer the most 
repression and produce the most intense desires, the 
majority of adult dreams treat of sexual material 
and express erotic wishes. This they do in the form 
of symbols-a shorthand writing of the subcon- 
scious, so to speak. 
To elude the Censor, sexual dreams hide behind 
the most commonplace objects as symbols. Passing 
through narrow alleys, walking through rooms, be- 
ing chased by wild horses, bulls, robbers, and China- 
men, opening locked boxes, being threatened with 
knives, daggers, or pistols-all these dream experi- 
ences are common to persons suffering anxiety in 
dreams, and conceal decided sexual meanings. Sticks, 
tree-trunks, umbrellas and shafts may be traced to 54 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
or associated with an erection of the phallus. Some- 
times persons in the dream represent male genitals, 
while landscapes might stand for female organs. 
Falling, flying, walking up and down flights of stairs 
or ladders may symbolize the sex act. In the case 
of women, dreams of water (stream, lake, ocean) 
are dreams of giving birth, or parturition. The 
possibilities of symbols are virtually inexhaustible. 
And Freud would maintain that we cannot interpret 
any dream without taking into account this sex 
symbolism. 
One might ask why we forget part or often all of 
the dream. We certainly always dream more than 
it is possible for us to recall. We dream a good deal 
without even being aware that we have done so. 
I even venture the opinion that no sleep is dreamless. 
When our consciousness is half awake, we may re- 
collect a good deal of what we have dreamt; when 
the consciousness is slumbering, we may recollect 
only fragments; but when the consciousness is fast 
asleep, as often occurs, we recall nothing at all. 
The dream is never as logical and connected as we 
tell it later on. We fill in the gaps with matter 
that does not occur in the dream (or is not recollec- 
ted), but which our rationalizing wake-a-day mind 
is eager to supply in order to justify a kind of 
sequence in the dream and to bring order out of 
chaos. It has been observed that the dreamer, in 
describing his dream to the psychoanalyst, often 
doubts whether he is telling it aright. Such doubts 
arise generally in connection with the weak and in- 
distinct elements of the dream, and are the offshoot 
of the Censor resisting penetration to the subcon- 
scious areas, or are due to the condition of the con- 
sciousness during the dream. 
Now, the reason why, according to Freud, for- 
getting is inevitable, is given as follows: The 
emotions during the dream are weak; so also are the THE DREAM 
55 
defences against the accidents of external stimuli; 
upon awakening, therefore, the inrush of the sensory 
world is so mighty and all-pervading that all other 
images are swept away. Moreover, it seems, for- 
getting is also an act of purposeful repression- 
another of the machinations of the Censor. 
What we mean by repression in psychoanalysis 
is a running away from a painful memory, or drop- 
ping it out of the conscious into the nether chambers 
of the subconscious. During the period of childhood, 
along with other wishes, sexual desires are also 
repressed. The frequent reappearances of these re- 
pressed memories prove that they have been living 
and developing their own psychic life uninterrupted- 
ly, despite the fact that they may not have signified 
their existence to the consciousness in any decisive 
manner. 
Freud emphasizes the connection between dreams 
and mental disorders. He finds a complete identity 
between the peculiarities of the dream-work and the 
expression of the neurotic's symptoms. A knowledge 
of dream-building, therefore, will give an insight 
into the beginnings of obsessions, illusions, morbid 
fear, and insanity. 
The value of the day dream has not been fully 
recognized. Usually it precedes a condition of hys- 
teria, is built upon childhood memories, resembles 
the night dream in a number of respects, and ex- 
presses-or may express, as the night dream-wish 
fullfilment. The day dream olfers an unexplored 
field for workers in neuropathology and psycho- 
analysis. 
What is the inner nature of this wish that psycho- 
analysts speak about? Briefly, the psychic part of 
man, through want, has developed a combination of 
inner changes or excitements which are ever pushing 
outward and upward. After a want is satisfied, it 
reappears impregnated with a feeling which calls 
up the memory picture of the original percept. A 56 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
feeling which shuns pain and strives for pleasure, 
directly or indirectly, is a wish. Only a wish, be it 
noted, according to Freud, can drive the wheels of 
the psychic machine. 
To prevent possible mental derangement, it is one 
of the functions of the dream, as it is the aim of 
psychotherapy in general, to bring the freed excite- 
ment of the subconscious under the control of the 
fore-conscious. The latter is an area between the con- 
scious and subconscious. When this is accomplished 
the dream serves as a safety valve for the subcon- 
scious. In a word, the purpose of the dream is to 
free the subconscious of its stored-up and unsatisfied 
repressions. 
Toward the end of his treatise, Freud examines 
more closely the deeper aspects of the dream and 
develops his theory of regression, which is intended 
to denote a damming up of the libido at its usual 
outlet and a return to the original percept. When 
an impulse rises within us and seeks discharge in 
the customary manner, but is opposed, it may turn 
back on itself, in which case we have regression; or 
it may overflow, as Prof. Frink suggests, "through 
earlier channels of discharge, and produce reactions 
which are entirely unoriented with, or not adapted to 
the realities of the immediate situation." To illus- 
trate his point Prof. Frink cites the instance of a 
German who, living in this country, would speak ha- 
bitually in the English language, yet, when angered 
or excited, would relapse into his mother tongue, 
despite the fact that none of his hearers perhaps 
might understand a word of what he said. 
From the moment an image enters the mind until 
it is discharged in some way or other, it travels 
through various successive stations of the mental 
pathway. 
During the day there is a continual flow from per- 
cept to subconscious. At night the current is re- THE DREAM 
57 
versed. But regression is not altogether as simple 
as it may appear from the foregoing, because a 
return to the original percept cannot take place with- 
out very important changes. As Prof. Frink makes 
clear, the regressions of the dammed up libido are 
not merely from the present back to the past, but 
from the real inward to the imaginary. The libido, 
when unsatisfied, being withdrawn from reality, 
"makes the individual lose some of his interest in 
the world about him." This surplus energy, for 
which apparently the subject can find no immediate 
use, is then "applied to phantasy, seeking gratifica- 
tion acording to the old pain-and-pleasure principle 
which attempts to satisfy all wishes by the hallu- 
cinatory route." 
With a brief statement that he is not concerned 
with the dream as foretelling future events, but 
simply with the dream as relating to the past, and as 
revelatory of the past, Freud closes his exposition. VIII 
THE FREUDIAN TRAIL 
pREUD'S doctrines flaunt the challenge of the new 
against the old in a way that compels criticism- 
for and against. In point of fact, until very recently 
scientists and laymen have been occupied more with 
repudiating him than understanding him, just as in 
the case of Nietzsche. Much of the criticism has been 
sheer evasion or wilful misrepresentation. But none 
can deny that Freud has unsealed a new fountain of 
thought. The Freudian premise that the dream is 
the road to the subconscious motives, the secret 
door to the psychic life, has in it tremendous impli- 
cations, such as no amount of research, it seems, 
will quite exhaust. Medicine, as never before, 
realizes that, unless it join with psychology, it will 
come to be looked upon as a supplementary science. 
Indeed, for purposes of medical treatment, dream- 
analysis is not to be neglected; even in cases where 
cures may be effected without it, its use may be 
advisable. Many temporary cures, which are not 
cures at all, may thus be made permanent. "Razing 
out the hidden troubles of the mind" is more im- 
portant than cauterizing a wound. 
It is true, however, that, in the light of added 
observation and experience, the Freudian structure 
has been found to be faulty. As with all pioneers, 
there is much that later investigators find to be crude 
or overstated. Revisions are therefore in order. 
Freud's best known critics, Adler and Jung, are not 
critics as ordinarily understood, but investigators 
who were impressed with the revolutionary nature 
58 THE FREUDIAN TRAIL 
59 
of his discoveries and began to espouse them. After 
years of testing and sifting, they came to differ with 
the master in the explanation of points more or less 
fundamental (the specific divergences of Adler and 
Jung will be indicated later) and attempted not with- 
out success to improve upon his groundwork. The 
point is, they did not disparage him, as did so-called 
scholars in England and America. The latter, im- 
brued in the puritanism of New England, were 
startled out of their complacency by the emphasis 
Freud laid on sex. Unfortunately, as is usual, the 
first reaction is a hot resentment toward anything 
which savors of immodesty, though it be the truest 
of truths. It is the hide-bound caste of those whose 
god is "accepted authority" which Freud outraged 
so much at first, and it is these same people who 
have tried since to tone down some of Freud's state- 
ments. As Dr. Burrow said: "It is one thing to dis- 
agree with Freud the observer and in so doing to 
deny the criteria of science, and quite another to 
offer palliations intended to mitigate the poignancy 
of unwelcome consequences inseparable from Freud's 
observations." 
The real controversy, as mentioned, raged 
around Freud's conception of sex. His use of 
the term is broad, and covers desires, instincts, 
wishes, and ambitions. It is more accurate to say 
that the word, for Freud, embraces everything de- 
noted by the idea of longing, striving, craving. To 
quote: "The psychological conception of the sexual 
does transcend the limits of the popular conception 
in both directions: i.e., upward as well as down- 
ward." The tender emotions, included in his defini- 
tion of sexuality, are defined as "outgrowths of 
early impulses, applicable even where, in the course 
of further development, the original goal of these 
impulses has ceased to exist as such, or has been ex- 
changed for a wholly new one. Having learned to 
look at the matter in this way, we now like to use 60 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
the term psycho-sexual in preference to sexual, in 
order to emphasize our belief that the higher mental 
constituents (seeliche Faktor) of the sex life be 
taken cognizance of, and their significance fully 
recognized. In short, we now use the term 'sex- 
uality' in the same broad sense in which the German 
word lieben is employed." 
This latter explanation, written after Freud's 
critics had been making objections, sounds convinc- 
ing; but does it accord with his original dream 
analyses? I will confess, the point is debatable. 
However, such objections as J. V. Haberman raises, 
to the effect that Freud's analysis "seems not to 
be of the patient's actual mental life, but nine-tenths 
to ten-tenths of below-belt thinking," are really of no 
value as objections, because the critic is forgetting 
that much of the mental life of adults is concerned, 
whether acknowledged or unacknowledged, with 
sexual matters. It may be that Freud overstates his 
point, but one cannot prove him to be wrong, as far 
as his general premise is concerned. 
Says Dr. T. Burrow: "There is a non-sexual clause 
in dreams as in life." The statement does not con- 
tradict the Freudian theory which maintains that a 
majority of the dreams of adults have a sexual con- 
tent. 
To say that at the bottom of every dream lies a 
sexual impulse is to indicate merely the dynamo of 
the dream and in no way to reflect upon its nature 
or character. The fairest bloom must trace to a 
root; the loveliest flower must have a soil. There is 
no doubt, of course, that other primary instincts 
enter into and shape the content of the dream, such 
ds fear, mastery, submission, self-preservation, etc. 
Whether Freud implies that all instincts are out- 
growths of the sexual, or deliberately ignores those 
which are not sexual, is not clear. As Dr. Solomon 
expresses it: "Many other emotional surgings besides 
those based on the sexual instinct underlie our 
dream life." THE FREUDIAN TRAIL 
61 
In connection with the foregoing, it may be well 
to set down here an interesting series of dreams 
related to me by a student of psychoanalysis. 
Dream 1-"The King and Queen of Belgium 
(who were visiting this country at the time) sat at 
a banquet table. They had refused my personal 
invitation to visit. Mr. Miller, who sat near me, 
said: 'What do you think? The King refused our 
invitation.' I maintained a lofty indifference. 'The 
King,' he said, 'should be grateful for a plate of 
soup with a piece of white bread soaked in it. He 
does not like art.' " 
Dream 2-"The King at the head of his military 
body-guard rushed through the rooms of the art 
gallery like a whirlwind. At his heels came a troop 
of Belgian peasants and middle-class followers who 
dispersed and rushed toward the paintings in eager 
acclamation." 
Dream 3-"In a large private room with Fritz 
Kreisler, the violinist. A large portrait of the 
musician on the wall. From a wooden partition 
door came the artist himself with collar and tie 
unbuttoned." 
If Freud were to explain this triple dream, he 
would say something like this: "The king and queen 
represent your father and mother. Going through 
rooms signifies erotic emotions. The piece of white 
bread is a phallic symbol of some sort." The 
dreamer, a student of psychoanalysis, however 
deeply he searched and analyzed his own dream, 
could discover nothing erotic, and in no way could 
he associate it with his parents. He offered the 
following explanation: "I hate royalty. Some time 
ago an article of mine appeared urging that litera- 
ture be revised to exclude kings and queens. It 
also happens that several weeks ago I found myself 
near City Hall, New York, in the midst of a crowd 
that waited for the rulers of Belgium, and I wonder- 
ed why crowds still flocked to see royal personages. 62 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
Finally-I have been trying to buy a ticket to a 
Kreisler recital, but could get none, much to my 
disappointment. My violin teacher once appeared 
in a similar pose (as the dream) of putting on his 
collar." 
There is certainly here a desire or wish seeking 
fulfilment, but it is apparently non-sexual, unless 
the love for music be construed as sexual. 
English psychologists are so incensed at the so- 
called indecency of the sexual exposures by Freud 
that they have altogether repudiated his teachings. 
Sir Robert Armstrong Jones is the voice of this 
group. He writes: "The psychoanalyst always 
finds what he is looking for, and there is not a single 
object in the universe for which some sexual signi- 
ficance cannot be discovered: even the Zeppelins in 
the sky are a phallic symbol. I venture to think 
there has been an unnecessary pandering to the 
lower instincts of innocent men and women on the 
part of those who describe themselves as psycho- 
analysts. I believe that in the full pursuit of this 
craft, which is on a par with mysticism, occultism, 
cubism, futurism, etc., there has been a distinct over- 
stepping of the decencies of sex. Among psychia- 
trists in this country, at any rate, thanks to Dr. 
Mercier, Freudism is dead." 
One hesitates to call this attack rational, surely 
not scientific, in view of the question of decency, 
with which medical research cannot be concerned; 
which, in fact, is a consideration that dare not count 
with investigators of worth. Besides, it is illogical 
to base a charge on so shifting a value as the 
public guardianship of morality. It is about time 
we divorced science from considerations of ethics, 
just as we have succeeded in divorcing it from con- 
siderations of religion. 
Freud's insistence upon the sexual origin of 
dreams is partly to be explained by the Austrian 
temperament. Before the war, the Viennese were THE FREUDIAN TRAIL 
63 
frankly sex mad. Oriental sensualism pervaded the 
whole of the Austrian empire from the Hapsburg 
ruler down to the lowliest chamber-maid. The 
social was helplessly interwoven with the sexual, 
as in Germany. The sole topic at the dinner table, 
for a period, was sex. One could start a conversa- 
tion about such remote subjects as upholstery and 
pavements, but would find himself arguing about 
sex before he was half through. The whole drama 
of central Europe was permeated with sexual con- 
flicts, allusions, abnormal and indelicate situations. 
The plays of such men as Schnitzler and Wedekind 
characterized the school. And in the matter of 
dress the same thing applied. The entire military 
machine, in fact, was determined by the thought 
of sword, sex, show. The exploits of the soldier- 
hero were for the purpose of winning and overcoming 
the female admirer. Indeed, military pomp, for 
ages, has satisfied a subconscious craving which is 
allied only too closely to the sexual. 
Several years ago I had occasion to visit the 
barracks of the Austrian army. I heard there, in 
the circle of high military officials, chatter of the 
lewdest character imaginable, and I witnessed read- 
ing of the most obscene literature. At officers' 
clubs, in social coteries, at tea and coffee houses- 
everywhere, the principal topic of conversation was 
the eternal feminine from the vulgar sex angle. Out- 
wardly these men were polished, refined, chivalric; 
but if one pricked the surface, the fawn, the satyr, 
and the roue stood revealed. I presume similar in- 
ferences might be drawn from a study of the ways 
of most armies, but in Austria the impulses were 
at the breaking-point. 
It is scarcely to be wondered at, therefore, that 
Freud, being a Viennese, and living at such a time, 
was sex-obsessed, viewing all cases pathological and 
neurological as originating in sex urgings and sex 
repressions. Still, even if we desire to be conser- 64 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
vative, we admit that half of the dreams of adults 
do treat of sexual matters and express erotic wishes. 
In the case of the male the sexual impulse is subject 
to constant excitation by the feminine appeal in all 
the every-day bids to the eye and ear. Magazine and 
poster advertising, by its almost nauseating em- 
phasis on the "pretty female," has done a great deal 
to arouse such impulses. 
Critics have tried to soften the rigor of Freud's 
theories just as some philosophers have tried to 
sweeten the idea of death. He must be accepted at 
his own valuation, or rejected. There is no use in 
trying to read into his pronouncements ideas which 
he never had. Such methods might succeed very 
well with biblical literature, but not with scientific. 
Those persons who are shocked, or cannot reconcile 
their respectability to the Freudian discoveries, had 
better linger in their fond ignorance incommunicado 
rather than try to, as they think, "serve society" by 
their "interpretations." 
Leaving the critics for a while, let us ask our- 
selves whether there is any purpose in the dream. 
The question is frankly a difficult one, almost 
as difficult as the question whether there is 
any purpose in life. A number of satisfying 
explanations, however, have been offered. The 
old authors who affirmed that the dream took 
one to another world and "liberated the soul from 
the chains of the sensual" were expressing a truth 
symbolically. Freud calls the dream "a momentous 
psychic act whose motive is at all times to fulfill a 
wish." Admitting the dream serves such a purpose 
too, can we narrow it down to this purpose only- 
wish fulfilment? Obviously, relief is implied in this 
theory, but mere wish fulfilment hardly describes 
the total combination of impulses, psychic and 
otherwise, that issue from the subconscious. What- 
ever the purpose of the dream, it must be a useful 
one; otherwise it would have ceased to function long 
ago. THE FREUDIAN TRAIL 
65 
With reference to wish fulfilment as an explana- 
tion of all dreams, let us consider the case of a 
tailor who contracted syphilis. As a result, he was 
compelled to postpone marriage to a girl he was en- 
gaged to. When the latter threatened suit, he was 
thoroughly intimidated. One night he dreamed that 
his betrothed came and stabbed him in the back. 
Now, the question is, did constant brooding suggest 
such a thought during the day, and did this appre- 
hension turn itself into a kind of suppressed wish for 
what I would call "vicarious wish fulfilment" during 
the dream? Freudians would say simply that the 
tailor wished unconsciously (subconsciously) to be 
killed, and that is why he dreamt of his betrothed 
coming to stab him. It seems to me that my own 
explanation-vicarious wish fulfilment-would fit the 
situation much better. It was the girl, and not the 
man, who sought revenge; the death wish must 
have arisen in her mind and was divined by the tailor. 
In the dream, the personal repository energy re- 
leased by the girl's strong thought-currents and 
absorbed by the tailor's subconsciousness unwound 
itself, so to speak, into a dramatization of the 
original desire. It is the same with dreams of 
holding conversations with three or more persons. 
Their replies are not given as directed by our wishes, 
but as releases or unwindings of personal energies 
left with the dreamer by them during waking 
moments-by them or by others for whom these 
persons in the dream act as substitutes. 
One cannot deny that the dream activities prefer 
or gravitate toward those thoughts which are 
pleasure giving. Cases in point are those of a woman 
who dreamed she was patting the buttocks of her 
horse, and of another who loved to play with the 
testicles of young boys-two cases already referred 
to. In these dreams, both women indulged their fan- 
cies and found relief from the pressure of their 
desires. It may perhaps be more accurate to say 66 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
that the line of least resistance in the dream is 
toward wish fulfilment. 
When we study the dreams of alcoholics or dreams 
disturbed by strange laughter or sudden crying out, 
we are forced to disagree with Freud, who believes 
all dreams are dreams of convenience. Actual dreams 
of convenience may come-as to women who dream 
they have their menses when in reality they are 
pregnant, or to children who run and play when 
they are lame and cannot do so, or to beggars who 
are lords in satin. Such dreams are the strivings 
of nature toward compensation, as already explain- 
ed ; a balance wheel arrangement to provide for what 
is not attained in reality. 
As employed by Freud, the word "wish" refers to 
the time and period of the dreamer only. Often, as I 
tried to make clear in one of the foregoing para- 
graphs, the dreamer acts as the medium of an un- 
conscious wish assimilated by suggestion from 
another person. In such case, he is simply a con- 
ductor of invisible energy which is impinging upon 
all of us, all the time. This theory explains the death 
wish admirably. It also explains our inventive and 
creative activities in the dream. What escapes con- 
sciousness during the day and passes into the sub- 
consciousness, with its own array of senses, is 
potential matter that may be used in the dream, 
wholly unaffected by the wishes of the dreamer. The 
fact is, it is difficult even to say just which ones 
are our own wishes and which are the wishes 
of others. In dream analyses, this ought to be an 
important consideration. Thus, a person who knows 
himself or thinks himself to be highly moral may 
be subject to a series of erotic dreams. In such a 
case there are two possible explanations: either the 
man is not really moral or his dreams are only 
vicarious wish fulfilments. The efficient psycho- 
analyst will reach a decision only by calling into ac- 
count other factors, which will strengthen one of the THE FREUDIAN TRAIL 
67 
other possibilities. The Freudians will favor the 
first explanation. 
Everyone, of course, believes his own wishes are 
original with him, but it is doubtful if the average 
person even knows what he wants. The wish is 
founded upon an illusion which the heart clings 
to and cherishes. The illusion, as a general rule, has 
in it the possibilities of pleasure, when fulfilled. But, 
in the face of experience and observation, it is hard 
to believe that all people crave only pleasure. 
Shall we deny the reality of the wish for what is 
ugly, disagreeable, irritating, or painful? 
It is plain there has been much quibbling over the 
word "desire." Definitions have been wildly thrown 
about. If the word "compensation" more accurate- 
ly describes the idea in mind, let us substitute it. 
The Freudian premise is not refuted thereby but 
brought to a sharper focus. 
When a pleasurable emotion is repressed, there 
follows a painful or anxiety dream. Freud's expla- 
nation of fear in the dream as the fulfilment of an 
inverted wish is, I am afraid, too fantastic and far- 
fetched. He is too painstaking here to rear a 
structure of one shaft. The relation between the 
wish and fear is admittedly obscure. One is an 
instinct based on self-preservation; the other is a 
sentiment concerned with gratification or fulfilment. 
Dreams may fulfil fear as well as wish. As an illus- 
tration, one of my patients, a young girl of sensi- 
tive organism, was subject to three successive 
shocks: the Big Tom explosion in New Jersey, a 
burglary in her home, and the sudden ruinous course 
of her brother. These blows proved too much for 
her. And the dreams, instead of relieving her stress 
by the fulfilment of her wishes or prayers, only 
brought additional fears. Another patient, who was 
employed by a large insurance company, suffered 
fear dreams in which he saw himself discharged. 
These dreams persisted even after he was assured 
that his position was secure. It is certain the man 68 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
did not wish to be deprived of his livelihood. The 
dreams, therefore, were fulfilment of fears. 
How shall we explain, consistent with the Freu- 
dian theory, the dream of a man who is haunted by 
fire and constantly dreams of fire? Or of the man 
who dreams of punishment when he has transacted 
some illegitimate business during the day? Wish- 
fulfilment does not explain. 
Upheavals in the dream may be nature's way of 
effecting a cure. The dream may serve as anti- 
toxin. Psycho-functional disorders may be cured by 
a series of suggested fear and anxiety dreams. 
These, serving as purgatives, would clean out the 
mists in the consciousness. The complex in each 
particular case may be located by knowing and 
studying the dreams which were common before the 
disease grew acute. 
After all is said, the relation of fear to the dream 
is a problem that is far from solved. Prof. Frink 
believes the origin of the fear dream is due "either 
to unusual relaxation of repression or in unusual 
strength of a repressed desire . . the fear is really 
converted desire (libido) escaping from repression.'' 
This opinion is rather a restatement of Freud, who 
has not solved the problem, despite his very praise- 
worthy attempts in that direction. IX 
IN FURTHER PURSUIT 
PERHAPS too much emphasis has been placed on 
the dangers of repression. Often where 
mental injuries occur, nature herself may 
right them in time. And generally a desire that 
is too violent is counter-balanced by a judgment 
which is sufficiently restraining. A maladjustment 
takes place where the judgment is weak and the 
desire is unbridled; such a maladjustment may 
develop into a neurosis. The reverse situation may 
also bring on a neurosis, i.e., where the judgment 
is so restraining as to convert every desire into a 
repressed impulse. In the case of distinctly un- 
healthful desires, repression is not only not harm- 
ful but decidedly beneficial. Repression of desires 
of this nature, when practised habitually, will in 
time produce a balance wheel to regulate the wish. 
In general, however, when repression is spoken of, 
repression of natural and functional impulses is 
meant. And repression here is decidedly injurious. 
The balancing referred to is similar to that which 
now rules in the cell structures. As in the heart 
there are inhibition and acceleration nerves, so in 
every cell there are positive and negative sparks, 
radical and conservative, urging to diametrically 
opposed points. The stronger energy ultimately dis- 
solves, swallows, or routs the weaker. 
Dr. T. Burrow is author of the paradox: "We 
think that repression is the result of sex. But we 
are mistaken. Sex is the result of repression. 
Sublimations are substitute forms of repression." 
69 70 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
By sex, we take it, Dr. Burrow means the fire or 
passion which burns in the bosom of modern man 
and woman. But, whatever his intention, we can- 
not subscribe to his hypothesis. Sex is not the re- 
sult of repression, nor is repression the result of sex. 
Sex is a natural instinct which is neither excited nor 
quieted by repression, depending on the nature of 
the constitution of the person reacting to a given 
stimulus. Repression in the case of one person may 
redound to his lasting good; in the case of another 
person it may prove his undoing. Psychotherapy 
has to be specific in its cure: each individual re- 
quires different treatment. The genuine psychoana- 
lyst acts accordingly. 
Is the logical answer to the whole problem of 
desire and repression the removal of all restraint 
and the fulfilment of all desires? Would sex free- 
dom and sex gratification at an early age give us 
a society of more normal people and dispense with 
the further need of psychotherapy? Biologically, 
removal of all restraints upon the natural impulses 
is impossible as well as destructive. After the rut- 
ting season, it is restraint that rules and sustains 
the animal world. Dr. Burrow is felicitous here 
in saying that "repression is not pathologic, but 
biologic." 
As to the nature of dreams, it is interesting to 
note Henri Bergson's opinion. He believes dreams 
are "only mental states of relaxed consciousness. 
In sleep we have ceased to collect and choose. The 
mind brings together memory-associations which 
were formerly packed away in the store-house of 
the unconscious mind." What chemico-physical or 
physico-electrical changes take place during uncon- 
sciousness is not hinted, however. 
It is hardly sufficient to say that the dream is a 
continuation of the waking state. The dream 
really has two stages: a semi-conscious or twilight 
stage when the mind is half asleep and the sub- IN FURTHER PURSUIT 
71 
conscious is not yet liberated, and the unconscious 
or fast-asleep stage when the conscious and sub- 
conscious blend. 
That the content of the dream has its roots in 
experience is, for the most part, true; but ex- 
perience cannot here be limited to the individual. 
It may revert back hundreds of generations, and 
in this sense is radical. The dream, in fact, need 
have no connection with the waking state, but may 
derive its impulses from an unknown cosmic source. 
Whether the dream merely repeats, but in a 
non-sequential manner, the intellectual operations of 
the thoughts behind the dream is uncertain. The 
dream-work is altogether different from waking 
thought and cannot be compared with it. Possibly 
another element, foreign to the dream thought, is 
ever present during sleep to shape the dream. 
It is highly doubtful whether, on waking, we can 
always be sure that we have dreamt. It is best 
that so often we are not aware, else there would be 
no rest for the system. The consciousness is often 
totally at rest. Those that maintain the contrary, 
and contend that the full psychic powers of the 
waking state are carried over into the dream, are 
arguing against observed fact. There is almost 
invariably a marked checking of the mental process 
in the dream; the mind works under diminished 
pressure then, when it works at all. This is so 
manifest that further insistence on the point would 
give the contrary view too much importance. 
In the practice of psychoanalysis, since there is 
so wide a latitude for the personal bias of the 
analyzer, interpretations must necessarily vary. 
Not unusually they conflict. The fear is that in- 
terpretations, carried out according to the Freudian 
procedure, may represent the interpreter's fancy 
quite as much as the actual mental condition of the 
subject. There is always the danger of sug- 
gesting to the patient what he ought to think and 72 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
feel. Freud emphatically contends that "it is im- 
possible to press upon the patient things which he 
apparently does not know, or to influence the re- 
sults of the analysis by exciting his expectations." 
We think on the contrary that it is not only quite 
possible but of ordinary occurrence. The analyst 
must be exceptional who escapes "filling up the 
vacuum" of the subject's responses with some of 
his own inferences. 
To translate the writing of the manifest dream- 
content back into the original dream thought 
is to "unscramble scrambled eggs." The dream 
remains, in the last analysis, "beyond the horizon" 
and will not suffer itself to be subject to a com- 
plete uncovering. There will always be what I 
might term a dream-sediment. 
The meanings of certain symbols in the 
dream, which the Teuton mind readily recognizes, 
remain obscure and unconvincing to the American or 
Englishman, not to mention eastern races like the 
Japanese. To the western world, for instance, 
dreams of falling are not symbolic of erotic temp- 
tation or disease, however erudite and persuasive 
Freud may be on this point. Freud in fact came 
to admit that symbols present great latitude 
or elasticity for interpretation. This amounted al- 
most to a retraction of the feasibility of his whole 
symbol theory. One might ask, when is a symbol 
not a symbol? And one might answer: when it 
does not fit the case in hand. 
