si A' ,/^^ ■|p* MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT The Psychoanalysis of Spiritism BY WILFRID LAY, Ph.D •■/ Author of ** Man's Unconscious Conflict," "The Child's Unconscious Mind," and "Man's Unconscious Passion" . I * * * < NEW YORK DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 1921 EDUC. PSYCH. LIBRARY COPYEIGHT, 1921, Br DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, INO. PREFACE From the point of view indicated in Chapter III, namely that the energy expended by psychics and psychical researchers, in attempting to prove im- mortality and the various other phenomena, is a conscious desire prompted by an unconscious fear, and is therefore an activity really not in line with the constructive employment of the libido, it will be evident that I approach the discussion of spiritistic phenomena with a certain natural reluctance; be- cause I do not wish to be accused of an undue in- terest in either the validity or the invalidity of the alleged proofs. On a subject in which all my unconscious desire would be centred, if consciousness permitted me to know that a proof was available, I do not, from one point of view, wish to be heard at all. But it has seemed to me that enough importance, to make it wholly worth while, attaches to the question which one might, as a student of psychoanalysis, put to the psychical researchers, namely. How can you say so confidently that such and such things have happened when we really, as yet, know so little about the part played in all these phenomena by the unconscious wishes of the medium and of the ob- servers? CONTENTS PART I. CONSCIOUSNESS PAGE I The Stream of Consciousness 13 1. The Feeling of Reality 20 2. Meaning 22 3. Degrees of Reality Feeling 23 4. Feeling of Sameness 25 5. Deja Vue 26 6. Absence of Sameness 28 7. Peculiarity of Sameness 29 8. Feelings Are Sensations 31 9. Reality Feeling an Internal Sensation . . 34 10. The Panorama 36 11. Hallucinations 39 12. Reality Feeling and Images 41 13. The Feelings and the Emotions .... 42 14. Complexity of Consciousness 44 15. Feeling of Reality Detachable .... 47 II Emotions 56 1. Emotions Contribute Energy .... 57 2. Emotions Indefinite .59 3. Emotions and Unity of Function ... 60 4. The Objective Situation 62 5. The Conflict 63 6. Fear^. ... 65 r» "^ PART II. THE UNCONSCIOUS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS III Psychoanalysis .73 1. Ignorance About Psychoanalysis ... 74 ^2. Spiritism and Love 75 7 CONTENTS PAQB 3. What Psychoanalysis Is Not 76 4. Repression 78 '5. The Medium 86 <^(;^^S^nconscious Trends ....... 87 IV The Unconscious as an Urge 93 1. Resistance to Knowledge 93 2, Complexity 99 ^---^'Non- Conscious Ideas and Feelings . . . 101 i .„4.-^Reassociation of Ideas 106 5. Occurrence 107 6. Current Conscious Psychology .... 114 i-TT^^" The Unconscious an Hypothesis .... 117 8. An Illustration 118 ^ 9. Accidents 121 10. Another Illustration 123 11. Magnification 130 12. Limit on Size . . t 134 13. Fission and Fusion 136 14. The Unconscious as Omnipercipient . . . 138 ^.„^^) The Medium as Unconscious 141 (16. Unconscious Wishes 143 V Mechanisms 147 1. Association 147 2. Humans Subject to Natural Law . . . 151 3. Personality . 153 4. 'Unconscious Memory 157 5. Earliest Sensations 160 6. Intro jection 161 7. Projection 165 8. Animism ^ 168 9. Attitude Toward Departed 170 10. Science and the Reality Feeling . . . 171 11. Science and Projection 173 12. Reality Thinking and Life 176 13. The Reality Feeling vs. Reality Thinking . 178 14. ^ Unconscious Perceptions 181 15. Reading Mechanisms 182 CONTENTS 9 PAGB 16. The Unconscious Combination of Ideas . . 187 . 17. Miracles 189 18. Desire for the Extraordinary .... 191 19. Desire for Excitement ... . . . . 193 20. Transference 195 VI Unconscious Emotions and Will . . . . . 201 1.' The Conflict-Split Character 201 2. The Postural Tonus 202 3. Emotion a Change of Relation .... 204 4. Repression 207 5. Repression and Conflict 209 6. Emotion Unceasing 212 7. Emotion and Health 215 8. Fear 216 9. Will 218 10. Will and Emotion 220 ,11, Images and Will 224 12. Recalling a Name ........ 226 13. Freedom of the Will 232 14. The Unconscious Will 232 15. Summary 235 16. Telepathy 237 ^ .- 17. Pleasure-Pain vs. Reality Principle . . . 240 PART III. THE UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT VII Belief Before Knowledge 247 1. Belief 247 2. Fear of Death 248 3. Continuousness of Urge 251 4. Verbal Expression 256 5. Belief and Wish 259 6. Sadistic Wish 260 7. Spiritism and War 263 VIII Knowuedge Above Belief 265 1. Ambivalence 265 2. A Mental Microscope 266 10 CONTENTS PAGB 3. The Neurotic 268 4. .The Normal Compulsion 271 5. The Taboo 271 6. The Totem 273 7., 'Spirit" a Projection 275 8. Repression of Mating Instinct .... 279 9. Belief Is Not Knowledge 284 IX Man's Unconscious Spirit 286 1. Divisions of Psychical Research 286 2. Unwarranted Inferences 288 3. Narrowing of Consciousness . . . . . 291 4. Transfer of Reality Feeling 294 (^^_^^ Relativity of Images 297 X Scientific Investigations 300 1. The Personal Factor in Science .... 300 2.^^Exclusion of Unconscious Factor . . . 303 3. Belief a Wish 307 4. Dr. Q.'s Case 311 5. Elsa Barker 315 6. The Value of Phantasy 321 XI Present Status 325 1. The Medium's Material Reward .... 325 2. Physical Manifestations 326 3. What Is "Spirit"? 327 4. Quality of Content 328 5. Infantility in Civilized Spirit World . . 331 6. Reality Thinking 334 t PART I CONSCIOUSNESS MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT CHAPTER I THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS If at the end of a busy day we reflect upon what have been the day's experiences, we are struck with the constant change of sensations, from sight to sound, to touch, to taste, to smell, to pleasure, to pain, and so on incessantly. The busiest days in which we hurry from one detail of routine to an- other or pass from one exciting scene into another, leave no opportunity for imagination. When rest finally comes, we find ourselves thinking over the many incidents and, like the flickerings of a dying fire, our memories spontaneously flash into con- sciousness, and then vanish, in an apparently in- coherent manner. Like a string still vibrating, after we have set it in motion by our day's activities, j (^ our minds naturally reverberate the events of the j day, and we finally prepare our minds for sleep. We might say that during the day we have sen- sations of various kinds, and, at the end of it, memories, that have come to us in our moments of relaxation. For some people the easiest thing in the world to do is to sit and day-dream. This habit is formed early in life, but, even in later life, when the de- 13 14 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIKIT mands of the environment are so exacting that we have to exercise control over our thoughts as vigor- ously as we can, the natural relaxation, which has however in some highly trained minds become prac- tically impossible, is to let our thoughts come on, as they will, a process which in the general run of people, takes place through the medium of desultory conversation. In all the trains of thought there are apparent gaps, breaks, incoherences, the causes of which will later become apparent to the reader. f If we relax our thoughts to the utmost, which can I best be done alone or with some completely trusted person, and examine the stream of ideas, which comes of its own accord, without any effort on our part, we may notice, if we take the trouble to ob- serve, that these ideas are now visual, now auditory and again have other qualities, different from either of these. The different qualities of consciousness are, to careful introspection, much more numerous than the ordinarily accepted " five '^ senses. What I shall have to say about the specifically different qualities of consciousness applies equally to sensations and ideas. But before attempting to enumerate and name these different qualities which consciousness, whether idea or sensation, presents, we shall have to make a distinction between idea and sensation and discuss two theories about them. When I look at an object, and all my attention is centred on the visual appearance of it, I may say that my consciousness is mainly, if not entirely, visual in quality. It yet may have elements of THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 15 other qualities in it, interspersed in temporal sequence, with brief periods of existence. But though these others, the sounds, smells, touches and innumerable feelings of all kinds exist in the stream, they are so brief as to be insignificant, and may be likened to the cessations in impulse between the alternations of an electric current. When I hear music, at an orchestral concert, for example, and fix my eyes upon some single point, as the conductor's score, and the whole concert room becomes an indefinite blur of light, my conscious- ness is mainly, if not entirely, a consciousness of sound. If then the music stops and I look at my companion's face, my consciousness may be said to change from an auditory to a visual quality. Thus my consciousness changes all day long, as I go through the multitude of the day's experiences, from one sense quality to another. At times the stream of consciousness, as I see it ^ in my own case, is like a thread on which are strung / various coloured beads. If the stream of conscious- ness is mainly visual (most of the beads being one colour, say white), there may be a bead or two of some other colour or colours between the white ones. But as these beads pass at the rate of a hun- dred or so a second, the presence of a blue bead in a white section is naturally not noticed. Or if we say auditory sensations are represented by blue beads, then a few white ones interspersed with the blue would hardly be noticed. At other times the stream of consciousness is like a number of such 16 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT strings of beads, each a different colour, from one of which strings the attention goes to another, while yet the bulk of them are fancied to be in con- sciousness all the time, because the transitions from one to another are so instantaneous. This is a series of changes in quality. But there is also another change, which might be called a quantity change. The actual sight of one thing may become so subsidiary and unimportant for me that it becomes less in intensity than a mere visual thought. An example of this is the familiar phe- nomenon observed in silent reading, where the actual sight of the printed page has less visual validity than the visual images that are evoked in the reader's mind by the description he is reading. In this case the visual mental image may blot out entirely the sight of the page, although the reading goes on automatically, the pages are turned and the reader is oblivious of all except the scenes of the story he is reading. I think he may truly be said then to be conscious only of the subjective phan- tasy which the actual printed page arouses in him, and to be quite unconscious of the occurrence of external stimuli to his sense organs of all types including the visual stimuli of the black letters on the white page. His consciousness may therefore be not only visual in quality, but at times auditory or any other. It is also subjective in quantity. The visual images are obviously not the only quality of subjective consciousness that we have, for we have in our mind's ear at times the sounds THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 17 of nature, of musical themes ; we may also have in mind the odours of the country or the city and the mental images, as I shall call these subjective in- tensities of the same quality, for every different quality of objective consciousness. Thus we ride up in an express elevator and re- ceive actual impressions of pressure on our joints and of translation through space coming from the semicircular canals of the ears ; we ride down in a fast elevator and feel the very peculiar sensation of a sudden and gradually diminished fall, as the elevator slows; and later, when thinking about it, we have mental images of the rise and the fall. We have other sensations coming both from with- out the body and within it, sensations different from the ordinary five senses and really amounting in number of specific qualities to over twenty. In addition to these we have not only sight and sound and joint pressure and translation, but all the other qualities, in that diminished intensity not con- nected with external stimuli occurring at the time, an intensity I have referred to above as the mental image. My own experience and that of many other persons I have interrogated is that most of the sen- sations actually experienced may be later revived in the shape of mental images, so that it will easily be conceivable by any one, even if he has noticed the images in himself, that they are possible, at least, as occurrences in the conscious life of others, who may be more introspective. I am obliged to admit that there are persons 18 MAN^S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT who not only say they have no mental images, but also maintain that others cannot possibly have them. I confess I do not understand their argu- ments any more than I should understand the argu- ment of a man born blind, who tried to convince me that there is no such sense as sight, for I feel that it is a poor argument, and that it is frequently illogical to try to prove a negative statement. Whether those persons who deny the existence of mental images have them or not, they must have conscious memories, that come to their minds in some shape; and my experience is that they come now in one sense quality and now in another, in constant succession, interspersed with impressions of external origin, a stream ever changing in qual- ity and intensity. Each quality, whether it be sen- sation or feeling, may have the intensity usually associated with the reality feeling (see Sec. 1) and be regarded as an objective truth. A hallucination is therefore the occurrence of an image, or series or group of images, with the reality feeling. An illu- sion is the concurrence of an external sensation with an image, or of two or more external sensa- tions which interact upon each other in such a way as to arouse and lull the reality feeling, in asso- ciation with contradictory impressions, almost at the same time. The main divisions of the qualities of conscious- ness as I have observed them in myself are, as far as I am able to distinguish them, the following: THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 19 Qualities - Senses Feelings . 1. Sight 2. Hearing 3. Smell 4. Taste 5. Skin (Passive) 6. Pressure (Active) 7. Heat 8. Cold 9. Tendinous 10. Articular 11. Muscular 12. Hunger 13. Thirst 14. Sex 15. Dizziness 16. Nausea 17. Pleasure 18. Pain 19. Feeling of sameness 20. Feeling of Reality 21. Feeling of Will 22. Emotions jOu taneous / I should call different colours and shades of the same colour, also the various odours, etc., suh- qualities. My experience is that the feeling of sameness and the feeling of reality are qualities that may, under appropriate circumstances, occupy the focus of at- tention and thus be the only sense quality in con- sciousness for certain brief periods. As will later appear, this is a most important point in consider- ing the validity of the so-called proofs of the ex- istence of disembodied spirit. 