The symbol is supposed to speak the language of 
the subconscious. Its object, according to Freud, 
is to disguise the original significance of the dream. 
Dr. Meyer Solomon is of a contrary opinion. He 
thinks that "sexual dreams are as a rule frankly 
and not symbolically expressive," and that if there 
is any symbolism it is "clear, direct, and simple." 
In searching for associations behind the pun, for 
instance, psychoanalysts run to absurd lengths. IN FURTHER PURSUIT 
73 
Too many forced connections among the threads 
of the dream-analysis vitiate their conclusions. 
That the word "July" should suggest Julius Caesar, 
and in turn the part of Brutus one plays in com- 
mitting a crime, or that a cravat is linked with the 
idea of a weight around the neck and that therefore 
one ought to get rid of a betrothed, is rather fan- 
tastic. One can hardly forbear to smile when 
the analysis of a dream wherein a woman asks her 
husband to hang himself is explained to mean that 
she knows thereby a vigorous erection is induced, 
or that gaps in the dream imply openings in the 
genitals of women. There is apparent, through all 
this, an effort on the part of psychoanalysts to force 
logic into chaos. 
In dividing the dream into parts, each of which 
is made to show causal relation to the other, Freud 
therefore seems to be mathematical beyond warrant. 
His scheme is not fluidic enough to correspond to 
the actual dream. The mechanism we supply for 
the dream may be entirely foreign to its actual pro- 
cess. It is an excellent supposition that Freud gives 
us, and will stand as long as no better one is offered 
in its place. But let us not forget that it is only 
a supposition, a guess. 
With reference to typical dreams, such as 
dreams of nakedness, falling from heights, etc., 
these may be traced to posture while asleep, to 
strong sexual excitement, or to heredity. I have 
in mind the case of a cloak and suit manufacturer 
who was often teased to observe his clothing 
model (the latter a recognized type of exhibition- 
ist) when she was half nude. Being an orthodox 
Jew, and compelled by his conscience to suppress 
his desires, he suffered constantly from dreams of 
nakedness. When the tendency from the subcon- 
scious is re-enforced by one from the conscious, as 
in this instance, a series of disturbing dreams of a 
frankly erotic nature may follow. 
Dreams of inability to move indicate that the 74 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
centre of locomotion cannot function while asleep. 
When the centre of locomotion is active, we have 
cases of somnambulism. Linking dreams of teeth 
irritation with masturbation is absurd. Trans- 
ference from the genitals to the mouth is not a 
normal dream state. 
Dreams of water, which Freud claims are dream 
symbolisms of giving birth, in the case of a woman, 
do not seem to be in accord with the observations 
and findings of obstetricians. As to accounting for 
the death-dream of a beloved relative, one of the 
explanations is that the dreamer here is drawing 
upon accumulated feelings of hatred toward brother, 
sister, mother or father, which derive their 
power from the early life of the human race, so 
that the feelings may be said to be racial rather 
than individual. The Oedipus complex, particularly, 
lies at the root of this type of dream. The dis- 
covery of a natural antagonism between parent and 
child of the same sex may be disturbing and shock- 
ing, but it appears to be genuine. Biologically, the 
condition arises from historical circumstances. 
There probably was a time when communities were 
widely scattered in individual units. In such 
a primitive state, the females perhaps rarely 
saw any males for long periods. When the father, 
absent for days and weeks hunting food, returned, 
he was accorded special greetings. The adolescent 
daughter with sex longings, on such occasions, 
would feel a secret attraction for the father and a 
consequent jealousy of the mother. Incest and in- 
breeding might be the result. Today a similar at- 
traction of daughter for father and repulsion of 
daughter for mother survives in the subconscious, 
and is called the Electra complex. 
Bernard Shaw has said with much truth: "Every 
English girl hates her mother." And he would 
not be so far away from the truth if he made the 
dictum universally applicable. As to the son's re- IN FURTHER PURSUIT 
75 
garding his father as a rival in love, this condi- 
tion is far less observable in modern city life, 
though not altogether extinct. Excepting cases of 
perverts, the ancestral vividness of this complex has 
been dimmed-even in childhood. The social code, 
as well as a sense of decency, has tended to era- 
dicate this feeling. Psychologists in considerable 
number, however, place great faith in the sound- 
ness of the Freudian philosophy at this point. Both 
complexes may be summed up as: son versus father; 
daughter versus mother. 
To hark back, for a moment, to the death-dream 
of a dear friend or relative: another explanation is 
my theory of vicarious wish fulfilment, which I 
have already described. This is perhaps a more con- 
vincing theory than the other. Both, however, are 
worthy of serious consideration. 
The sanest estimate of Freud's contributions to 
this phase of the problem has been given us by 
Dr. Meyer Solomon. I take the liberty of quoting 
him somewhat fully: 
"All must agree that Freud and his school have 
shown a wonderfully acute psychological insight. 
They have turned the searchlight on the intrica- 
cies of the sex problem and have endeavored to 
understand and explain the role of the complex 
sexual impulse and to trace it from its very origin 
through its development to its normal goal. 
"But despite the praiseworthiness of their 
methods in whatever work they have undertaken, 
it is noteworthy that Freud and his followers have 
overshot the mark. Their most serious error has 
been that they have attached too great importance 
to the sexual element in all their cases... so one- 
sided has been the work of the Freudians in this 
respect that Freudian psychoanalysis is nothing 
more or less than sexual analysis... as a conse- 
quence we find their conclusions are one-sided, 
biased, partial, and hence much in error. The 76 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
sexual idea of the Freudian school will have to 
be almost entirely revised, and the false conclu- 
sions discarded." 
On the other hand, H. W. Frink finds that "those 
writers who report success with psychoanalysis 
have followed strictly the technic of the Freudian 
school, and secondly, those who fail have not ad- 
hered to Freud's theories." Dr. Ernest Jones 
of London echoes the foregoing statement when he 
writes: "Unless Freud's critics are ready to put 
themselves to the trouble of mastering his technic 
and giving his method of psycho-analysis an honest 
trial, they do not deserve a hearing and by their 
irrational method of blind opposition bring into dis- 
credit psychology itself." 
Dr. Trigant Burrow, though he regrets as much 
as any one else the sex-dominancy in man, con- 
cedes the validity of Freud's conclusions. "After 
all," he says, "man is new to life. That sex or 
its vicarious palliations should have become for him 
the affirmation of existence is due to the novelty 
and immaturity of consciousness itself. It is but 
natural that, having come suddenly into the 
franchise of consciousness, man should employ his 
liberty of action in the wanton aims of personal 
satisfaction, or in the tedious propitiations of 
vicarious conformities. But there is something 
deeper still, more native to man than this. It is 
expressed in the social merging of personalities into 
each other in the pursuit of the common good. It 
is that quality in man that ever goads him to 
search and strive to the utmost benefit of the race. 
It is this quality of harmoniousness and unity in- 
herent in the social aims of man that is the strong- 
est principle of man's consciousness. This it is 
that men have called love. This, it seems to me, 
is the true affirmation of life." 
To me, Freud is soundest in his exposition of the 
mechanism of dreams, rather than in his symbolic IN FURTHER PURSUIT 
77 
interpretation of them. When he describes con- 
densation, dramatization, and displacement, in the 
process, he is convincing, even when he tells us 
that dreams, in the form they come to us, are sym- 
bolized. But in his elucidation of those symbols 
he is attempting at best to put meaning into specu- 
lative phenomena. That is, if the symbol is repre- 
sented by x, why pin down the value of x to one 
cipher ? 
The subconscious mind-and this work will try 
to emphasize this point-has laws of its own. There 
may be a gap between the conscious and the sub- 
conscious, such that may preclude completely apply- 
ing the laws of one to the other. 
All in all, Freud's interpretations may be said 
to be ingeniously connected clues unearthed and 
followed out by a master-detective. It is doubtful 
whether a common quality runs through the gen- 
erality of dreams so that one can definitely establish 
a working1 set of principles for universal applica- 
tion, as Freud seems to think. The most that can 
be said is that there are certain aspects of the 
dream which can be scientifically studied, and cer- 
tain phenomena of the dream that lend themselves 
to analysis; that dreams may be profitably in- 
vestigated and a good many sound inferences 
drawn as to their causes, their meanings, and their 
purposes. But the attempt to find a common 
standard must fail. No doubt there is a law govern- 
ing psychic processes; but such a law cannot be 
formulated. Like the law of the drama which un- 
dergoes revision with every great new play, so this 
law of dreams, if it is ever set down, will go through 
continual transformations. As indeed there is no 
life rule for all, so there can be no dream rule for 
all. X 
NEW DOORS TO THE UNKNOWN 
WHETHER we agree with the Freudian hypo- 
thesis, entirely or in part, there is no doubt 
that Freud has opened new doors that will 
lead one knows not where. 
Dragging into the light of the conscious so many 
of the hidden and hitherto undivined existences 
of the subconscious is like revealing a new hemi- 
sphere to an old world. And, having witnessed the 
revelation, we cannot suffer our vision to remain 
circumscribed as before. Our geography has to 
be revised. The newly-discovered areas must be 
explored; the land must be mintu to reach the 
precious ores underground. 
Corresponding to biological evolution, one might 
say there is a kind of dream evolution. The cave 
or cliff dweller knew dreams, but of the most un- 
developed order. Later, in connection with the 
primal instincts of fear, there probably arose the 
first glimmerings of the dream as we know it today. 
With the security of cities and the increasing com- 
forts of civilization, dreaming has almost become 
an institution. The dream that visits the cultured 
and intelligent individual today shows a degree of 
complexity (progressive symbolism) greater than 
that which visited the sleep of a Socrates or a 
Zeno. The next age will show dream elements of 
higher and different psychic qualities. The psychic, 
then, as revealed in the dream, is also in evolu- 
tion. If, as Freud holds, the dream has its roots 
in the infantile life, which is a residuum of forces 
78 NEW DOORS TO THE UNKNOWN 
79 
that stem from the dream-lives of myriads of an- 
cestors, then all the more probably does the dream 
repeat the dream-history of the race. 
Nothing is so certain about the dream as its 
uncertainty. Freud would give us the impression 
that he is dealing with an exact science, whereas 
the dream is anything but exact. Precision and 
proof are still impossible. At best, we are as 
children peeping into a dark room. Our only refuge 
is conjecture. 
It is more accurate to view the dream as a free 
play of fleeting, evaporating energies, external and 
internal; a radiation of the psychic operating dur- 
ing sleep as a reserve night-light; in brief, a dif- 
fusion and confusion of electronic energies in the 
mind. 
Where animal matter is deposited in the brain- 
layers by the blood from within, thought-energies 
or dream-energies in the subconscious mind are 
just as distinctive, and derive their nourishment 
from external invisible sources. Physically, the 
dream is a nervous by-product of our daily activi- 
ties, an evidence of disturbance in metabolism. 
Whence comes the dream? What push-button is 
pressed to give it shape and essence? Expressed in 
terms of anatomy, the cells of certain areas must be 
irritated to cause dreams. According to stimuli, I 
should classify dreams as follows: 
1- Purely physical: hunger, sex, or stim- 
ulation. 
2- Purely physiological: disturbance in 
the workings of the system, due to 
bile, kidney, or circulation defects. 
3- Psychological: internal explosions of 
energy, as wishes, fears, etc. 
Dreams may change their quality under varying 
conditions of health. In the case of tubercular 80 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
patients, dreams become physiological when they 
(the patients) are in fear of death. Upon im- 
provement, their dreams show an undercurrent of 
hope and become psychological. Upon recovery, 
the dreams are apt to become purely physical. 
All stimuli may be reduced to forms of energy 
which unite with an inner psychic stream to pro- 
duce energy combinations. Havelock Ellis mentions 
a class of dreams which Freud has apparently over- 
looked: the vesical dream, or the dream associated 
with the urinary process. Ellis, after going into the 
matter, concludes that "the sexual impulse and the 
vesical impulse are closely allied yet distinct forces 
which tend to play powerfully upon sleeping con- 
sciousness." 
Whatever it is which causes the mind to inter- 
pret irritations of stimuli in sleep is still unknown. 
It can only be designated as an electro-magnetico- 
psychic force which has gained strength and fine- 
ness by successive improvement through the ages. 
With reference to accidental bodily postures 
causing dreams, I am inclined to believe there is in 
operation a process similar to the electrical circuit. 
Hands held together, or hand on leg, or arm on 
chest, make different electrical connections. Like- 
wise, bodies in proximity give different electrical 
combinations. 
As to dreams of purely psychic origin, these 
are probably induced by energies which issue from 
the group or by spiritual forces which give a 
glimpse of the world to be. In dreams, as when 
awake, we are subject to cosmic forces past, pre- 
sent and future. Perhaps this power of dream fore- 
sight, now wrapped in darkness, may some day be 
found to operate by definite psychic laws. 
Whether physical, physiological, or psychical, 
each form of energy may pass without a break into 
the next. The dream may stress now one form of 
energy, now another. There is a fierce sweep in the NEW DOORS TO THE UNKNOWN 
81 
currents of the subconscious. May there not be, 
as in the material world, a disjoining and rejoin- 
ing of elements as the foam left in the wake of a 
motor boat? After certain dreams, it has been ob- 
served, one is left quite exhausted. 
Do dreams return to their source to produce again, 
in a perpetual cycle, multiform products of energy? 
If we consider a pot of boiling water, we might 
ask, does the vapor change into liquid and again 
form a different vapor? Are such re-transforma- 
tions going on in dreams? 
Whatever the degree of force or volume, it is 
certain that dreams beat in rhythmic waves. The 
resulting hypnosis gives sleep its trance-like depth. 
The external stimuli affect various senses or levels 
of senses from which currents radiate to the dream 
switch-board. First, there are the peripheral or 
surface senses. Next to these, as the overtones of 
music, are the sub-senses which vibrate with every 
perception. Developed to a finer degree, we have 
the superlative senses. These last may be so re- 
fined that impressions not easily detected by most 
of us may thus be perceived. In moments of danger, 
especially, these senses come into play. Helen 
Keller, the blind and deaf woman, feels the rumble 
and the roar of the city smiting the nerves of her 
face. 
The immediate effect of a stimulus upon a sense 
organ is, of course, a sensation. As light turns 
to color, or sound to tones, the dream sensations 
dissolve in the retort of the conscious and then in 
the subconscious to form compounds symbolic and 
unrecognizable. Our division is not meant to be ar- 
bitrary. These triple senses, peripheral, sub-sense 
and superlative, shade off into one another and 
deepen as they go forward. They cooperate to 
produce effects in dreams which result either in 
absurdities or mysteries. 
It might be interesting, though perhaps a bit 82 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
hazardous, to classify the degree of force manifest 
in the dream. 
First I place the volcanic or eruptive. This is 
illustrated by the dream of a clergyman who was 
anxious to achieve big things but felt hampered. 
He dreamed constantly that he was engaged in 
municipal problems, purging the city of vice. His 
dream efforts were truly herculean. In dreams of 
this type the zigzaggings of energy are meteoric, 
though headed toward a definite point. In fact, 
I conceive most dreams as well as hallucinations and 
hysterias as thumping, dynamic, outlawed forces 
which, when released, will raise whirlwinds. 
Second, the automatic, where energy is spontane- 
ously generated without reference to the will; as 
dreams of falling from great heights, dreams of 
the death of dearly-beloved ones (vicarious wish 
fulfilment, and so on. 
Third, the spiral or disciplined flow of dream 
pictures. I have in mind, as illustration, a stock 
broker who, during the day on the floor of the 
exchange, radiated tremendous dynamic power. At 
night, his dreams showed an absence of concern, 
no haste, no anxiety, but rather a sluggish move- 
ment. 
Fourth, mystic or spiritual, which comprise 
dreams of places unvisited, whisperings from the 
departed, or glimpses of worlds unrealized. The 
visions of a St. Francis of Assisi, of Cellini in his 
cell, of a William Blake, belong in this category. 
In dreams of this type there comes a sense of 
surprise. As a case in point, in one of my own 
dreams I revisited my native town, which I had 
not seen for thirty years, and saw all the changes 
which had taken place in that time in my absence. 
The explanation of wish-fulfilment cannot account 
for actualities divined by the subconscious. 
Though having its origin in historical material, 
the mystic dream may have a forward-looking NEW DOORS TO THE UNKNOWN 
83 
tendency-a prophetic glimmer. It is during the 
period of falling asleep, the state of semi-conscious- 
ness, that an inner eye or X eye operates. Many 
experiences have come to my attention to corrobo- 
rate this. To cite one instance: a man who had 
failed in the East determined to seek his fortune 
in the West. He became superintendent of a truck- 
road in Nevada. He dreamed repeatedly of a 
number of mines charted in his vicinity, one of 
which contained undiscovered metal. After a short 
visit East he returned to Nevada and proceeded 
straight to the section indicated in his dream, and 
actually discovered the mine. The dream pointed 
to a real condition. Hundreds of similar experiences 
might be quoted. 
Persons, when sorely distressed, have been known 
to find relief dreaming of a dead parent. Why such 
relief is found in such a manner can only be con- 
jectured. I knew a man who was hounded by his 
family for marrying beneath his station. After 
the death of his father, who was his only sympath- 
etic relative, he often sought and found relief by 
appealing to his spirit. 
I am able here to mention an actual vision of my 
own. During a state of semi-consciousness, I have 
had two visions of Miss I M , a feminist 
leader, whom I knew well. In one of these trances 
I distinctly saw the lady chasing her dog in 
wide circles about the farm (her home) and re- 
proving her younger sister, at the same time, for 
idly looking on. The scene took place, as I said, 
on her farm, which I had never seen nor heard de- 
scribed. In the dream I saw an old decaying oak 
tree forming the background. When the dream was 
related to the mother of the young woman, she con- 
firmed every detail of it. Her daughter was fond 
of playing with her dog, as described, and her sister 
would often look upon her madcap sport critically. 
The scene, in a word, was exactly in accord with the 
dream. 84 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
Again and again, incredible as it may sound, I 
have vividly seen the inhabitants and houses of 
strange places, seemingly of another planet. I can 
recall mountains, canals, streets, and people of a 
character that I have never seen or imagined in 
my waking moments. I even knew, in a dim way, 
that suffering existed there as here. Their buildings 
were round, instead of angular, and of vast dimen- 
sions. Their thoroughfares had three levels, with 
traffic on each one of them. I saw the fruits in 
their markets, their messenger-animals, their 
weird faces and habiliments, all of which the in- 
credulous will set down as fantastic. Was this the 
product of a creative imagination or an actual flash 
into existing conditions? An occult student would 
explain it in one of two ways: During sleep every 
highly developed being is free to leave his physical 
body and roam at will on the astral plane. I might, 
therefore, have glimpsed life on a planet more ad- 
vanced in development than the earth. What is more 
probable is that I was viewing my own life in some 
prehistoric incarnation. In Mrs. Annie Besant's 
book, "Man: How, Whence, and Whither?" she gives 
details of life on the lost island of Atlantis. In 
many respects the vision that came to me in my 
dream tallies well with Mrs. Besant's description of 
the sunken city. 
An arrested thought or feeling, or a shock sustain- 
ed during the day, may lead to a series of dreams. A 
strong-willed superintendent of a Mexican mining 
camp came to New York to indulge his craving for 
women and liquor. This was before the Prohibition 
era. As a result, he contracted a venereal dis- 
ease. His dreams became terrifying. He suffered 
from delirium tremens. When questioned, he ad- 
mitted everything and expressed a resolve to ab- 
stain. Thereafter his dreams ceased troubling him. 
The occult student would here again say that the 
man, by the exercise of his strong will, had freed NEW DOORS TO THE UNKNOWN 
85 
himself from the influence and suggestions of astral 
entities which were using him for purposes of their 
own. We attract to us from the astral those who 
in thought are like us. When we change our thought 
we change our companions. But this is a hard 
thing to do and can only be accomplished by 
one of strong will. The man from Mexico had de- 
liberately invited into his consciousness undesirable 
associates, who, had he been a person of weaker 
will, would in time have used him to such an ex- 
tent that he would have become obsessed, and 
probably have lost his reason. 
Sudden emotional shocks may give a momentum 
to the dream. A man of Jewish extraction, who 
supported a mistress in a special apartment, found 
it deserted one night when he came in. She had 
left him without forewarning. The shock was so 
great that it created in him a cycle of dreams wfliich 
plumbed his mind to the depths of infancy. Dream 
cycles, as in this case, once started, may be stim- 
ulated by the racial will. The Jewish blood in 
this man's veins demanded his mate. 
A young man confessed to me that when a youth 
of eighteen he committed arson in order to collect 
insurance. Later, when he had become a success- 
ful merchant, he suffered from hallucinations and 
dreams of fire. He was haunted for ten years, until 
he underwent therapeutic treatment and was cured. 
The physician here interposed his own will-energy 
and cut off currents that flowed to the fixed idea. 
Sometimes a fragment of an experience slides 
into the subconscious and rests there until it re- 
appears fully matured. Several years ago, for in- 
stance, an assistant of mine tried to injure me in a 
manner that compelled me to discharge him. Years 
later I met him. He was in a most unfortunate 
condition-on the way to becoming a tramp. I 
dismissed the incident entirely from my mind. 
Several months afterward, I had a vivid dream in 86 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
which I saw my former associate sitting crest-fallen 
on a chair, his shaggy head and matted beard 
strangely conspicuous. 
Many are the outer and inner factors that con- 
dition the kind of dream and regulate the intensity 
of the dream-energy. Under my direction, dream 
experiments have been performed by medical 
students and patients. My conclusions may be 
tabulated as follows: 
Color and texture of sleeping garments. An in- 
telligent and wealthy traveler, addicted to dream- 
ing, was asked to sleep in pajamas of different color 
and material (silk, lined, flannel, etc). The dreams 
showed the following variations: 
Climate and temperature: In New York he 
suffered sexual dreams almost nightly. In Canada 
they disappeared. At Palm Beach, Florida, sexual 
dreams, more intense, returned. 
Altitude: when in Peru, climbing the Andes 
mountains, he never dreamed. 
Indoors and outdoors: variation in the dream 
was marked when sleeping under roof or under the 
stars. 
Hunger, thirst, fatigue. Another student, who 
was troubled with dreams of a neurotic character, 
was asked to perform the following experiment: to 
retire hungry one night; thirsty the next; hungry 
and thirsty the next; and hungry, thirsty and tired 
after a long run the next. On the first night he 
dreamed that he fed his friends at college but de- 
nied himself food. On the second night he dreamed 
of a beer party. When one chum offered him a 
glass, another took it away; and so he got none. 
The third night he was at a feast, but arrived after 
the dinner. And so on. After the run he did not 
dream at all (that is, he did not recollect dreaming). 
Automobile and horseback riding. Motor riding 
on smooth pavement causes sexual dreams; likewise 
horseback riding. Incidentally I have observed that NEW DOORS TO THE UNKNOWN 
87 
horseback riding gives one a sense of superiority 
which, in the dream, is expressed in sex mastery. 
In general, stimulating the thermal, static, mus- 
cular (or kinesthetic) senses contributes to dream 
changes and evokes specific orders of dreams. At 
times the dream reacts to the energies of another 
dream. In this way a third energy is born, just 
as blue crossed with yellow will make green. After 
quarrels, the dream will reflect conflict by an up- 
heaval of dormant ideas and emotions. The mental 
battery is recharged and a chemico-electrical re- 
action or a series of reactions follows. 
Technically, we have a case of identification when 
the dreamer puts himself in the shoes of another. 
One of my patients, a silk merchant, dreamed night 
after night that he was a barber's apprentice. The 
facts revealed themselves as follows: the barber he 
visited had been unjustly treated by a lessee of the 
building in which the shop was located. The lessee 
also happened to be a silk merchant. When the 
rent was raised to an inexcusable figure, the 
barber's rage knew no bounds. He even threaten- 
ed murder. My patient felt the injustice of the raise 
in rent and became obsessed with the thought of 
another silk merchant acting so shamefully and 
heartlessly. His dreams showed his obsession. 
Under my treatment he dreamed one night that he 
had become a proprietor and moved away. His 
dreams then ceased to trouble him. 
The mind may be overfed or underfed in the wis- 
dom of the world. There may be too much or too 
little absorption. In either case the resultant 
dreams will be different. 
Typical of the first is the dream of a child who 
matured too early. When young, she traveled with 
her parents extensively and always associated with 
adults. Having no playmates of her own age, she 
had little chance to frolic, as a girl should. Even- 
tually she developed neurasthenia. Her dreams 88 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
showed such scenes as dancing with the Governor 
of Bermuda, etc. 
The second type is illustrated by another child 
who lived in an isolated country house. She was 
taught by private tutors and never associated with 
children of her own age. In time she grew morose 
and fell in love with a visiting engineer past the 
prime of life. She was emotionally underfed. Her 
dreams were of pastoral simplicity: either the grass 
grew to an unusual height, or the gardener overslept, 
or the watch-dog was missing, or the cows refused 
to give milk. 
Both dreams indicate the milieu as influencing the 
dream content. If the calls on the dream-switch- 
board are too many, the result may be psychic hyper- 
trophy ; if too few, psychic hunger. 
I have observed peculiarities of different nations 
exhibited in dreams. Thus, the Finns dream of 
forests and fjords; Poles dream of farms and land- 
scapes; sailors of water; Sicilians, who have dwelt 
near volcanoes, dream of earthquakes. Several who 
come from the sulphur regions have narrated dreams 
of being sold as slaves to sulphur operators. The 
dreams of Germans show suicidal tendencies. 
Americans dream of spectacles, dancing, sports, etc. 
It is difficult to say what the Japanese, Chinese, or 
Russians dream, since they are timid or afraid to re- 
veal their dream, regarding it as a holy visitation. 
Roughly speaking, we may classify the races in 
Asia Minor and the Orient as physical races. Dreams 
of this group are primitive and bestial. The men- 
tal races are in Germany and Austria. Dreams here 
are egotistic. The spiritual races are in France, Eng- 
land, and Russia. Their dreams are complex, show- 
ing all shades of thought and emotion. In the large, 
dreams reflect this system of classification. 
Dream interpretation, therefore, may have a wider 
significance than the neurological. If governments 
want to know the trend of a nation, they might do NEW DOORS TO THE UNKNOWN 
89 
well to investigate typical dreams of the majority of 
its citizenry. If, as a practical application, the 
dreams of the German people had been systematic- 
ally studied and published before the war, as their 
philosophy was, the Allies would have been more 
surely on their guard. The mental state would have 
revealed itself as unequivocally bellicose. 
Dr. Carleton Simon is the originator of a sleep- 
centre theory. I am convinced there is such a centre. 
Persons repeatedly hypnotized develop sensitive and 
receptive sleep centres into which the operator can 
introduce thoughts by suggestion. A slight tap 
awakens. The fact that dreams can be produced by 
tickling the nose with a feather, or by pressing a 
quilt against the neck, points to a direct cortical 
center which must receive the irritation. It is also 
probable that a dream centre controls dreams as the 
pituitary gland regulates the nourishment of bone 
and muscle. Victims of insomnia are often directed 
by me to sleep in such a position that no limbs will 
touch. An interesting pamphlet entitled "The 
Third Eye" (The Pineal and Pituitary Bodies), 
written by Dr. T. P. C. Barnard, gives information 
on this subject not generally known to the medical 
profession. I quote: 
"The pituitary body is the organ of the psychic 
plane. Psychic vision is caused by the molecular 
motion of this body, which is directly connected with 
the optic nerve, and thus affects sight and gives rise 
to hallucinations. Its motions may readily cause 
flashes of light, such as may be obtained by pressing 
the eyeballs. Drunkenness and fever produce illu- 
sions of sight and hearing by the action of the pitu- 
itary body. This body is sometimes so affected by 
drunkenness that it becomes paralyzed. 
"The pineal gland corresponds to the uterus; its 
penducles to the fallopian tubes. The pituitary body 
is only its servant . . . man is thus androgyne so 
far as his head is concerned. Man contains within 90 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
himself every element that is found in the universe. 
There is nothing in the macrocosm that is not in the 
microcosm. The pineal gland, as was said, is quite 
empty during life. The pituitary body contains 
various essences. The pituitary body is the ener- 
gizer of Will; the pineal gland is the organ of clair- 
voyant perception." 
Madame Blavatsky in the "Secret Doctrine" says: 
"The fires are always playing around the pineal 
gland, but, when Kundalini illuminates them, for a 
brief instant the whole universe is seen." 
It is safe to say that only a specialized portion 
of the brain is occupied in dream work. Otherwise 
the human system would never rest. Nature is 
economical in the use of her resources. 
Vegetative or visceral neurology recognizes a 
brain centre that controls the metabolism of the 
body. And interference with metabolism causes a 
dream. The centres of sleep, dream and metabolism 
function in cooperation. 
In further proof, the world has always known that 
rhythmic motion and rhythmic sound produce sleep. 
Cradle-rocking, cradle-song, trolley ride, train ride, 
phonograph music, story-telling, are some of the 
means used to induce sleep in children and adults 
who suffer from insomnia. The vibrations repeated 
at regular intervals cause the sleep centre to func- 
tion. 
When the sleep centre is impaired and connection 
with lower consciousness made impossible, we have 
cases of those who live without sleep for two, three 
or more years. When there is no disconnection be- 
tween both levels of consciousness, sleep may be 
prolonged forty or more days. 
Do we think in dreams? Dream thought begins 
in the subconscious and travels to the conscious. 
Both levels stimulate each other. In the waking 
state, thought begins in the conscious and burrows 
down into the lower conscious. Thus: I see a ditch- NEW DOORS TO THE UNKNOWN 
91 
and stop. Perception is followed by inhibition. In 
the dream, the subconscious, without the stimulus 
from outside, sees the ditch and either feels para- 
lyzed before it or calls out. 
The dream content is not a concrete bridge join- 
ing two shores of consciousness. It is a series of 
much detached, floating images which skip along in 
much the manner as Eliza crossing the ice. Dream 
thoughts are but a fringe of the full thought-fabric. XI 
MORE DOORS 
■XXTHEN resistance is weak, the sick person lacks 
vv sufficient energy to nullify his misery himself. 
Here the physician is needed to introduce an outside 
irritant, in order to free the healing energies, like 
the celebrated platinum wire of Prof. Jacques Loeb. 
Should the patient succeed in absorbing enough 
energy, he will suffer no dream. Otherwise natural 
relief may or may not come by way of the dream: 
particularly when there is pain endangering sleep. 
Not long ago I dreamed I found myself in a room 
that was too hot, and that I went to the cellar to 
open the furnace doors. After this act, I felt re- 
lieved. The subconscious was trying to assist me 
to overcome physical discomfort. When I awoke, 
I found I was covered too heavily. 
The dream may serve as nature's safety valve. 
Suicidal thoughts have been known to disintegrate 
and disappear in dreams. Unexpelled, injurious 
energies that swarm in the conscious mind often ex- 
pel themselves by way of the dream. Unless so 
cleared or purged, these energies, aggravating 
nervous excitement, may bring on disease. 
It is a common observation that the more neu- 
rotic the patient the more frequent is the dream (or 
the recollection of the dream). Soldiers, sailors, 
longshoremen, and persons whose activities bring 
them into the outdoors, are generally not subject 
to much dreaming. The connection between ill- 
health and the dream deserves more systematic 
study. Night-terrors and hallucinations may be set 
down as explosions and combustions of superfluous 
92 MORE DOORS 
93 
energy in sick minds. Even in the case of perfectly 
normal people, dreams may occur that are of such 
vividness and intensity as to convulse the entire 
nervous system. 
According to content, dreams may be absurd, 
meaningless or significant. To me, all dreams 
possess a sense of sincerity. Dreams are frank and 
guileless, as they occur (not as they come to us), 
whereas our conscious selves always operate from 
motive. 
Dream analysis must take into account two dis- 
tinct things: (1) the dream material that performs, 
and (2) the dream material that criticizes. Both are 
controlled or driven by an emotion, such as anger, 
joy, sympathy, wish, etc. 
Dreams lend themselves not only to sexuo-analy- 
sis but to philosophical interpretation. Here, ex- 
posure of a wish expressed in symbols is limited and 
hardly comprehensive enough. It does not reach 
into the real depths of the dreamer's mentality. 
The following dream illustrates my method of 
interpreting. Mr. X-was standing on the top rung 
of a ladder placed against the tracks of an elevated 
railroad. His son was on his back, but slipping off 
gradually. As the father struggled to keep his 
balance, along came a train, and from one of the 
coaches a soldier put out his arm and righted the 
position of the child. When father and son de- 
scended, the father felt relieved. The dreamer then 
entered a park where he expected to meet some 
friends. He did not wish to greet them cordially 
because they had previously slighted him. To avoid 
the encounter he held his hand to his head and re- 
marked he was dizzy and exhausted from the fright- 
ful experience he had just undergone. 
Note the ready-for-use pretext manufactured by 
the subconscious mind. The fact is, the dreamer 
had vainly tried to find an excuse for not shaking 
hands with these friends who were expected the 
following day. A wish, of course, is present. Note, 94 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
however, the dreamer's lack of forgiveness, which is 
the important point. His centre of perfection (a 
term I shall explain later on) was weak and re- 
quired healing. The real self had emerged from 
the dream-mist. 
In probing subconscious states, I have found 
methods other than dream analysis very serviceable. 
Often my patients are directed to write letters and 
keep diaries, touching upon topics that especially 
interest them. One of my patients, an actor, hap- 
pened to be enamored of his leading lady. While on 
the road with his company he wrote me letters, out- 
lining minutely the mental and moral struggles he 
was going through. Between the lines one could 
detect the fluctuations of his subconscious, just as 
these might appear in dreams. Creative thinkers 
-poets, novelists, reformers, etc.-who find an 
outlet for their desires, feelings, and thoughts 
in their writings and deeds, are generally not 
troubled with dreams, because they have a way of 
satisfying and fulfilling repressions vicariously, 
through their work. A musician, in the composition 
of a prelude or nocturne, may satisfy all the longings 
he may have entertained for a beloved one. Like- 
wise a poet in his verses and an artist in his paint- 
ing. Ibsen's "When We Dead Awaken" shows the 
sculptor satisfying his thirst in the creation of a 
masterpiece, at the sacrifice of the woman who was 
the inspiration. 
It is curious to note that we can partially control 
the dream energy if, before retiring, we resolve to 
remember the dream. The following morning we 
are surprised to realize that we have actually 
dreamed and remembered. Sometimes the dreamer, 
during the dream, says to himself, "I am only dream- 
ing, and these things that are happening are really 
not so." When such a thought is strong enough, 
the dream itself becomes a disturbing percept, the 
full consciousness intrudes, and we awake. MORE DOORS 
95 
There seems to be no law of "dream frequency" 
as far as investigation has shown us. Freud says we 
dream every night, and I am inclined to believe him. 
The fact of the matter seems to be that no sleep is 
dreamless. It is only a case of remembering or not 
remembering we have dreamed, or that we have 
not dreamed. 
As to whether moral persons have immoral 
dreams, and vice versa, that is a question which can 
be answered only tentatively, taking the word 
"moral" at its popular value. Now, in my opinion, 
the subconscious during sleep, knowing the hypo- 
crisy or dissimulation, will confess the self. The 
difficulty is, however, that the process known as 
dream-work (dramatization, displacement, and sym- 
bolism of the dream) disguises the original content 
for us, and often makes it impossible to get 
at the confession. But where the confession manages 
to "pull through," so to speak, we may accept it as 
genuine. During the day it is possible to act the 
saint or rogue at will. But the subconscious opera- 
tions cannot be other than natural. Where im- 
moral persons dream the most moral of dreams, 
there are two explanations ready at hand. The first 
is dream-symbolism, which hides the real signifi- 
cance of the dream; the second is that the conscious 
receives warnings from the submerged layers of the 
mind and responds to stimuli from the innate centre 
of perfection. 
Since the dream has no moral code (that evolved 
product of civilization by which society maintains 
itself) it is concluded that during sleep man drops 
back to the brute. This is true, in a large measure, 
but not altogether, because no dream is absolutely 
divorced from influences of the conscious life of the 
person. The subconscious has evolved along with 
the conscious; and though the subconscious life is a 
millionfold richer and superior to the conscious, it 
is also a millionfold more elemental. There is a 96 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
primitive quality in the subconscious which the 
conscious can no longer aspire to (our pillars of 
society would say "can no longer descend to"). 
Dreams of nakedness are perhaps symbolized long- 
ings for a return to nature. Do we not all have 
dreams of brute mastery-the most cultured of us? 
One of my patients, a man of splendid calibre, often 
dreamed of himself as a giant. With whip in hand, 
he said, he would enter his den, where beautiful 
women reclined, and, when he had satisfied his lust, 
would hurl each woman from him in disgust, even 
whipping her to tatters. 
That the dream is an index of the extent of emo- 
tional cultivation in a person is more than a mere 
hypothesis: it is true. Thus, the dreams of the 
ignorant for purposes of treatment are of little 
account; whereas those of cultivated minds are in- 
valuable. Incidentally, the dreams of women are 
more intelligible than those of men in the same 
station. This is attributable to the fact that 
woman's intuition is more alert. 
The constant effort of the subconscious is to tem- 
per emotional extremes. Hence, emotions felt during 
the day undergo a decided transformation in the 
dream. If one hates strongly before the dream, the 
hate will show itself rather lukewarm during sleep. 
Part of the edge wears off in the clash of dream 
energies. Love emotion repeated in the dream brings 
calm. On the other hand, a mere passing fancy of 
the day may lead one into all sorts of exaggerated 
emotions during the dream. This is very likely the 
work of dream-displacement, with which the effort 
on the part of the subconscious toward tempering 
emotional extremes has to contend. On the whole, 
the dream may be said to act as a solvent of the 
emotions. 
Are the after-effects of dreams lasting ? I remem- 
ber once dreaming I had invented an attachment to 
a telephone receiver for taking down messages MORE DOORS 
97 
during one's absence; and how elated I felt for several 
days after! Usually, a multitude of inner, lasting 
sensations are aroused, one knows not to what end. 
In concluding this chapter, I desire to submit a 
number of questions on the purpose of the dream 
which may hold the key to the solution of the whole 
dream puzzle. Here and there I present my own 
views, but leave most of the questions unanswered. 
Is the dream a signal from the subconscious to 
warn the conscious that certain mental states re- 
quire attention or correction? Is it a natural way 
of getting rid of undesirable thought and uncom- 
fortable morbid emotions ? To speak figuratively, do 
dreams act as electric storms that purge the fogs of 
mental atmosphere, or are they to be compared only 
to winds that merely blow cobwebs out of corners ? 
Is the dream a waste-pipe that drains off impure 
emotions arising from thought which have lain dead 
or dormant for a number of years? Is it a purge? 
Does it heal? Just as cut tendons will stretch to- 
ward each other to unite again, may not the dream, 
in the same way, heal mental lesions ? 
Is the dream an inner illusion or freak of the 
senses? If the eye gazes at a red spot for some 
time, its complementary color, green, will appear 
after a while. A marble rolled between thumb and 
third finger feels as two. Indian Yogi are able to lie 
on nails, and Japanese mountebanks to tread on 
sharp swords without injury. Are dreams distorted 
illusions or pictures photographed on the retina? 
Is the dream a psychic substitute for artificial 
wishes clamoring within us? That is to say, if a 
woman sees a dress in a Fifth Avenue shop-window 
which she craves but cannot afford to purchase, does 
the fulfilled wish of the dream serve by self-sug- 
gestion to remove the wish ? 
Does the dream sting portions of the brain-cells, 
reduce their power to function, and act thus as a 
brake or throttle-valve cutting off rash and injurious 98 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
desires? Is there an implied purpose to release the 
better nature of man? And if during the day one 
has a murderous intent and the wish is fulfilled in 
the dream, will the wish vanish, weaken, or incite to 
action ? 
Is there a harmony in dreams ? That is to say, if 
the energies of the lower consciousness explode and 
a number of dreams issue, will there be inner har- 
mony among them ? 
Do dreams act as sedatives? After the hurly- 
burly in dreams of neurotics, one notices a marked 
tranquillity in their immediate waking moments. 
Patients suffering from obsessions are often advised 
to attend the theatre and to read light fiction. When 
dreams follow, do they act as emollients? 
Do dreams conciliate the upper consciousness by 
putting at rest all forces that are in opposition? 
Broadly speaking, does the pessimist of the day be- 
come the optimist at night, and vice versa? We 
know that nature always strives toward compensa- 
tion and the creation of the necessary balance to pre- 
serve sanity. 
Does the dream revitalize? Poets and other im- 
aginative workers are known to feel refreshed after 
a "bath of dreams" in which the thousand and one 
daily aches and bitternesses are, in a manner, dis- 
solved and sublimated. I think a proper under- 
standing of the dream will show it to be a process 
of recovery. 
Is nature, in the attempt to make man a more 
perfect creature, using the dream as one of her in- 
struments toward such a consummation? 
Is the dream a diverting spectacle, like a pageant 
or a prize-fight? It seems the dream often affects the 
mind much in the manner of syncopated music. It 
contains sources of intoxication, with the power to 
exhilarate and refresh, as laughter and tears. The 
rapture of music and the romance of adventure are 
offered in this way to the mind otherwise circum- MORE DOORS 
99 
scribed and incapable of enjoying these pleasures. 
Genghis Khan probably divined this to be the case 
when he royally entertained, for one day, each of his 
enrolled warriors in his palace. The soldier was first 
given a sleeping potion. When he awoke, he found 
himself in a palatial hall surrounded by all the 
oriental splendors of the times. The night after, 
when he went to sleep, he was taken back to his 
barracks, where he awoke. In this way Genghis 
Khan produced in his men artificial day dreams of 
the most brilliant character: a glimpse of what they 
were to expect in the after-world if they died for 
their chief. Herein lay the secret of the devotion of 
his followers. Now, does nature offer a similar will 
o' the wisp paradise in dreams ? 
Finally, are dreams simply-to use a homely 
simile-as pins pushed into the pin-cushion and 
withdrawn, leaving no visible depression in the pad ? 
Or, to change the image, are they like the bank- 
teller who receives and dispenses bills, retaining 
nothing for himself? Is the dream an energy that 
comes and goes like steam issuing from a pipe? Is 
no track or any permanent deposit left in its wake? 
Stimulant or narcotic, regenerator or throttle, 
palliative or purge, conciliator or spectacle, signal of 
distress or wish-substitute-does the dream serve 
one or more purposes, or must purpose in the dream 
be ruled out of the discussion altogether? THE UNKNOWN 
XII 
MEDICINE AND RELIGION 
IF we believe with Jung that the church has out- 
1 grown its usefulness and survives as an ethically 
worthless and inferior relic, the question then arises: 
can religion together with, and reinforced by, med- 
ical science serve a useful social end ? 
Christian Science was at first thought to con- 
summate exactly such a union. But, as some humorist 
very cleverly remarked, the system is neither 
Christian nor scientific. It overemphasizes the part 
the idea plays in the cure, and altogether fails to 
recognize the reality of the organic. In the minor 
functional troubles, Christian Science has proved 
valuable-as, indeed, any hopeful suggestion from 
any source whatsoever is bound to do. 
William James, as we know, came to believe that 
"prayer is beneficial to the sick." But in this belief 
James confirmed a practice thousands of years old. 
Any one who has prayed knows its value. Faith is 
the salvation of half the world. Now how does 
prayer operate? I imagine prayer operates as a 
medium for psychic transference. Through implied 
confession of one's shortcomings, weaknesses, temp- 
tations, it attains to the level of self-analysis. Prayer 
is not infrequently the best cure for insomnia. 
Certain methods which now appear crude seemed 
in the early historic times to approximate the 
psychoanalytic methods of today. Casting out 
100 MEDICINE AND RELIGION 
101 
devils was what they chose to call it, and there is 
no doubt that "miracle" cures and visits to shrines 
often resulted in lasting good. Today we recognize 
these instrumentalities as auto-suggestion. Mr. C. 
W. Leadbeater, in his fascinating book "The Hidden 
Side of Things," explains the miraculous cures that 
so often occur among those who make pilgrimages to 
sacred places as being due to powerful etheric vibra- 
tions emanating from the shrine and being readily 
received by sensitive ones in an exalted state of con- 
sciousness. These vibrations can be felt and seen by 
highly developed and spiritualized clairvoyants such 
as Mr. Leadbeater himself was. 
The church early recognized the responsibility of 
the clergy to the sick. In the charge of Bishops 
in the Apostolic constitutions, these words are ad- 
dressed to the consecrated: "Heal thou, O Bishop, 
like a compassionate physician." The command to 
the Bishop about to be consecrated still reads: "Heal 
thou the sick." The word "sick" I take to mean and 
include more than the "sinful." 
Today, a few insurgent clergymen are coming to 
see that empty ceremonies, formal dogmas, and all 
the baggage of churchianity are lifeless. They can be 
humanized if the minister turns psychologist. It 
is no longer the isolated soul of the individual that is 
to be saved, but the soul of the individual as part of 
the whole social entity. 
One of the most interesting clinical-religious ex- 
periments of our time has been undertaken by 
Elwood Worcester of Emanuel Church, Boston. For 
the last sixteen years he has striven to apply 
Freudism to the church-psychopatherapy to religion. 
The results have been signally gratifying. In a per- 
sonal letter, Worcester writes: "Our general moral 
and neurological work has been carried on by the 
clergy with the cooperation of good neurologists 
in Boston . . . We believe in the cooperation of re- 
ligion and science, and are very careful in regard to 102 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
obtaining good diagnoses in order that our patients 
may run no risks. In the treatment we have de- 
pended upon religious faith combined with the prac- 
tice of the ordinary psychological methods, such 
as varied forms of suggestion and psychotherapy." 
That Mr. Worcester is alive to the existence and 
importance of the subconscious is evident from his 
words. "Most of our moods," he says in another 
part of his letter, "emotions, impulses, and even our 
acts spring from the obscure depths of our nature 
where the candle of consciousness does not penetrate. 
Here are buried all the suppressed desires, the pain- 
ful experiences, the youthful gropings after light, 
the old memories, the hidden sorrows, in short, all 
the secrets of the human soul which emerge in many 
a weird disguise; and to unlock these chambers we 
must have the key, the wonderful key which modern 
psychology places in our hands, and which enables 
man for the first time in some sense to know 
himself." 
There is no doubt that religion can cooperate 
with psychoanalysis to touch the type of mind that 
is moved easily by religious forms. 
Mr. Worcester relates an incident which illustrates 
his method and incidentally the benefits of the move- 
ment. He was called to a hospital to administer to 
a sick child, a girl, who had been operated upon for 
double mastoiditis a week previous. The child was 
unable to retain any nourishment, and was dying of 
inanitiofn and exhaustion. When Mr. Worcester 
reached the bedside, the child was in the condition of 
convulsive vomiting, very near death. In a few 
minutes she was quieted by a story of how bears 
go to sleep in winter. Mr. Worcester then suggested 
to the child that she would sleep for an hour, and that 
when she awoke her stomach would be all right; 
that she would ask her mother for food, and 
would be able to eat all she wished. The child slept 
for an hour and a half. When she awoke, she said: MEDICINE AND RELIGION 
103 
"Mummy, my tummy feels good." She drank two 
bowls of milk and ate two dozen biscuits and asked 
for a glass of ginger ale, after which she went to 
sleep. She recovered completely soon after. 
Clearly the spiritual personality of the clergyman 
can often accomplish what the physician cannot. He 
can serve as a compliment to the doctor who is 
accustomed to dealing with physical facts. Of 
course, the tragedy is that the physician so often 
ridicules the practical working of psychology. 
In treating persons as so many "cases," physicians 
rarely consider the faith and morale of the patient. 
These are, however, of the utmost importance in 
seeking a cure. 
That the work of religious clinics, such as the in- 
stance cited, has proved valuable, none will deny. The 
work done by such institutions has already received 
the commendation of the surgeon general of the 
United States. Courses in psychotherapy are sys- 
tematically offered to seniors in a number of theo- 
logical seminaries today. The church may yet sur- 
vive. 
Personally, I have doubted the efficacy or use- 
fulness of the church as an instrumentality for the 
social and mental uplift of the race. Classes with 
undeveloped imaginations will always exist, and 
these the church will always attract-and help. The 
solemn interior of a cathedral, the organ music, the 
lighted tapers and the shrines stimulate the sense 
of wonder in the churchgoer and provide relief from 
the drabness of the world of trade, the world in 
which we spend the best part of our lives. XIII 
THE SUBCONSCIOUS 
HEN popular writers began to talk of sub- 
personalities and multiple egos, they were 
vaguely approaching truths about the human mental 
machine to which modem investigation has given 
something like a scientific validity. What has hither- 
to appeared as indecipherable becomes clear by the 
exposure of the trap-door beneath the normal, con- 
scious self. Here dance the imps responsible for 
many of the singular acts and words of the indi- 
vidual. 
Prof. Muensterberg took it upon himself to deny 
flatly that there is such a thing as the subconscious 
altogether. But he was compelled to invent a sub- 
stitute word: co-consciousness. In a satirical vein, 
J. V. Haberman refers to the field below conscious- 
ness as "a metaphysical realm, a limbo which re- 
ceives the products of repression and conflict of the 
conscious. It is nothing but an atavistic remnant of 
the old ideas of being 'possessed' which were used 
to explain unnatural phenomena in the early days 
of our race." 
After all is said, the subconscious cannot really 
be defined. It is a convenient assumption in psy- 
chology as the ether is in physics. In the same de- 
gree the forces of fire, air, and electricity are ex- 
plained by their manifestations, so that most erratic 
motions of the innermost self argue an underground 
magazine in the arsenal of the psychic mechanism. 
Many ambitious definitions have been attempted 
of the unconscious, as Freud christened it, or the 
subconscious, as we prefer to call it. Most of these 
104 THE SUBCONSCIOUS 
105 
definitions are worthless. Of those that might be 
mentioned, one by Lipps is quotable. He calls un- 
conscious ideas "potential inner perceptions." Psy- 
chologists seem to agree that every act of percep- 
tion or thought ab ovo leaves behind it an im- 
pression, and that every impression registered on the 
conscious leaves a sub-impression on the unconscious. 
To Freud, this subconscious or unconscious is the 
basis of the psychic life. As the larger circle, it em- 
braces the smaller circle of the conscious. Yet only 
through the conscious can we come to know or ex- 
perience the subconscious; just as we know reality 
only through the senses. The conscious is the cen- 
tral station which reports to us the happenings of 
the subconscious. 
Graphically put, the states of the conscious 
are given by Dr. Morton Prince: 
Focus of attention 
Fringe 
Co-consciousness 
Sub-consciousness 
I may be permitted to go a step beyond the dia- 
gram. I believe the subconscious stems from and 
merges with the universal conscious or cosmo-con- 
sciousness. 
Freud believed the subconscious to be the place 
merely of repressed urges or wishes, some being im- 
possible of fulfilment. In fact he regarded wishing as 
the only business of the subconscious. Other psycho- 
analysts believe that suppressed wishes, rather than 
having to find lodgment in the subconscious, may 
continue in the conscious all the while, or evaporate 
somewhere between the co-conscious and the con- 
scious. On the other hand, they believe the sub- 
conscious may be the home also of free wishes; that 
is to say, that wishes may arise there and go to the 
conscious. 
Truly, the nature of our sub-personality is a 
deeper mystery than the reality of the external PSYCHOANALYSIS 
106 
world. We may pride ourselves that we have 
attained a modicum of knowledge of reality, but we 
must confess ourselves in the deepest dark as re- 
gards this newly-discovered sub-self. 
The subconscious is the constant element handed 
down by countless generations; a psychic contin- 
uity, like the parent seed in procreation. The con- 
scious, on the other hand, is a variable quantity. 
The subconscious represents a totality of organic 
memories, whereas the conscious receives, is 
equipped with, and retains the memories only of 
this life. 
Freud rightly believed that "it is not possible to 
form an idea of the abundant unconscious streams 
of thought striving for expression in our minds." 
It is also well to remember that "the most complex 
operations are possible without the cooperation of 
consciousness." 
The sub-self windows, looking out upon the 
phenomenal world, may reveal surer details to the 
mind than the waking senses. This is made mani- 
fest in the ability of the blind, the deaf, and the 
dumb to move about the streets safely, and to detect 
persons and objects without the aid of sight or 
sounds. Helen Keller describes winter scenes of 
New England more colorfully and vividly than her 
more fortunate sisters who are endowed with normal 
senses. We are even inclined to believe that the 
subconscious has preternatural gifts. 
In the "Story of My Life" Helen Keller says: 
"Each individual has a subconscious memory of the 
green earth and murmuring waters; and blindness 
and deafness cannot rob us of this gift from past 
generations. This inherited capacity is a sort of 
sixth sense, a soul-sense which sees, hears, feels, all 
in one." 
Artists of every type-as well as some scientists- 
are moved by stirrings of power from the lower 
strata of the mind. The inventor brooding over his THE SUBCONSCIOUS 
107 
machine, the musician over his score, the poet over 
his verse, the sculptor over his clay, the dramatist 
over his scene, are all possessed by the imps of the 
lower consciousness. 
Often the subconscious is the antithesis of the 
conscious. Consider the story of Francois Villon, 
vagrant, burglar, murderer-and poet. Consider 
Jean Jacques Rousseau, who could abandon his 
children in the streets and write such splendid 
treatises on education. Consider such cases as 
Chatterton, Kit Marlowe, Shelley, Dowson, Poe, Tol- 
stoi, and a host of others, all of whom manifested the 
antithetical level-the double personality. Steven- 
son's Dr. Jekyll is so wonderful because, besides 
being a work of great imagination, it is also a work 
of great insight into the truth. Man is dual. 
When the individual falters between good and evil, 
two opposing impulses, there is a pushing and pull- 
ing between the dynamic energies of the two strata 
of the mind. To drink, or not to drink, is the 
familiar example. If the subconscious wins, there 
is defeat, because here the subconscious acts under 
no control, but rather as the instincts act-im- 
pulsively. 
Many are the pranks played on the conscious by 
the demons that dance below its threshold. The 
following authentic cases, involving the love-passion, 
illustrate the dominance of old memories in every- 
day life. A fragment of a subconscious image may 
violently stir a host of ideas and feelings almost re- 
sembling a complex. 
A man of my acquaintance told me he once fell in 
love with a woman instantly because of a striking 
dress she wore and an odd twinkle in her eye. The 
dress was reminiscent of the favorite color worn by 
his mother and the twinkle in the woman's eye re- 
called an expression he once admired in the eyes of 
an actress. 
Another man fell in love with a woman while 108 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
playing cards with her. The irresistible attraction 
for him seemed to be her bare arms and hands. Upon 
analysis it appeared that as a child he had been very 
fond of a toy with carved arms, and that later in life 
he had intensely admired the arms of a marble 
statue. 
Another case: a man was falsely accused by his 
wife of infidelity. He flew into a spasmodic rage 
and could not be quieted for weeks. When young, 
this man was accused by his father of a crime he had 
never committed. At the repetition of such a false 
accusation, his old resentment flared up. 
Still another case is that of a man who, one day, 
upon entering his home, found his wife entertaining 
some boys who had assisted in putting out a 
fire, and were being refreshed after a strenuous fight 
and severe drenching. The sight enraged him be- 
yond bounds. His history revealed that when he was 
a lad his mother had often befriended a poor boy of 
the neighborhood, and that this always made him 
feel hateful and jealous. Years afterward the buried 
thought exploded upon ignition of a similar sight. 
I know a woman who was anxious to revive the 
love of her husband. She was told to try different 
colors in her dressing, and to give preference to the 
kind and style of clothes she wore when he courted 
her. The effect was astonishing. Reminiscent 
emotions were revived. 
In another instance a lady wanted to discharge 
her maid for entertaining a policeman. The husband 
refused to allow the dismissal. A quarrel ensued. 
As a child, it was revealed, the mistress of the house 
had been envious of her own mother who used to en- 
tertain a policeman. The incident brought back 
memories together with their angry associations. 
"Gradiva," a story by Jensen, portrays a young 
archaeologist falling in love with the bas-relief of 
a Pompeiian girl whom he meets in the flesh at 
Pompeii. Later, to his surprise, he learns that she 
had been a playmate of his when a lad, and further THE SUBCONSCIOUS 
109 
that she lives within a stone's throw of his house. 
From the foregoing incidents, it seems that the 
complex buried with the picture is real. A symbol 
of experience connected with painful memories will 
ignite emotions long buried. Until aroused, they 
may be ineffectual phantasies. When the picture is 
once revived, however, the original perception follows 
with all its consequences. 
Many a phantasy, born of one strongly imprinted 
event, may lie in the subconscious until it becomes an 
obsession. Witness the two cases that follow, alike 
in some respects. 
I obtained this story from one of my patients by 
directing him to "talk freely about anything." I 
hinted at his childhood, and he told me the following: 
When a child, living in Scotland, he had been caught 
by the game-master of the estate stealing pears. 
After a good drubbing, he was brought before the 
local magistrate and fined. He swore he would never 
rest thereafter until he got his revenge. He came 
soon after to the United States and began to train 
himself in gymnastics. The day came finally when he 
returned to Scotland. He beat up both the game- 
master and the local magistrate, and returned to 
this country with peace of mind. 
The second case is that of an Irish youth who, 
while a boy, had been badly treated by the lord of 
the manor at home. He came to the United States 
for the main purpose of earning enough money to 
return again and get the whiphand over the un- 
scrupulous landlord. He returned to fulfil his am- 
bition. He succeeded in buying up all the mortgages 
and defeated the landlord at his own game. After 
that, his obsession ceased to trouble him. 
In memory-refreshings and incitings, the trivial 
may be as consequential as the manifestly signifi- 
cant. At an afternoon tea, a wife made an indirect 
remark to her husband in the presence of a third per- 
son. In astonishment the husband dropped his cup 110 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
of tea on the rug. His wife upbraided him for his 
carelessness. At this, a dispute arose which almost 
ended in a separation. The incident stirred up per- 
sonal memories in the husband of a scene that 
occurred years before, and which upset him then 
very acutely. 
Cases of rich girls running off with their 
chauffeurs and rich men marrying chorus girls are 
illustrations of revived love for tutors or servant 
girls known in childhood. 
From cases like the foregoing, one is led to con- 
clude that, when stirred, the subconscious mind may 
become unreasoning, stubborn, and dangerous. To 
the sane outsider, such occurrences appear as tea-pot 
tempests, but the host of memories with which they 
are thickly interwoven give them special reality in 
the eyes of the person affected. 