20 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT § 1. The Feeling of Reality If we look long enough through a telescope at a detail of a distant scene, the reality of that scene is at its height at the beginning of the view, and diminishes toward the end on account of the re- peated visual impressions being unaccompanied by auditory and other ones. In looking at a stereo- scopic view there is a similar and very striking diminuendo in the internal sensation called in con- sciousness the feeling of reality. There is first a strong feeling of reality caused by the unusual- ness of the third dimension illusion in the photo- graph, as one notices, for instance, how clearly the man in the picture stands out from the background. But, after a few seconds, the feeling of reality pales rapidly, on noticing the motionlessness of the man. This paling of interest is due to the lack of the in- ternal sensations usually connected with a real sight. When they fail, interest is gone. In the moving pictures the movements maintain the feel- ing of reality quite strongly until there comes a " close up " of some one speaking, or of a dog bark- ing, when the feeling of reality is at once lessened, because the sound of the voice or of the dog's bark is not heard. The feeling of reality is just as different from the sense of sight, to take any sense at random, as sight is different from hearing. I have mentioned else- where the fact that part of the meaning of a sight is its sound value, another part of its meaning is its smell value or its taste value, its touch value — THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 21 value here being what associations of other sense qualities it has acquired and, as it were, made a part of itself. Similarly part of the meaning of a sound is its visual value or the sights associated with it. It is obvious that these values may be quite different for one person from what they are for another, depending on the different experience of the persons. The meaning for the internal sensations attained by a sight, a sound, a taste, a smell or a touch is sometimes its reality, sometimes its identity. It is inconceivable that any sense might not have a value acquired from any other sense, and that any sense does not have implicitly and unconsciously the value of all and each of the various internal sensa- tions, as they are all present all the time. That is, the strongest meaning of any sight for one person may be the sounds associated with it, for another the smells associated with it, for another the cuta- neous or kinesthetic sensations. An important source of meaning for odours is the internal or or- ganic sensations aroused by them. The meaning of a sight is sometimes built up of the auditory sensations of words associated with it. And the meaning of a word for a given individual consists of the visual, auditory and all other sensa- tions associated in his own mind with that particu- lar word and individual. This is why the same word has different shades of meaning for different I people, and why words are so unstable in their meaning while quite identical in their form. 22 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIKIT § 2. Meaning And the growth of society as an organism is partly dependent on these associations with words (which themselves are identical) being made up in the majority of people by preponderatingly similar groups of visual, auditory, etc., and organic sen- sations. Unless the word " thief '' was able to waken in the majority of people's minds an unpleasant or- ganic sensation, it would not mean what it does and people would not react toward it as they do. One can see the associations collect about a word that has not before had them, or which has lost them for centuries, e. g., the word " Hun," to which have been added as meaning, the organic reactions aroused by the Lusitania, by liquid fire, by poison gas, and many other acts which were designed by the Ger- man mind to arouse these organic reactions that they do and others, such as fear, which they do not. It is obvious, too, that the Hun himself, thinking so much about fear in the other fellow, must have counted it unconsciously very large in himself. Only because to his own soul would it make a com- pelling appeal, could he have thought it out as a motive force in others. As soon as the word " Schrecklichkeit " went around the world, one could have known that that was the way for the Allies, had they been so low-minded as to use it, to make the deepest impression on the mind of the Boche. What war meant to the allied mind is the emo- THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 23 tions aroused by a just war of defence. To the Allies war was warding or guarding, with all that implies both of what is warded off and what is guarded in the shape of the morally inalienable. The reality feeling, a variety of internal sensa- tion, associated with a sight, is no variation of the visual quality itself. The faint blue of distant mountains is just as real a sight, no matter how pale, as is the brilliance of a rose petal held near the eye. And the actual tone of the colour may be exactly reproduced in a coloured photograph or in a scene in a theatre. But the holding of the photo- graph in the hand, or the sitting in a badly venti- lated auditorium, are factors in the total situation which cause internal sensations, whether conscious or not, that diminish the sense of reality by being exceptions to that sense which we should have if we were sitting or walking in the country and looking at real distant mountains. The realness of the visual impression is measured only by the other impressions simultaneous with the visual. § 3. Degrees of Reality Feeling There are thus various categories or degrees of reality perceptible in connection with sight and de- pendent on the coexistence of fewer or more numer- ous internal sensations. The sight alone of a per- son who is standing, but motionless, has a degree of reality mediated through a feeling of sameness, a sameness with a previous visual impression that has been received simultaneously with other im- 24 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT pressions, sights, sounds and all the rest. This de- gree of reality feeling is augmented by the sight of his movements. If he were chopping wood and I could not hear the sound of his blows, even though he was within hearing, my sense of his reality would be altered, diminished. If I hear the blows, and hear him whistle or talk or sing, these are addi- tional factors in the total of the reality feeling, which receives quite a shock, if any one of these factors and many others, are lacking from the en- semble. Of course, there are persons whose reality contains the internal sensations from more of these physical factors than does that of others. Here emerges the relation between desire and reality, for reality, thus regarded, seems but the gratification of desire or of the unconscious wish. The reality of the particular individual cannot be other than the sum of the internal sensations as- sociated with the stimuli of his environment, re- actions which come to specific form only in pre- sentations and representations. These are deter- mined by his birth, bringing up and education and are the only means whereby he can judge the reality of his impressions. To the man with a physically defective eye, one who, for example, is colour blind, reality is different from that of an artist who, start- ing though he may with an innate weakness in col- our discrimination, has, by compensation of con- stant attention, so refined his sensibilities as to excel the average man. The world, to a hypothetical man who has a sense THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 25 not possessed by other men, say, for example, one that would enable him to read the mind of whomso- ever he chose, would be a world having more reality than the ordinary man^s world.; Thus we might truthfully say that the more senses the more reality, and that the perfectly real world would exist only to the omnipercipient, to coin a word on the analogy of omniscient, which does not seem to mean exactly what I have in mind. This implies that the more one knows about the world, the more real it is, and that the ignorant live in a world of unreality, as they " know so many things that aren't so." Actual reality, as distinguished from the purely subjective reality feeling here described, is the re- „, lation of cause and effect, extensity, intensity of things external to the ego, relations which are made manifest to the ego only when it thinks or perceives in accordance with the reality principle, to be more fully described in a later section (Chap. VI, Sec. 16). § 4. Feeling of Sameness The feeling of sameness includes the feeling of similarity, for similarity is but partial identity. The feeling of partial or complete identity is one that functions daily in all our discriminations and classifications and regulates our conduct hourly and our actions every second. It operates both in and out of consciousness, generally out, as when we / are sorting things, such as separating a pack of / cards into its four suits, where we are consciously 2G MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT absorbed in the external action of putting a heart with the other hearts, a diamond in the pile of diamonds, etc., and the feeling of sameness which governs our actions does not appear in conscious- ness. But, like any other feeling, this feeling can re- ceive the full light of cons*ciousness, as in certain discrimination tests. For example when we are given a number of pill boxes containing, some dif- ferent, and others the same, weight of lead, we are ^voluntarily attending to this feeling, as we lift now one, now another. The feeling of sameness bursts upon us with sur- prising force and apparently unconnected with ex- ternal experiences in the dejd vue situation. I have mentioned elsewhere the effect of the feel- ing of reality upon the opinions of men and the es- sential difference between the feeling of reality and the perception of the relations of things. It may be objected that the feeling of sameness also mentioned may be quite the same feeling as the feel- ing of reality, and that when we experience what I call the feeling of reality, we may be having a feeling of the sameness of this experience, in its es- sential feelings, with a previous experience. As a matter of fact, the two feelings are different, as is shown by the dejd vue experience, which, as it may not be familiar to every one, I will describe. § 5. Dejd Vue Many of us have had a sudden feeling that a sit- uation in which we find ourselves is the same as THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 27 one we have been in before, although we know that this could not possibly be the case. I am talking with some one whom I have never met before, in a place I have never been before, about something I have never before discussed, when suddenly I am Impressed with a feeling which I know to be con- trary to actual fact — a feeling which, for the mo- ment, gives me the impression that just now every- thing is a repetition, an exact replica, of a situation that I have been in before at some time. Theieel- ing of sameness in these so-called deja vue sit- uations is exceedingly strong for a brief period — a few seconds — but it in no way affects the feeling of reality, which remains constant throughout, maintaining itself through the multitudinous changes of sensations — from one colour to another, from sight to sound, etc., and back again. The reality feeling retains, I think, in the average hu- man, and particularly in the tough-minded type, a more even level of constancy than any other feel- ing. Only when something happens which is a sudden and catastrophic blow to our wishes, such as some rapid and stupendous loss, of a friend or a fortune or a life partner, does the feeling of reality fluctuate with huge undulations. Now we cannot believe the facts to be true, and now we cannot doubt the evidence of our senses and the corroborative force of many concomitant circumstances. Our wishes, conscious and unconscious, struggle in a seething mass with the feelings of reality, which are reani- 28 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT mated again and again by repeated stimuli from the external world. Thus, in the deja vue situation, the feeling of familiarity (or sameness), which is a specific feel- ing and like no other sense quality, i. e., is not sight or hearing itself, but is an internal sensation, had functioned without stimulus, or at any rate with- out the usual stimulus, but with another. Of course it is possible that in the situation felt as similar or identical, there may be enough elements, in different factors of the situation, that are similar / or analogous, to create a sort of summation of ( stimuli sufficient to evoke, in the internal sensa- tions, that reaction which is known to me as the feeling of sameness, and this, even though the actual situation is really different in other respects. /' The feeling of sameness and the feeling of reality \ are related in that there is a sameness experienced in the repeated functioning of the reality feeling occurring uniformly on perception of external stim- uli. The very existence of sameness might almost be said to be the backbone of the reality feeling. And, from another point of view, too, reality is measured by uniformity. The greatest degree of objective reality is dependent on universality or conformity to natural law. § 6. Absence of Sameness And the noticed absence of the feeling of same- ness gives a sense of unreality in the following situation. One wakes up in a room that one has THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 29 slept in for the first time. While it has been seen the night before, previous to going to sleep, there is for a moment no recognition of its being the same. It all looks strange and new. The internal sensa- \ tion that would ordinarily report the sameness has -^ not yet waked up. To recognize that the room is the same, one has to have the feeling of sameness -=-=- accompany the vision. But the feeling of sameness of visual sensations is not in the eye, for we have, / in this illustration, the visual sensation (which is the same) but we have it without the feeling of sameness, which is here evidently absent. There- fore the two sensations of sight and of sameness are i ^ qualitatively different and are not reported by the '^ same sense organ. The sajgae sensation reported by the same sense organ, or in other words, a repeated identical stim- .ulation, of the same external sense organ, does not constitute the feeling of sameness. It does, on the 1 contrary, have the effect of difference^ in the sense "" that presently there come no reports from the iden- tically stimulated organ. Consciousness leaves that organ and goes to some other, or to images, where the qualities may be different enough from each other to keep consciousness awake. § 7. Peculiarity of Sameness Thus we see that the sense of sameness is of a different conscious quality from that of sight or sound or any other external sense, because, in the two illustrations, the dejd vue situation and the 30 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT situation of waking up in a room and not knowing where we are, we find it isolated in two different ways. In the deja vue situation we find it operat- ing very strongly where the external situation is demonstrably different in at least a large propor- tion of its elements. We find it operating, that is, where there is no external reason for it to do so. In the other situation we find it failing to operate where the visual situation is exactly the same as it was when we were last conscious of it, and where we ordinarily experience it at once, and regularly. The usual happening is to wake up all at once, so to speak, and be impressed with the reality and sameness of the surroundings we were in when we went to sleep, but, waking up visually before we wake as regards our internal sensations of same- ness, we see at once that the feeling of sameness is no part of the visual quality, though it is, on ordi- nary occasions, taken as a part of it. It will be seen later that I make this independent functioning of the sameness feeling and the reality feeling, apart from actual external stimuli, an im- portant argument, in the case of observers at a spiritistic seance, against believing the apparent evidence of the senses. If the sense of reality can be separated, and actually is accidentally separated from external stimuli and attached to something else — some other conscious sense quality — it will be evidently one of the mechanisms by which the medium and the sitters succeed in deceiving them- selves. THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 31 § 8. Feelings are Sensations What I wish to make as plain as possible is the evident fact that all the feelings are sensations, and have as much right to be consulted about certain truths as do the other sensations. As qualities of consciousness, one of them is, to the impartial ob- server, as clear and distinct as the other. Actual truth, however, is not a matter of the qualities of the stream of consciousness, but a mat- ter of laws of relations of those qualities. In what follows I shall endeavour to show that the spiritist accepts as. actual truth the misinterpreted succes- sion of the qualities of his consciousness and makes on this basis deductions that are not valid in the sphere of thought in which the spiritist states they are valid. Thus I am willing to accept the state- ment of any spiritist that he saw (i. e., believed he saw) a table rise, or that he remembers certain things happening weeks or months ago; but I am not willing to accept his statement that if I, or some person who is even less than I under the influence of the unconscious, had been present, we should have seen the same thing. I know the large majority of spiritists are sincere and free from taint of fraud, which could be practised only by the unbeliever. But I also know that the interpretation of the various sense qualities of the individual who is present at a seance is a very delicate matter, and has not yet been subjected to adequate scientific tests with instruments of precision. By this I mean that the stream of consciousness ^ 32 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIKIT of the ordinary observer at a seance is composed of the two elements of subjective and objective sensa- tion mentioned above as mental image and sensa- tion. Also, to use an indispensable metaphor, the sensations themselves come into the mind both from the body and from the external world. Further- more the sensations coming from the body itself in- clude the only criterion possessed by humans by which to judge of the objective reality of any of the other sensations. In other words the only criterion used in the seance is an internal feeling (the reality feeling) which is exactly on a par, as far as objective reality is concerned, with any other internal feeling. Add to this that the internal feelings, emanat- ing solely from the individuaPs body itself, are in- clusive of the emotions and the wishes and the de- sires, and we can clearly see how difficult it is, even for the most coldly and critically scientific of us to disentangle from the welter of organic sensations, emotions, feelings of sameness, etc., the actual feel- ing of reality that belongs to the sight or the sound in question. And this would make things bad enough for the truth, if it were a matter of this subjective reality feeling, but, as I have just indicated, scientific truth is an observed and recorded relation between sensa- tions and is not a sensation itself. As I see and read about spiritistic phenomena, I observe more and more clearly that the accounts of them are really true enough accounts of the states of mind THE STKEAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 33 of the mediums and the observers. They certainly see what they see, and hear what they hear, and they tell us carefully what they see and hear. But I also see and hear wonderful things. I can see almost anything I wish to, in my mind's eye. I can hear anything I desire in my mind's ear, even melodies that have never been heard before by me or any one else, I can in my mind's tactual consciousness touch anything I want to, feel all de- grees