I believe the zig-zaggings of the subconscious 
mind are poorly explained in terms familiar to the 
conscious. To say that it speaks only in symbols 
is to come as near as we can. It is more accurate 
to describe the activities of the subconscious as up- 
heavals and radiations of electronic energy. Then 
the apparent absurdities connected with the lower 
consciousness become at least partly understandable. XIV 
THE NEUROSIS AGAIN 
THE problem of the neurosis has puzzling aspects 
for study. Adler's theory, based on the power 
principle, or the wish-to-be-above idea, is a strictly 
biological explanation, and as such is limited. For 
the feeling of inferiority developing a neurosis does 
not have to trace back to an organic definition, as he 
contends, but may have its roots in psychic persua- 
sions. Whole races may be said to be infected with 
this feeling of contra-assertive inferiority, like the 
Turks or the Germans; or groups of people, 
especially religious groups, like the Puritans. Here 
it is impossible to trace back to any constitutional 
inferiority. So with individuals: their neurosis may 
be wholly psychological. Social snobs are a case in 
point. They will descend to any degradation in order 
to encompass their ambition, which is to be counted 
among the "smart set," the local "Four Hundred" 
in their town. The feeling of inferiority is mental 
and not physical in its origin. The mind is de- 
ficient, not the body. Adler, however, as far as 
he goes, is right; and he has gained a large following 
in this country, among whom the most prominent 
perhaps is Dr. William A. White. Viewed strictly 
from the anatomic standpoint, there is hardly any- 
thing to add or take away from Adler's theory. His 
exposition is thoroughly sound and scientific. He de- 
scribes what takes place quite felicitously when he 
says that "groups of cells may throw off the yoke of 
their central nervous system and set up a govern- 
ment of their own." This secession from the union, 
this declaration of independence on the part of the 
111 112 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
obsession, is a not infrequent occurrence. We have 
instances of it daily. The woman who thinks the 
whole world is looking at and thinking about the 
mole on her face, the fellow who has to look into 
every mirror he passes to assure himself that one 
half of his face is not larger than the other, the 
person who is sure that the fates are against him 
in everything he undertakes to do-these are com- 
mon examples of the obsession which makes a normal 
person a neurotic in that particular notion. When 
we assert that a person has a mania for certain 
things, we ought to know that we are not speaking 
entirely figuratively, but very largely literally. A 
mania which directs the whole mind toward it, 
a mania which succeeds in disintegrating the union 
from which it has seceded, becomes the neurosis. 
Freud divided all neurotic cases into two classes: 
hysteria or compulsion, which comprises doubts, ob- 
sessions, and phobias; and neurasthenia or anxiety 
neurosis, which can be traced to sexual injuries. 
Freud's view of the origin of the neuroses is 
illuminating. At first he concluded that hysteria 
and the related neuroses have their origin in a shock 
of sexual character in early childhood. Later he 
abandoned this position. (The fact is there is scarce- 
ly a human being who has not had some sexual shock 
in early youth; yet it is often difficult to determine 
Whether the story as told to the physician may not 
be a mere invention or phantasy on the part of the 
patient.) Freud then traced the cause of neurosis 
to some sexual activity in early childhood to which 
the neurotic is fixed. All conflicts of the neurotic, 
according to Freud, arise out of the childish past. 
The problem of the physician is, therefore, to un- 
ravel this childish "fixation" or attachment to in- 
fantile pictures and habits. The neurotic patient is 
such because he denies himself the satisfaction of 
his erotic needs. He flees from normal life and takes 
refuge in a neurosis. In this way the neurosis may THE NEUROSIS AGAIN 
113 
be looked upon as the result of a desire or need to 
escape from the forbidden impulses of life. 
Dr. Jung, in his fight to liberate the theory of 
psychoanalysis from the shackles of sex, refutes the 
Freudian claim. He believes, as I have pointed out 
elsewhere, that most of us may have had infantile 
sex pictures, but that these do not become fixed. The 
secret lies in the conditions that bring about a "fixa- 
tion" of vital energies to these infantile pictures. He 
concluded that the neurosis usually occurs at the 
moment when a new adaptation is demanded. It is 
a problem of adaptation that has failed. The cause 
is not in the past but in the present. To escape from 
the difficulty or unpleasantness of the moment, the 
individual regresses or returns to an earlier 
situation. 
Both of these explanations I find circumscribed. 
They are definitely set down as though the electron 
had never been discovered. We are all combinations 
of energy and products of yesterday's ten thou- 
sand years. Distinct energies are buried with in- 
stincts and impulses which go with every act and 
word. Our instincts write with subconscious urg- 
ings. Partly responsible for the quality of these 
energies are our ancestors. Through centuries, 
human energies have expanded and accumulated 
power. Today we are pushed and pulled by 
countless energies in constant process of change. 
Such energies escaping from the body flow along 
paths which we are accustomed to call habits. Even 
habits, in the final analysis, are not personal. They 
are racial. In fact, no conduct of any sort may be 
called individual. The psychic currents that press 
in upon us from the accumulated energies of the 
past compel us to act as we do. 
Now, when certain tendencies express themselves 
in channels which we ordinarily recognize as over- 
worked or stressed to excess, we have a neurosis. 
The neurosis is simply a derangement of energies 
in the nerve-cells caused by an inexplicable urge. 114 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
A fright, an explosion, a burglary, each or all of 
these might cause a shattering of invisible energy. 
Ordinarily the medium will not be affected unless 
sensitive. If sensitive, poisonous energies will mul- 
tiply until the neurosis shows itself. Then there 
is an urge for expulsion of these superfluous ener- 
gies, either by act or dream. If there is no expul- 
sion, a mania or phobia will result. 
The attendant physical change is a disturbance 
in the function of a cell. The power of combustion 
is lost. The cell equilibrium is upset. Bitterness, 
idleness, snobbishness, envy, self-pity, greed, and 
even death may result. 
Hysteria is psychic explosion. I recall a patient 
who went into convulsions when she recalled the 
scene of an attempted seduction by Russian soldiers. 
The picture freed tangible energies which expressed 
themselves without hindrance. 
Obsessions are points of psychic condensation. 
If burst, normality will return. Thus, a man came 
to me obsessed with the idea that he suffered from 
syphilis, when as a matter of fact tests showed he 
was perfectly healthy. I advised him to take a long 
journey and centre his mind upon interesting things 
and persons. Slowly, under the pressure of other 
interests, the obsession faded. 
Another patient was convinced that the left half 
of his face was shrinking. Nothing was noticeable 
upon examination. By suggestion that he wear a 
mask, he was cured. 
Fright is most often psychic shock. In the case 
of the sensitive it will produce neurosis. The Big 
Tom explosion in New Jersey left a permanent im- 
pression upon many nervous systems. Shell-shock 
has been found to leave actual molecular incursions 
upon the surface of the human system. In such 
cases poisonous energies fester. There is a distinct 
destruction at the ends of nervous bulbs, visible THE NEUROSIS AGAIN 
115 
under the microscope. When examined, they ap- 
pear as minute peripheral points, as if blasted by 
lightning. 
In chorea, epilepsy, and neurasthenia, however, 
there are no visible anatomic changes that have yet 
been discovered. The neurosis is purely functional, 
not organic. 
Of course, the conditions that bring about the 
neurosis are without number. In cases of domestic 
disagreement between husband and wife, the neu- 
rosis may become a sort of refuge. Where the man 
bends easily, the woman, yielding only under com- 
pulsion, may collapse. In the development of neu- 
rosis, home conditions play a considerable part, 
because neurosis, as has been pointed out, is more 
often the result of psychic than organic disturbances. 
Hallucinations may come from past shocks of 
conscience. A Southern merchant who became 
successful by crushing without mercy all his com- 
petitors in town came to me suffering from hallu- 
cinations of persecution. Upon inquiry I learned 
that he was unmarried, and had no other interests 
than financial. I advised him to cultivate a grand 
emotion. He studied dramatics, as he was very 
fond of the theatre, and fell in love with his lady 
instructor. His finer emotions were quickened and 
he began visibly to change. Then he anointed his 
conscience by offering his defeated competitors 
shares in his business; whereupon his hallucina- 
tions vanished like smoke. 
Sexual impotency or loss of manhood may come 
about through a strong feeling of inferiority, in 
confirmation of the Adlerian theory. An educated, 
cultured gentleman of 57, well preserved, and one 
who could easily pass for 40 or 45, reproached him- 
self for not being able to satisfy his beautiful young 
wife, whom he thought to be about 40 at the most. 
Upon questioning her, she confessed her age was 
48. The husband admired his wife exceedingly and 116 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
had degraded himself in his own eyes because of a 
supposed weakness. And as a result of his self- 
degradation he had paralyzed his masculine powers. 
The line between the normal and the neurotic is 
just as shady as that between the sane and the in- 
sane. Jung says "neurotics fall ill of the same com- 
plexes with which we sound people struggle." In 
the final analysis, the question reduces itself to con- 
verging and diverging psychic streams: an inner 
and an outer. Between neurosis and normality, 
there is simply a difference of the meeting of these 
forces at odd angles. 
From long experience, I have grouped neurotics 
into three divisions: the susceptible, or those who 
will contract a neurosis under any circumstances; 
the self-helping, or those who will cooperate with 
another toward a cure; and the hopeless, or those 
who resist or are immune to any curative treatment. 
In handling these three classes I have observed that 
most psychic ills originate in excessive introspec- 
tion. The problem is to catch the oncoming disease 
before it crystallizes. I conclude, therefore, that 
when the subconscious is locked, the indentations 
will disappear and the illness vanish, despite the 
Freudian theory of suppression. It is curious that 
pleasures evaporate quickly and pain lingers. This 
fraction of pain must be expelled in some way or 
other, physically or psychically. In cases of morbid 
brooding, I advise my patients to imagine they have 
no brains at all. "Don't think," I say to them. 
And since the exercise of "not thinking" is hardly 
a strenuous one, the suggestion is successful. 
I recall a woman from Vienna who came to this 
country shortly before the war. Soon after word 
reached her from abroad that her father had died 
and that her two brothers were missing. The 
grief almost upset her mind. I advised her to 
put her hand near her head, when seized violently 
with grief, and make an actual gesture of expelling THE NEUROSIS AGAIN 
117 
the disturbance-which she did. Her normal peace 
of mind and strength returned after administering 
this treatment to herself. Now, the explanation of 
the cure is physiological and psychic. It has been 
shown that the brain cells, under affliction or fear, 
tend to shift and readjust themselves automatically. 
When there is no equilibrium in the cell, as in can- 
cer, the help of the psychoanalyst is necessary. For 
the most part, however, mental injuries are self- 
curable. 
Furthermore, there is a "centre of repair" in the 
psychie. As in surgery where bones will knit to- 
gether (a combination foot tendon, when cut, will 
close up again), so brain shocks will tend to attain 
balance and self-cure. What is called the "recuper- 
ant process" operates from this centre of repair. 
This accounts for the self-cure of millions who 
never consult a physician for their psychic ills. 
Stronger energies swallow and neutralize the 
weaker. 
In concluding this chapter it will be well to re- 
capitulate the essential points of the Adlerian 
position. His school holds that the sexual is 
not the motive power behind the neurotic disorder; 
that the final goal which the neurotic always holds 
before him is the magnet which compels every act 
or thought; that power is his god, since it gives 
pleasure, and feebleness is despised, because it 
brings pain; that the neurotic who clings to 
infantile wishes does so simply for refuge or es- 
cape; that the Oedipus complex is a childish con- 
venience. 
It seems that Adler clings too desperately to his 
view of masculine-feminine, up-down, power-feeble- 
ness. He must fit every neurotic act to this notion, 
just as Freud traces every neurosis to a repression. 
Herein lie the faults of theorists who show no 
fluidity in their thinking. His evidence is exceed- 
ingly flimsy and his dreams prove nothing. To 118 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
Adler, the dream shows invariably a striving for 
power. 
Adler expresses in pathological terms the bio- 
logical idea of faulty adaptation. When there is 
an interference and the will is threatened, mere 
self-preservation will strive for protection at the 
weakest point. Finally, where Freud shows and ex- 
plains a neurotic manifestation as the denial of a 
wish-fulfilment, Adler shows the necessity which 
compelled that wish. Freud traces the cause to an 
infantile sex shock which becomes "fixed" by re- 
pression, whereas Adler finds the actual "fixation" 
in the consciousness of a bodily inferiority. In 
these points lies the divergence between master and 
disciple. 
It will be well to reiterate here just where and 
how far I go beyond Adler, Freud and Jung in 
those special aspects of psychoanalysis already 
touched on. I contend (first) that the dream is not 
necessarily the fulfilment of a suppressed desire 
of the day before, or of the dreamer himself, but 
that it may rather be the up-surging of suppressed 
desires not satisfied in the dreams of our ancestors; 
that, further, the dream need not even be the ful- 
filment of any desire at all, suppressed or other- 
wise, but rather the irritation of physical sensations 
with physical derivatives. That (second) the dream 
of the individual of today amounts to, as Freud 
might express it, a recapitulation of the dream- 
history of the race. That (third) there is an in- 
visible part of matter in us, now only potential, 
which is positive and creative, and has a directing 
energy over the negative and visible part of matter; 
that all our impulses and our will to power (sup- 
pressed, sublimated, or directly satisfied) operate 
under the guidance of a universal will-to-power 
which may be said to be the dynamo of the cosmos, 
and of which the invisible positive matter in us is 
a part; that this universal creative will, just as it THE NEUROSIS AGAIN 
119 
has given us senses and an instrumental intelli- 
gence to deal with the world as we have made it 
or found it, so it is ready to work out for us super- 
senses (subconscious matter) and a spiritual divin- 
ation which shall comprehend the world as it really 
is. 
Let us now go beyond the immediately physical 
and emotional causes to the levers which move all 
abnormal activities of the human organism-psychic 
energies. XV 
THE ENERGY THEORY 
'XXT'K are in the midst of invisible forces. These 
vv stream to and from the human organism and 
combine with its energies to produce a third kind 
of energy different from the component parts that 
produced it. We shall refer to this third potency 
as the X-energy. 
Under semi-hypnotic states, we observe something 
like a splitting of matter and energy as distinct and 
separate as the electric bulb and the electric cur- 
rent. Pull the string, or press the button, and be- 
hold-the light! Some such process takes place 
when outer stimuli, whatever their nature, flash an 
inner signal. The phenomenon is perpetual and in- 
volves practically every human reaction. 
Life is a thing of extension and continuity: a 
total of inherited energies subject to the direction 
of the subconscious intelligence in a previous life- 
chain. Nevertheless the life energy of any indi- 
vidual may be increased by conscious effort ex- 
erted in the present. 
We have said that Adler is too strictly biological. 
And that is so. Freud hovers here and there over 
the idea of energy escaping through the psychic, 
but quickly withdraws as from the edge of an abyss. 
Jung more boldly asserts that psychic phenomena 
are distinct manifestations of energy. 
The future will reckon with matter not as basic 
to mental interactions but rather as psychic energy. 
Life is energy and energy is consciousness. As 
Gustave Le Bon, author of "The Evolution of 
Forces," expresses it: "Matter . . is a closed reser- 
120 THE ENERGY THEORY 
121 
voir of energies-intra-atomic-which it can ex- 
pend without borrowing anything from without." 
As a matter of convenience I speak of energy as 
though it proceeded from two sources, an outer and 
an inner. Both energies function differently, in- 
deed. The outer is an energy of single action. It 
can only enter; but it decides the quality of the 
inner energy. The inner energy has dual action and 
is involved in the self. It absorbs outer energy, 
assimilating it with itself to transform the product 
into a third kind of energy. 
By observing a sufficient number of cases, we are 
able to conclude that a psychic law underlies the 
operation of these energies. 
Consider the child. It has been shown that, 
during the nine months before birth, the energies 
the embryo receives from the mother herself, 
such as nutrition, emotional reactions, or esthetic 
sensations, will affect the quality of its being. After 
birth, added to the endowed energies that come 
from the remote and immediate past, will be the 
outer energies contained in the milk and love of the 
mother. To the quality of inner energy is added the 
quality of the outer energy. 
If the nurse have love in her heart, or having 
none should punish the child to prevent it from com- 
plaining, different energies are set at work. A 
mother's milk is especially valuable to the child for 
its richness, which the child craves. An angry 
mother will sour her milk. And an infant's tiny sys- 
tem can readily detect a clash or harmony of ener- 
gies. 
Consider the adult at his meal. Prepared food 
represents energies of discovery and preparation 
accumulated through centuries. In addition, the 
manner of serving, the cleanliness of surroundings, 
the thought of having earned the food or of being 
dependent upon another, as on parent or charitable 
institution, are invisible energies from without that 
affect the quality of the energy within. 122 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
As to the degree to which persons react to outer 
energy, they can be placed in five groups: first, 
those upon whom outside energy has no effect. 
These are the self-sufficient. They possess the power 
to withstand and reject undesirable influences and 
therefore will neither yield nor compromise. The 
Irish who live in England remain Irish to the bone, 
despite all outer assimilative influences. This is also 
the case, though less now than formerly, with the 
Hebrews. Individuals who typify this class are the 
geniuses. Second, those insensible to any influence, 
and born without a spark. The idiot, the criminal, and 
the human clod typify this class. Third, those 
whose quality and quantity of psychical energies 
depend upon incoming forces for sustenance: the 
average type. Fourth, the sensitive barometers. 
These contain potentialities of good and bad. To 
them, for example, an attitude of hostility or de- 
sire to deceive will react like a strong ray of light. 
In pathological cases, one can witness feverish radia- 
tion without the ability to neutralize. Fifth, the 
degenerative. Such persons inhale and absorb outer 
energies continually without the power of rejection. 
They are unable to extract sufficient force of a kind 
that will counterbalance an inner weakness. The re- 
sult may be dreams, vices, neurasthenia or hallucin- 
ations. These are the shallow, the frivolous, the 
light-hearted, and all those who fall easy victims to 
the follies of the day. They are the prey of a single 
impulse. 
Let me cite three cases of weak resisting powers. 
The first is that of a pampered son of a western 
millionaire who had been pampered as a child. He 
came East and developed kleptomania and stingi- 
ness. At a hotel he could not resist stealing little 
knick-knacks from the mantel-piece. 
Another case is that of a rich young man who had 
been left $1500 a month in trust, yet was constantly 
in debt. He too had been spoiled by the over-liber- 
ality of his parents. He was cured, however, when THE ENERGY THEORY 
123 
imbued with a sense of responsibility by his be- 
trothed, who transferred her stronger psychic 
powers to him and at the same time strengthened 
his powers of rejection. 
The third case is that of an aviator, son of a 
judge. Though heroic in many ways, his potential 
energies had been thwarted. An inquiry into his 
history showed that the family at table never smiled 
or spoke cheerfully. Furthermore, this youth was 
looked upon by his people as a parasite to be 
supported for the balance of his life. He developed 
humility and docility accordingly. His energies 
stayed sealed. His powers of rejection were un- 
developed. 
There are also different kinds of attitudes in the 
manifestation of energy: First, the attitude of the 
obedient or disciplined, who accept commands freely 
and naturally. Second, the disobedient or wilful, 
who pretend acceptance of some unfavorable con- 
dition for the time, but resist inwardly. Third, 
eruptive and primitive-the trace of the savage in- 
herent in all of us and cropping out in some: usually 
the "black sheep" of the family. Fourth, venomous- 
the counterbalancing force of the mind to give it 
fibre, to overcome super-refinement. This energy in 
small doses is the bitter tinge which adds the nec- 
essary pungency to life. The proportion of these 
energies which go to make up the human personality 
are distributed by the Centre of Perfection in man. 
It is hard to conceive to what extent the individual 
or the class depends upon outside irritation for ac- 
tion. Just as Prof. Loeb, by means of the platinum 
wire, irritated the ova of frogs and sea-urchins to 
produce fertilization, so an outside energy, like fric- 
tion, often releases pent-up creative power. 
As showing how outer circumstances may ignite 
reserve energy: During the late war, the inmates of 
a Belgian inn, which temporarily served as a hos- 
pital, were warned that the Uhlans were approach- 
ing. Instantly the wounded tore off their bandages 124 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
and rushed out to meet the attack. Another in- 
stance : two young men of my acquaintance, authors, 
had made the journey from Jaffa to Jerusalem on 
foot. When about two miles from their destination, 
they sat down to rest, being utterly exhausted and 
footsore. However, on seeing two desperate-look- 
ing Bedouins approach them, they set off at a 
mad run, never stopping until they were within the 
gates of the ancient city (a distance of two miles). 
Yet these two men did not believe, when they sat 
down to rest, that they could walk another step. In 
the same way, suppression of the hopes of a people, 
which become a sort of reserve energy, will at a 
touch explode, as in the French and Russian revolu- 
tions. 
Where there is no keen outer stimulus impinging 
upon a locality, we have the condition obtaining in 
the Appenines, where the peasants are as badly off 
today as they were four thousand years ago. Ex- 
plained by the energy theory, it means nothing else 
than an absence of some outside irritation strong 
enough to break down the habitual and intrenched 
levels of thinking. If an outer energy can be- 
gin to operate, the native forces will respond. Agita- 
tors must, like Prometheus, bring fire from heaven 
and transfer it to the consciousness of the stupefied 
on earth. 
Small communities or nations like Ireland, Egypt, 
and even parts of New England, where there is little 
or no infusion of new blood, suffer degeneration. 
Currents of fresh blood are needed to set extraction 
and rejection acting freely. 
During the middle ages, national and racial inter- 
communication finally brought the Reformation and 
the Renaissance. Closer contact was had through 
the printing press, steam, etc., which acted as 
channels for the circulation of world energies. 
Emanating from the social set are invisible ener- 
gies, good and bad. In the pitiful struggles of 
social climbers, for example, who are afflicted with THE ENERGY THEORY 
125 
a "superior neurosis", we find a conflict of outer and 
inner-ending in pain, misery, and disillusionment. 
Just as Mendel crossed peas and produced hybrids, 
so mind may cross mind and give birth to a new 
variation. Thus, the assurance of recovery by word 
of mouth of the doctor often sets in motion upon the 
patient various constructive energies. In cases 
of masturbation, the influence of the doctor (trans- 
ference) crosses that of the patient and brings about 
a cure. 
Sometimes a ring of forces is employed by the 
physician. A young woman patient of mine com- 
plained of suffering from excessive shyness. I 
advised her to bring her closest friend when next she 
came. This friend was privately instructed in the 
use of certain methods of cure which would act in 
such a manner as finally to break up the spheroidal 
mass of the patient's shyness. Thus, the forces of 
the physician and friend were brought to react upon 
the patient's individual inner forces. 
Finally, I believe outer energy can be absorbed 
and controlled by inner thought. Healing by sug- 
gestion, telepathy, spirit communication, etc., bear 
testimony to this fact. Psycho-dynamic feats are 
additional verification. Personality, after all, is the 
ability to attract and diffuse electric energy. Phys- 
ically, the nervous system is the conductor of accu- 
mulated energy in hot storage, just as radium is said 
to be "crystallized sunlight." 
When the world becomes conscious of external, 
invisible forces, and develops a capacity for observ- 
ing them, as it is indeed essential that the world 
should, we can then enhance the worth of the indi- 
vidual by educating him in the ability to absorb. 
Then men and women will be worth to the com- 
munity not what they extract from it but what they 
give back in enriched form through radiation. Every 
inch and activity of life will hum with efficient, har- 
monious energies. Each will draw in to enrich and 126 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
give out again. In time the habit will become auto- 
matic. 
In the interaction of outer and inner forces, we 
are not entirely without will, however. That were 
to preach a disheartening philosophy. The individual 
is given, within bounds, a proper reserve of power by 
which he may select, discriminate, and reject. 
Out of such a conception of active energy must 
spring a new attitude toward man's relation to man. 
The secret of personality will then be considered as u 
balance of ingoing and outgoing energies. XVI 
PSYCHIC INFECTION 
"tlTHEN Pasteur discovered that diseases were 
' ' communicated by microbe-carriers, the world 
was incredulous. But it did not take long for the 
world to be persuaded. The result we all know. 
The science of sanitation is Pasteur's lasting monu- 
ment. Today, the direct benefits derived from the 
discovery may be counted in the tens of thousands. 
It has, besides, opened the way to many new spheres 
of investigation. Cholera, small-pox and typhus 
plagues have been reduced to the barest minimum 
by reason of following out suggestions and principles 
first laid down by Pasteur. 
The time has come for announcing a new source 
of infection as deadly as the bacterial and equally 
invisible to the naked eye: and that is, psychic in- 
fection. 
We are constantly absorbing fresh currents of 
universal energy and expelling poisonous ones. Be- 
yond the anatomic there is psychic respiration. The 
individual is a medium: a wireless sender and re- 
ceiver of psychic messages. There is therefore the 
possibility of contracting psychic ailments through 
suggestion, for example, or imitation. When we say 
that the strong mind affects the weaker, it is another 
way of saying that psychic energy given out by the 
stronger has the power to penetrate the reservoir 
of energies of another, to multiply those energies, 
and to produce new ones. The infection works both 
ways. The stronger mind may also be affected by and 
dragged down to the level of the weaker mind. The 
diffusion may be said to be similar to the diffusion 
127 128 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
of gases. Only the unique personality-a genius 
like Christ, Savanarola, or St. Francis of Assisi- 
can fight off infection and assert personal and spirit- 
ual independence. 
To a certain extent, we are all susceptible to psy- 
chic suggestion, a form of hypnosis of which we are 
not aware. Psychic infection does not become nox- 
ious until our central powers of resistance are im- 
paired and unable to throw it off. Love, sympathy, 
and success are hypnotic in a constructive way, while 
hate, revenge, and malice of any kind are destruc- 
tive. 
When rigid or oppressive, the environment itself 
may carry hypnotic power. Certain communities, in 
which Calvinism and orthodox Judaism are domin- 
ant, transmit energies to neighboring communities 
and infect these as incontrovertibly as bacteria-ex- 
posed matter. Sometimes it takes the form of a 
physical change. How shall we explain the fact that 
transplanted Jews from Russia, Spain, Germany, etc., 
take on, in the course of time, the physiognomy of 
the natives? The Jew, indeed, always retains strong 
lineaments of his race for the first and second gen- 
erations, but the third generation may show none 
of these characteristics. Wherever the Jew is 
shifted, he begins in a short time to resemble the 
people he mingles with. The Spanish Jew is typic- 
ally Spanish; so the French Jew, the Austrian Jew, 
and so on. A Jew who has lived for some time in the 
Middle West of the United States comes to look more 
of the Westerner than the Jew; the same may be 
said of the Southern Jew, the Eastern Jew, etc. The 
principle holds true in any part of the world, and 
with almost all peoples. Numbers seem, for a time, 
to exercise a controlling power over their environ- 
ment. But finally the external forces may prove 
greater than the internal. 
In this chapter, however, we are more concerned 
with the pathological aspect of psychic infection. It 
is curious to note that physicians themselves are PSYCHIC INFECTION 
129 
not immune to the radiation of their neurotic 
patients. The superintendents of lunatic asylums 
have been known to commit suicide from mere sug- 
gestion. Apparently they cannot shake off infec- 
tion, even though forewarned. Likewise, teachers 
of under-grade and feeble-minded children absorb 
some of the mass-current of their pupils. Gloom is 
of course infectious. And patriotism as well as mob 
spirit is as infectious during war as typhoid. 
Many are the cases which might be cited to show 
that the invisible may be as fatal as-perhaps more 
than-the visible. Nuclei of poisonous energies can 
infect any sensitive medium within a radius of in- 
fluence, and multiply as rapidly as the bacillus 
cholerae. 
One of two business partners I knew well com- 
plained that he could not sleep because of a choking 
sensation and aches in the back of his head. His 
history, when examined, was unusually good. And I 
could find nothing wrong with his present condition. 
When his dreams were analyzed, however, they all 
revealed and pointed to a concern about his business. 
I finally learned that his partner had been a rival 
for the hand of his wife. For a number of years, 
a systematic plan was under way with the object of 
forcing him out of business by way of secret revenge. 
My patient felt these injuries but never realized 
their source. Treachery had reacted in tangible 
waves upon his consciousness. 
Another case comes to mind of a prominent jour- 
nalist who was wholly attached to his mistress. 
When the woman contracted tuberculosis, he tender- 
ly nursed her. Despite kisses and embraces which 
they continually exchanged, he did not contract the 
disease. After her death he was haunted so power- 
fully by the memory of her that for a time he 
thought, spoke, and acted like her, until he collapsed. 
Her personality had subdued his own. 
Old age suffering loss of vitality is attracted to 130 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
youth because of the revitalizing power of young 
blood. Mothers like their sons and daughters as 
much out of conscious affection as out of uncon- 
scious attraction to youth. In certain parts of 
Europe, it is said on good authority, rich, de- 
crepit old men, eager to recover their lost vitality, 
are advised to sleep in the same bed with robust 
women; for in this way, without physical union, 
psychic absorption and expulsion may take place. 
In the Bible (Kings i., 4) advice of a similar nature 
is given. Stage-managers, school-teachers, and all 
those who have the custody of the young, are ob- 
served to retain their springtime of life by reason 
of continual absorption of the psychical energies 
given off by their youthful wards. 
The explanation of this power of psychic trans- 
mission lies in the theory that the psychic possesses 
quality as well as quantity. It not only has density, 
but color. There is a "tonation" of energy-a qual- 
ity as in silk. Attempts to determine this quality 
have been ineffectual. They are evident (the tona- 
tions) only by their manifestations in effects, just 
as electricity is evident only when converted into 
light, heat, or power. 
The easiest expression of psychic quality is seen 
in the play of the emotions. The story is told of a 
woman who was gripped for a few moments by an 
intense passion of anger. The child at her breast 
died within an hour, poisoned by the mother's milk. 
In other cases, convulsions have resulted. 