of temperature, all sensations of motion, all excesses of pleasure or pain, in short, any experi- ence of whatever nature that I have had in the past or desire to have in the future, all by means ^ of the imagery which, apparently at will, I can evoke whenever I have the leisure. But I have no interest in reporting these images as scientific truths valid for any other consciousness than my own. That they are absolutely incontrovertible scientific proofs for my own consciousness, no one will, I am sure, attempt to deny. In resume then let me repeat that I know I have visual sensations and visual images. Also I have auditory sensations and auditory images, and sensations and images of all the twenty-odd quali- ties of consciousness mentioned in the list given above ; but I will use the visual quality as an illus- tration, requesting my readers to substitute for ^' visual " any and every one of the others. I know I have visual sensations, and that with each visual sensation that I judge to be caused by an external stimulus comes the feeling of reality. \l 34 MAN^S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT which is not a visual sensation at all, but an en- tirely different quality of consciousness. But the feeling of reality not only does not coexist with every visual sensation but also actually appears at times when there is no visual impression being made on my retina at all. Ordinarily the reality feeling is so regularly the concomitant of the actual visual sensation that it is felt as a part of the sen- sation itself, is fused with it and is not analysed out, as it is spontaneously in the dejd vue situation. But this and the day dream and the dream of the night show the reality feeling attaching itself to subjective sensations, to memories, to mental im- ages pure and simple. § 9. Reality Feeling an Internal Sensation As this reality feeling is, however, while not a subjective sensation, an internal sensation arising in my own body, I am forced to take other criteria for the actual external reality of the visual sensa- tion, if I wish to be scientifically sure of the ex- istence of the object itself. Not that I need to do this every time or even frequently. In fact, I need to do it only when the visual sensation is of some- thing that appears to violate the previously ex- perienced order of visual sensations. Then, if I see something that appears quite unprecedented or impossible, I automatically test it out with other sense impressions of other qualities. Finally, if I cannot understand it even then, and cannot ex- plain it to myself as an illusion of the sense of THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 35 sight, I have recourse to the opinions of other peo- ple and their observation and as a last resource to the instruments of precision of truly scientific research. In short, my reality feeling works pretty well in conjunction with vision in all the ordinary ex- periences of life. I believe it does also with other people and with other sense qualities of conscious- ness as well as vision. If every one else in the world were exactly like me in this respect, we should all be living contentedly the life of sensa- tions and perceptions and thoughts and images that has been lived by the majority of people for thou- sands of years. But from time immemorial there have always been people who have attempted to give objective validity to their visual and auditory images. Seers have seen visions and solitary hermits and others have heard voices, which means only that the feel- ing of reality has become detached from external sensation and, in more than ordinary intensity, has attached itself to some visual or auditory .image.__ The cause of this transfer of association from the association of feeling of reality with external visual sensation to the association of feeling of reality with a visual image (or its transfer from sensation to image in the auditory or any other quality) will be taken up in the second part of this book. Here, however, it should be said that in the nature of helief and in the relation which belief bears to the unconscious wish, there is an adequate and per- h 36 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT fectly comprehensible cause for the transfer, and that, given the unconscious, and the modes in which it operates, it is inevitable that in some persons it should not work out in attributing scientific reality to visual, auditory and other images, largely on account of a misunderstanding of what the term sci- entific reality means. The result, however, of this misunderstanding and misinterpretation has been the disagreement between the spiritist and the scientist. The former is virtually saying that the image, which I shall show later to be entirely the product of uncon- scious mental activity, and which is purely sub- jective 'in origin, is to be accepted as a scientific fact valid universally. On the other hand the sci- entist replies that it may be quite true that every one has visual and auditory images and also a feel- ing of reality, but the fact that A correlates his feeling of reality with certain of his visual images is no proof that B either will, or is obliged to, do the same thing. § 10. The Panorama A further description of the reality feeling should include the fact that it is in general an impression on the internal sense organs felt simultaneously with an impression made by an external stimulus on the external sense organs. When we see a real sight, that is, when we have a real external im- pression, we generally have it accompanied with the internal sensation I have called the reality feel- THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 37 ing. If it is a painting we are looking at, we are not deceived, that is, we do not have in connection with it, the feeling that it is an actual view, be- cause all the other visual impressions accompany- ing it are not consistent with its being, for example, a real country scene. The presence of a frame or, if it is unframed on an easel in a studio, the pres- ence of the other objects surrounding it, make it only a section of the total visual field. I remember my first visit to what w^as called a panorama, a huge painting on the inside of a cylin- der of canvas, the view of the top of which was cut off by the roof of the circular tower one entered, and climbed up to view this elaborate picture. The visitors could walk all around the balcony of this tower, and from any part of it they were approxi- mately equidistant, I believe about tAventy-five feet, from the painting. Thus this picture gave no sec- tional impression. It was skilfully painted and w^as supposed faithfully to represent what would be seen by a person at the " Surrender of York- town " or the " Siege of Paris," if he stood at a cer- tain point and turned about through all the points of the compass. But the picture, while it gave the general visual appearance of reality, failed to arouse the complete reality feeling for at least two reasons I shall mention. The total reality feeling includes a combination of sensations of different sense qualities, and the feeling that a sight is real depends for its integrity and completeness on the simultaneous functioning of the appropriate activi- 38 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT ties of hearing and touch, not to include all the other external senses, which contiibute each its share. The panorama lacked reality visually because, while I might imagine it to be real, if I stood still, the infinitesimal changes in relative position of the objects depicted, changes which would have taken place in reality, did not, if I moved, occur. For examj^le, two distant trees, which, if they had been real, my movement of three or four feet to the left would have placed one behind the other or would have shifted very slightly, did not move at all, and this lack of movement on the trees' part an- nihilated the reality feeling by immediately arous- ing in me the sense of something " queer " about the visual impression per se. To this was added the fact that the voices of the spectators who were with me on the " observation tower '' were reflected by the canvas, so that an auditory impression was present, which would not have occurred in the real place of the scene itself. Therefore in this picture, which was designed to awaken the reality feeling did so visually only in part, that is, when I kept absolutely motionless, and did not awaken that part of the total reality feeling which depends on sound. From an experience of out-doors reality lasting only a dozen years I had made enough associations between visual and other sense impressions to be struck with the unreality of something which would have deceived my eyes only if they had remained unmoved, and which presented other impressions THE STREAM OP CONSCIOUSNESS 39 to my external senses, that were contradictory to former experience, e. g., sound. Smell too was con- tradictory and the feeling of the air on my youth- ful cheeks was quite different from what it would have been in the open. The feeling, therefore, that any sight is the sight of a real thing depends upon concomitant impres- sions of hearing, temperature, air pressure and other qualities of conscious sensation. This is not to say that under abnormal condi- tions there may not be an utter absence of the real- ity feeling in the presence of real stimuli of all sense qualities otherwise making up the total reality feel- ing. We may be in such a subjective state at times J that, while all the objects of our surroundings are making their specific appeal through our various avenues of sense, they still do not arouse the .in- ternal feeling of reality. It is not difficult to cite cases of this. An example is the waking up in a room, above mentioned, and seeing the objects in it and not " placing " oneself. It is at first as unreal as a dream. The eyes have waked up first and not the other senses. Other examples might be given from neuroses in which the feeling of unreality is one of the striking symptoms. § 11. Hallucinations So too the feeling of reality may occur independ- ently of all the external avenues of sense or of all save one, as for example in hallucination, where we think we see or hear a person and there is no one X 40 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT there, or in illusion where there is a real stimulus in one sense quality, but hallucinatory contribu- tions from the other qualities. But the point of the whole discussion is that the feeling of reality is one thing and the visual or auditory impression is another. The latter comes from an external stimulus which is rarely, if ever, in real life, isolated from other external stimuli of other sense qualities. That is to say that as senti- ent beings we function as integrated unities, and our sights are never sights alone but are always sights plus sounds plus touches, etc., the complete- ness of the whole symphony of senses, so to speak, being necessary for the strongest feeling of reality. And this feeling of reality, which is not sight and not sound, nor smell, nor taste, nor cutaneous sen- sation, nor motor sense alone, but is a perception of all of them together, is an internal sensation, and not itself an external one at all. A fact also not to be lost sight of is that the reality feeling is felt not alone with external per- ceptions of the classes mentioned above, sights, sounds, etc., but is felt, if to a slighter intensity, with memories and ideas of all sorts. And there are people of an imaginative nature who have the feeling of reality very strongly in connection with ideas of visual content, of auditory content, etc. For such persons the actual experience of real things is frequently confused with ideal experi- ences. For s6me reason which is not germane to THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 41 our present discussion, their feeling of reality is hyperexcitable. How they have become hypersen- sitive to the complex feeling of reality does not in- terest us here. The fact is that they are thus hyper- sensitive. § 12. Reality Feeling and Images That the feeling of reality normally occurs to a' slight degree in connection with a visual image is quite comprehensible if we consider that all the ave- ^j nues of sense are traversable in both directions. Whether this is a literal fact or not with regard to the actual direction of nerve impulses does not make any difference. We know that the sight of some appalling thing recurs to consciousness with an intensity normally great, even if it is less than that of the original experience. We know that strains of music spontaneously occur to the mind^s ear from time to time for hours, after listening to a concert or opera. And it would not be unreason- able to suppose that, even if we were not conscious of it, there also spontaneously recurred impressions from other senses which were impressed at the same time we had the original experience. And the feel- ing of reality is one of those sensations originally aroused at the time of the incident in question, the automobile accident or the concert or what not. So it is quite reasonable to suppose that, as we func- tioned at the time as an integrated totality, we should now function as a whole, though with dimin- 42 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT ished intensity, and that the recurring vision should bring with it a slight resuscitation at least of the feeling of reality. § 13. The Feelings and the Emotions The internal sensations are the most interesting of all sensations, including, as they do, the organic sensations of nausea, hunger, thirst and sex, and the feelings usually called emotions, whose classi- fication and description has caused so much dis- agreement among psychologists, and whose relation to desires, wishes and volitions has been so unsatis- factorily investigated to date. The internal sensations are particularly interest- ing to the student of psychoanalysis, on the one hand, and of psychical research problems on the other, because of their ordinary indefiniteness, coupled with a propensity they have of coming severally or in groups suddenly into the light of consciousness, and thereby greatly influencing the individual's conduct, and especially his beliefs, fears, hates, loves, dislikes and his verbal expres- sions. The internal sensations are doubly interesting, too, if we realize that, in the unconscious, a brief exposition of which will be given in Chapters IV to VI, these sensations are absolutely constant and unremitting, as long as life lasts. No general and unceasing activity of a large city, some of whose inhabitants are always awake and doing their work, could come anywhere near being as universal THE STKEAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 43 as is the activity in the living human or animal body, reports of which are, so to speak, made to the brain and nerve centres every instant, whether the individual be conscious or unconscious, awake or asleep. As long as he lives, his lungs are filled and emptied of * air and his blood circulates, his various vital organs perform their unremitting functions, and the cells of his tissues are incessantly proliferated with the ceaseless activity of a factory which, once opened, never shuts down until it is finally dismantled and razed. Something will be said later about the uncon- scious, which is the power that drives the machines in this human productive unit, but here I would mention only the fact that of the details of the actual motions of the various machines, and of the shapes, densities and other qualities of the raw material and the different stages it goes through, few are probably ever known by the president of the company owning the factory, in other words, con- sciousness. Only on the rarest of occasions does a workman appear in the executive offices, so to speak. It is as unusual as is the phenomenon ab- normal which is studied by the psychical research- ers. But it would be quite illogical for the factory hand of an automobile plant to appear and try to tell the owner about a soap factory a thousand miles away. The facts, that appear in the spiritistic seance, are psychological facts, but they have no more bear- ing on the questions they are declared to have than 44 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT would be the claim of an auto mechanic that a soap vat would do to paint auto bodies in. Expressing this in psychological terms we may say that the qualities of consciousness, which term I prefer to " spiritistic phenomena/' evoked at the seance, are all natural phenomena, and no excep- tions to the laws of the unconscious and of con- sciousness taken together, but that they are offered as proofs of what would require quite a different type of fact to prove it. In other words science cannot yet accept either the facts, for reasons I will later give, or the interpretations of those facts, which seem to the psychical researchers as evi- dences of disembodied intelligence or survival of conscious personality. § 14. Complexity of Consciousness In this chapter I wish merely to emphasize the very great complexity of the stream of conscious- ness. In another chapter I will present the proofs of the still greater complexity of the unconscious. But as the conscious life itself is so complex, its own testimony about matters of scientific truth has to be most carefully sifted, and as the unconscious is still more complicated and at the same time is a very large factor among the determinants of the conscious life, it is manifestly absurd to take the testimony of either conscious or unconscious men- tality as having any weight in an argument de- signed to prove the independent existence of spirit apart from body, when the nature of the connection THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 45 between mind and body is so little understood as it is today. In fact it is much too early to say that any such separating and