The chemical analysis of the saliva and perspira- 
tion of men in a rage has shown them to contain a 
poison. The perspiration of criminals has been tinc- 
tured with selenic acid and has turned pink. The 
blood of embittered, currish individuals, when trans- 
fused into the veins of another, will kill. According 
to psychic "modal quality," blood composition is now 
divided into four distinct elements. 
Vomiting, jaundice, paroxysm, and apoplexy are PSYCHIC INFECTION 
131 
caused by corresponding emotions. The whole study 
of endocrinology (ductless glands) points to the con- 
clusion that emotions vitally affect these glands, and 
vice versa. As Professor MacDonald of Harvard 
said very recently in addressing the American Psy- 
chiatric Association: "If we are to make satisfactory 
progress in psychological medicine, we still need, it 
seems to me, to recognize fully and frankly the 
claim of functional disorder to a place of equal im- 
portance and reality with the organic or structural 
disorders ... it is through mental influences that 
functional disorders are brought about." 
Interesting experiments were performed by Prof. 
Cannon in Harvard University not so long ago. He 
put cats into cages and got dogs to bark at them and 
worry them. He then examined the blood of the cats 
and found the adrenals had increased their secretion, 
the blood pressure had mounted, glycogen was re- 
leased, and energy supplied to the muscles for ward- 
ing off danger. It has been discovered that fear 
itself is a poison which begets other poisons. 
Crowds absorb and exude mass energies. Here, 
the aggregate may be greater, mathematically, than 
the sum of the parts. The explanation of group 
psychology may often be sought in psychic infection, 
through the contact of many auras (emanations). 
Mass infection is noted also in hospitals, schools, 
and prisons. Alterness or apathy is infectious in 
the class-room or lecture-hall. An evil example 
spreads readily and perhaps more quickly than a 
good one, because, as Virgil says, the road to 
Avernus is easy. In the prison the callous nature of 
the tougher prisoners is soon carried over to the 
more sensitive. One might recall here the gate- 
shaking scence in Galsworthy's "Justice." Of the 
countless atrocities perpetrated by mobs, who are 
carried away by gusts of mass-energies, I need not 
speak. Revolutions spread from country to country 
by a similar agency. Witness the recent, almost 
simultaneous world convulsion. 132 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
Knowing the possibilities of good and evil, what 
practical application shall we make of this knowl- 
edge ? Can we direct it for better and higher ends ? 
Can we improve the quality of the individual who 
suffers from psychic pestilence? 
These many questions already suggest their own 
answers. Warning against the contagion of imita- 
tion or the subtle presence of poisonous energies will 
be the first step toward producing a higher type of 
being. Mental and moral slavery will be shown up 
and rejected. A new attitude toward morals and 
social responsibility will develop. We shall realize 
that only what adds vitality to the sum of human 
happiness is worthy of absorption. 
In the family, there is an interplay of diverging 
and converging energies. These invisible forces are 
not yet understood. It is a wise master who knows 
how to direct these interacting cross currents. 
To the social body, it means that society can never 
be sound until the poisonous sources in life are 
cleaned up, sublimated, or totally destroyed. Chil- 
dren and adults cannot live in an atmosphere of 
psychic typhus or cholera. The criminal, the idiot, 
the insane, the malformed, the stricken, must be 
prevented from coming into the world, or-if that 
be impossible-prevented from infecting the normal 
and the healthy. As one germ can, in time, destroy 
a city, so one psychic "microbe," if allowed to mul- 
tiply, may cripple or destroy the high quality of a 
nation. 
Once the truth of psychic infection becomes evi- 
dent, psychic sanitation as a new science and sys- 
tem must follow. XVII 
THE CENTRE OF PERFECTION 
IMBEDDED in the protoplasm of the cell is an up- 
1 ward, irrepressible, climbing urge. Bergson has 
called it the "elan vital." Like a purifying breeze, 
the vital urge sweeps through the windings of evolu- 
tion, from worm to man. It is never-ceasing and un- 
dying, pushing up through all forms to create higher 
ones. Progress is its symbol. 
The force that palpitates through the chain of 
life, I call the centre of perfection. It rests at the 
heart of life, controls, directs, urges, and infuses 
creation with unity, purpose, ideals. 
By the accumulation of tiny psychic jets, thrown 
off after they have been improved by numberless 
generations, the centre has grown more vital. By 
elevating the individual, it tends to elevate the race. 
It is the animating principle of Universal Intelli- 
gence, often referred to as God. 
Within its bosom, the centre of perfection holds 
the secret of life. It is responsible for the strivings 
of poets, painters, scientists, and truth-seekers of 
whatever nature. It is stronger than life itself and 
has the power to go beyond it. It is the force which 
makes men live through the most harassing tribu- 
lations, "bloodied but unbowed." It is unconquer- 
able, though all else be conquerable. 
The subconscious in man is directed by the centre 
of perfection. It comes to our aid in times of stress 
and consoles us in the darkest hour. That is why 
we do not go under when difficulties pursue us, but 
133 134 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
fight to the last. And suicides themselves fight to 
the end. No man throws his life away; and man only 
then is ready to yield up his life for a cause when he 
believes the cause may, through his sacrifice, help 
this centre of perfection to an earlier fulfilment. 
The urge of self-sacrifice may be due to irradiations 
out of this centre of perfection in man, which is 
always jealous of its own good. The elan vital is 
ruthless, if you will, toward the individual when the 
individual happens to stand in its way. It drives 
onward, impelled by its original impetus, like life 
itself. 
The centre has resources of recovery and repair, 
for which end it can summon reserve energies. One 
of its major functions is to relieve the stress of 
bodily pain. The heart may be softened, rigor re- 
laxed, compromise admitted, and the tedium of 
things mitigated under the direct control of the per- 
fection urge. 
The meanest individual in the woild may feel the 
power of perfection. It relates him directly to life. 
It forever strives to overcome the corrupting influ- 
ences that seek to inundate him, very much like 
the battle which takes place between the red and 
white corpuscles in the climax of any disease. As 
an illustration of the power of this centre of per- 
fection : I know the instance of a child, the youngest 
in a family of ten, who was continually ridiculed 
for being a weakling. Because of this, his centre 
of perfection was aroused. By a series of exercises, 
and with the help of a strong will power, he suc- 
ceeded in becoming the strongest member of the 
family, as well as the most prominent. Theodore 
Roosevelt is a case in point; Napoleon is another. 
Under stress, desire to rival, to "show off," one may 
develop superior psychic powers. The same results 
may not always follow, even when equal effort is ap- 
plied. Certain powers must be potential in the per- 
son before they can be realized in actuality. 
In dreams, the centre of perfection shows itself THE CENTRE OF INFECTION 
135 
unmistakably as the equalizing agent, and operates 
as definitely between the two psychic systems (as 
explained by Freud) as the law of gravitation in the 
material world. It is masked as the Censor. 
In every act the centre, as representing the cosmic 
urge, operates. Its whisperings are heard unmis- 
takably in intuition. Thus, as units of a mass, as 
carriers of our individual centres of perfection, we 
all contribute power and beauty to the race, uncon- 
sciously preparing the better world of tomorrow. 
In crowds, the centre of perfection can almost be 
felt. Mass morality seeks a common level of racial 
feeling, and becomes a combination of individual 
centres of perfection. World events react upon the 
perfection centres of nations; for even despair 
and disillusionment are utilized by the racial centre 
of perfection for the improvement of the world. 
The centre of perfection is the consummate purpose 
running through all things, surmounting all things. 
Now, a neurosis is an opposition to the activities 
of the centre of perfection. The life process, which 
is like an irreversible wheel, drives us ever onward, 
but the neurotic tends toward the past, toward 
immobility, resisting the forward, outward, and up- 
ward urges. At bottom there is always in him the 
wish to die, to be dead, to escape from the demands 
of life, to give up. The neurotic plainly suffers from 
a retard of the life-urge, the centre of perfection. 
And it is this which psychoanalysis attempts to cure. 
All complexes, frustrated libidos, repressions, para- 
noias, etc., are due to a maladjustment of the mental- 
ity of the individual to the demands of life in society. 
Psychoanalysis seeks to supply the proper adjust- 
ment. Point out to a man his responsibilities 
toward life, and persuade him of his duty to re- 
assume them, and you make him approach life once 
more. The neurotic evades responsibilities to escape 
into his fiction, into his world of unrealities, where 
he develops his "shut-in" personality. That is why 
visionaries and prophets are so often of the cata- 136 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
leptic type; they have not accepted "life," and live in 
a realm of their own. 
Civilization is a process of neutralizing or sub- 
limating the unsocial and evil impulses of man- 
kind, rather than of ministering to an expression 
thereof. Now, it is unquestionable that the sub- 
limation of hurtful instincts rebounds to the benefit 
of society; but sublimation, at best, is an imperfect 
fulfilment-it does not "deliver up" the undesirable 
impulses, root and all. The cure, it seems, is ex- 
pression. Repression of personal animosities or their 
sublimation might keep two individuals foes all their 
lives. A good fight between them might make them 
friends. Slavery was cured by selling in the open 
market. Monarchy by its absolutism was doomed; 
serfdom, by its manifest injustice and inhumanness. 
For the same reason do hypocritical institutions con- 
tinue to exist and thrive-because the evil they are 
and do is evident, but hidden and in a manner com- 
pensated for. A disciplined repression or restraint, 
however, is also serviceable, for by weakening the in- 
sistence of the evil urge, it may finally suppress it 
to such an extent that even the subconscious will 
not be troubled by it. 
Repressions, on the whole, be they of life-adminis- 
tering instincts or the contrary, are harmful, be- 
cause thereby an outward-striving urge is forced 
back to its sources. Life cannot recall an expression; 
but that is just what a repression tries to do with 
life. Hence, the unbalancing, the maladjustment, 
the disruption of the machinery. Life has to live- 
that is to say, life has to go on. But repressions try 
to force life to reverse itself, to turn tail. That is 
why repressions are violations of the fundamental 
principle of the cosmos, which is to pioneer forever 
through the archways of a tomorrow. XVIII 
THE CIRCLE OF LIFE 
TIFE is a series of changes pendulating between 
■L* the atom and the electron. The power within 
the atom is the electron. By movement and stimuli, 
matter releases energy. The atom is always break- 
ing up into its components-electrons. As the freed 
energy evaporates, it impinges upon the matter out 
of which it came and changes its composition. In 
turn a new energy is born which returns and reacts 
upon the matter that gave it birth. The cycle is 
perpetual. 
The electric dynamo creates electricity, but goes 
no further. In the living body, energy is perpetually 
recreating and modifying the machine itself. There 
is an unceasing backward and forward flow. The three 
steps are (1) exudation, (2) absorption, and (3) 
regeneration. 
In other words, from the physical springs the 
psychical, which returns again to the physical. 
Carried far enough any psychic impulse re-enters 
the physical circle to transform the initial impulse. 
The psychic is thought, felt, and expressed in phys- 
ical images. In fact, only the physical is capable of 
being its symbol. 
This property of perpetual change is being sensed 
for the first time. When two electrons combine, 
they may produce a third-a new energy; just as 
two chemical elements react upon each other to make 
a third combination. 
When traced back to its source, the nucleus of the 
life-chain is cosmic, elemental, and is symbolized by 
the thread of light in the Crookes tube reflected from 
the cathode or negative electrode. 
137 138 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
Aristotle reduced the world to four dead elements: 
fire, air, earth, water. All sciences are concerned 
with these four properties. Knowledge today rec- 
ognizes them under the divisions of physics, physi- 
ology, psychology, and philosophy. We should begin 
with philosophy, since this subject goes back to the 
parent of all attempts at understanding, and unites 
all branches of learning. We should then go to psy- 
chology, and from psychology to physiology, and 
from physiology to physics. For, in the worm, before 
anything like the complex physiology of our 
present organs was ever developed, the psychic was 
already consciously striving to press ahead. The 
study of the process, however, has been the other 
way around. Out of force comes matter-and not 
force out of matter. 
Malpighi, in his theory of preformation, stated 
that when a chicken is born, all the eggs out of 
which future chickens are to be hatched are already 
present in potentiality. Likewise, human beings 
are born with the seeds in them of all their future 
generations. 1920 A.D. existed in potentiality in 1924 
B.C., and 2124 A.D. is now matrix within us. 
(Ouspensky would have it that the past and the 
future exist coevally with the present-that time is 
only an extension of space, the fourth dimension.) 
Dr. Jellffe divides the psychic life into four stages 
of growth. (1) The archaic: this comprises the en- 
tire social inheritance up to birth; (2) the autoero- 
tic: the first seven years of the child's life, in which 
the primitive man is recapitulated; (3) the nar- 
cisstic: the period of intense self-worship, which 
merges into the social; this comprises primitive man 
up to the beginning of civilization; (4) the social: 
this stratum is building; it is very recent and is sym- 
bolized by the death of self, as in Christianity. 
I would add, as a fifth, the cosmic now being 
glimpsed. Out of the depths of the unknown, on 
which we have thrown our flashlights day and night, 
new psychic forces are springing into being. New THE CIRCLE OF LIFE 
139 
senses are accordingly coming into play to catch 
these forces. From the mental matrix has come the 
psychic. After the psychic, the spiritual cosmic: 
this is the next link in the evolution of the life-force. 
Spiritualism is the universal stratum underlying all 
life-energies. 
More and more will science break away from the 
hard and fast rule-of-thumb calculation and extend 
its researches into the field of the psychic. It will 
inquire again, as the ancient philosophers never 
tired of doing, into the why and wherefore, the 
causes and sources and origins of things. There has 
been too much corner-trifling in science. We ought 
to prepare ourselves now for a complete survey, a 
four-dimensional contemplation. We must envisage 
life as a whole, and attempt the solution of some of 
the unexplored varieties. Else man's view of him- 
self will never rise beyond a patch-quilt of isolated, 
petty theorizings as unrelated as marbles in a hat. 
It is my conviction that the psychic powers within 
us, developing the psychic super-senses, will yet help 
us to see and know what is actually taking place in 
other worlds. I may say that I have developed my 
own psychic senses to such a point that I already, 
in my semi-conscious states, see beyond the power 
of physical mind or eye. There is no delusion about 
this super-vision; I have time and again veri- 
fied it. Some years ago when I first gave heed to 
the still small voice within and concentrated on the 
area around the star Sirius, I began to see rivers 
and forests such as I never beheld before; later I 
saw canals, houses, bridges, architecture-all of an 
amazing and wellnigh indescribable grandeur. Then 
I beheld the animals and the inhabitants themselves. 
Now these visions of mine were not and are not 
figments of the imagination. Those marvelous 
thoroughfares, for instance, that I behold in my 
semi-conscious state, are as real as if, returning home 
from Paris, I should dream about it. I have seen 140 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
things too accurately and minutely to be mistaken. 
I believe, indeed, that thousands of us have the 
beginnings of similar psychic vision prompting us 
from within. I believe if enough of us spoke of these 
things, and notes were compared, we might begin 
to put the phenomena on something like a scientific 
basis, just as in the case of psychical research. I 
believe that the visionary powers of the soul are a 
millionfold greater than the dynamic powers of the 
soul; and the latter are wonderful, as we all know. 
It was, in fact, when I began to look into my own 
dreams, my own visions, my own prophetic glimpses 
into the hidden side of things, that this theory of 
psycho-cosmology grew upon me. I could not at first 
understand how it was possible for me to see beyond 
time and space. Now it is clear. Now I understand. 
And I shall conclude this chapter by saying that 
my theory of psycho-cosmology may give us a 
clue to some of the mysteries of the world- 
like the sought-for fourth dimension, or the further 
disintegration of the electron-that may release us 
all from the universal darkness around us. XIX 
PSYCHICS AND PHYSICS 
pECHNER, a German scientist-philosopher, de- 
1 clared that plants have a soul and physics has a 
psychology. It has indeed always been my belief 
that life inheres not only in the organic, but also in 
the inorganic. What is considered as dead material 
is but the garment of living matter. At one time 
coal was live wood, as coral reefs are the accretions 
of myriads of polyps. It is believed that oil contains 
centrillions of micro-organisms which are imbedded 
in the substrata of the earth, where they formerly 
mixed with chemicals. The crust of the earth, in 
fact, is composed of organic matter undergoing per- 
petual change. 
The two kingdoms, however, differ in one respect; 
whereas the organic continues the Cosmic Intelli- 
gence which escapes from matter as vapor rising 
from the sea, and in turn recreates it into new forms 
of energy, the inorganic has no comparable psycho- 
dynamic force. Yet it is probable that life originally 
stemmed from the sea of non-living matter. In 
fact, all life comes from one divine source and mani- 
fests successively through the mineral, vegetable, 
animal, and human evolutions, eventually returning 
to the source whence it originated. The differ- 
ence in consciousness between the different stages 
of our evolution is merely a difference in fineness of 
matter and rapidity of vibration. 
Peradventure, the laws of matter may help us to 
discover the laws of the psychic. Sir Oliver Lodge 
has expressed the creed of the future scientist in 
these words: "I am one of those who think that the 
141 142 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
methods of science are not so limited in their scope 
as has been thought, that they can be applied much 
more widely, and that the psychic region can be 
studied and brought under law also." 
Consider, if you will, the experiment of a drop 
of water falling upon a heated iron plate. Instantly 
you will notice the liquid curl up into a sphere. In 
some similar way thoughts that enter the mind may 
concentrate in spheroidal masses, particularly in the 
case of obsessions. Atomic energy locked up in the 
atom corresponds to thought energy in the brain- 
cell. 
When water is placed in a paper receptacle and 
put over a fire, the water will draw the heat away 
from the surface of the cup. The heat travels up- 
ward and about. This is known as the principle 
of conduction and convection. May not a similar 
action take place when personalities meet? The 
stronger force compels the weaker to circulate to- 
ward and beyond it. The laws of heat and cold, 
likewise, explain the psychic. Psychic currents 
will mingle until a median point is reached. People 
who associate continually-as married folk- 
illustrate the operation of this law. Life partners 
take on the characteristics of each other-and some- 
times even physical traits. 
To carry the analogy still further, our psychic 
energies are as water, ice, or steam. There are the 
neutrals or ice-natures, whose energies are frozen, 
who cannot mix or melt, who never put out tenta- 
cles, who are not ambitious or aggressive. With the 
fire of imagination, the energy turns into steam in 
the mercurial nature, bubbling and effervescing so 
actively as to seem almost abnormal. The average 
nature runs, as water, along an even tenor. 
Maladies such as paranoia represent a tendency 
of the steam to throw aside an obstruction, where- 
as a dementia praecox is simply the freezing in of 
energy. In a manner of speaking, the solid state 
corresponds to the physical, the fluid to the physio- PSYCHICS AND PHYSICS 
143 
logical, and vapor to the psychic. To say that every 
law in the physical world can be shown to have its 
correspondence in the psychic is not half as fantas- 
tic as it may sound. 
It is within the last century that the theory of 
radio-activity has upset the established laws of 
physics and chemistry. Molecular energy, once 
considered the "dernier cri," has given way to the 
atomic theory recently made popular by Sir Oliver 
Lodge. The discovery of atomic energy has an inter- 
esting history. 
Some years ago it was noted that heavy sub- 
stances such as radium constantly fire off projectiles 
at a prodigious rate and with tremendous violence. 
It is now calculated that the energy in one gram of 
radium equals that which six thousand million 
pounds of coal produce in burning. This led to the 
belief that, by applying stimuli to nearly all atoms 
of matter, particles would fly off at high speed 
and at the same time release energy. 
The nature of the atom leads logically to this 
view. Atoms are the small, invisible particles of which 
all matter is composed. The atom is made up of 
very much smaller units called electrons. These 
revolve about the nucleus in the centre of the 
atom like the planets around the sun. The 
motion of the electrons gives off atomic energy. It 
differs widely from steam, chemical, or muscular 
energy in that it acts between the atoms. It is con- 
fined within the atom, and when it escapes destroys 
the atom itself. 
"A few ounces of metal," says Sir Oliver Lodge, 
"have an atomic energy equal to the energy pro- 
duced by one thousand tons of coal." The problem 
of the future is to control and manipulate this energy 
after release. 
From the inorganic there is but one step to the 
organic. Inasmuch as the organic reduces itself, 
in the final analysis, to the cell, which corresponds to 
the electron, I contend that a form of atomic energy 144 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
issues from living flesh. In the atom it is locked up. 
From living matter it is constantly escaping. Radio- 
active currents stream off at high speed, which in 
some ways resemble the alpha, beta, and gamma 
rays of radium. The form in which we most easily 
recognize psychic energy is the manifestation of 
intelligence. The affinity is unmistakable. The 
human body is radium plus, since it can create and 
re-create energies. 
I was recently startled to read a confirmation of 
this theory. Dr. Imoda, in the "Annals of Psychical 
Science" (1908), says: "The radiation of radium, the 
cathodic radiations of the Crookes tube, and the 
mediumistic radiations are fundamentally the same." 
Palladino, the medium, who was carefully and 
seriously studied abroad, and who is still regarded 
by eminent European scientists as genuine, several 
times succeeded in discharging an electroscope with- 
out contact. 
Geologists have concluded that radium is an in- 
tegral part of the earth. If a crust of earth fifty 
miles thick contained the same amount of radium 
as the representative samples of rocks one of them 
examined, the heat generated by the radium would 
suffice to account for all the internal heat lost by the 
earth. Nor is radio-creation confined to radium. 
As bits of geologic dust, one force unites man, 
animals, plants, and rocks. Is it going too far to 
say that this force is a radial energy ? 
For a century or more mystics have divined the 
presence of radial energy surrounding the human 
body and have called it "the aura." In 1865 Samuel 
B. Brittan, M.D., wrote: "Whenever this refined aura 
is sent out from an animal or man to another in- 
dividual of the same or distinct species, the creature 
to which it is directed may be influenced to a de- 
gree of susceptibility in the subject." 
It has been the habit of science to scoff at the 
invisible. But once the senses are impressed, the 
scoff readily enough turns into a nod. Within recent PSYCHICS AND PHYSICS 
145 
years, the aura has been caught by the camera and 
tested by chemical salts of selenium. Recently, 
Dr. Kilner, electrician at St. Thomas' Hospital, 
London, invented chemical slides or "screens" which 
enable anyone to see the aura. Between two thin 
glass slides is placed a fluid called dicyanin, which 
is said to render the eye sensitive to vibrations not 
ordinarily caught. Surveyed through these glasses 
or glass slides (in an almost darkened room against 
a black background) the aura becomes visible in 
three layers. The outer aura extends from ten to 
twelve inches in a man, and to as much as eighteen 
inches in a woman. It is oval or egg-shaped. 
The aura of the human personality (for plants 
have auras too) is a medium of conduction. We 
absorb and exhale energies through the path of the 
aura, which is a psychic, vaporous emanation par- 
taking of the qualities of mind and body. It may be 
likened to an electrical discharge. Our passions, 
ideas, and health show colors as varied as the rain- 
bow. Intelligence may circulate, even outside of it. 
One of the aims of psychic research is to investigate 
the possibility of detached intelligence; that is, 
intelligence existing apart from the human brain. 
There can be little doubt that eventually science 
will discover that the electron is at bottom not only 
inorganic matter but living matter as well, and that 
therefore one force unites physics and psychics. XX 
BEYOND 
'T'HE study of the abnormal leads us either to the 
1 normal or forward to the supernormal. We shall 
take a quick plunge into the beyond in the hope that 
further light may be thrown upon the phenomena 
of the energy theory already propounded. The 
supernormal completes and supplements the norma) 
and abnormal. 
Slowly, under the repeated hammerings of in- 
vestigators, the barriers of prejudice and skepticism 
against the world beyond the ordinary senses have 
been struck down. Bergson fired the first shots and 
now a veritable cannonading at full blast is on. 
Mysticism is becoming scientific. It observes, 
records, and infers. In the realm of the psychic, 
since we cannot create the conditions for experimen- 
tation, as in physics or in chemistry, the evidence 
is necessarily historic-to be measured by the rule 
of the historian, compiler, statistician. Data are 
rapidly accumulating and assuming form. Out of 
the welter of contradictory and confusing reports, 
truths of importance will undoubtedly emerge. The 
science of the unknown is in its infancy. 
We are coming to recognize new obligations. As 
F. C. S. Schiller, a prominent philosopher, said some 
years ago in an address: "There is another and a 
truer philosophy which, by way of contrast with the 
philosophy of the owl, we may call that of the lark. 
It conceives the duty of philosophy to be not a priori 
speculation and ex post facto reflection merely, but 
the preliminary exploration which heralds man's 
conquest of new realms of knowledge." 
146 BEYOND 
147 
I presume that today, more than ever before, the 
proper study of mankind is man. The investigation 
of the human personality is to the fore. W. F. 
Barrett eloquently puts the case for a wider con- 
ception of personality in these words: "Human 
personality embraces a far larger scope than science 
has hitherto recognized. It partakes of a twofold 
life-on one side a self-consciousness which is 
weakened to time and space, sense and outward 
things; and on the other side a deeper, slumbering 
but potential consciousness, the record of every un- 
heeded past impression possessing higher receptive 
and perceptive powers than our normal self-con- 
sciousness ; a self that, I believe, links our individual 
life to the ocean of life, and to the source of all life." 
Of the six recognized aims of psychical research, 
the first bears upon my theory of energy: the alleged 
action of mind upon mind, independent of the rec- 
ognized channels of sense. 
Can thought live outside of the brain ? Numerous 
happenings common to many of us seem to point to 
the conclusion that mind can act "independent of 
the material brain, and therefore in all probability 
survive it." Mind outside of the body may even 
possess perception and consciousness. The subject 
of dissociated thought has been extensively treated 
in theosophical as well as spiritistic literature, and 
is approaching a stage where scientific verification 
seems not far off. Each thought, as it is created, is 
known to go out into the ether as much alive and 
definite in form as anything we touch or see. These 
forms in some instances have been photographed. 
The thought swiftly flies from, or is projected by, 
its creator toward another, whose consciousness 
it seeks immediately to enter. If the individual to 
whom the thought has been directed, has anything 
within his consciousness akin thereto, the thought 
will break through the aura and enter; if 
the individual has not, then the thought returns to 
its creator intensified. Thus, a thought of hate sent 148 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
to one in whom there is no hate returns to its sender 
and increases his hatred. I would refer my readers 
here to the work called "Thought-Forms" by Annie 
Besant and C. W. Leadbeater. Annie Besant, indeed, 
in her book called "Life After Death" approximates 
somewhat to my theory of the existence of sub- 
conscious senses. She says, somewhere: "We all 
have bodies of that finer matter, and in those bodies 
the senses whereby these bodies may also be seen; 
and if that line be followed and practised, then, 
while wide awake to the things of this world, we 
may examine also the things of the world that we 
call the other side of death." 
Sir Oliver Lodge has lately been engaged in 
attempting to prove that there is a spiritual world 
wherein active intelligences with astral bodies exist 
and operate. As I glimpse it, the personal units of 
energy spring out of the All-conscious and return in 
modified form to the All-conscious. Occasionally 
the connection between the source and life itself is 
that of root and stem. A channel is left open and 
clear so that energies may flow either into life or 
away from it-toward what we call death. As there 
are those who are peculiarly sensitive to waves of 
light, there are those sensitive to psychic influences. 
Communication between living and dead and even 
among the dead seems to be possible to these 
"mediums." To such, as to the celebrated Mrs. 
Piper, disembodied energies are almost tangible. 
Perhaps, to these, certain sparks in the infinite void 
reveal themselves as evidence of the cosmic urge. 
As Annie Besant says: "A person, being a living, 
spiritual intelligence, need not wait to know what is 
on the other side until death strikes away his body 
and releases him from the present house of the 
physical frame. This body of ours is meant to be a 
dwelling, but not a prison, and the key of it should 
be in our own hands and not only in the hands of 
death." Death, indeed, is a stage in evolution. Only 
consciousness passes away. The subconsciousness is BEYOND 
149 
a river that flows forever. Immortality is already 
achieved in the hidden life of the psychic. And the 
development of this hidden life, the projection of it 
into the fore-conscious more and more, may yet 
achieve for us definite incontrovertible evidence of 
the actuality of personal immortality. 
3 he Christian ideal that we live for happiness in 
the next world, translated into scientific terms, 
means that the sum total of transmitted traits, 
characteristics and qualities, working their way 
through superior and constantly evolving matter, all 
tend to create the future perfect race. There can be 
no other meaning. 
Now, in the estimation of materialists, all phen- 
omena are explicable by the ultimate properties of 
matter. It is held that these properties, moreover, 
are eternal and underived-existing, therefore, as 
ultimate facts which explain everything, while re- 
maining themselves unexplained. According to this 
view, not only is consciousness the product of a 
peculiar organization of matter, but it cannot sur- 
vive the disorganization of the material body with 
which it is associated. In other words, every living 
person is an organized whole and consciousness is 
something which pertains to this organized whole, 
as music belongs to the harp that is entire; but when 
the harp is broken it is silent. So, when the organ- 
ized whole of personality falls to pieces, conscious- 
ness ceases forever. 
Psychoanalysis, indeed, teaches that conscious- 
ness is an entity which may have its being and 
develop only in the matter where it resides; but that 
the subconsciousness, with its still undeveloped 
tracts, its own set of senses, its perfection impulses, 
etc., may not only be in touch with the immaterial 
world, but operate in an immaterial world. I do not 
believe, personally, in the persistence of conscious- 
ness after the stage called death; nor do I believe in 
the persistence of personality. I do believe, how- 
ever, that the streams we have freed within us of 150 
PSYCHOANALYSIS 
the subconscious ocean will flow endlessly onward. 