distinguishing a thing as a connec- tion between two separate things may be predicated of mind and body. It may be that mind is only something analogous to a quality of a chemical compound, differing from the qualities of any of the elements of which it is composed. Mind or spirit would then be merely a quality of the compound: life and matter, and as dependent on both matter and life for its existence as are the qualities of the chemical compound dependent upon the two chem- ical elements themselves. Finally the thesis of this chapter is that those who make any statement whatever concerning the thing they call spirit will be obliged not only to make a careful definition of what it is, and what re- lation it bears to the subjective sensations or mental images ; but also to orient themselves exactly as to the functions of these mental images in the mental life of the individual, before they venture to state that anything perceived via- the subjective or ob- jective sensations can be said to be scientifically true or to prove the existence of a force outside the body but related to the body — a force that pre- serves in its existence outside of the body something like a conscious personality. In brief the direct experience we have of mind or " spirit '^ is only in / connection with the body, and it is a matter of de- \ duction pure and simple to prove (1) its existence 46 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT apart from the body and (2) its ability to affect bodies with which it is not directly connected. Some of the difficulties of such proof, not to say its impossibility, I shall attempt to show in what follows. We have no direct experience of our own " spirit " demonstrably separated from our own body, any more than we have a direct experience of any one else's spirit apart from our own body. I infer that others have minds like mine, and the validity of my inference is dependent on what I per- ceive them doing. My perception of the actions of others, which are what I should do myself, if I were in their place, is my only logical guarantee that they exist and have mental and physical equip- ment like my own. The psychical researcher, however, asks us to be- lieve, for he cannot demonstrate, that there are beings without bodies, who can act in ways unlike our present corporeal mundane ways, that these beings were once connected with bodies now disin- tegrated and that we ourselves will become such beings after our bodies disintegrate. It is one thing to be asked to believe this, quite another to be ^ given scientific proof of it. I believe it most po- tently, but I cannot accept the proof of it that is offered. I shall show later how it is inevitable that I should believe it, and yet quite as inevitable that I should reject the arguments offered to prove it; the word belief being, as I think, used in a double v THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 47 sense in ordinary language, but really meaning that which would be lief or be liked. While my perception of the actions of others is my only logical guarantee that others exist, it is a .^ completely satisfactory one for it has never been known to fail. The logical guarantee offered by the spiritist fails at almost every time and place. If it did not, our entire social life would be quite different from what it is ; for we should all be able all the time to commune with absent or deceased friends or relatives, to raise and project ourselves through space, and to lift almost any weight at almost any distance without touching either it or anything connected with it, and finally to locate all the hidden treasures in the world, and to fore- tell with absolute certainty just what was going to happen in the future. § 15. Feeling of Reality Detachable The feeling of reality is a floating feeling, that is, it may become attached to any sensation what- ever or failing to be connected with a sensation, it may attach itself to an image. While this specific internal quality, the feeling of reality, different from sight or hearing, usually is felt as an almost indistinguishable part of the sight or sound, in the dejd vue situation it functions without stimulus. It is also a feeling that is backed up by the uncon- scious wish, which, being the craving for external- ity, will seek, in almost any available substitute, 48 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT externality or the feeling of reality that generally reports externality. In other words the uncon- scious wish inevitably tends to attach the feelings of reality to something. In a spiritistic seance the feeling of reality, being in the minds of the sitters removed as much as possible from those external impressions of sight, sound and touch, with which it usually lives, is in a particularly errant and un- satisfied state and flies with avidity to anything that occurs with sufficient vividness. As has been mentioned elsewhere, the conscious mental states that, in circumstances which remove light and sound completely, are most likely to occur are mental images, the representations, whether exact replicas or recombinations of their components, of experiences that have occurred to the sitters at some previous time in their lives. In the half sleep catharsis practised by Dr. Lud- wig Frank of Zurich these visual or auditory mem- ories, together with the emotions that accompanied the original experiences, are made the object of special scientific study for their bearing on the analysis of his patients. In the spiritistic seance they are made the arguments to prove the existence of discarnate intelligences different from the sitter. In Frank's patients the feeling of reality is asso- ciated with many of these visions. His patients for the moment believe they are again experiencing what they did once experience. In the spiritistic seance, the images, visions, sounds or touches as the case may be, are similarly associated with the feel- THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 49 ing of reality. But in the doctor's patients the reality is a reality that is recognized to apply only to the patients' own past. In the seance the real- ity felt by the individual sitter is claimed to be a reality for all people, not only at the time and under the circumstances but in all conditions. Yet it is evident that what is felt as real by a single person under unusual circumstances is not likely to be universally valid for all people in all cir- cumstances. In short the phenomena of the seance are due to the propensity of the unattached feelings of reality on the part of the sitters to attach themselves to, other mental states than objective sensations — from external stimuli, in other words, to the sub- jective states of the sitters, that is, to their own mental images which, under the conditions of the seance, are much more likely, than in ordinary life, to come from the unconscious, where they are ordi- narily kept, and to appear in consciousness. The question of the occurrence into one person's mind of images that have originated in the mind of some other person, telepathy, is a question that will be more fully discussed in another place. Here I am stating merely that the unconscious wish forces the attachment of the feeling of reality to something all the time. If it cannot be attached to external stimuli, because of their being as far as possible eliminated by the conditions of the seance, it will spontaneously attach itself to images. In a disposition or in a situation where the feel- 50 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT ings of reality are loosely attached to the different external sensations, it is sometimes a matter of doubt as to whether, in any given experience, they will attach themselves to the external sensation or to the image. Where, on the contrary, there is a strong sense of pleasure associated with an image (and a pain, or no pleasure at all, associated with an actual external sight), there is no doubt that the reality feeling will tend strongly to attach itself to the image, and not to the contradictory or an- tagonistic visual sensation. Thus, if the observer at a seance saw dimly the medium's foot lifting up the table, and at the same time had a strongly pleas- urable feeling attached to the sight of an unsup- ported table, which he visualized, the feeling of reality would naturally attach itself to the image of the unsupported table. And in the case of Eusapia Palladino's feet (or rather shoes supposed to con- tain her feet) which were held by two of the ob- servers, the tactual image of the foot-filled shoe, being so closely associated with the unconscious pleasure of being a partaker in so remarkable an incident as a table rising without visible means, would of course have the reality feeling attached to it, and the shoe holder would testify that he knew the woman's foot was in the shoe all the time. Thus we see the anticipated pleasure preparing to attach a semi-floating feeling of reality to an image already formed in the observer's mind, in- evitably attaching it thereto by virtue of the psyche's irresistible leaning toward pleasure and THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 51 away from pain. The deception is not consciously made by the observer, but is made unconsciously for him by the steady drift of the unconscious itself. This is the very essence of belief — be-lief -ing or be- pleasing an actual sight or sound into an image by driving from the actuality the feeling of reality and attaching it to the image, which, impelled up- ward from the unconscious by the same trend toward pleasure and away from pain, is waiting ready to receive it. Belief is therefore the attachment of the reality feeling to an image sent up from the unconscious depths of the psyche. A verbally expressed belief is merely the wording of the same mental process. Knowledge is the awareness of the law according to which things take place; and is as entirely inde- pendent of belief as it is completely liberated both from the image and from the feeling of reality. Both of these are intimately connected with bodily processes, while knowledge of the relations of things outside of the body is necessarily cut off from all participation in matters of images or feel- ings. The conditions and the very atmosphere of the \ spiritistic seance are such as to cause the feeling to be a floating feeling adrift in the strong current of the unconscious. Those who attend the seance with the fully conscious purpose of becoming the more convinced are no more adrift on the uncon- scious current than those who come with ridicule or scepticism. The same unconscious wish for 52 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT magnification of the ego controls what is believed by the latter as much as what is believed by the for- mer. So that where there is a strong conscious wish to believe the opposite, and an equally strong, if not stronger, wish to believe in spirits, there will be a bitter conflict in the psyche of the individual. Only the person who has clearly grasped the reality principle will be free from the vacillations of the reality feeling. Such a person alone in his thinking has freed himself from his conscious and unconscious desires. In this sense science is as truly emancipated from desire either for one thing or for its opposite as is the Hindu who has attained Nirvana. The scientist alone can see facts, be- cause he alone is uninfluenced by the ideal of what he thinks facts ought to be or to show. To become fa true scientist one has to learn to care not a whit whether a thing is one way or the other, but only to care to find out which way it is. This does not mean that I am attempting to place any comparative value upon either fact or fancy. One of them may be as valuable for human life as the other, in different spheres of human ac- tivity. But it does mean that I wish to keep them apart and to emphasize the necessity of not calling a fancy a fact. The only point in which science can be said to take an interest in the unconscious wish is the point of its causal effect upon the actual life of man or the universe. The question is : Does belief affect real- THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 53 ity, or only the reality feeling? Can a man in- crease his stature by taking thought? The important contribution made by psycho- \J analysis to this very problem is the fact that, how- ever it happens, certain types of diseases are cured by psychoanalysis. We know they are cured by this agency; we know that physical factors are changed by the patient's mental view of his sur- roundings being changed by thoughts that come to him during his visit to the psychoanalytic phy- sician. While we know the ^aci from correlation of repeated observation, we do not know exactly how the cure is brought about. ^ But the discov- ery that the unconscious wish has something to do with the cure puts the unconscious wish imme- diately into the category of objects to be studied scientifically, and it is now being studied by many people in different parts of the world. For exam- ple Ferenczi ^ regards the stigmata and other hys- terical conversion phenomena as the only true ma- terializations, in which the unconscious wish that is unable to enter consciousness is not satisfied with sensory excitation of the apparatus of perception but transfers itself directly to physiological func- tions themselves. I have noted that the feeling of reality has de- grees from that of the greatest reality, in the great- est activity, to that of the least reality in the body's 1 See Frink: Morbid Fears and Compulsions, page 547. 2 Hysterie und Pathoneurosen, 1919, p. 24. 54 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT state of least activity. I have also noted that the most intense feeling of reality is formed of the concurrence of the separate feelings of reality asso- ciated with the different senses, sight, sound, touch, taste, etc. Therefore we might suppose that a per- son whose senses were shut off or were anesthetized one after another would feel less and less reality. The sounds that come to the ear sound real enough when the eyes are closed, but the total feeling of reality is less, and if after closing the eyes we stop up the ears too, the feeling of reality is still less intense. Take away after that touch and smell and taste, and life would have little feeling of reality left associated with external impressions, and would attach itself to internal impression and to ideas and images. Images, whether conscious or unconscious, are the concrete and specific form which the uncon- scious wish takes in its rise upward from the fundamental craving for life, love and activity, and the methods of its selection of what specific images to offer up to consciousness (whether they reach consciousness or not being another matter of their availability and ability to pass the censor ^) are the principles of symbolism and are governed by another feeling, the feeling of similarity. So if the unconscious selects for presentation to consciousness particular images according to the principles of symbolism, based on the feeling of sameness, it is quite likely, if not inevitable, that 1 See Wilfrid Lay: Man's Unconscious Conflict, page 71. THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS 55 the images will be those most apposite to the dozen or so of primary symbols mentioned by Ernest Jones/ symbols that are common to all men and women. Therefore, the images presented to a group of people assembled for a common purpose are likely to have a high degree of symbolic affinity. They will all be likely to be those associated with the concept of death. So that in the cross corre- spondences noted by Frank Podmore in his book, The Newer spiritualism (New York 1911, page 240), it is not surprising to find the automatists in various parts of the world thinking of death in various symbolic images. And his conclusion "forced upon us by an impartial study of the re- port " that " the coincidences cannot be explained by mere chance association of ideas " is super- ficially true but only so. The association is not a chance one but is determined in each case by the unconscious wish of the automatist, and their un- conscious wishes are exactly the same as those of every one else in the world. The unconscious can- not wish for death, and, in sending up its death symbols, presents them in negative form, the net result being only the ever present wish for life. ^Psychoanalysis, page 144. J y CHAPTER II EMOTIONS I trust I have at least partially succeeded in showing the high degree of complexity of even the stream of consciousness, when we look at it in its entirety from the beginning of the day to the end of it. We are not only seeing, hearing, smelling and tasting from time to time each day, but are re- ceiving conscious impressions of entirely different sense quality in the shape of heat, cold, active movement, translation through space, articular and tendinous sensations, muscular sensations, and pressure on different parts of our skin, in the shape of hunger, thirst, sex, dizziness, nausea, pain, pleas- ure, the feeling of sameness, the feeling of reality, the feeling of will and, what I have not yet men- tioned, the emotions. If the conscious life were not complex enough already, it would become so by the addition of the emotions, which I define as sensations of internal conditions within the body, differing in quality from the other internal sensations just mentioned. Their importance in the discussion of spiritistic problems is not so much the fact that any adverse or unpleasant emotions are said to be unfavourable for the proper conduct of a spiritistic seance. The observer who comes with contempt or aversion in 56 EMOTIONS 57 his hea^rt is not welcomed by the circle, and is con- sidered to have a deleterious effect. § 1. Emotions Contribute Energy The importance of the emotions for our consid- eration of these problems presented by spiritism comes from the fact that the emotions contribute not only a large amount of energy to actions, mak- ing them much stronger and efficient, but also an amount of weight hardly to be underestimated, to the statements made about anything and particu- larly about spirit. In short we believe what we like and say what we believe. This is the advantage possessed by the truly re- ligious disposition over the doubting one, that it makes the possessor of it cheerful, happy and con- tented, both those who are, to use William James' expression, " once born " ^ and those " twice born," who have wrestled with their doubts and have gained from the struggle the necessary relaxation of dubitant tension. But, if we fully grasp the im- plications of modern analytical psychology, we see that the antagonism between science and religion has appeared in a new field. Formerly the doc- trines of evolution were thought to be at variance with the inspired story of creation in six days. Now the nature of the soul is being examined by science in such a way as to show that science can- not prove even the existence of the kind of soul religion claims for mankind. 1 Varieties of Religious Experience. 58 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT It is a very simple and " once born " experience to feel certain of the soul as a personal conscious- ness transcending the corporeal and surviving death; but it is quite another experience to begin to doubt the evidence of the feelings and seek for proof among the relations of external phenomena. Whence comes the doubt? It is not merely from verbal objections to belief that the truly religious disposition may hear casually, and that fill his mind with alarm. The doubt is a physiological mal- adjustment that has become conscious as an idea of visual, auditory or other external sense quality, a maladjustment that turns into despair in melan- cholic mental disorders,, where it has reached or is reaching its limit, beyond which it breaks up the body. Like any other form of religion, spiritism is more an emotional matter than a purely intel- lectual one and the dominant emotion in it all is fear. When we realize that the impressions made upon the mind from the body, through nerves that ter- minate in sense organs situated in all parts of the body, are appearing to consciousness from time to time all day long and every day, it is evident what a difficult matter it is to classify and describe the emotions, and how natural it has been for man- kind to associate them with, and practically to name them after, external things, perceived through other senses. It is the great number of these internal sensa- tions and the fact that they are felt in groups of EMOTIONS 59 ever changing combinations of elements that has made us automatically integrate them by associat- ing them with now one, now another, of the ex- ternal sensations, sight, hearing, and the others. § 2. Emotions Indefinite Consequently a definiteness is attained (essen- tial to the emotions being constantly perceived by consciousness) by the very fact of similar groups of internal sensations being associated with spe- cial ideas (sights, sounds, etc.). It is easily com- prehensible that there are very few innate associa- tions of emotions with external sensations, for in infancy the impressions received from the various internal organs are quite as numerous as they are in adulthood, yet they are associated with few ideas or few external perceptions, because of the fact both that there are few ideas with which to associate them, and that the actual external impressions themselves only later acquire significance, i. e., asso- ciative connection with the internal sensations of fear, aversion, etc. Thus Watson has shown clearly enough by his experiments on infants that they have practically no innate fear of animals, the fear being later acquired through experience. The consciousness of the position of the body is one of the internal sensations, and is very early associated with pleasurable or unpleasurable emo- tions. The maintenance of the body in one posi- tion is secured through the constant operation of impulses from the nerve centres, which are exceed- 60 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT ingly frequent ; and this holding of the body rigid soon becomes very irksome. Therefore pleasant or unpleasant emotions come into consciousness, though faintly, from time to time, all day long, due to our sitting or standing in certain positions. And conversely the posture of the body is well known to have an influence on the general emo- tional tone. As James said ^ : " Smooth the brow, brighten the eye, contract the dorsal rather than the ventral aspect of the frame, and speak in a major key, pass the genial compliment, and your heart must be frigid indeed if it do not gradually thaw!" § 3. Emotions and Unity of Function The sensory nature of emotion must be clearly grasped before one can see its effect on action. An emotion, being an organic sensation, and closely connected causally with the vegetative (autonomic) processes of the body, it is obvious that only those emotions are advantageous to the health of the body which are conducive to the complete func- tioning of the body as a totality, an organism all of whose parts are necessary to the integrity of the whole, and the functioning of any one of which will by deficiency or surplus proficiency, alter the total productivity of the whole. If this unitary conception of the organism is true, then there will be no total situation environ- ^ Psychology, Vol. II, page 463. EMOTIONS 61 ing the individual that does not influence all of him at the same time. There will be situations in which he is subject to the maximum degree of dis- traction in which part of him will want to go one way and the other part in the opposite direction, such as a man standing on the window sill of the tenth story of a building with the room on fire behind him. The height invites him in, the fire out. A girl is in the same situation when a man importunes her, whom she loves or by whom she is infatuated. In this situation she is torn between the lure of the fire within and the fall without. Thus situations have really objective qualitative differences, being of a diametrically opposing char- acter, such as the two I have mentioned, and all the way around through a hundred and eighty de- grees of arc to a situation in which all the sub- jective and objective elements together pull the in- dividual in one direction and there is nothing in the physical or psychical situation that produces any conflict, or puts any brake on the utter abandon of the action. As an example of this I would offer the skilful dive of a good swimmer into a swimming hole in the country. The coolness of the water allures, as the heat of the skin invites, the swimmer, the cre- scendo run up to the ecstatic acme of the plunge, during the passage through the air, the muscles of the whole body being in a rigorous tension, which, in the loop under the water, gradually di- 62 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT minishes until it reaches the complete relaxation of the floating position and the quietly resumed res- piration. § 4. The Ohjeotwe Situation This objective situation may be said to contain every element of attraction for the ordinary young male human; any conflicting element in it belong- ing necessarily to the state of mind or body of the particular individual. In spite of pool, shady spot and sunlight filtering through the forest trees, in spite of heat of body, and warmth of air, and the hunger of the body for external liquid refresh- ment, there may be an idea or an inability or a fear on the part of some youth that will make him un- able to dive, to enter the water at all, or to enjoy his swim, even after he has stepped or dived in. If it be not an actual disability, such a deterrent fear or inability belongs entirely to the internal or psychical situation. The total situation in any human activity is never exclusively external, nor is it even in sleep or dreams exclusively internal, but the activities of the swimming pool nature approach externality as a limit, and dreaming approaches internalized attention as a limit. We may question whether or not the tendency is greater of internal conflicts to assert themselves over external ones, that is, external situations that are intrinsically conflicting. Thus there are peo- ple whose external situation as such causes them internal conflicts, while other people in the same EMOTIONS 63 external situation develop no conflict at all. A given amount of wealth, if possessed by those who have been wealthier, will cause worry, while the same number of dollars for those who have had less, will be the cause of profound satisfaction. Yet there are, or appear to be, natures that will de- velop a conflict out of any situation whatever. No matter how well supplied they are with the world's goods or with physical strength or with social re- lationships, they will be everlastingly unhappy. § 5. The Conflict The activities of the psychical researchers, when regarded as merely the natural actions of a group of people in whom rages the conflict between the idea of life and the idea of death, become much easier to understand. They are people in whom the concept of the permanent termination of the con- scious personality associated with the integrity of their physical organism is unconsciously regarded with such horror that they take any steps possible to prove that this coming to an end on the part of consciousness is not really true. Such people have not, of course, thought much about mind existing apart from consciousness, and in the second part of this volume I shall have some- thing to say about that possibility and its bearing on the question of immortality. The spiritists, on the other hand, emphasize the misfortune of losing consciousness, although we normally lose it daily in sleep, and many times during the day it is 64 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT broken and interrupted and changed in such a way and to such a degree that, regarded as an entity in itself, it cannot be said to have a very important existence. If I had to choose between " scrap- ping " my conscious mental activities and my un- conscious ones, I should certainly throw over the former, as being the least advantageous for my welfare. Mind existing apart from consciousness, exist- ing in a way inscrutable to consciousness, is the only way in which we can conceive of mind as being permanent. As the unconscious is the vital urge and the vital urge is most continuously manifested in the germ plasm, it may eventually turn out that the only immortality of the soul that can be proved by science is that of the continuity, through in- dividual after individual, of the germ plasm it- self. And when we reflect that modem genetic biology has demonstrated the existence of so great a complexity in the chromosomes of the sexual cells of animals and man, and reflect that they are the continuous life and that everything else about the body comes to life and dies, we may not be surprised if some day the " soul '' is located in the germ plasm, in the genes of the chromosomes, in- stead of the pineal gland or other places. The fact that there is a conflict in the emotions existing in so many people shows that there is room for what we shall have to call mere chance happening in the association of any internal sen- sation or emotion with any external sensation EMOTIONS 65 caused by a real stimulus. If it were not so, the design then otherwise manifested would not be carried out, — the design of having each individual completely unified for operation without the rack- ing strains and counter-strains caused by the pleas- ant and unpleasant emotions getting attached to things that necessarily have to happen together, with the unfortunate result that we are frequently pleased and pained by the same actual experience. § 6. Fear As a result of what is apparently purely fortui- tous happening, therefore, certain external impres- sions gradually, beginning in infancy, become asso- ciated with the sensations constantly entering con- sciousness from the interior of the body. What gives these internal sensations their pleasurable or unpleasant qualities is obviously the general well being and proper functioning of the organism it- self, or the opposite. It is easy to see, then, that fear, which is an in- ternal sensation of a group of phenomena taking place in the various organs of one's own body, is hardly describable or to be grasped in terms of it- self, but is readily associated with anything that happens to be seen, heard, touched, smelt or tasted at that particular time. It has taken centuries to turn men's attention from the thing " causing " the emotion to the emotion itself. The resistance to this direction of the gaze has been almost insuper- able. Humanity has insisted that the badness of 66 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT its feelings was caused by the badness of things out- side of the body, and that good feelings were caused by good things, although things external could not be called either good or bad in themselves, but only as evoking, in the individual, feelings that he called good or bad. In a later chapter I shall have something to say about the unconscious mechanism that really causes some of these illogical tendencies to attribute internal qualities to external things, namely projection and introjection. (See Chap. V, sec. 6 and 7.) The feeling of sameness or the feeling of similar- ity will spread this associated connection, between fear, for instance, and either external sensations or reproductions of these in the shape of mental im- ages; with the result that, even if the original ex- perience associated with fear never comes again, any similar experience will tend to become asso- ciated with the internal sensations constituting the fear. It thus happens that an association is made be- tween fear and death, and also that anything that is like death or in any manner suggests death will arouse the same fear. There are then associated together in the individuaPs mind a number of ex- periences, actions, words, ideas or other states of consciousness, any one of which, by virtue of its similarity with the idea of death, will arouse the same unpleasant emotion. This group of ideas, experiences, etc., which is EMOTIONS 67 thus associated together by its tendency always to stir up the emotion of fear is called a complex. It is quite evident, too, that there are complexes integrated by other emotions than fear. But we are now in a position to state that the spiritist is one whose emotions are largely enlisted on the sub- ject of death. He has, so to speak, a death com- plex. A corollary of this is that the pleasant emotions will be enlisted on the side of life, and every ex- perience that through the feeling of similarity can be associated with the concept of life will be grouped together in the same individual's mind. Thus there will be two groups of ideas or experi- ences in his mind, each of which will be antagonis- tic to the other. Large amounts of unpleasant emotion will be accumulated on the side of death, and similarly large amounts of pleasant emotions on the side of life. That is to say, life, and by that I mean the continuance of conscious personality, will come more and more to be regarded as the greatest desideratum and death quite the opposite. Therefore such a person will consciously collect all possible evidence for the continuance of life and for the non-existence or the explaining away of death. And if it is adequately realized what an impetus is given to all human activity by human emotions, it will be quite evident that no stone will be left unturned both to prove the existence of the con- 68 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT scious personality after the mortal coil has been shuffled off, and to minimize the significance of death itself. I might add that in other individuals not inter- ested in spiritism the fear of some other thing than death will be found to have paired off with its antagonist and to have enlisted all the unpleasant emotions on the one side and the pleasant ones on the other. Only with these people it did not hap- pen to be death. I have taken fear as an illustration only. The most refined or subjective emotions are other groups of internal sensations that, in the particular in- dividual, have become gradually associated with more and more abstract ideas, such as the rela- tions between forms and masses and colours seen, between tones and intensities of sounds heard, and between flavours smelt and consistencies and tastes of substances put into the mouth as food. The pos- sibility of combinations of relations between in- ternal and external is endless. It is enough in this chapter if I have indicated the enormous complexity of even the conscious mental content, both in specific instances and in variety of specifically different qualities of con- sciousness. I feel that I shall not, however, have begun to represent the wealth of possibilities, with- out offering the reader what is contributed to this subject by the unconscious. If the emotions are, as has, I trust, been suf- ficiently shown in this chapter, sensations of in- EMOTIONS 69 temal origin within the body, and if we constantly have the body with us, so to speak, it will be quite necessary to suppose that there are many states and conditions within the body that never or rarely enter consciousness. It will be evident then that the only reasonable name to give them is uncon- scious emotions. We are having unconscious emo- tions all the time, then, whether we are asleep or awake. Indeed it has recently been shown that the quality of our sleep is impaired or, for hours at a time, we do not sleep at all, not merely because of conscious emotions preventing sleep, but because of unconscious emotions making it impossible or