Consciousness is part of time and space-part of the 
world we must deal with. The psyche, the essential 
soul within us, on the other hand, is a tenant in the 
house of life. When the house decays or falls to 
ruin or is blasted, then the tenant finds itself a new 
house to thrive in. 
Here, before I close, I want to digress for a few 
moments to make one or two general observations. 
These will lead us to a final consideration of my 
hypothesis. 
Humanity, in the course of its comparatively 
brief history, has endured from the hands of science 
three great outrages against its naive self-love. The 
first was when Copernicus, and after him Galileo, 
established the fact that the earth was not the 
centre of the universe, but only a tiny speck in a sys- 
tem of inconceivable magnitude. The second was 
when Darwin robbed us of our "special creation" 
superiority and rebuked us with our animal descent. 
The third was when recent psychologic research and 
analysis revealed to man that the "I," the "Ego," 
was not even master in its own house, let alone 
being master of the universe; that the "I", in fact, 
was slave to a thousand and one forces, within and 
without, which tyrannized over it. Now, psycho- 
cosmology or beyond psychoanalysis, as I see the 
possibilities of its application, has come to put man 
back on his ancient pedestal as the centre of the 
universe. While the earth, it is true, is not the hub 
of the cosmos, and man not a "special creation," and 
the ego is not master in its own house, yet the mind 
of man, coming at first microscopically as a part of 
creation, developing through infinite gradations, 
fighting its way through matter continuously, 
creating for itself a grander and grander place in the 
human organism, and finally entering into its present 
heritage-this mind, I say, has the power yet to 
lift man out of the chains of his own past, and 
relate him back again to the invisible psychic world, BEYOND 
151 
which is his real source and ultimate goal. 
Man need not be master of his own house-the 
material house, the house of the conscious senses, 
the house of negative matter. But man is, or may 
become, master of a greater house-the house 
spiritual, the house of the invisible, positive matter, 
the house of the subconscious supersenses, the house 
that may endure forever. The infinite powers with- 
in us, always more or less unguessed at, but always 
surging up to remind us of a formidable divinity 
that is ours, greater yet than that of any god ever 
conceived of-these infinite powers, I say, are today 
being dragged out of their millions of years of sub- 
merged existence into the light of conscious life. 
The psychic forces of ages and ages drive us 
toward fulfilment (for the centre of perfection 
never rests). They strive to reunite us to the in- 
finite, just as the scattered nuclei in the heavens 
seek again union with the universal tide whence 
they sprang. We are moving from cosmic origins 
to cosmic finalities, never repeating ourselves, never 
retreating, never faltering for long, and always 
arriving at a more intimate knowledge of our 
souls. It is in us to have the stars for the asking; 
it is in us to measure up to the godhead we have 
projected into the void-symbols of our unconfessed 
self-adoration and self-appraisement! It is in us to 
become prophets and seers, knowing as intimately 
the doings, on other spheres as in our own house- 
holds. 
Psycho-cosmology (Beyond-psychoanalysis) will 
help us, I am convinced, to rediscover our divinity 
as no other science has or may. It is indeed the key 
to our final self-revelation. For the mind is, after 
all, the master of the universe, and through a com- 
prehension of the mind, through the complete un- 
folding of the soul within us, we shall indeed go 
riding through the universe in that golden chariot 
of stars of which the poets sing. 
At least, this is the faith of my science. 152 
PSYCHOANALYSTS 
Special Definitions 
anxiety hysteria: a form of nervous disease asso- 
ciated with morbid fears. 
compulsion: an overpowering impulse to commit 
an act one does not will. 
delusion: a false belief without logical basis, 
dementia: a feebleness of mind due to the decay of 
mental powers; a form of insanity. 
dementia praecox: an extreme form of "shut-in 
personality," in which the patient shows anti- 
social tendencies; a form of insanity. 
epilepsy: a chronic nervous disorder which shows 
itself in attacks of unconsciousness or convulsions, 
or both. 
exhibitionism: gratification obtained by exposure 
of the body or the genitals; showing off. 
extroversion: the development of interest in life, 
electra complex: the overattachment of daughter 
to father, with hostility to the mother. 
hallucination: a perception of something which 
does not exist. 
homosexuality: the abnormal deviation of the sex 
instinct toward the same sex. 
hypnosis: (hypnotism) a condition in which the 
patient is asleep and subject to suggestion. 
hysteria: a disorder of the will. "A state in which 
ideas control the body and produce changes in its 
function." 
illusion: a sensory impression which misrepresents 
the true nature of the object perceived. 
inhibition: obstruction to an inclination. 
introspection: the act of looking within for the 
purpose of observing and analyzing one's own 
thoughts. 
introversion: the withdrawal of interest from life 
and a turning within one's self. SPECIAL DEFINITIONS 
153 
kleptomania: an irresistible impulse to steal with- 
out needing the thing stolen. 
libido: "the sum total of creative energies" (Jung), 
mania: a form of mental unsoundness; an un- 
governable desire. 
metabolism: the physiological changes of upbuild- 
ing and destruction of cells in the body. 
neurasthenia: a condition of nervous exhaustion 
apparently due to overdrafts upon the supply of 
nervous energy. 
neurosis: a functional nervous disorder in which 
the symptoms do not arise from organic changes; 
a state of tension or irritability; a disease of the 
subconscious mind. 
obsession: a fixed idea that tends to find expression 
in irrational conduct. 
Oedipus complex: the overattachment of son to 
mother with hostility to the father. (See "Oedipus 
Rex"-Sophocles.) 
onanism: self-gratification (pollution). 
paranoia: delusional insanity. 
pathology: the science that deals with the causes 
of disease and the changes produced by disease 
in the body. 
phallic: pertaining to the phallus or male sex organ 
as a symbol of the generative power of nature. 
phobia: an exaggerated fear. 
prophylaxis: the prevention of disease, 
psychosis: a disease of the mind, 
psychotherapy: the science of treating bodily ills 
through the mind. 
re-education: "teaching the patient what he has, 
what he has not, what he seems to have, what he 
can do, what he cannot do and what he simply 
believes he cannot do." 
regression: the tendency to return to the original 
percept. 154 
PSYCHOANALYSTS 
repression: neutralizing or putting out of action 
unwelcome or unpleasant thoughts by pushing 
them into the subconscious. 
resistance: interposing a hostile feeling when on 
the psychic offensive. 
sadism: sexual pleasure derived from torturing 
another or inflicting pain. 
sublimation: the leading of repressed sexual crav- 
ings to higher and more useful purposes. 
suggestion: the implanting of an idea in the mind 
of another by some word or act. 
telepathy: the simultaneous occurrence of the same 
thought or impulse in the minds of two individuals 
at a distance from each other. 
therapeutics: the science and art of healing, 
transference: the feeling of sympathy between 
patient and physician that leads to actual trans- 
mission of psychic currents. BEYOND PSYCHOANALYSIS 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
and INTRODUCTION 
TF we are to find out anything of the reality of a 
1 spiritual world, it will have to be through some 
such medium as psycho-cosmology, rather through 
mathematically-derived systems, or by way of 
rationalizations of our sensory experiences. Reality 
can only be known by an instrumentality suitable to 
it; and it is this instrumentality which psycho-cos- 
mology offers towards arriving at an understanding 
of ourselves-what we are and whence we came; and 
of the cosmos-what its origin is and also its prob- 
able destiny. Now this instrumentality is what I 
shall call the psychic senses of our subconscious 
matter. The meaning of this will become clear as 
we proceed. 
Psycho-cosmology is an effort, in theoretical 
science, to get beyond the visible manifestations of 
the universe, and of ourselves. It is an arm 
stretched out into the unknown. And the purpose, 
in this instance, is not merely one of curiosity. It is 
rather the desire or hope of re-associating the 
physical, psychic, and spiritual part of man with the 
physical, psychic, and spiritual part of the cosmos. 
We know from Freud that thought can symbolize 
itself in the dream-can transform itself into a 
dramatic visualization. It follows therefore that, 
even if thought is not energy, it can nevertheless 
translate itself into energy. Now psycho-cosmology 
holds that subconscious thought is energy of an im- 
perishable stuff that never gives out, and that it 
can transform itself radio-actively into any other 
form of energy required. Thus, for instance, im- 
pressions received from remote objects may remain 
merely sensory impressions unless the subconscious- 
157 158 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
ness, which receives the counterpart impression, acts 
upon it and unravels the essentiality of it. 
The whole universe indeed is bathed in a sub- 
stratum of the subconscious, in a psychic ocean. 
And just as the universe operates from this source 
as its dynamo, so the physical part of each of us 
operates from the soiirce that is subconscious in 
each of us. 
At this point I believe it will be well to outline 
some of my own mental processes towards a con- 
ception of psychoanalytic planes beyond those 
treated of by my predecessors. The reader thus will 
be able more intimately to follow out such original 
contributions in this field as I may have to offer 
in the course of this introductory study-contribu- 
tions embracing theories which I evolved gradually 
by analyzing the workings of my own inner life, in 
addition to studying the experiences of hundreds of 
others who, in the course of a thirty years' medical 
practice, came to me with their appeals and 
confessions. 
As a youth at school I was what one might call 
a knowledge-enthusiast. I became absorbed in a 
study in much the same manner that people became 
absorbed in a passion; and indeed, this thirst for 
knowledge was so absolute and exclusive as to make 
interest in all other studies, for the time, impossible. 
My "first love" was geography. To know the extents 
and limits of the physical world-this was my only 
concern, until, later, I turned with as much avidity 
to a study of history. I was next curious to know 
of the worlds beyond our own, and became immersed 
in astronomy. And in astronomy I found not only 
the subject which fascinated me above all others, 
but one which gave opportunities for the expression 
of what was already developing within me-psychic 
vision. 
I studied medicine, as I did physiology and psy- 
chology, to get at a knowledge of the workings of INTRODUCTION 
159 
the human machine, and to help me towards a surer 
understanding of the inter-relations existing be- 
tween physics and psychics. From psychology it 
was but a step to psycho-analysis. And psycho- 
analysis, it seems, offered the best solution yet to 
some of the most abstruse mysteries surrounding 
the hidden side of things. I came to believe in 
psycho-analysis because, to speak pragmatically, it 
worked. Apart from its great therapeutic value, 
which alone should entitle it to universal acclaim, 
psychoanalysis has undoubtedly been the means of 
opening up new pathways to the invisible. Through 
psycho-analysis, or rather, going beyond it, I saw 
where humanity could actually enter upon those 
untrodden wildernesses whence, returning, we may 
bring back with us faith in the life eternal. 
Psycho-cosmology, as I understand it, will develop 
a mathematics which has no physical counterpart, 
but which is just as rigid, just as un-assailable as 
applied mathematics. The truth is, practically all 
of our theoretical mathematics today is of this na- 
ture, that it has no objectual correspondence in the 
physical world. It is this kind of mathematics 
which psycho-cosmology seeks to bring to the fore 
-a kind of mathematics which the fourth-dimen- 
sionalists have already made admirable use of. 
We have seen how science, medical and otherwise, 
has had to yield point by point to the accumulation 
of spiritual evidences for which it made no room. 
The very fact that science has begun to discuss (and 
even recognize) the existence of ectoplasm or psy- 
choplasm (material substance to psychic manifesta- 
itons) shows what a breach has been made in the 
wall of the old tradition. The medical profession, 
for example, has had to "transvaluate its values" 
time and again-and is still compelled to do so. The 
last fortification of physics and chemistry seem also 
to be breaking down under the hammerings of new 
discoveries, such as radio-activity. We are thus 160 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
left practically without any "exact sciences." Even 
religion has come back to an authority almost as 
equivalent to that of science, for in religion, if we 
have had no mathematical certitudes, we have had, 
at least, the gospel of a perfection urge; and no truth 
ever proclaimed is as valid as this. Furthermore, 
psychical research has demonstrated to us the fact 
that there are beings who stand as living testimonies 
to the possibility of a direct re-association of the 
individual and the cosmos-beings (mediums) who 
have the power to pick up wireless messages, so to 
speak, from the ends of the universe. In these the 
psychic senses, at moments of trance, are developed 
to a point where they can see and hear, untroubled 
by time and space limitations. 
It is my conviction that science will more and 
more break away from the hard and fast rule-of- 
thumb calculations and further extend its researches 
into the field of the psychic and the subconscious. 
We ought to prepare ourselves to believe that the 
psychic powers within us (which will develop the 
psychic senses) will yet help us to see and know 
what is actually going on in other globes. I may 
say that I have developed my own psychic senses 
to such a point that I already see, in my semi-con- 
scious states, beyond the power of the physical mind 
or eye. Of course, in making this statement, I am 
prepared for ridicule, mocking criticism, and even 
pity from not only the ignorant (scientific or other- 
wise) but also from the "people in the high places." 
Because I am well versed in the history of human 
endeavor; and the instances in which original in- 
vestigators have been cried down and harrassed 
have occurred too often not to be repeated. For 
that reason, for a good many years I hesitated to 
publish what I have set down in this book. But the 
urge became more and more insistent as the con- 
viction grew more and more firmly rooted within me. 
I felt I could no longer withhold expression of what INTRODUCTION 
161 
might, possibly, be stirring in other men's souls. 
And it is one of the hopes of this work that it may 
stimulate others to similar expression, where the 
need is present. In this way, by the accumulation 
of testimonials from all sorts of sources, the founda- 
tion of a new science may be laid. What I offer here 
is only a hint of what lies ahead of us. But these 
hints, I trust, will provoke others, and these others 
still others, until the whole world will prove as a 
cataclysmic light leading us out of a great darkness. 
Blood, tears, and suffering-through these has 
man waded towards his perfection. And as he has 
known "human inhumanities" in the past, and knows 
of them in the present, so he will continue to know 
them in the future. But the struggle will be surer, 
grander, more enlightened. Because, the sooner 
man becomes aware of the formidable powers within 
him, greater than those of any god ever conceived 
of-the sooner will a "rapport" be established be- 
tween himself and the cosmos; and through the 
cosmos, with his fellow man. All of us are, so to 
speak, signal stations from which the soul can speak 
across the abysses of time and space. Just now, the 
connections are not as they should be, the circuits 
have not been closed. This is the task of the psychic 
senses-to establish the "rapport" between the in- 
dividual and the cosmos, and back again to the in- 
dividual. 
The urge to perfection in us (developing the psy- 
chic senses) is already working towards that high 
end-striving to re-unite us to the infinite, just as 
the scattered nuclei in the heavens seek again union 
with the universal tide whence they sprung. 
Through a realization of the truths contained in 
psycho-cosmology, we may become prophets and 
seers, knowing as intimately the doings on other 
spheres as in our own households. 
The mind of man arose first ultra-microscopically 
as a part of creation; it has developed through infinite 162 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
gradations; it has fought its way through matter 
unceasingly; it has created for itself a grander and 
grander place in the human experimentum crucis. 
Now it may enter into its final glory-lifting man 
out of the claims of his own past and relating him 
back again to the invisible psychic world, which is 
the real source and ultimate goal of him. Man need 
not be master of his own house-the material house, 
or may become master of a greater house, the house 
of the invisible, positive matter, the house of the 
subconscious senses, the house spiritual, the house 
that may endure forever. I 
THE MEANING OF PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
HP HE aim of all philosophy, all sciences, all art, all 
religion, and indeed of all human endeavor, is 
the attainment of truth. Everything else may be 
said to be a means to that end. The great problems 
that have engaged the attention and taxed the in- 
genuity of the mind of man since he commenced, in 
a conscious way, to deal with the world-the prob- 
lem of Being, of Change, of Substance, of Time, of 
Space, of Design, of Free Will, of God-all these are 
a preparation for, and merge into the problem of 
truth. Where the attainment of truth-absolute 
truth-is impossible (and truth, in this sense, has 
never yet been achieved) all other intermediary 
certitudes become, as a consequence, deniable. For 
if, as the Greek Skeptics contended, we cannot, 
equipped as we are, ever probe to the essential 
nature of things, how can the semblances of things, 
such as our knowledge of the world gives us, pre- 
sume to be anything better than falsifications of 
Reality? Yet it is with the semblances of things, 
rather than through and beyond the semblances of 
things that we have constantly striven to attain 
to the truth! That has been our woefullest error. 
Psycho-cosmology does not profess to reveal the 
nature of truth. What it does offer is the conception 
of a way to truth. It demonstrates how truth, 
whatever its nature, may be arrived at through the 
development of the proper and adequate instru- 
mentality. And it tells what that instumentality is. 
163 164 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
Perhaps indeed we shall never be able to discover 
the nature of truth until we come upon it, accident- 
ally or otherwise. The important thing, however, at 
present, is to try out every possible approach to 
truth, leaving no hypothesis untried or unchallenged. 
In one of his American lectures, Bergson said that 
if, and when, it became necessary for the human 
system to develop a third eye in the back of its head, 
it will do so upon the need arising. For, according 
to psycho-cosmology, man evolved from worm to 
cosmic intelligence by the urge within him so to 
evolve-by the push from the centre of perfection, 
by the dynamic como-energy resident in the sub- 
conscious. It was always the subsconscious that has 
led us, that has indeed created us our whole physical 
as well as mental constitution. Our hands, our eyes, 
brains, mouths, ears, etc., these are the result of a 
push from within to meet an urge from without. 
And it is this same push from within, this same 
subconsciousness, which will yet evolve for us, with 
the need arising, a new set of senses by means of 
which we shall know and be able to commune with 
remote suns; by means of which, indeed, the whole 
universe will be experienced purely and instantane- 
ously. It is this urge, this perfection urge, which 
lies at the bottom of all religions, and all the arts. 
No science of government is possible without it as 
a basis. Indeed, any union of men which omits it 
cannot hope to thrive for long. The perfection urge 
is the very meaning of life. 
Up to the present moment, humanity has traversed 
a wilderness of roads, all purporting to lead to the 
ultimate shrine-truth. But humanity seems hardly 
nearer the goal that when it first set out. Yet, with 
psycho-cosmology offering a new starting-point, 
mapping out a new road over which the inquiring 
spirit may journey, and discovering, as equiqment, a 
new instrumentality, the quest need not yet be given 
over. THE MEANING OF PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
165 
While Psycho-Cosmology may best be described, 
on the one hand, as a derived system, a system which 
owes not a little to theories and doctrines which 
have preceded it, on the other hand it may also 
safely be termed an original system, tracing its 
inception, as it does, to certain independent processes 
of thought set going in the mind of the author by 
a series of baffling and recurrent dreams. These 
dreams of an ultra-mundane character and explicable 
by no past or present-day science. Indeed, it 
was mainly through an effort to explain adequately 
the nature and possibility of these dreams that the 
whole theory of psycho-cosmology started into being. 
To all intents and purposes, therefore, Psycho- 
Cosmology is a new theory; new, in that it offers a 
solution to the problem of knowledge (epistemology) 
hitherto unsuggested or untried; as well as holding 
out a key to the unlocking of the mysteries of the 
constitution and motivation of the world. From 
what scientific sources Psycho-Cosmology draws its 
best inspiration and chief endorsement will be made 
evident in the course of the book. 
What does Psycho-Cosmology imean and what 
does it set out to prove ? To answer these questions 
in a sentence or two would be difficult if not indeed 
impossible. And yet, in some manner, it is necessary 
to indicate at the very outset just what we are about. 
A preliminary working definition is therefore in 
order. 
To state it briefly, then, Psycho-Cosmology offers 
the conception of a new theory of the subconscious. 
The subconscious has been the storm-centre of many 
theories lately-and deservedly, for in an un- 
derstanding of the subconscious lies our salvation. 
Prof. Sigmund Freud, let us remember, demonstra- 
ted that the subconscious, whenever we really get to 
it (through, for instance, a correct interpretation of 
a dream) always reveals a truth about our inmost 
self of which, consciously, we might not possibly have 166 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
been aware. A study of the nature of the subcon- 
scious, hence, is what may set us on the right road to 
truth. Psycho-Cosmology, in this sense, is an out- 
growth of psycho-analysis: both see in the subcon- 
scious the key to the riddle of the universe, through 
man. 
To state it less generally, Psycho-Cosmology will 
try to prove that in this subconsciousness there 
exists and has always existed a stratum of matter 
which has practically been left untouched; and that 
this matter (to be conceived as of an order quite 
distinct, though not operatively different, from 
physical matter) is capable of developing a set of 
super senses- psychic senses-already present in 
the nuclei; and that, further, these senses, com- 
parable in many ways to our physical senses (as the 
subconscious matter is to the conscious matter). are 
the only perceptory organs which can, or shall be 
able to, give us an image of the world as it really is, 
in itself. That is to say, Psycho-Cosmology will try 
to prove that Reality can be revealed to us in pure 
form only through experience of an absolute nature 
derived through the instrumentality of these psychic 
senses. It may be asked here why this method of 
approach should be considered superior to previous 
methods of approach, all of which have failed to 
give us the desired end. The answer is, the previous 
methods failed because the instrumentalities em- 
ployed were not adequate enough to overcome ob- 
structions which the instrumentalities themselves, 
the moment they began to operate, created. Nothing 
absolute can be measured in terms of the relative. 
Yet this is what we have been trying to do with the 
problem-submitting it to instrumentalities which, 
being relative, could not cope with it. Now Psycho- 
Cosmology proposes meeting absolute with absolute. 
The cosmos needs for its comprehension something 
of its own immediate nature, something cosmic. 
Only the beautiful can know beauty. THE MEANING OF PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
167 
Now we know that the world, as we experience 
it today, and have experienced it from the rise of 
consciousness through the various stages of animal 
and human existence, is a conscious, sense-percep- 
tory, conceptual entity, an entity determined by a 
thousand and one subjective and objective controls; 
an entity that is in constant flux, that varies 
and is various to the beholder (who himself 
changes) every moment of his life, an entity 
about which Truth, cannot possibly be pos- 
tulated. Yet this entity, this world, this con- 
struction of our senses and intellect, this is the 
kind of thing with which we deal, and the thing 
to which we have adjusted ourselves, and the 
thing we accept, for the moment, as real. Our 
senses and intelligence, though limited, may be 
admitted to be competent here as far as understand- 
ing the posited world goes. This world, besides, 
being subject constantly to these two instrumentali- 
ties, has pretty thoroughly been sounded, probed, 
weighed, measured, analyzed, and synthesized. But 
Reality-or Truth-which is beyond the phenom- 
enal, is also for that very reason beyond the reach 
of these senses and this intelligence just referred to. 
The world as it really is, independent of what we 
know or think of it, the world-in-itself, the Noumena, 
as Kant called it, the true world, in a word,-this 
requires for its experiencing and comprehending an 
entirely different order of perception and an entirely 
different order of conception also. It is this new 
order which Psycho-Cosmology sees promissory in 
the development of the unprobed stratas of the sub- 
consciousness, in the evocation, out of that subcon- 
sciousness, of the psychic senses. 
Indeed, the only way to truth seems to lie in and 
through the liberation or evolution of a species of 
matter of whose operations and potentialities we 
have as yet not experienced with-a species of 
matter that must be different in more than one 168 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
vital respect from matter as we know it. This 
matter must be capable of approaching (and ulti- 
mately relating itself to) a universe psycho-materi- 
ally constituted, as our universe is. With the evo- 
lution of such an order of matter in the subconscious 
(for only in the subconscious may it reside and 
unfold) and the growth of its potential psychic 
senses will come the ability to get behind phenomen- 
alism finally, overcome the world of appearances, and 
get at the heart of Reality, to the very citadel of 
truth. 
The expression "psychic senses" may seem, off- 
hand, a contradiction in terms. But it defines more 
accurately than any other expression I can think 
of just now what the subconsciuos matter is posited 
as possessing, if only in the germ: i.e., senses of the 
sub-mind or soul which shall have the ability to 
pierce through physical matter as easily and more 
thoroughly than the X-Ray does; and not only pierce 
through such physical matter, but comprehend the 
Reality when it is revealed thereby. It is well worth 
while re-iterating that psychic matter (as will be- 
come more and more apparent the further we 
advance in our exposition) is the only order of 
matter which can get us to the truth, even if in- 
directly; and the senses which it is to develop are 
the only order of senses which may experience the 
world in its true form. These senses will stand in 
the same relationship to the subconscious as the 
physical senses now stand to the conscious. 
Plato believed (see his "Phaedrus") that all ex- 
perience is a kind of provocation of ideas already 
possessed by or innate to the soul; and that know- 
ledge gained in the world was nothing more than 
reminiscence (anamnesis). In much the same sense 
a parallel may be drawn with reference to the sub- 
conscious levels; experience gained in the real world, 
the true world, through the instrumentality of the 
psychic senses will only serve to verify or confirm THE MEANING OF PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
169 
the innate conceptions (knowledge) of Reality which 
the subconscious already possesses; for the sub- 
conscious stems directly from the cosmic, is an in- 
tegral part of the cosmic, and therefore partakes 
of the nature of the cosmic; which amounts to say- 
ing that it can re-enter the source whence it issues, 
and identify itself again with the absolute truth, 
which is self-knowing and other-knowing. Con- 
sciousness is the instrument of personal existence; 
subconsciousness is the organ of individuality, which 
is imperishable. 
In spite of all the foregoing, it may still appear 
incorrect or infelicitous to speak of "matter of the 
soul" and "sense of the soul," but I shall have to 
employ these terms and ask that they be accepted 
pro temp until the reader advances far enough in 
this work to accept them altogether. Let us there- 
fore proceed on the assumption that the soul 
possesses its own stratum of matter and its own set 
of senses; this assumption will fit in with a universe 
as here conceived-psycho-materially constituted. 
Now matter only of such an order as I have described 
can hope to attempt truth. No mere physical 
matter, no development of consciousness in the 
physical world, no reach of intellect dealing with 
experience-none of these can comprehend Reality, 
as we have come to learn only too well. Not even 
sudden flashes from the intuitional regions (which 
lie midway between the fore-conscious and the sub- 
conscious) may give it us. Like only can really 
comprehend like. The conscious, I concede, may 
understand and correctly adjudge the significance 
of its own experiences in the world of experience; 
but outside the province of this world of experience 
in which it works, it is helpless. The subconscious, 
on the other hand, has to do with the inner essences, 
with the truth behind semblance; and for such only 
the senses of the subconscious will be adequate 
This point cannot be emphasized too strongly or 
too often. 170 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
Psycho-Cosmology holds that physical matter and 
consciousness are merely the negative, visible mani- 
festations of invisible and positive working energies 
stemming from the subconscious. All phenomena 
are, in fact, negative aspects of a positive force. A 
building, for instance, is a 'negative' to the plan as 
it originated in the mind of the architect. A poem 
is a 'negative' to the inspiration as it arose in the 
soul of the poet. The whole world of experience, 
thus, is a 'negative' to the whole world of will, of 
thought, of desire, which traces back to the hidden 
empire-the subconscious. We have, therefore, to 
unlearn our lessons. What we have been calling 
positive is really negative; and what we have been 
calling real is unreal; and what we have been calling 
visible, is really invisible. The Invisible is really the 
Visible, paradoxically as this may sound. 
Now Psycho-Cosmology is dual in this respect, 
that it places this psychic matter on a level with the 
psyche itself. Psycho-Cosmology believes in the 
concomittancy and inseparableness of the two- 
psychic matter and spirit-as twin-working prin- 
ciples operative throughout the universe. Cosmos 
and psyche-neither is possible without the other, 
and neither is superior to the other. Matter is im- 
mortal along with the soul. Psychic matter is the 
soul dipping into the world to verify for itself the 
knowledge it has inherited and may not forget. It 
is the soul's 'manner' for the reassurance of its 
possession of immortality. 
Psycho-Cosmology, is not a spiritualistic doctrine, 
or a doctrine that asserts the superiority of soul 
over matter, or denies matter. It is a system where- 
in matter comes into its own-where it is none the 
less significant, divine, or enduring than spirit. 
Indeed, they are two aspects of one principle. It is 
therefore preposterous to argue that matter will in 
time be cast off like an organ whose usefulness is 
done, because matter (whether of the lower order; THE MEANING OF PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
171 
physical, or the higher order; psychic) is eternally 
co-eval with soul, and if we desire to consider matter 
in the light of the instrumental aspect of the soul, 
then we may say that the faster the potentialities 
of matter are realized and actualized in the psyche, 
in nearer and nearer approaches to ultimate truth, 
the more potential will matter become, having for- 
ever greater tasks for the soul to accomplish. Matter 
may be said to be the taskmaker of the soul. One 
is impossible without the other; even in the most 
spiritual realms conceivable. One might as well 
separate movement from energy. 
Matter is, of course, of all sorts and degrees, 
but the two grand divisions may be stated as 
physical and psychical. About physical matter 
we stand in no great perplexity, comparatively 
speaking; it does not evade, in a workable way, 
our study, analysis, conclusions, etc. About 
psychic matter and its operations we as yet 
know very little, except by way of recent investiga- 
tions into the phenomena of auras, dual personalities, 
psychic doubles, and through researches in the sub- 
ject of dreams and the whole "night side of con- 
sciousness." The darkness in which the whole 
problem of psycho-dynamic energies is shrouded 
need not be wondered at, because the subconscious 
from which they issue is itself groping about, wait- 
ing for its infant super-senses to develop. With 
the development of these senses will come light and 
understanding-verification of the perfection within 
and about us. With the development of these senses 
will come the power to communicate mentally not 
only with other people at far ends of the earth, but 
with other universes at remote poles of space. 