un- refreshing. So too we have unconscious sensations not only from internal stimuli but from external ones and we have unconscious images. The whole world of the unconscious mental life in the mind of each and every one of us must be our next topic, previous to which, however, I shall have to give a brief account of how it has been lately studied by means of psychoanalysis. PART II THE UNCONSCIOUS OF PSYCHOANALYSIS CHAPTER III PSYCHOANALYSIS Psychoanalysis is the name given by Freud to the method of investigating those mental phenom- ena which do not find explanation by the ordinary methods used in learning about conscious mental states. It serves also as a means for bringing about cures of certain mental and physical illnesses which are known to be of psychic origin. Its chief inter- est, however, is not for the invalids that are re- stored to health through its elaborate technique, for they are necessarily few in number, because the physicians competent to use it are an almost neg- ligible quantity. Its interest for the majority of people of the edu- cated classes comes from a very different source, namely the extraordinarily clear explanation it"V gives of almost all the inconsistencies and insoluble I problems of any aspect of human nature which ex- \ eludes the main tenet of psychoanalysis, namely the dynamic aspect of the unconscious mental activity. It is therefore the firm conviction of the present writer and of all real students of psychoanalysis, that less than half the actual facts are taken into consideration by those who ignore or misconstrue what the scientific study of the unconscious has to 73 74 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIKIT say about any phenomena which may in any sense be called mental or psychic. § 1. Ignorance about Psychoanalysis Almost all people interested in spiritistic phe- nomena are ignorant of the newer psychology and few of those who know of it have failed to miscon- strue it. It is therefore the object of the present volume to present as clearly as possible the compli- cated subject of the application of psychoanalytic facts to the claims inade by the spiritists, and to indicate, for the help of those who instinctively feel that spiritism is a misinterpretation of facts, how the factors revealed by a knowledge of the uncon- scious bear upon the asseverations of the adherents of spiritism, and what regions of the normal human mind the spiritists have entered, without knowing it, and brought back from subliminal depths mate- rial that is not in any way extraordinary, nor valu- able as a logical proof of the tacit assumptions of spiritism. A suggestion will be offered as to what would be a necessary procedure, if the facts of spir- itism were to be fully accepted as scientifically proven facts, and this suggestion will make it evi- dent how far we are from scientifically confirming what is stated in numerous books and by promi- nent people, whose words have great persuasive force, even people who have made their mark in strictly scientific work. To the contention, therefore, of the many writers who have supported the statements of spiritism we PSYCHOANALYSIS 75 shall have to say : Is there not another explanation of these phenomena — an explanation that you have either never heard of, or have heard of only inade- quately, or have perhaps misunderstood? If you had the other explanation offered, would you not be obliged to consider it, as it is now fully accepted by science, and to change some of your views about what you have seen or heard, or think you have seen or heard? As Maeterlinck puts it in The Unknown Guest: " For the present it (the spiritistic theory) simply relegates to posthumous regions phenomena that appear to occur within ourselves; it adds super- fluous mystery and needless difficulty to the me- diumistic mystery w^hence it springs" (page 55), and ^^ Before turning toward the mystery beyond the grave let us first exhaust the possibilities of the mystery here on earth " (page 57). § 2. Spiritism and Love I am quite aware that the psychoanalyst who would thus address a spiritist is in the position of an adult trying to reason with a youth and show him the impossible things he says and feels about a girl for whom he has developed a sudden infatu- ation, but who is intellectually his inferior and tem- peramentally actually antipathetic. Fired by his phantasies, born of his unconscious wishes, he can- not in most cases see the same things his adviser sees and practically is unable to hear the argu- ments presented. For I shall try to show that the tendency to be- 76 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT lieve in spirits is as universal and as strong as the tendency of youth to fall in love, but that neither one of them is any more rational than the other; that the original impulse to attempt scientifically to prove the existence of disembodied intelligences is based on quite as deep lying unconscious trends as is the perfectly normal exaggeration on the lover's part concerning the supernal qualities of his mistress ; furthermore that a scientific proof, if such is required, is as far from a person in such a state of mind as prudence and moderation of thought and action are to U^e imi)etuous lover. Indeed the human race has always been in love with the idea of spirit, and I shall try to show just how this idea first originated, and out of what mechanisms of un- conscious thinking. As these mechanisms have been discovered by psychoanalysis it is therefore essential that any one who washes to be in a position to make an au- thoritative statement about the spirit apart from the body should first know all that has been re- cently discovered about the mind in the body — a large interrelation of facts having a high degree of complexity that must be my excuse for any failure in one volume adequately to represent enough of it to orient the reader in the maze of statements daily made concerning the " spirit." § 3. What Psychoanalysis Is Not I shall try in the next three chapters to present a brief positive outline of psychoanalytic theory, a PSYCHOANALYSIS 77 theory against which no valid objection has yet been made and for which everything so far sci- entifically observed has shown the strongest pos- sible logical proof. Here, as a preliminary, I feel it necessary to present some negative considera- tions. Psychoanalysis, although it originated in the physician's consulting room, and is as yet, as a cure for mental and physical ills of psychic origin, properly restricted to that precinct, is not any longer merely a medical affair. Those who have clearly seen the implications of Freud's therapeutic measures have realized that the acceptance of the theory of the unconscious, as a dynamic hypothesis for explaining the sequence of ideas, emotions and volitions in patients mentally disordered, carries along with it the acceptance of still more inclusive I laws according to which occur the conscious mental states of the absolutely normal person. Psycho- analysis is therefore not merely a method of restor- ing order to a mind diseased. Nor is it a justification, as has not infrequently been illogically inferred, for the indiscriminate or even strictly and narrowly illegal gratification of the sexual passions. Freud's deduction that neu- ^ roses were the perversion of the sexual instinct might lead some who had firmly repressed it against their will to infer that he recommended their rais- ing the " lid," so to speak, and attaining physical health through sexual license. But no psycho- analyst of repute makes that inference, even though he may know, as eveiy one else does, that true 78 MAN^g UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT wholesomeness of society exists only upon the basis of a union of man and woman with complete fusion of their interests in the lives of their children. But, more than all that, and more germane to the subject of spiritism, is the consideration that psychoanalysis has established the unconscious as a foundation of conscious life, and that no conscious phenomenon is adequately explained without ref- erence to the unconscious life behind it, any more than a tree is only that part of it which is above ground. The leaves cannot be explained without the knowledge that there are roots, and conscious thinking, feeling and willing cannot be understood without regard to the unconscious forces that moti- vate them. Therefore we must repeat and most emphatically insist that it is illogical and otiose to make any statement about " spirit '' as a thing apart from matter until the relations of spirit and matter are more thoroughly understood, as they exist in com- bination with each other in the living animal, hu- man or sub-human. And it is more and more evi- dent that the majority of those interested in psy- chical research have not, in their consideration of disembodied spirit, made a sufficient study of em- bodied spirit. It may eventually appear that the embodied variety is the only one existent anywhere. § 4. Repression In studying the phenomena of hysteria the psy- choanalysts were forced to the conclusion that at PSYCHOANALYSIS 79 least part of them were caused by the action of memories of past events or experiences that had been resolutely thrust back by the patient into a part of his mind whence they were never recalled. To this thrusting back they gave the name repres- sion and inferred that the cause of it was the un- pleasant or fearful nature of the experiences around which the never-recalled, and therefore permanently unconscious, memories clustered. This was the psychic trauma (wound) theory, and the cause for many nervous troubles was sought in the wound to the spirit (psyche), which, as were found in some cases, had been received in early youth. The re- pressed ideas and emotions of the medium are let out in the only way possible for some neurotics, from the unconscious into conscious life, and still displaced. They are displaced not upon some con- scious compensatory idea, as in the neurosis, but upon an idea which comes into consciousness in the trance or in the automatism of whatever nature it may be. In every soul struggle is found the drive of the unconscious toward external expression, not neces- j sarily the drive of the unconscious to attain con- } sciousness nor the craving of the activities below j the level of consciousness to enter the upper spheres * of consciousness. We may not in every case sup- pose that the craving of the unconscious is simply to appear before consciousness as if the latter were a king, the very atmosphere surrounding whom was a source of pleasure, honour and material advantage. 80 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT It is much more likely that our vital force which is fragmentarily expressed in consciousness is quite as satisfactorily, as far as the unconscious wish is concerned, expressed in movements in and of the body, of which we are not aware, by proliferation of cells, by chemical action, by physiological proc- ess and automatic actions of all varieties, quite as well as by the comparatively few tensions and re- laxations of which we are now and then conscious. The vital force, by whatever name we call it, is only partly striving to vitalize inanimate matter, and its onward, progressive, pushing nature is only partly concerned with transmitting life and is also indifferent to the means by which the inward drive is externalized. So that it is quite as well satisfied, by knocking over an ash barrel in the street as by emitting an ovum. Externality is its goal, and it achieves externality quite as much by actions that from a narrower point of view we call destructive as those we call constructive or creative. The attainment of consciousness in the sense of the unconscious wish of one person, entering an- other's consciousness is secured by the medium's unconscious, if he goes into a trance and speaks or writes what he does not himself become con- scious of directly, and other people hear him (or see him) express through automatic speaking or writ- ing, but what he later becomes conscious of through seeing his writing or hearing other people tell him his own words. His unconscious wish has tra- versed one of the paths toward externality and has PSYCHOANALYSIS 81 arrived/si^ indicated in the preceding paragraph. There are many other paths. The medium's vital force has secured externality indirectly, as far as the medium's own consciousness is concerned, but just as directly, from the point of view of the un- conscious, as if it had succeeded in presenting the ideas to the medium's conscious mind without going a round-about way to be told by some one else. But whether the advancing vital urge appears to one consciousness (the medium's) or to another (the observer's), is of little moment so long as it produces its external effect — the only effect that could satisfy the desire for externality. Psychoanalysis sees the dire results to the psyche that come from the failure to externalize, and its method is that of a liberator, and its technique consists solely in removing the resistances to ex- pression that are imposed by conventional society so that the externalization of the vital urge may be whole instead of fragmentary, unitary instead of divergent, and socially symbolic instead of aso- cially, where it has to be symbolic. Whatever the vital urge, libido (horm6), elan vital) may be, it is transformed into material real- ity or it is material reality in motion or it is energy latent or free. Its most highly organized expres- sion as we know it here is life, and to declare that it, or anything so analogous to it is a spirit, moves chairs and tables and plays mandolins, is to say that something that had not life before is suddenly 82 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT and unaccountably presented with life for a very brief time and then deprived of it in a most capri- cious manner. If this were an instance of a vital urge that was yearning for externality we could imagine an easier method by which to attain it. But psychoanalysis regards the craving for life and love as something affecting only human and animal life, and is concerned solely with the ex- pression of that craving in human thought and action. So its aim is direct expression and the indirect way of the medium is not sought. The particular method for smoothing the path of the impulses that ever strive to come from the un- conscious into the world of externality, is the removing of the resistance which is caused by fear of the environment or of certain elements of it. As soon as this fear is removed the only obstacle to full expression is cleared away. The unconscious impulses can then find all the ex- ternal objects necessary to absorb it all. In an absolutely unrepressing environment every primal instinct would be immediately followed and what we call society would be an impossibility. In an environment as repressive as most civilized com- munities the natural instincts are held in check, and are gratified not directly but indirectly by the symbolic actions which liberate the same amount of energy but with results more conformable to con- vention. The medium's method of giving external- -^ .^y ^Q j^-g unconscious wishes is consequently only one of the many indirect methods, and has not more PSYCHOANALYSIS 83 bearing upon the existence of " spirit " outside of his body than the blood in his veins has connection with the water in the " canals " of Mars. But repression shuts in the vital urge, and this implies that repression prevents the entrance, into consciousness, of many images, of most all, in fact, of the images that represent the infinity of impres- sions received by the medium for the entire dura- tion of his corporate existence as a receptive and in- tegrating organism. If the repression were com- pletely removed every past experience could be re- called by the appropriate situation. The appropri- ate situation is such a combination of events as to call for the revivification of the given memory. The medium's surroundings in a trance, and the automatic writer's quiet and repose, are both ap- propriate situations for the removal of repression from certain sections of pa&t memories, because both shift the responsibility for what is said, done and written from the medium and autamatist to some other " personality," either the medium's " control " or the dictating " spirit." Psychoanalytic therapy consists in removing, as far as- possible, the resistances caused by the fear of the patient to express his unconscious wishes, and the synthesis is then accomplished by causing the patient himself to see the means whereby the unconscious craving may receive its complete grati- fication in literal forms, where these do not violate the requirements of convention, or, where they do, the synthesis aims to cause him to secure quite as / ( 84 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT adequate satisfactions in symbolic form, thus giv- ing him an ability to make to any environment adaptations whose failure has been the true cause of his illness. For us the signific^t fact about psychoanalytic therapeutic methods is that so nlany early memories forgotten for many years were brought into con- sciousness, that quite evidently no experience what- / ever is lost by the mind in spite of apparent forget- fulness. In other words, no matter what has been the history of the individual, he retains in his memory, though he may not be able to recall to con- sciousness, practically everything that he has ever experienced, whether it be a sensation caused by an external stimulus, or an image, or idea, that has evolved in his mind years before as a recombina- tion of other sense elements. ^ It is also a significant fact that the conditions in the present time under which these memories are finally recalled, after they have lain dormant for many years, are quite similar to the conditions of the spiritistic seance, namely quiet and subdued