Now, how are these subconscious senses to be 
developed and nurtured; how stimulated into activ- 
ity; how made to bear dramatically upon our con- 
scious existence? Well, in many ways, but chiefly, 
it seems, by turning our attention more and more 172 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
to the goings-on in the field of the subconscious, by 
further analysis and investigation of our dreams, 
by continuous and continued researches in the 
physical and spiritualistic domain, whenever and 
wherever the super-phenomena show themselves; 
and finally, by cultivating the belief that the power 
and liberating vision of the soul are boundless as it 
is infinite, that the accomplishment of the divine in 
us is not a mission so much which we have upon us, 
but a destiny which cannot, even if we could, 
forego. 
It will be well to indicate here cursorily, before 
the close of the chapter, wherein Psycho-Cosmology 
differs or agrees with other philosophies and sys- 
tems. The nearest approach to a sort of physical 
psycho-cosmology is Fechner's theory of psycho- 
physics. He sees the existence of mental processess 
(in descending degrees of clearness) in animals, 
plants, and finally also in inorganic matter. Accord- 
ing to psycho-physics, the entire universe in con- 
scious. But Psycho-Cosmology goes further and 
holds that not only is the entire physical universe 
animated with a consciousness, but also with a sub- 
consciousness. Empedocles sees "the power of 
thought in all things." Psycho-Cosmology sees the 
power of vision in all things. 
Psycho-Cosmology is in agreement with Leibnitz's 
monadology in that all perfection and accomplish- 
ment is in us in the nucleus, in their potentialities. 
The subconscious matter and the psychic sense- 
perceptions are not about to be created merely by 
"intending" our consciousness upon the subconscious 
areas, but are already present, needing only to be 
evolved-"brought out" as stars by the oncome of 
night. 
Psycho-Cosmology is opposed to spiritualism, 
monism, idealism, and kindred philosophies which 
reduce the world to a single principle and which 
hold Reality, the material thing-in-itself, to be a con- THE MEANING OF PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
173 
ceptual illusion. It is true that the reality we have 
been getting is a surface-reality as revealed to us 
by our sense perceptions, backed by our reasoning. 
Such rationalizations of our experiences can at best 
give us a logical universe, a workable world, but 
never the true world. Knowledge through subcon- 
scious senses will, dispensing with the intervention 
of intelligence and the imperfect sense perceptions 
of our consciousness, be pure, immediate, and ulti- 
mate. Thus, the goal of all philosophy, truth, or 
the world as it really is, will be encompassed through 
the use of the instrumentality suggested by Psycho- 
Cosmology: i.e.: subconscious matter. 
With teleology, Psycho-Cosmology is in agree- 
ment only to the extent that, matter being an 
endless accomplishment of endless potentialities in 
the soul, continually heads to perfection-but an 
indeterminate perfection. This point will be further 
elaborated upon in the third chapter. It will suffice 
here to say that Psycho-Cosmology conceives the 
universe as both free and yet teleological; there is 
no one single perfection awaiting us, a sort of irre- 
vocable perfection that we cannot evade. There is 
simply the urge of perfection, the need and inevi- 
tableness of perfection. For perfection is already in 
us, and the urge is for both perfections to meet and 
become identical. II 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
AND THE SUBCONSCIOUS 
w HAT is the subconscious? Not so long ago it 
used to be argued that the subconscious, as 
we understand the term today, does not exist; that 
it is a philosophical or metaphysical conception ar- 
rived at, on one side, by spiritists who desired to 
make more plausible their theory of the persistence 
of personality after death, and, on the other side, by 
psychologists and pathologists who saw in the sub- 
conscious the necessary frame-work around which 
they could weave their pet systems, such for 
example as the interpretation of dreams. When, 
however, our most conservative scientists were 
brought in time to acknowledge the existence of 
the subconscious-or of "something of the sort," 
they resorted to the use of such substitute terms 
as "co-consciousness" and the "inattentive levels 
of consciousness' as more accurately descriptive of 
the area in question. It was simply a case of holding 
back an unconditional surrender. For it is now 
generally if not universally conceded that the term 
subconsciousness (or unconsciousness, as some 
prefer) is an accurate enough symbol for what it 
purports to describe, and the more preferable for all 
purposes, scientific or otherwise, to any other terms 
suggested. 
What, to repeat, is the subconscious, and how 
does it function? At the risk of appearing con- 
tradictory, we may call the subconsciousness an un- 
conscious consciousness-that is to say, a conscious- 
174 THE SUBCONSCIOUS 
175 
ness of whose operation and existence we are not (or 
have not been) aware. The subconscious is an area 
directly below the threshold (the limen) of the 
wakeaday mind, and it is here that all the repressed, 
forgotten, or temporarily unemployed habits, 
motives, wishes, impulses, cravings, etc. are stored 
away. Not stored away so that they cannot be 
evoked in a moment to the level of consciousness 
again, or so that they exert no influence on our 
conduct. On the contrary, no matter how remote 
and unremembered an experience or impulse may be, 
it does not cease to shade and qualify our conscious 
acts. So that, if we would properly estimate a deed, 
-that is, determine its cause, we must assign nine- 
tenths of its composite will-to-do to the subconscious 
and one tenth to the conscious. Prof. Freud himself 
makes the point that conscious thought, for instance, 
is so little complete as to be scarcely any index to 
a man's real character; and that is so because a 
man's conscious thought is so greatly and ineviatbly 
determined by thoughts of which he may not even 
be aware-and indeed, for the most part, cannot. 
Conscious thought is a flash in an eternity of in- 
tellection. Conscious thought is like the "surface 
foam of a sea where the real currents are well 
beneath the surface." Conscious thought is like the 
exposed cap of an ice-berg the bulk of which is 
submerged. 
All our lived-through emotions, all our hindered 
desires, all our experiences to which we have reacted 
with any degree of intensity, live imperishably in 
the subconscious. Nothing, therefore, that has ever 
pierced below the surface of our daily existence, is 
ever wiped out entirely from the tablet of our 
memory, or cannot, under the appropriate stimuli, 
be re-invoked. The subconscious is the reservoir 
from which we draw and into which we pour con- 
tinously waters of our momentary lives. 
For most people, says Prof. Frink in his book 176 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
"Morbid Compulsions" such a term as subconscious 
"as applied to mental processes smacks of the trans- 
cendental and unreal. It seems hard for them to 
believe that ideas or impulses which are more or less 
unconscious can at the same time be significant, 
and exert a potent influence in the individual's life 
and conduct . . .but as a matter of fact, all of us, 
even those who have been most vehement in denying 
the reality or significance of unconscious mental 
processes, do, in a way, recognize both their exis- 
tence and their potency ..." Prof. Frink goes 
on to say further that the forces causing compulsive 
symptoms (for instance) are not apprehended by 
the patients themselves. And he asks what it is 
that thus prevents them from being aware of the 
factors that are really at work, and his answer is 
that, for the most part, "these impulses (and their 
representing ideas) are of such a kind as to be 
repugnant to the patients' conscious personality and 
contrary to, or out of accord with, the trends of 
his ethical self. The lack of knowledge (therefore) 
is a result of automatic censorship exercised by 
consciousness and the foreconscious-an effect of 
repressions." 
When we talk of repressions, we cannot be very 
far away from neurosis. Now a repression is 
nothing more or less than an unfulfilled wish which 
has been transferred from the attentive level of 
consciousness to an "inattentive level of conscious- 
ness," or to the subconsciousness. In this latter 
level a wish may persist unchanged in quality or 
intensity, and be in no manner different except that 
the individual has ceased to have awareness of it. 
Where the repressed elements of a wish are neither 
completely excluded from consciousness nor wholly 
free to enter it, a neurosis arises. The real cause 
of the neurosis, it will thus be clear, is occasioned 
by the subconscious being overburdened with matter 
it cannot altogether assimilate or abosrb, and is AND THE SUBCONSCIOUS 
177 
constantly trying to reject back into the conscious 
level, which in turn refuses or dreads to receive 
it. Where consciousness is overburdened (as with 
sex, money, ambition) it too tries the same tactics, 
that is to say, it seeks to push into the subconscious 
what is of annoyance to itself; and here too a 
neurosis may arise, where the subconscious refuses 
to receive what the conscious tries to force upon it. 
Now, all the while that the subconscious merely 
tolerates the tenancy of a suppressed wish, looking 
constantly for a chance to dispossess it, the neu- 
rosis keeps on developing until the mind, caught 
between the two combative forces, is seriously 
affected. 
Repressions, then, where they continue to trouble 
the consciousness, bring on the neurosis. Now 
repressions may be racial as well as individual, and 
psychologically as well as organically occasioned. In 
fact, the majority of repressions are brought on by 
psychologic causes rather than by organic. Dr. 
Alfred Adler does not care to go so far, however. 
For him the neurosis is rooted in the organic and 
derived from the effort on the part of the patient 
constantly to overcome his feeling of physical in- 
feriority. For Prof. Freud, on the other hand, the 
origin of the psychic conflict is traced to a frustrated 
wish fulfillment in organically normal beings. Both 
conceptions combined, perhaps, may bring us nearer 
the truth: repressions are unfulfilled wishes towards 
perfection, the inferior elements in us striving con- 
stantly to attain to the superior. 
The man who has life interest will find his sub- 
conscious troubling him very little and his con- 
sciousness functioning well. That is because life- 
interests (which are endeavors directed towards 
perfection and the truth) are of cosmic origin. Now 
a suicider, a man with murderous thoughts, has 
what might be called a "dead" or "decayed" sub- 
consciousness. The same might be said of lunatics. 178 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
They are out of the forward current; they experi- 
ence no desire to go ahead. And they are miserable. 
For happiness in life may be had through a joy in 
life, through a love for life, through a "rapport" 
established between and among the cosmic, subcon- 
scious, and conscious levels. 
It has been the study of the neuroses, I think, 
which has led deeper than any other study to an 
understanding of the subconscious, if not indeed to 
the discovery of the subconscious itself. For it was 
through the interpretation of the dreams of neu- 
rotics, the diseased in mind, the sub- and super- 
normal, that Freud arrived at his epoch-making 
theories. Without the revelation of the subcon- 
scious, through the byway of the neuroses, specula- 
tion about it, as in the case of Schopenhauer and 
Eduard von Hartman, was more or less fanciful. 
And the hard-headed philosophers and scientists 
of the latter part of the 19th Century were largely 
justified in being "reluctant to admit the propriety 
of any conception of unconscious or subconscious 
states or operations." At that time it was rather a 
matter of belief or persuasion rather than of fact. 
Fechner, the founder of psycho-physics, like Scho- 
penhauer and von Hartman before him, but with 
greater insight, sought to prove that "a sensory 
stimulus too feeble to affect consciousness produces 
nevertheless a psychical effect which remains below 
the threshold of consciousness," and he tried to show 
ground for believing in the existence of a vast realm 
of such "subliminal (equivalent here to subcon- 
scious) processes." 
Though Fechner's specific arguments failed, per- 
force, to carry conviction, as Freud's arguments 
have, the reality of modes of mental operation which 
may properly be called subconscious soon became 
generally acknowledged on other grounds. For 
during the opening years of the 20th Century there 
began to be accumulated such a mass of observa- AND THE SUBCONSCIOUS 
179 
tions which sufficed, in the opinion of those best 
qualified to judge, to establish the reality of 
processes which express themselves in purposeful 
actions and which bear all the marks for which we 
are accustomed to infer conscious cognition, but of 
which nevertheless the subject of normal personality 
may have no knowledge or awareness. 
Myers, one of the earliest scientific investigators 
and believers in the possibilities of communication 
between the living and the dead, further developed 
the theory of the subconscious and brought it to 
something of its present status. He referred to the 
area as the ''subliminal self." This subliminal self 
was conceived as being in touch with a realm of psy- 
chical forces from which it is able to draw supplies 
of energies which it infuses into the organism, nor- 
mally in limited quatities, but in exceptionally 
favorable circumstances, in great floods, which, for 
the time being, raise the mental operations and the 
powers of the mind over the body to an abnormally 
high level." Now Myers believed, and I fully agree 
with him, that the cosmos is a kind of universal 
subconsciousness of which each one of us contains 
a part. Our particular subconsciousness is a tiny 
tributary, nourished by the great mother stream. 
In moments of conscious inattention, as during 
dreams, for example, there is the chance for the in- 
dividual stream to reunite itself with the parent sea, 
and prove itself once more in its origin. It is thus 
that what we are most, what we are first and last, 
is what subconsciousness brings with it in its "dip" 
into material carnation. Our consciousness does not 
inherit-only our subconscious inherits. For the 
subconscious itself inherits eternity, and we are 
primarily a part of all time and all space. 
To return to the neurosis. What is the neurosis? 
How does it stand with relation to the subconscious ? 
And how does the subconscious relate to the cosmos ? 
The neurosis is an interference of the libido (the 180 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
impulses as they naturally rise in us and seek their 
satisfaction). As will be shown later on, there is in 
the subconscious a perfection urge, and it is the 
neurosis which interferes with this. A neurosis 
blocks the way of both the forward-striving soul 
and the forward-striving matter. Life pushes life, 
it must go on, it cannot look back, in a word, must 
live, and living is a going onward. But the neurosis 
is a backward-tending motif. The neurotic lives in 
the past. He has no love for life. He does not 
administer to the perfection urge; he does not fulfill 
in himself the potentialities of the psychic in him; 
he does not elicit cosmic response. And in propor- 
tion as a man approaches reality and life,-away 
from the fictitious goal towards which his neurosis 
leads him, he works more and more harmoniously 
with the cosmos, and the neurosis is thereby weak- 
ened. The neurosis is, indeed, nothing more or less 
than a maladjustment of the proper harmony which 
should exist between the individual and the cosmos. 
Consequently, he who has a love for life is immune 
from any danger of neuroticism. For the neurotic 
is like a refractory state set up in defiance of the 
welfare of a union of states. The neurotic is like 
a state that has seceded. 
Now, what does life require more than anything 
else. It requires to go ahead constantly, never to 
go back, and never to remain in one place, which 
is a going backwards. Life is a subconsciously- 
administered urge onward. And though this on- 
wardness may lead ultimately (as it must) to its 
origin, it is an urge onward just the same. The 
matter of its return-to-origin will be discussed more 
fully in the following chapter, where the relationship 
existing between the perfection urge and the theory 
of relativity will be taken up. Suffice it to say here 
that the urge of the subconscious is to "close circuit" 
itself with the perfection of the cosmos, enlisting 
for this purpose a forward-striving soul and a for- 
ward-striving matter. AND THE SUBCONSCIOUS 
181 
From all the foregoing, it will be manifest why 
the subconscious must be cleared of all suppressions, 
of all fixations and complexes, of all the rubbish and 
excess baggage which the inhibitions of conscious 
life have burdened the subconscious with. Every 
neurosis deranges the subconscious, disturbs the 
urge. And the result, of course, is disastrous. The 
subconscious must always be free to act as a sort 
of playground for the perfecting urges of man, the 
reservoir of onward-forging aspirations and yearn- 
ings; it must be allowed to develop its stratum of 
matter, its set of super-senses which will give us, 
as I do not hesitate to repeat, the key to a true 
understanding of the world. 
Now, the cure of a neurotic is simple enough. 
It can be achieved by making him conscious of the 
cosmic through the subconscious. By establishing 
in him a "rapport" with the sub-stations of the 
universe. Just as dementia may be due to a dis- 
turbance of signals flashed from the other psychic 
centres* so inspiration may be the result of readily- 
received cosmic responses. 
The achievement of man should not only be in his 
conscious life, but in his subconscious life as well. 
While his consciousness is like something acquired, 
his subconsciousness is like something taken in 
trust and given back. Its use, therefore, ought, in 
a sense, be paid for-and how better could this be 
done than when the individual releases his sub- 
conscious into the cosmic stream again, he releases 
it richer than when he first assumed conscious 
thought over it. 
Often-even if it is radical to say so-conformity 
to morality as required by society produces the 
neurosis. I do not say that, on this account, social 
morality should be defied or impugned if, by sub- 
mitting to it, other ways of escape may be found 
for the satisfaction or sublimations of irrepressible 
and ineradicable desires. I do not require an up- 182 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
setting of the ethical code. I do say this, however, 
that conformity to morality in the world must not 
be had at the expense of the subconscious. We owe 
as great (if not greater) allegiance to what we are 
as to what we seem to be. And we should not today 
be so concerned with sex problems such as overflow 
our daily newspapers if the oppressive policy of 
Puritanism did not lie at the bottom of our social 
structure. What we are witnessing (in the way of 
bigamy, divorce, adultery, etc.) is the inevitable 
reaction. The conscious life cannot make the sub- 
conscious its scapegoat for long. The revulsion 
comes, sooner or later. But the injury done is a 
lasting one-to both levels. Let us therefore act 
fairly to ourselves as to others. Let us give heed to 
the need of our souls, rather than give over our souls 
to our needs! Ill 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
AND THE PERFECTION URGE 
TT will be well, I think, at the outset of this chapter, 
1 to distinguish between two more or less approx- 
imating conceptions: one, the elan vital, made 
popular by Henri Bergson, and the other, the 
perfection urge, introduced here perhaps for the 
first time. 
The elan vital may be described as an urge in 
conscious matter to evolve itself-not passively and 
in obedience to a pre-arranged scheme, but to evolve 
itself creatively, at will, without concern for any 
possible "divinity that shapes our ends." This urge 
in conscious matter is, however, in the will rather 
than in consciousness; for, according to Bergson, 
the consciousness is only aware of the urge after it 
has manifested itself; that is to say, the will acts 
first, and then the consciousness becomes aware of 
the will having acted. Now these operations are not 
simultaneous but successive. The consciousness is, 
therefore, retrospective in respect of the elan vital. 
The perfection urge, on the other hand, is an urge 
in, and through, subconscious matter. Consciousness 
may never have become aware of the existence of 
such an urge, did not the records of the past endure 
to prove to us our progress. Consciousness, in fact, 
need have nothing to do with the urge, as an urge, 
except in the sense of acting as an instrument for 
its operation towards perfection. The urge, how- 
ever, infiltrates through all matter, through the 
entire physical universe, but it has its origin in the 
183 184 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
subconsciousness. But it will not be able to operate 
successfully before and until the advent of its own 
adequate instrumentality-the psychic senses. 
The urge to perfection is the ineradicable desire 
in us to know Reality-or rather to recognize it, 
through the obstructions of sensory phenomena. 
Intuition, or the underived possession of truth by 
the subconscious, is not of itself sufficient. What we 
need is confirmation of "a priori" truths, and this 
can only be gained by way of the subconscious 
senses; through these alone can the noumenal world 
be experienced, in addition to being already intuit- 
ively known. After all, a recognition of Reality must 
come through a confirmation of some sort of ex- 
perience. We cannot know a thing intuitively or 
through experience. Knowledge requires both: and 
this means confirmation. Consciousness, therefore, 
may be said to act as a kind of confirming instru- 
mentality for the subconscious. 
The pulse of the perfection urge, as said, is dis- 
tributed throughout the universe-or rather, it is 
the perfection urge which directs the universe; or 
better still, the universe itself is the perfection urge, 
and therefore self-directing. In the subconscious- 
ness throbs the dynamo of the universe. 
The*perfection urge does not manifest itself so 
clearly when man is by himself, cut off from others, 
living isolated, as when he is a member of a group 
or society. Not that solitude fails to administer to 
the urge as well. But society, the intercourse of 
one individual with many, one human being with a 
whole world of his fellows-it is this which brings 
the perfection urge much sooner into play, and more 
readily develops it. One may argue that even when 
man is alone, he is still in the presence of evidences 
of other personalities, and can draw nourishment 
from these, as well as from the abiding cosmic in- 
fluences such as the earth, air, sky, etc. (all of which 
contain in themselves the perfection urge, and help AND THE PERFECTION URGE 
185 
to stimulate it in man). But, as said before, per- 
sonality can express and accomplish itself best 
through direct reaction towards other personalities. 
No one can understand himself or another so well as 
when there is personal and immediate contact. That 
is why in a group or crowd-a mob, for example- 
the individuals tend to act quite differently "en 
masse" from the manner in which the members 
would act independently as individuals. Love is per- 
haps the best example of the eliciting of the perfec- 
ton urges in two persons. Love, indeed, as it 
manifests itself in a world-wide sympathy, is the 
culmination of the perfection urge as far as human 
existence is concerned. When a man identifies him- 
self with the hopes and despairs of the world, he 
transcends his own limitations, conscious and physi- 
cal, and attains to the vision which, sooner or later, 
must be the gift of us all. 
But even when people are antagonistic towards 
one another, even when they are at bloody strife, 
the perfection urge can never lie altogether dormant. 
For at all times, all around him, man is subject to 
the perfection urges streaming from the remotest 
ends of the universe. 
The perfection urge has its periods, its rise and 
fall, its peak and depression, like the waves of the 
ocean. When the perfection urge is high, then great 
sympathies are abroad in the world, great visions are 
wrought, mighty deeds are accomplished. When it 
is low, there is an access of animosities, crimes, wars, 
and so forth. 
The urge to perfection, at the same time that it 
is an outward and upward-striving instinct, is also 
a source-tending instinct. What I mean by a"source- 
tending" instinct is something of this nature; it is 
an urge that, in striving to separate itself from its 
origin, always, in the end, seeks to re-unite itself 
with that origin again. If we care to go into the 
matter at all-in fact, even a superficial observation 186 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
will suffice-we shall recognize at once that this 
principle is operative throughout the cosmos. The 
whole creation, indeed, will be found to "haunt back" 
to its origin, to which it finally returns-only to 
strive outward and onward again. If there is a 
divine event towards which the whole world moves, 
it is an event which has already occurred, and which 
will continue to occur. No two such divine events, 
however, because of this, are ever alike, or ever can 
be alike. So too, no two universes succeeding each 
other, can ever be alike. Return does not imply 
recurrence. The world is renewed, but not repeated. 
We return, let us concede, to the same source: but 
the source itself has already become other. Hera- 
clitus said: "One cannot step twice into the same 
river." And by that he meant that nothing ever can 
abide the same as it was an instant ago. It is there- 
fore really impossible to repeat anything. No elixir 
of youth, for example, can give us back our youth 
again as we knew it, though the years should drop 
from us magically enough. No return of whatever 
character, indeed can bring us back to the same point 
of departure. Life, as I am fond of saying over and 
over again, is an irreversible wheel. Nevertheless, 
in all creation, there is that Sehnsucht, that thirst to 
go back, to revisit, to live over again. Because of 
this feeling in us-in all of us-the theory of re- 
lativity, curved space, curved time, carries conviction. 
If space is curved, we return, though it take us a 
million years; if time is curved, then is the possibil- 
ity of living over again our lives, though the lapse 
be countless aeons. The past becomes re-treadable 
through the avenues of the future. Time is like 
the earth: go far enough in one direction and you 
will come upon the place whence you started. The 
present is like a bridge over which the past flows 
into the future, and the future flows again into the 
past. 
What we love and strive for, therefore,-that AND THE PERFECTION URGE 
187 
must already be in us, in our origins, as well as 
ahead of us. Not perhaps in the concrete forms in 
which we pursue our desires, but in the forms which 
concreteness cannot hide from us. We approach 
beauty because, thus, we are approaching something 
we have remembrance of, something that "has 
already spoken," something that we inherited with 
our birth, because it is something we are a part of. 
When I say beauty, I do not mean the kind of 
critical evaluation of it which the world has 
acquired in the course of its experience with matter, 
but beauty which is immediate, which is truth, 
which the subconscious is sympathetic to, with 
which the subconscious yearns to unite or reunite 
itself, beauty which is of cosmic origin, as the sub- 
conscious is. The self-same thing takes place when 
we approach any aspect of perfection. We are only 
thereby approaching our origin. Every strong im- 
pulse in us which we cannot overcome is an impulse, 
very likely, to satisfy the wish or need of our origin. 
The desire for immortality, for example, is so in- 
sistent in man because we stem from the immortal, 
and because, in the subconscious part of us, we are 
immortal ourselves. 
The urge to perfection, in a word, is an urge of 
the microcosm to become equal to and identical with 
the macrocosm; for the part to become whole again, 
for the many to become one; for the heterogeneous 
to become the homogeneous. Here I am entirely 
in agreement with the mystics who believe in a 
divine flood of cosmic energies bathing the universe 
eternally, and from which the universe itself draws 
eternal sustenance. The world and its soul, im- 
mersed in their present incarnation, have become 
somewhat separated from its flood, and need to re- 
enter it. The world and its soul have been led afar 
by its "Aussucht" (its experimental journeying) 
and craves the inevitable "Sehnsucht" (return). 
Everything indeed that ever goes forth adventuring 188 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
finally beholds itself pointing its footsteps home- 
ward. Every particle in the universe is possessed 
of this tendency. The conservation of energy prac- 
tically implies such a return. Light, for example, 
has been discovered to be-not straight, as popu- 
larly thought, but curved, home-coming. And space 
likewise. It is therefore easy to see, and admit, 
that whatever streams outward already has in it 
the pulse to return. 
The urge to perfection may be held back, im- 
paired, overridden by counteracting impulses, etc. 
But never for long can the urge to perfection thus 
be constrained. I cannot do better here than quote 
from W. E. Henley's poem "Invictus" which so well 
pronounces the imperishability in the breast of man, 
as in all creation, of the urge to perfection: 
"Out of the night that covers me, 
Black as the Pit from pole to pole, 
I thank whatever gods may be 
For my unconquerable soul. 
In the fell clutch of circumstance, 
I have not winced nor cried aloud 
Under the bludgeonings of chance 
My head is bloody,-but unbowed. 
It matters not how strait the gate, 
How charged with punishments 
the scroll; 
I am the master of my fate: 
I am the captain of my soul." 
The question naturally arises, does the urge to 
perfection in man imply that we are living there- 
fore in a deterministic universe, teleogically 
ordered? We have seen that Bergson's elan vital 
escapes the snares of finalism. The urge to perfec- 
tion does so likewise, though perhaps less obviously. 
The universe, according to the psycho-cosmologic 
theory, is deterministic only to the extent of the AND THE PERFECTION URGE 
189 
world, being an endless accomplishment of endless 
potentialities, does head towards perfection, towards 
a goal-but towards an indeterminate perfection, 
towards a variable goal. The only thing "given" 
(to borrow a mathematical term) is the quantity 
perfection. And the world is free, in time, to work 
out its own kind of perfection. The universe is, one 
might say, purposely a chance universe, because 
only through chance (and chance is really equivalent 
to what we mean by experience) can evolution be 
accomplished in a perfecting manner; a pre-ordained 
evolution is not, as Bergson so well argues, an evolu- 
tion that would be significant, that could liberate 
the soul or advance the universe. Action would, in 
such a case, be insane, pointless; and time would 
be illusion. Evolution must be an advance con- 
stantly towards free perfection-not continously, 
perhaps, but constantly. The design of perfection is 
left to chance. There is not, let me explain it, one 
single perfection out there, no definite far-off divine 
event towards which the whole creation moves, 
planned in advance of us, waiting to be fulfilled. 
There is in the universe simply the necessity of per- 
fection, the inevasibility of it. The cosmos drives 
towards what I might call inspecific perfection, as 
the divine spark in a really gifted artist drives him 
to inspecific excellence in whatever he sets out to 
create. Neither is constrained in any sense except 
towards perfection. 
We see, therefore, how the world is free, and yet 
also how it is determined; how it is given over to 
chance, to work out its own future for itself, and 
yet how it is teleogically circumscribed; how, in a 
word, it is both free-willed and deterministic. 
We come now to the ethical implications in the 
perfection urge theory. In the light of the per- 
fection urge, what is evil? The question, I imagine, 
from what we have observed in the foregoing pages, 190 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
is answered very easily. Evil is a mal-adjustment of 
the striving of the centre of perfection in man. 
Whatever disrupts or interferes with the operation 
of the perfection urge is an evil. 
Now evil, of whatever nature, soon manifests 
itself in a kind of neurosis, if long enough persisted 
in. For the neurosis is nothing less than a block to 
the on-goings of the urges in the subconscious, or 
the result of a too great tax upon the capacity of 
the subconscious. The neurosis tends to put a stop 
to or weaken the springs of the forward urges, and 
is, of all things, most detrimental to their fufilment. 
All causes, therefore, that bring on a neurosis are 
reprehensible, for they work hardship and distress 
on the perfection in man and woman. Hence, sup- 
pressions, inhibitions, all kinds of checks and stops 
that bring on a neurosis, are to be done away with, 
as far as possible. Let us, on this account, pay more 
heed to the subconscious levels. The conscious levels 
will then be more readily adjustable. 
All the evil in the world grows out of a lack of 
love for the cosmos, caused by a neurosis, which 
brings on an undeveloped, hampered, or destroyed 
centre of perfection. As a man approaches the 
cosmos, he adjusts himself to life and reality, he also 
approaches an understanding of the cosmos, love for 
the cosmos, fulfilment, beauty, expression. And 
when a man comprehends the cosmos and his in- 
tegral part in it, he cannot suffer from evil, from 
neurosis, superior or inferior. 
Pessimism, for instance, is a philosophy developed 
by the neurosis to explain itself-and even to justify 
itself. Pessimism is neuroticism. Optimism, on the 
other hand, is an attitude of philosophy which the 
urge to perfection in us naturally calls forth. The 
optimistic man is he who loves and has faith in life. 
Who sees progress, who finds good in his fellow be- 
ings, who discovers a principle behind scattered phe- 
namena, who, in face of catastrophe, and under the AND THE PERFECTION URGE 
191 
"bludgeonings of fate" keeps his head "unbowed," 
howsoever bloodied it may be. For the optimist 
there is even an ethical significance in the mobility 
of matter, in the swing of a planet, in the courses of 
the stars. "It is only in the temporal world, says 
Josiah Royce, in his book on the spirit of modern 
philosophy, "that moment to moment, as the drama 
changes, there is of necessity restlessness, evil 
strife, and therefore a serious business involved. 