light. And in the earlier psychoanalytic technique they used hypnosis, which developed the various secondary Ipersonalities, showing that the memories repressed had tended to become integrated systems, | that had many of the characteristics of individual j personalities. Similarly the unconscious memories of the medium show a tendency to do the .same thing, and an association has been found in the PSYCHOANALYSIS 85 minds of the psychical researchers between the sec- ' ondary personality and the abnormal. But the secondary personality, at least from one point of view, is not anything abnormal at all. To a certain extent even the most ordinary so-called normal human, may be said to exhibit a dual per- sonality in his commonplace forgetfulness. An y idea may be presented to a very opinionated man, and he may unconditionally reject it as impossible or impracticable. The fact that it is antagonistic to him may be realized with varying degrees of consciousness. That is, he may attribute his re- jection of it to conscious motives, whereas the mo- tives in this case are largely unconscious. Six months later he may carry out the idea into action. He has in some instances then forgotten the origin of the idea and it bobs up into his own mind without being associated with the antagonis- tic personality who originally suggested it to him. He then accepts it as his own idea, supposes he has thought it all out himself, and forgets that it was put into his head for the first time by some one whom he hates or hated. In the existence of this idea in his mind during the six months mentioned we see the nucleus of a dual personality. The idea had a compelling force of its own, so to speak, and, after shaking off the unpleasant associations with the hated man, re- appears in a form attractive to the man who later carries it out. None of us can successfully trace to 86 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT their sources all the ideas that occur to us. But with the proper analytic technique some of these ideas may be so traced. Effort to recall past scenes and incidents is not generally well sustained by the average individual, nor is the truly scientific method of so doing known to a large number of per- sons. If they did know how to do so, they would be able to understand and account for every im- portant idea and action of their lives. § 5. The Medium Ordinarily, however, we lead mentally a compara- tively irregular existence, stirred to action by mo- tives partially accounted for and by blind instincts and compulsions. The thesis of this book is that all so-called communications, instead of being from a conscious control by another personality, physic- ally separate from the medium, are in reality from an unconscious control by a secondary or subsidiary personality of the medium himself or herself. In the average man or woman leading a reasonably ex- traversional existence, the unconscious wishes do not have the opportunity to become compressed into other subsidiary personalities. In the medium, who is of a more or less introversional nature, the unconscious wishes do have this opportunity. The medium says: " The spirits of A and B and C are here; is there any one of them with whom you would particularly care to communicate? " " Well,'' says the unprejudiced spectator, ^^ I knew B when he was alive. Has he any message for I^,\' PSYCHOANALYSIS 87 irie?" And the medium, whether or not in a trance, proceeds to give forth information about B, the triviality of which is considered, by those most interested, as the best kind of evidence. " How "7 could the medium have known the kind of jack- * knife my grandfather cut his nails with? '' If the medium could be proved not to have been able to know such classes of things, and produces more of this kind of information than could be accounted for by the law of probability of lucky guesses, then the communications are considered proven. It thus turns out that the most trivial and otherwise most insignificant details acquire, as proofs, the greatest weight, and become most significant in the eyes of the believers of spiritism. It is much like proving a line of beauty by means of minute anat- omy of the human form possessing it. And it is to be noted that this kind of so-called " communication '^ is regarded by those who desire survival, as a proof of the survival, in some inex- plicable and indescribable psychic condition, of the soul apart from the body, without really adequate scientific knowledge and definition of what the " soul '^ is, when it is in the body. § 6. Unconscious Trends As will later be seen, there are, in the uncon- scious, various trends that might be arranged in a sort of hierarchy of relative strength. One of these is sex, and another is self. Freud has, with log- ical consistency, reported what he found in his 88 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT patients, and has come to the conclusion that sex, interpreted very broadly, is the main unconscious motive for human conscious activity. Jung, the founder of the Zurich school of psychoanalysis, says that sex and other unconscious cravings are alike forms of another and higher vital urge. Both agree that the unconscious craving, whatever it may be called, is seen in the acts and conduct of all persons, whether they be conventional actions or the most unusual type of behaviour imaginable. The most sensational of the eccentricities, im- pulsive and irrational actions are seen in the con- scious expression of the unconscious sex wishes, and some psychoanalysts have revealed these so clearly that the popular mind has the impression that psychoanalysis regards them as the sole mo- tives for all conduct. Therefore the opponents have seized upon this one aspect of the unconscious craving, and have reasoned fallaciously as follows, basing their statements on their misconception of the doctrine of repression. " According to this theory the best people would be the worst, and vice versa. We repress what we will not have in the conscious mind. . . . The purest minded man or woman, then — according to this doctrine — is not the one who has the purest conscious mind, but the purest subconscious mind — that is, one who has let out all the bad it contains, and retained none! So that the more vilely we act, the more foul mouthed we are, the purer we are as a mat- ter of fact. What a delightful doctrine ! Does it PSYCHOANALYSIS 89 not occur to the Freudians that we are only re- sponsible for the content of our conscious minds? Unless we bring the contents of the subconscious mind to the light and gloat over it as the Freudians do, we should never know that we had one — most of us. Yet according to them, this is the man — this muck heap — this is the real man! " (Here- ward Carrington: Modern Psychical Phenomena, N. Y. 1919, page 22.) Psychoanalysis makes no such statement as that the best people are the worst and vice versa, re- garding as it does all people as being in the main trends of their unconscious cravings pretty much alike, the chief difference probably being in the relative strength of these cravings, and not in the specific acts in which they are expressed. Furthermore it is not alone the evil propensities that are repressed, but in not a few people good im- pulses are consciously repressed as will be quite manifest to any one who examines carefully his own life. As if realizing that wholesomeness and ^ good feeling alone are constructive and progressive, s the libido, which is the quintessence of what in its highest form is love, sends up from the most funda- mental depths many an impulse to do a friendly act, which some conscious fear represses. That only the asocial act and thought is repressed would never be asserted by any analyst in good repute, nor that the unconscious wish is wholly bad. That the best people are the worst is far too sim- ple a statement to represent the very complicated 90 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT relations between consciousness and the uncon- scious. Also it appears that people who make such ' statements ignore, or are ignorant of, the principle of sublimation which in every case parallels re- pression. Psychoanalysis regards the unconscious wish as being transformed in every case by the social environment, beginning in earliest infancy, taking shape and specific nature from the manners and customs of the intimates of the individual per- sonality. This process which diverts the wish from a merely egoistic one, sublimates the desire, which, though changed in actual content, retains its primal force. Thus the egoistic, unconscious craving for mastery is transformed or sublimated into the con- scious wish for constructive leadership, the crassly sexual is sublimated into the highest forms of love. When an opponent of psychoanalysis, which means one who does not understand it, or who fears it, says that we repress what we will not have in the conscious mind, he errs in not saying we re- press what we fear to have in the conscious mind. And fear may be attached by any person to almost anything, depending on the situation in which he finds himself. And if it is true that we repress into the unconscious what we will not have in the conscious mind, we are guided as to what we will by the opinions of other people, rarely or never by ^our own, the moral norm being set by the environ- ment. Thus the fear is the fear of the disapproval or other hostile action of others with whom we live PSYCHOANALYSIS 91 in contact. Or it may be the fear we feel toward the disapproval, etc., of some imaginary personal- ity — some personality we have rationally or irra- tionally constructed out of our own impressions, true or false. This personality may indeed be the ideal we have formed of ourselves as we should like to be. Then we say we fear to do something out of self-respect, we scorn such actions, we are too proud to think such thoughts; but the whole sit- uation, whether real or imaginary, whether it con- sists of ideas, or desires, is controlled by fear, or some might call it aversion, against doing or think- ing of certain kinds. Thus a very courageous per- son might not like to use the word fear about him- self, but would say that the actions he considered ignoble were beneath him. And in any case, whether they are the thoughts or actions of a courageous or a timid person, they are repressed into the unconscious. The evil thoughts or im- pulses which, if he followed them out, would lead either kind of person to do ill, may originate within his own personality, i. e., in his own unconscious or they may be suggested to him from without, by evil companions, for example. In the latter case the evil impulses contained within the unconscious, after having been repressed into it, would be both endogenous and acquired. So. that a good person, according to the misstate- ment above quoted, would be still better if the evil impulses originating within were increased by some others originating without. He would increase his 92 MAN^S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT goodness by accumulating repressed evil that was gathered from as many extraneous sources as pos- sible. He would become better by more and more closely associating with criminals, receiving by force of example more and more anti-social im- pulses and repressing them into his unconscious as he received them. Only in this way could he im- prove his character, according to the misstatements noticed above. Therefore I wish to utter a warning as definite and emphatic as possible, that those who represent psychoanalysis as teaching any such contradictory doctrine are completely misrepresenting it. Never having themselves been analysed, they have no in- side knowledge of what are the real aims of psycho- analysis, and they fear what psychoanalysis may ultimately prove about the ideas they have accepted. CHAPTEE IV THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE § 1. Resistance to Knowledge There are several reasons why people in general, and, among them, spiritists, should be unwilling to learn the main facts that have been thus far sci- entifically ascertained about the unconscious. One of these reasons is the at first unpleasant, not to say horrible, nature of the facts themselves, re- garded from a purely conventional standpoint. To say that in each of us there lives not merely a cave man or w^oman but a Titan of heroic force, just " under the skin " and that a little amount of ob- servation and study will reveal him to any one of us is saying something that the average person will not take any interest in hearing, but I shall later show that it is indispensable for those interested in spiritism to know as much of it as they can. The other cause for the unwillingness of the av- V erage person to learn the main facts of the working of the unconscious mentality is their exceeding com- plexity. One of the problems of mathematics most re- luctantly attacked by young people in school is that of permutations and combinations, a problem that is presented to them by enthusiastic pedagogues too early, before they are consciously capable of 93 / 94 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT continuing a strain of attention too long. The teacher of almost any object finds the question: " In how many and in what orders can three dif- ferent items be presented?" an almost insuperable matter to the pupil even of high school age, although the clear view of such a question not only makes much compyehensible that was not so before, but also this slight mental gymnastic exercise when completely mastered even simplifies much of the matter to be studied, and gives a feeling* of power quite satisfying. But only a few people can be induced to do even this slight amount of mental work, which is different from merely straight re- membering. Mere memory allows the mind to glide along a beaten path from one image to another, and in most people is the easiest of mental work. But ask them to change the order of the items ac- cording to a certain plan and the mental energy required to do this is unavailable, because so much has already been used up in the usual uncontrolled phantasy type of memory. The mere vision of thi:ee objects in all possible orders as : abc, acb, bac, bca, cab, cba, fills the mind with an uneasy sense of perplexity and instinctively the child's and many adults' minds shrink from the mental strain of continuing the necessary mental effort. To require a beginning Latin student to write or even say : Caesar bellum facit. Caesar facit bellum. THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 95 Bellum Caesar facit. Bellum facit Caesar. Facit Caesar bellum. Facit bellum Caesar. and to realize that they all mean practically the same, differing only in emphasis, is an almost in- human requirement, although an ability to do this is indicative of a high degree of mental control and helps to fix the functions of the Latin cases. In learning a foreign language or even a bit of grammar in English, the same complexity of ma- terial and simplicity of mental state of the learner is found. Take the elementary sentence: Tom steals a pig, and ask any child, that knows the dif- ference between active and passive, to change merely the form of the sentence, from active to pas- sive, but retain exactly the same idea, and you will find that many will say Tom stole the pig, confus- ing past with passive, or The pig stole Tom, just reversing the sense. Very rarely will you get the first time the correct answer : The pig is stolen by Tom. The further transformations that are pos- sible in expressing practically the same ideas with (1) a simple sentence or (2) a complex sentence^ are complexities of variously increasing manifold- ness. Thus Tom, the piper's son, steals a pig, has to be made into a complex sentence of exactly the same meaning Tom, who is the piper's son, steals a pig. In this transformation the appositive, " the piper's son " is turned into a relative clause. If 96 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT a child is told to turn " piper's " into a preposi- tional phrase modifying " son/' just as " the piper's " does, he is generally non-plussed and only after some very unwilling effort on his part can he be made to see that Tom, who is the son of the piper, is what is wanted. All these changes, simple as they appear to the trained English student, are pos- sible to the simple mind only with great effort. There is a game called " Packing My Bag." In a circle of people one starts saying: "I packed my bag, putting into it a tooth brush " ; the next says : " I put into it a tooth brush and a hair brush " ; the third : *^ I put in a tooth brush, a hair brush and a comb." The fourth repeats the three articles and adds another, and so on until the bag contains so many articles that some one person will either leave one out or mention it in the w^rong order. For some people the game exercises only a certain kind of memory, which normally breaks down after a while, but in all the players there is required a kind of concrete thinking of a very low order, but still straining the attention. Various people's reaction to this game is variously amusing and edifying. In the game the strain is that of keeping their minds on one thing (the series of articles) ; in the grammar exercise it is not merely remembering Tom, the piper's son, steals a pig, but remembering the whole of it and changing a part of it. Both " Tom, the piper's son " and " Tom, the son of the piper," have to be kept in consciousness at the same time. That is the cause of the strain. Conscious- THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 97 ness, like a spring hinge, has to be opened to take in two things at once side by side, so to speak, and it does not naturally do that. Naturally it takes in only one thing at a time. Minds have to be arti- ficially stretched to accommodate at once con- sciously more than a single unitary experience. Even the mechanic of average ability