That the evil also, however real to the finite being, 
however lamentable or hateful from a finite point of 
view, has its place in the perfection of Self, this is 
what optimism means, and in so far it is right . . . 
the general moral order must contain that perfec- 
tion in imperfection which Browning, in his best 
and most vital poems, was always striving to de- 
scribe to us." 
The perfection urge is the heart's desire of the 
world going towards its fulfilment. It is the fire in 
the brain of the genius, the light in the eye of the 
prophet, the love in the breast of the lover, the 
dream in the soul of the poet, the faith that he shall 
yet come upon truth, in the heart of the philosopher. 
The urge to perfection is everything that the world 
has been and is to be. It is the germinating stuff 
poured into the universe from the beginning of time. IV 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
AND THE FOURTH DIMENSION 
TXTITH the development of the psychic senses, a 
' ' new conception of the physical universe will 
arise in the consciousness, through the new apper- 
ception gained in the subconscious. At such time, 
when it comes, we shall be able to get at the very 
heart-secret of the world, for we shall then be in a 
position to overcome the thousand and one barriers 
which sense-experience and an intelligence-derived 
knowledge have set up between us and Reality. We 
shall surmount the tyranny of time-and perhaps 
even the absolutism of space. 
What, let us ask ourselves, is time? And in what 
relationship does it stand to space. Is time an 
objective reality, inherent in the mechanism of the 
cosmos, or is it, as Kant and other transcendental 
idealists have argued, only a subjective illusion 
posited upon the world. The question is not a simple 
one, though it may seem so off-hand. Because, 
though, it is true, we act in time, can measure time, 
know our world through time, and indeed, immerse 
our whole existence within time, we are not, never- 
theless, prepared to say what time is. Whether, to 
repeat, it is something we have created in order to 
make intelligible what must otherwise result, to us, 
in an unintelligible (and indeed inconceivable) uni- 
verse, or whether it is something we found already 
present in the nature of things-either possibility 
leaves room for speculation of the widest character. 
My own opinion leans towards the theory that time 
192 AND THE FOURTH DIMENSION 
193 
is the result of a non-instantaneous vision of the 
world, an involuntary separation of space into con- 
venient divisions-a before, a now, and an after: a 
recollection, perception, and postulation. And this 
we do for the sake of making it possible to deal with 
the world in a rational manner. The pure psyche, 
I am inclined to believe, the pure subconscious 
stream which is hardly touched by the flotsam of the 
consciousness, does not experience this division, does 
not know it even. And to the pure psyche, there- 
fore, the past, present, and future co-exist, as they 
must co-exist in any mind to which we ascribe the 
attribute of omniscience. For, if we come to think 
of it, it is only the consciousness that has the 
faculty of remembering and forgetting. The sub- 
consciousness, if and once it knows anything, knows 
it all the time, concommittantly with all that it shall 
know and all that it has known-that is to say, there 
can be no forgetting or remembering in the case of 
the subconscious, since there all things are present 
all at once. The psychic senses, therefore, when 
developed, and when they come to experience the 
true world (Reality) will experience it wholly, in- 
stantaneously, so that what we now know as past, 
as well as what we are to know as the future, will 
be all contained in the existing moment. In a word, 
the past is not something passed away, and the 
future is not something yet to be created, yet to be 
born. Both exist with the present, but with this 
difference: that they are at different points of the 
road, so to speak. Time is like a bridge over which 
the universe passes on its way towards perfection. 
The bridge does not cease to exist the moment one 
passes over it. Life could, therefore, following out 
this conception, go back over the bridge of our 
yesterdays if it were not destined irrevocably to go 
continually forward, even when it retraces its way. 
Now, consciousness, as we know, operates in a 
three-dimensional universe-a universe in which 194 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
experience may be had only in three planes. And 
we have accepted the three-plane universe as the 
natural and only non-mathematically conceivable 
universe; but, we ought to be prepared to confess 
that such a universe may be lifted to an enormous 
degree by such an arbitrary restriction, for a uni- 
verse which is infinite, as most of us concede it to 
be, may (nay, must) have infinite dimensions. 
When, therefore, I bring up the subject of a fourth 
dimension, I want to make it clear that the 4th is 
only a token of a possible 5th, and 6th, and 7th, and 
so on. The fourth dimension, when we attain it, 
will simply be a further door out of which we can 
look upon the cosmos-another window "opening up 
on the foam of perilous seas and faery lands for- 
lorn." Reality must be won, grade by grade, wall 
by wall, like some inaccessible rampart. Once the 
limitations of our three dimensions are overcome, 
the limitations of four dimensions will be overcome 
likewise-and more easily, for we shall then have 
learned the use of a new and adequate instru- 
mentality-our psychic senses. To gain a conception 
of Reality by way of our physical senses and intelli- 
gence is like trying to measure the distances of suns 
with compass and rule. 
Psycho-Cosmology espouses the doctrine of an 
infinite universe, an nth-dimensional cosmos. It be- 
lieves that we are but at the very beginning of 
revelations of the world over. As Claude Bragdon 
says, "everything which is to us transcendental 
exists nevertheless in some space. It is therefore 
possible that, by an intention of consciousness, we 
may be able to first comprehend, then to perceive as 
real, that which is now considered transcendent. To 
the grub, working its way up to the surface of the 
earth, that surface is transcendental; to the cater- 
pillar, a later stage, the earth is real, and the free 
air becomes the transcendental; while to the butter- 
fly, master of an added dimension, the threshold has AND THE FOURTH DIMENSION 
195 
again receded,"-as it has for man. And so, the 
plane beyond the air becomes for us the transcend- 
ental. 
Bragdon further believes that it is possible, by 
what he likes to call an "intention of consciousness" 
upon the fourth dimension, to push back gradually 
the psycho-physical boundary and capture, for sense, 
the now transcendental fourth dimension. This, the 
development of the psychic senses alone can make 
possible, I believe. This is the answer to the prob- 
lem which must have risen in the mind of every 
fourth dimensionalist: how can we overcome the 
limitations of our three dimensional world? No 
doubt Bragdon himself, conceiving the possibility 
of a fourth dimension, confessed to an inability ever 
to get to it. Psycho-Cosmology offers the solution. 
It is indeed impossible to hope to cope with the vast 
complex-simplicity of a universe, such as ours is, 
aided only with the puny senses and still punier in- 
telligence with which we are endowed. But the 
psychic senses, derived from the subconscious, and 
being indeed part of the cosmos, will be able to 
know that cosmos. No consciousness can ever aspire 
to know it. One might as well claim that a moth, 
hailing a star, and desiring to get it, will eventually 
do so. 
It is clear that our knowledge arises from con- 
sciousness, and that consciousness, as Bragdon says, 
is everywhere and always conditioned by the vehicle 
of physical perception. It follows, therefore, that 
our knowledge is limited, and if not absolutely 
false, must be very unreliable. As set forth in the first 
chapter of this book, where attainment of absolute 
truth is not possible, all other intermediary cer- 
titudes become, as a consequence, deniable. We can 
never be sure of the world we live in until we have 
broken down all barriers of sense and intelligence, 
and seek to know Reality through the confirming 
instrumentality of the subconscious-the psychic 
senses. 196 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
To show the logicality of a fourth dimension, 
Bragdon reasons on an hypothesis of a two- 
dimensional universe, and shows what conception a 
"two-space man" would have of such a universe. 
He says that such a two-space man "would come 
to conceive that the conditions of his existence 
demanded the presence of an extended wall of 
matter everywhere in contact with the objects of his 
world. He would infer also that these objects must 
have an imperceptible thickness in the higher dimen- 
sion-that they might indeed conceivably (though 
invisibly to him) extend away into it. What 
seemed to him to be solids of his world might be, in 
fact, two-dimensional boundaries or cross-sections 
of three-dimensional solids in, or passing through, 
his space, in the same manner that in his world a 
one-dimensional line would be recognized as the 
boundary or cross-section of a two-dimensional 
square. Reasoning along these lines, he might con- 
clude that he himself was but a two-dimensional 
cross-section of some three-dimensional body, the 
corporeal part of a higher being inhabiting three- 
dimensional space; and the sublime faith might 
grow up in him that his unified consciousness had 
its home in planes of existence the nature of which, 
by his physical limitation to two dimensions, he 
would not be aware. If this train of reasoning is 
logic for a twospace man, exactly analogous sup- 
positions may be formed by us with regard to four- 
dimensional space. We have a right to infer that 
our space is, as it were, an interval, a gap, in higher 
space. We may believe that there is a direction 
extending at right angles to every direction we 
know, and that our world and everything in it is 
sustained and environed by this boundary . . We 
may suppose that in some way unknown to us, all 
the objects of our world have an infinitesimal "thick- 
ness" in the higher dimension, that they are in 
reality three-dimensional projections or cross-sec- AND THE FOURTH DIMENSION 
197 
tions of higher solids traversing our space. We may 
conclude, indeed, that our physical bodies are such 
projections of higher bodies-still our own-and 
that OUR ESSENTIAL SELVES HAVE THEIR 
HOME IN PLANES OF BEING, OF THE NATURE 
OF WHICH, BY THE LIMITATIONS OF OUR 
CONSCIOUSNESS, WE CANNOT BE AWARE. 
The distinction between personality and individu- 
lity implied, if not actually made, by Bragdon should 
be noted. Personality may pass away, perish. But 
individuality endures. Psychical Research has tried 
to prove not the persistence of personality as the 
persistence of individuality-or, at least, that is 
what I believe Psychical Research has tried to do. 
And we can very well believe in the immortality of 
the individuality, when we consider that the indi- 
viduality is the subconsciousness seeking incarnation 
in a consciousness; an ocean seeking outlet in a 
tributary. When the waters in a tributary are 
prevented from flowing on, they return to the 
mother sea; so when consciousness ceases, the in- 
dividuality passes back into the subconsciousness, 
only to seek again another consciousness in which 
it may operate. And this constant seeking for incar- 
nation is necessary, because only upon the contact 
of the subconscious plane with the phenomenal 
plane, will the psychic senses arise to experience the 
world; only when the subconscious is confirmed in 
its innate knowledge of Reality, by way of the 
psychic senses, which shall be in contact with the 
world, can Reality be known. 
If personality, as Bragdon so well argues, is the 
projection on the physical plane of the individuality 
or higher self, a single individuality might project 
himself in many different personalities, separated 
from one another in intervals of what we know as 
time. Reincarnation may thus be conceived as the 
successive representations of a transcendental self. 
Consciousness being personal, subconsciousness (or 198 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
what some chose to call latent consciousness) is 
universal. And if personal consciousness arises as 
a result of the contact of the psychic individuality 
with the phenomenal plane, then life is none other 
than this, and death resolves itself into a passing 
out of the psyche (the individuality) from the stage 
of personal, phenomenal existence. 
Now, the vaster our realm of conquered space, 
the more numerous the dimensions in which we can 
operate, the longer will individuality endure in per- 
sonality, and hence, what we know of as life will 
become of greater term. To know Reality is to 
know endless life. And this is what the individuality 
is seeking-to know Reality, and thereby, to push 
death back further and further, until individuality 
becomes permanent in personality, and immortality 
is achieved. 
We have been conquering space and time all along. 
Centuries ago, Europe and America, for example, 
were many months apart; later on, the distance 
could be spanned in so many days. Today the whole 
world of space is practically subdued to an instant 
by means of our wireless. Thus we see how time 
and space, the twin illusions which we have set up 
to help us understand the world, and which proved 
barriers, in a sense, are being removed bit by bit. 
Now, what is perceived simultaneously does not need 
to involve the conception of time altogether, but, 
"a mole surveying a hole would require time in 
which to do it. Therefore, that which is time to 
a lower grade of consciousness is space to us. There- 
fore, a higher grade of consciousness than ours, 
seeing all things simultaneously, would not require 
the conditions of time altogether. Therefore, the 
extension of our dimensions involves an elimination 
of time, as well as a diminution of space. This may 
be said to be the result of a cutting up of space. 
Reality is beyond space and time. Hence, only an 
instantaneous vision can know it. Such an instan- AND THE FOURTH DIMENSION 
199 
taneous vision is what psycho-cosmology offers in 
the theory of the subconscious senses. 
If, as philosophers affirm, says Bragdon, the 
visible world exists only in and for consciousness, 
if it is but the "perception of a perceiver", then for 
each conscious person there exists a different world. 
It follows logically, then, that these countless per- 
sonal consciousnesses in which the three-dimensional 
perception of the world inheres may be thought of 
as so many three spaces going to form a higher or 
four-dimensional unity; i.e. the consciousness of 
humanity as a whole. For it is clear that humanity 
is higher dimensional in relation to the individual 
man, if we consider humanity in its totality. It has 
powers of which no single human being alone 
possesses. It is both old and young-and yet death- 
less. It is in all places at once, it sees all objects, 
hears all sounds, thinks all thoughts, experiences 
all sufferings, all delights. Now suppose a man to 
dwell constantly in the thought of this humanity, 
to identify all his interests with its larger interests, 
is it not thinkable that he might transcend the 
personal limitations and merge himself into the 
larger consciousness of which, indeed, he has all the 
while been a part?" V 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
AND THE NEW WAY TO TRUTH 
EVERYTHING physical stems from the psychical. 
Everything psychical stems from the subcon- 
scious. Everything subconscious stems from the 
cosmic. Thus, every physical manifestation in the 
cosmos traces back ultimately to the original 
dynamo-the cosmos itself. This theory or principle 
of derivation is universally applicable. The origin 
is always present in the final aspect: 
"There is no death. Daybreak is of the dark. 
The glow of vanished star-streams and old skies 
Still shines immortally from out of our eyes!" 
We are not ends. We are emanations. We derive 
our energies from a source outside ourselves, as 
from planets of their suns. 
The principle of derivation may readily be illus- 
trated by taking a familiar instance-the electric 
light. One who beholds the electric light for the 
first time would conclude that the generating power 
resided in the bulb. Such a person could not con- 
ceive that power might travel through a wire any 
distance from its resident source and be subjected 
at that end to almost instantaneous use. Yet, as we 
all know, this is exactly what takes place. The 
electric light traces back, if need be, to a battery or 
dynamo miles and miles away. And it is evident 
that we, by the turning of a key, the pulling of a 
string, the pressing of a button, call upon energies 
from remote sources. Now this battery or dynamo 
-where does it, in turn, derive its power? Does it 
200 AND THE NEW WAY TO TRUTH 
201 
not resort to another resident source, outside of it- 
self, and remoter? Exactly! And that other res- 
ident source is electricity. Now, how is electricity 
itself derived? From what mysterious source is it 
called forth and harnessed to the uses of man ? Is 
it not by the gathering together of the invisible 
potentialities resident in the air. Do we not derive 
electricity, in a word, by drawing on the universal 
currents, the free cosmos ? 
It is the same with life: man draws his susten- 
ance from other animals and from plants. Plants 
draw their nourishment from minerals in the earth 
and from the energies in the air, fed by the great 
sun. The sun, in turn, as well as all physical heaven- 
ly bodies, draws its heat and energies from the 
ultimate source: the cosmos. 
Now, though it is true that everything physical 
traces back ultimately to everything cosmic, and is 
a part of the cosmos, the physical is not of the 
nature of the cosmic. That is to say, the physical, 
being removed so many degrees or levels from the 
cosmic, can only approach the cosmic through inter- 
mediaries, and thus can never be said to know the 
cosmic directly. That is why consciousness, which 
operates only in the field of the physical, cannot 
know truth, except as it immerses itself or become 
identical with the subconscious. Each level, indeed, 
can only set up a "rapport" with the next nearest 
level. Thus, the physical may only communicate or 
get in touch with the psychic; the psychic in turn 
may only know the subconscious; the subconscious 
alone may know intimately the cosmic. The sub- 
conscious, indeed, being in direct touch with the 
cosmic, and interflowing with it, may be considered 
as identical with the cosmic. 
Now, every physical impression received by the 
conscious has its counterpart impression in the 
when we behold an object, we behold it with our 
subconscious, through the psychic. That is to say, 202 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
consciousness and with our subconsciousness-with 
our physical eye as well as with our psychical eye. 
The limitations which physical perception suffers 
in the consciousness, however, does not exist for the 
psychical senses in the subconscious. Thus, what 
the physical senses catch but partially (and they 
catch everything partially, perforce) the psychical 
senses know wholly. The physical sense is necess- 
arily limited to impression, and to what Claude 
Bragdon calls the "intention of consciousness." The 
psychical sense, on the other hand, is limited. If, 
for example, I see anything physical with my 
physical eye-a mountain or a forest, for example- 
I may get, at most, a photographic image of it. Not 
so with the psychical eye, which gives one a dynamic 
impression of it-which KNOWS the mountain or 
forest for what it really is. So if, looking out to 
sea, the physical eye catches the outlines of a ship, 
everything in the ship, on it, and around it. 
The psychical eye never gets a partial view as does 
the physical eye, because, by its very nature, the 
psychical eye pierces to the truth, and the time and 
space limitations therefore do not exist for it. The 
partial data given by the physical sight are irradi- 
ated into the subconscious by the psychical sight, so 
that the whole essentiality of the object stands 
revealed. One might call this power of the psychic 
as the "irradiation into the subconscious of physical 
impressions." 
Now, the physical eye has been storing up in the 
consciousness of sun far away and near, which are 
known to us now merely as specks of light in the 
firmament. We know enough, however, to realize 
that these specks of light represent enormous suns, 
and under telescopes we have been able to see more 
of these remote bodies than possible to the naked 
eye alone. The telescope, however, is simply a pro- 
jection of the physical eye, and carries on its limita- AND THE NEW WAY TO TRUTH 
203 
tions. We cannot, therefore, no matter how much 
we succeed in perfecting these instruments, 
attain to a knowledge of what we gaze upon and 
wonder at. For, as previously pointed out, no 
physical instrumentality can know a psychical 
entity. 
The physical eye is, indeed, the most powerful 
telescope of all, and it can trace to the very last 
detail in the remotest spheres, because the psychic 
eye, bathed in the subconscious stream, is thus of 
the nature of the cosmos. It does not function 
physically-a mode of operation as yet inconceivable 
to us. That is why nothing cosmic can remain 
hidden from or impervious to it. The fact that the 
psychic eye has this power of irradiation, this power 
to act dynamically, or rather, radio-actively upon a 
physical impression and unfold its essentiality in 
the subconscious, the essentiality which the physical 
cannot know, though it receive it, explains why the 
truth is passably to the intuitional levels, to the 
subconscious, which deals with life directly, whereas 
it may not be possible to the conscious. "All the 
great discoveries in science, all the great solutions in 
mathematics, have been the result of a flash of in- 
tuition.'' Now intuition is simply another name for 
that part of the subconscious which runs over into 
the conscious. Intuition is the spark that darts 
across from one level to the other. Intuition is a 
sort of momentary psychic vision. And psychic 
vision is permanent intuition. 
Psychic irradiation also explains how it is that 
the impression of a gleam of light from far-away 
suns, which in the consciousness remains but a 
gleam of light, may, in the subconsciousness, by the 
action of the psychic sense, unfold its essentiality 
until the whole mighty system which that part of 
light represented to us, is revealed. And that is 
why it is possible for man to know the uttermost 
ends of the cosmos, and to attain instantaneous 204 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
truth, which no acuteness and evolution of the 
conscious brain or senses may hope to attain in tens 
of thousands of years. And that is why the visions 
that I have had of other spheres, the things and 
people I have actually beheld there, the conversa- 
tions I have heard, are conceivable now to my con- 
scious mind, are indeed become at all intelligible. 
Since a youth, I have had these super-visions of 
other worlds, and only until I evolved this theory 
of psycho-cosmology was I able to explain to myself 
the possibility of such visions. These were not 
dreams as we popularly know them, not figments of 
the imagination, but stern visions into a palpable 
reality such as could admit of no doubt as to their 
actuality. When I would rouse myself out of the 
state of semi-consciousness in which the trance- 
vision held me, I would be aware of having delved 
only a little while ago into a source which was like 
nothing else experienced in the world. It was like 
taking a bath in a strange sea, whence one emerged 
completely rejuvenated. Or like being buffeted by 
divine winds. I know these visions to be genuine 
visions, true sight into a true reality, because they 
were so splendidly vivid, so unforgetable, so unlike 
all natural dreams or day fancies. It were as 
though I had come away from a city which I had 
just been to; as though indeed I had returned from 
The undiscov'd country from whose bourn 
No traveler returns . . . 
I have had these visions for many years, and 
until I evolved this theory of psycho-cosmology, 
nothing-no explanation of science or religion- 
would suffice me. I understood all along that there 
must be within me, as in all of us, some sort of 
sight which was as superior to our normal sight as 
day is to night; and that I could really see the 
goings-on of other w'orlds so plainly, so ungainsaidly, 
compelled me to believe that such insight could only AND THE NEW WAY TO TRUTH 
205 
be possible by reason of the possession of a sense 
which eliminated time and space considerations in 
its apperception; that was limited in no possible 
manner; that was cosmic; that was divine. And I 
knew that I had but the nucleus of such super-senses 
within me, because I knew that knowledge is infinite, 
and that if I already experienced visions of other 
worlds through a partially-developed psychic sight- 
sense, I might, by an "intention of consciousness" 
develop also the auditory and olfactory psychic 
senses, and catch harmonies and odors that would, 
for the first time, reveal the true music of the 
spheres-such harmony as is only in immortal souls. 
Now we have seen that the Perfection Urge tends 
towards the development within us of our poten- 
tialities. And the infinite potentialities within us 
are of this nature, that they seek constantly to 
attain to the level of the cosmic. The Urge of Per- 
fection, therefore, administers inherently to our 
cosmic progression, just as by an "intention of con- 
sciousness" upon our betterment, we administer to 
it from without. Repressions, we have seen, are a 
stop to the forward-tending impulses, to the per- 
fection urges arising in the subconscious. Re- 
pressions have been found to block the development 
of the psychic senses; they are therefore stumbling 
stones in the way to truth, they prevent our re- 
winning of the cosmos. Just as civic perfection will 
find attainment in a workable internationalism, so 
psychic perfection will find its fulfilment in a kind 
of universal inter-vitalism, wherein communication 
of souls throughout the cosmos will be natural and 
simple. 
The way to truth is only possible through the 
subconscious. Let us not forget this. We may grow 
more intelligent, we may become more scientific, but 
the truth will be as far from us as ever. Not thus 
can we attain to the conquering of Reality. The 
subconscious, on the other hand, being in flow with 206 
PSYCHO-COSMOLOGY 
the cosmos, by no effort at all, is already in 
possession of truth. And the use of the psychic 
senses, when they develop to their full stature, will 
be mainly one of confirming the subconscious in its 
great possession. By experiencing truth, the 
psychic senses will re-assure the subconscious in its 
knowledge, just as, by witnessing the performance 
of a play, we "pin down" the story we may have only 
read in book form. Truth must not only be known 
or possessed; it needs to be experienced and thus 
repossessed. What is implicit must be made ex- 
plicit. The divinity in us can only awaken at the 
contact of a divinity outside of us. 
In drawing the book to a close I desire to say 
that the hints I have thrown out here are by way 
of introducing a subject whose possibilities are 
numberless as they may prove astonishing. I know 
that I am but at the gateway to an enchanted 
domain, where the most glorious fruits of our souls' 
desires await us. 
There is no mistaking, let me repeat, this super- 
vision potential within all of us, because time and 
again I have experienced it. Some years ago, when 
I first gave heed to the "still small voice" within, and 
concentrated on the area around the star Sirius, I 
began to see rivers and forests such as I never, in 
my most fanciful imaginings, beheld before; later I 
saw canals, houses, bridges, architecture-all of an 
amazing and well nigh indescribable grandeur. Later 
I beheld the animals and the inhabitants themselves. 
I remember a temple I have seen there-it is as 
vivid to me at this moment as though I had just 
seen it across the street. Indeed, I have too accurate 
and vivid a recollection of these visions to feel doubt- 
ful about their nature or their source. And I believe 
that thousands of us have the beginnings of similar 
psychic vision prompting us from within. I believe, 
if enough of us spoke of these things, did not fear to 
confess them and notes were then compared, we AND THE NEW WAY TO TRUTH 
207 
might begin to put the phenomena on something 
like a scientific basis. 
My theory of psycho-cosmology is an attempt to 
grapple with one of the mysteries of our lives. As 
a pioneer effort, it confesses to have given at best 
only suggestions rather than proofs. But I shall be 
satisfied if what I have written here will stir other 
thinkers to go further than I have in this direction. 
The visionary powers of the soul are a million-fold 
times greater than the dynamic powers of the soul. 
And the dynamic powers of the soul are astonishing, 
as we know. 
Psycho-Cosmology will help us, I am convinced, 
to rediscover our divinity as no other science has 
or may. For it offers the key to our ultimate self- 
revelation. Through a complete unfolding of the 
subconsciousness, by way of the psychical senses, 
wq may yet go riding over the universe in that 
golden chariot of stars of which the poets sing. 
The psychic forces of ages and ages drive us ever 
onward towards fulfilment-for the centre of per- 
fection never rests. They strive to reunite us to the 
infinite, just as the scattered nuclei in the heavens 
seek again union with the universal tide, whence 
they sprung. We are pushing from cosmic origins 
to cosmic finalities, never repeating ourselves, never 
retreating, never faltering for long, going forward 
even when we are going backward, and always 
arriving at a more intimate knowledge of our souls. INDEX 
Abrahams, Dr. K 113 
Adler, Dr. Alfred 17, 19, 21, 22, 23, 24 
Atomic Theory _4 143 
Aura 132, 144 
Auto Eroticism 11, 12 
Association Test - - 6 
Barnard 89 
Besant, Annie 84 
Beresford, J. D 14 
Blavatsky, Madame 90 
Bragdon 195, 196, 197, 202 
Brittan, Dr. S. B 144 
Breuer ...... 2 
Brill, Dr. A. A 8 
Brittan . 144 
Brooks, Van Wyck 15 
Browning . _ 191 
B rugs on, Henri _ 70 
Burrow, Dr. T 8, 59, 60, 69 
Cannon, Professor ...... 131 
"Censor" . 49, 50, 51 
Child Sex Life _ 11, 51 
Complex 3, 17, 41, 63, etc. 
Christian Science 100 
Darwin 11, 36, 150 
Day Dreams - . 15, 55 
Dreams 5, 7, 42, 61, 86, 87, 92 
Ellis ... 11, 80 
English Psychoanalysts 62 
209 210 
INDEX 
"Erotic Motive in Literature" 15 
Elan Vital . 127, 183, 188 
"Ego Consciousness" _ 18 
Evolution 36, 150, 189 
Fear, a poison „ 131 
Ferenczi, Dr. S. * 49 
Fixation „ 113 
Freud x 1, 5, 24, 25, 42, 44 
Fechner, Dr _ 141, 172, 178 
Frink 56, 76, 175 
Haberman 60, 104 
Henley ...» _ 188 
Hug-Hellmuth, Dr. H. von . 12 
Hypnosis _ ... 5 
Inferiority Complex ... 17, 18, 115 
Incest 37 
InsomJnia .... 89 
Intuition ... 203 
Interpretation of Dreams 43 
Imoda . _ 144 
James _ . 100 
Jeliffe, D(r. S. E. ..... 8, 138 
Jones, Dr. Ernest 76 
Jung, Dr. Carl G 2, 5, 6, 26, 27, 31 
Kant 167, 192 
Keller, Helen 106 
Kempff, Dr. E. J, 8 
Lay, Wilfred 12 
Leadbeater, C. W. * - 101 
Le Bon, Gustave 120 
Libido, .28, 29, 56, 68 
Lodge, Sir Oliver 143, 148 
Loeb x 123 211 
McDonald, Professor 131 
Meyers 179 
"Miss Miller" 28, 32 
Muensterberg, Professor •• 104 
Neurasthenia - --.87, 116 
Neurosis 17, 18, 21, 111, 112, 115, 135, 179 
"Neurotic Constitution" - - 17 
Normal Type - 6 
Oedipus Complex .......15, 52, 117, 211 
"Ordeal of Mark Twain" ~- 15 
Onanism 12 
Ouspensky 138 
Pasteur - - 127 
Perfection Urge - 205 
Peterson - - - 9 
Plato 168 
Phobias .. 3, 112 
Prince, Dr. Neviton 105 
Psychic Energy _ 120, 124, 130 
Psychic Senses 168, 170 
Psychic Surgery _ 2 
"Psychoanalysis and the Novel" 14 
Psycho Cosmology 151, 159, 165 
Psychopatherapy „ 101, 102, 103 
Putnam, J. J _ 8 
Radio-activity _ 143 
Reaction - 6 
Repressions 4, 40, 55, 69, 137, 177 
Royce 191 
Sadism - - 12 
Schelter ♦ - ■■ 146 
Schopenhauer - 178 
Sex Symbolism 63, 61 
Sex Urge ♦ - - - 38 
Simon, Dr. Carleton ._ 89 
INDEX 212 
INDEX 
Solomon, Dr. Myer 72, 75 
So. California Association of Applied Psychology... 8 
Stimulus _.:1 6 
"Studies in Hysteria" _ 3 
Special Definitions 152, 153, 154 
Subconscious 4, 5, 6, 9 
Teleology 1'3 
"Totem and Taboo" 13 
Transfer 173 
Von Hartman - 178 
Wish Fulfilment 19, 64, 65 
Worcester, Elwood 101, 102