is unable to use two wrenches at once, one in the right hand and one in the left. To every single idea the whole body responds as an integral unit with a single muscular set or " postural tonus,'' and two ideas side by side cause at first a real physical dead-lock, which, in the phrase Tom, the son of the piper, is increased by the fact that it is not the original or real phrase. Any change is making something into something that it is not, and such a change is one that goes against the whole muscular set of the entire body, particularly if that muscular set is associated with any degree of comfort or pleasurable emotion. Any exercise done and accomplished, even with a mistake in it, is associated with comfort or pleas- ure just because it is accomplished. To correct the error negates that pleasure. To change what is produces discomfort and displeasure in the ma- jority of young people, and is not undertaken vol- untarily. Here again the complicated external world produces a simple organic reaction in the mind-body combination. In order to change the complexity of an external thing (here a set of words) the child has' to produce in himself a change 98 MAN'B UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT of his whole muscular set. He has to feel different, and he does not naturally want to feel different, because feeling the same is easy and therefore pleas- urable, and feeling different is hard and therefore unpleasant. Similarly if he has put down : 72 38 574 216 2634 and has taken satisfaction out of the fact that it is down and done, he will naturally revolt, to the con- fines of his being, when he is told that the first thing, and the next to the last, are wrong, and that if it were dollars he would be out |102. The pleasure of completion attaches to whatever is completed. Therefore if it is completed wrongly, in any detail, it is a cause of displeasure to be re- quired to change it. The necessary conclusion from this is that in educating the young, one has to aim both at getting a correct version the first time, and at associating pleasure with the act of chang- ing or correcting the young person's performance, if it should be wrong. The pleasure ordinarily asso- ciated with the act of correcting is generally the pleasure of the teacher. But what I mean here is pleasure on the part of the learner. Getting this THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 99 pleasure is getting the best out of external reality. Here external reality in the shape of words actually spoken or written, sums added or even thoughts thought if they be thought according to the com- plicated modes in which things in the real world exist, — external reality is the only wholesome ob^ ject for the psyche to function against, without which object it never grows but remains infantile, spending itself introversionally in idle phantasying. The psychical researcher is phantasying all the time. Education is a training of the mind like a vine on a trellis, but the true education not only trains the vine upon the trellis but makes first the trellis to train the vine on. Back of that still is the idea in the mind of the deviser of the trellis, and that idea must be formed in a way to carry out some union of psyche and object. § 2. Complexity/ Natural curiosity will not carry far. It is easily satisfied. Many a child's curiosity extends only far enough to test its own strength, as to whether it can break this or that thing. A curiosity to see things go around is partly that; but partly of a slightly higher order, if it tries to find out why one of a series of meshed wheels goes one way and the next another. To find out how many times one goes around while another is going once, would, in connection with other traits, show a very high order of mentality. V 100 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT Curiosity is only one form of mental activity, and refers outward or inward indifferently. Those I whose mental energy takes an exclusively or pre- dominantly outward direction have been scientists and have discovered many facts about the external world, including the relations of thoughts, that are of the greatest advantage to all persons who can properly assimilate these facts. The grossest of these are the discoveries and inventions of the phys- ical sciences of today, as a result of which there has been so much constructive and destructive mechan- ical work done. The gross physical inventions and discoveries can be assimilated by very ordinary minds. But there are other scientific discoveries which concern solely the human psyche — discov- eries that cannot be easily assimilated by the mind without a high degree of mental energy. The tele- graphs, telephones, railways and factories show that this kind of invention can be handled by almost any one. But it is not so with the latest psychological con- ceptions, nor with the most recent conceptions in pure physics, e. g., the theories of Einstein. And the concepts of the most modern psychology of the unconscious also require for their assimilation si high degree of ability to think two or even more series of thoughts at the same time. The concepts? of psychoanalysis are more complicated than thoso used in any other set of principles, just because tho human system is more complicated than any othef ' vital system in the world. / THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN UI^GE lOi § 3. Non-conscious Ideas and Feelings The existence of ideas and feelings, even though they are not in consciousness, is an absolutely in- icontestable fact. Saying that they are in con- sciousness may be a figure of speech, but represents a real fact, without which no experience is pos- sible. When they are not " in " consciousness^ they are in some other place, which we call the " Un- conscious." Whether it is a. place or not, or whether w^e imagine the ideas and feelings as merely dormant cells in brain or nerves, which, when elec-^ trified, produce consciousness, matters little. At any rate the point is that, like moths about a light at night, these things we call ideas, thoughts, feel- ings or any other mental state or activity, come and V / go, and have just as real an existence, whether or ^ ^ V^ not they have previously been seen or in any other way apperceived. A certain amount of energy is necessary of course \ ta make a transit from the unconscious into con- \ scions life, or, in other words, for a stimulus to cause an actual sensation. An enormous amount of physical energy is probably absorbed from the ex-- ternal world and transformed into mental activity V which never reach-es consciousness. Proofs for the -^"""^^ unconscious mentality are unnecessary to give here, as they are amply given in other books-. No psy- choanalytical investigation is ever carried on with- / out discovering an unconscious mental activity which has attached itself to some bodily function instead of being liberated into consciousness, or 102 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT into tlie external world through movement (uncon- scious) or action (conscious). The pressure of external stimuli upon the sen- sorium is only partly transformed into conscious- ness. A great part of the effects of natural ex- ternal causes, chemical, mechanical and other, is turned into bodily heat, the formation of various tissues and their secretions. What is turned into consciousness would, in view of the comparatively late appearance of consciousness in animal evolu- tion, be a very small part of the energy which is im- pinging upon the various receptor organs of the body, both external and internal. Those amounts of physical energy which fail to attain that mini- mum degree of summation which makes them avail- able for transmutation into consciousness, do never- theless constitute a very valuable and potent source of change and development in the human psyche. We may regard consciousness itself as in some sense analogous to a light in a dark night which makes things visible to the eye. A small candle will illuminate only a very small area, a stronger though more distant light may give greater illumi- nation over a greater area. The animal life is at- tracted by the light. Those living things which have the greatest curiosity will come nearest to the light and be most clearly visible. But the others exist and nature's grand economy is not altered even if no candle or arc light is present. Thus we may regard the groups of energy ordered into or- ganisms which unite to form the greater organism THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 103 of the human body. They come into existence and j perform their functions whether or not they are/ illuminated with the light of consciousness. But we believe that psychoanalytic technique is anal*- ogous to the intensification of the light in the forest at night. If we had certain friends who displeased us, and we sent them away from us into the dark so that we could not see them, we might find that they later turned into enemies and conspired with creatures of darkness to undo us. This is the nature of the activity of the emotions that are repressed into the unconscious. On the other hand an increase in the candle power of the light we were carrying might render visible some opposing forces lurking in the underbrush, which after observation and planning and training might be turned into friendly powers in place of being hostile. There is nothing like illumination for turning obstructions into a good roadbed. So that the conclusion is reached that conscious- ness may be extended in the sense not only of sud- \ den expansion like the intensification of light just / mentioned, but also of a possibility of moving about, / from one place to another in the night of the uncon- scious, a light of constant candle power. Such a person would be one who was willing to take his light in hand and fare forth in the night in quest of adventure. There are persons, too, whose light, through love, becomes suddenly brighter and there are others, the geniuses, whose light is originally, c 104 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT and for ever remains, intense, so tliat they see more clearly and more deeply into the nature of things and their causes. There is a jpitch.of activity of the unconscious mind which cannot be raised without making it either visible or audible or perceptible in some other sense quality. This represents consciousness, as ^^ it were, as a stationary thing with other things com- ing to meet it. If being furnished with a compara- tively large amount of energy, they succeed in ap- proaching near enough to the aura of consciousness, they may be said to enter consciousness of them- selves. But consciousness may be regarded, too, A as going out to meet things, in which respect, while ^ things are not stationary and some even flee at the approach of consciousness, they may still be illu- minated by its light and become visible. Such fugitive mental elements are the internal sensations. They flee at the approach of conscious- ness. Not only do they not enter consciousness, but many of them may not be caught. We are forced, however, to infer their existence and somewhat of their nature. We deduce certain modes of their activity and give names to them, and the act of nam- ing them tends to give them a " local habitation " and a clearer conception of their functions. We / get thereby a means of controlling them simply by i naming them, almost as if in so doing we organized ^ them and thus created out of an apparent chaos an organism or unit which before did not exist. As in algebra we perform many operations with unknown THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 105 quantities before we know their value, so we do in the study of the unconscious perform many opera- tions according to discovered principles before we can tell just what the nature and value of the un- known quality is in concrete and sensory terms. I said that a great amount of physical energy is absorbed from the external world and transformed into a kind of mental energy which never succeeds ' in reaching consciousness. It may be objected that the energy which does not reach consciousness can in no sense be called mental. Perhaps I should call it potentially mental energy. That absorbed into the body from the external world may be said to be on the pathway toward becoming mental in^ a sense impossible for the sunlight to be called po- tentially mental, when it melts a piece of ice. Pos- O sibly the animal organism is destined ultimately * to evolve into a perfect mechanism for transform- ing into mental energy or consciousness all the energy which affects it. Evidently that end has not yet been reached, but every form of physical energy that enters the human body through the multitudinous avenues is taking the first upward step toward transmutation into pure consciousness, just as the clod " climbs to a soul in grass and _^ . flowers." In this light every particle of human ^.J tissue is a source of at least potential mental (even jt=:(rX conscious) energy. What then is it that will actively, from the con- scious side, help to transform more of that poten- tially mental into perceptively actively mental . 106 man;s unconscious spikit (i. e., conscious) energy? This includes the ques- tion as to what will render conscious the stimuli exciting not only the external peripheral sense or- gans but also the internal peripheral sense organs. Or, otherwise stated, what will render conscious the internal impressions so as to enable them to be perceived as conscious sensations? The answer to the last question will be the same as that concern- ing the rendering conscious of any external sensa- tion, i. e., by means of the attention being directed to it by ideas expressed in words. A good illustration of the practically creative effect of verbally directed (conceptually directed) attention is the creation of constellations in the stars of the night. The ancient way was to imagine that some hero was taken up into heaven and placed there as a constellation. This expressed the fact that then for the first time were those infinitely dis- tant suns grouped mentally by the hearers of the myth. A modern parallel is heard every time a child is shown the dipper on a summer evening. Before this breathless occasion it is quite likely that the child has seen but been unconscious of all the seven stars. But after it, what had been po- tentially mental becomes actually mental or con- scious. § 4. R^assodation Similarly we are taught not only to reassociate consciously perceived emotions with ideas other than those with which they were originally asso- ciated, but we are taught to feel emotions of which, r. THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 107 previous to instruction, we were totally uncon- scious, and this in addition to the emotions so numerous at the time of puberty, which force them- selves upon us in forms consciously mental to be sure, but many degrees removed from the direct causes. Those who read the steadily accumulating litera- ^ ture on the sexual instinct cannot but be impressed by the multifariousness of the ways by which the instinct enters consciousness, to what remarkable ideas and inferences it gives rise, and how the same condition inspires one person with repugnance and another with pleasure ; furthermore how frequently in the same person a sensation evidently caused by a purely sexual internal sensation can be trans- formed from a pleasure into a pain and vice versa. In this we have a very strong proof not only of the existence of potentially mental states in this sphere (and why not also in any others?), but also of the ready .transmutability of the feeling into its opposite; unless indeed we choose to believe that pleasure and pain, as they are productive of ana- bolism and catabolism respectively, are the con- scious forms of two separate and mutually exclusive internal sensations. "^ "" § 5. Occurrence The occurrence into consciousness of things that have been perceived unconsciously before is a very noticeable phenomenon. I am sitting thinking and suddenly realize that it is 5.15, at which time I am 108 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT to ^ something different. I am asleep in bed and suddenly wake up and find it is '6.30 at which time I had determined to get up this morning. I am talking with a person, listening and replying, and suddenly get the idea that he is insincere in what he says. I am reading in the winter afternoon and suddenly realize that it is too dark to read with comfort, and I turn on the light. I am going into a store to buy something and suddenly realize that I have not enough cash with me. I am working with the greatest enthusiasm and suddenly note that I am both hungry and stiff and tired. I am talking with a girl and suddenly realize that her teeth or her eyes ( or anything else I ) are much pret- tier than I had ever thought them before. I was listening to a new record on a phonograph. I thought it was the AngePs Serenade of Braga, when suddenly to my chagrin I realized that it was the Bach-Gounod Ave Maria. All these are sudden entries into consciousness, some of them with and some without an emotional tone. But they are entrances of something which was in the unconscious a minute before. In the case of the day growing darker, there was a dimin- ishing stimulus. In that of the girl there was an increasing stimulus, in that of the absence of money an unchanging stimulus! In all cases, however, the stimulus was present, in the unconscious part of the mind, quite a while before it came into con- sciousness. So it appears to make no difference what the change in stimulus is, or whether, as in THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN UKGE 109 the case of the money, there is no change! For consciousness however to continue, there must be a change in consciousness, as it has been shown over and over again that without change of quality there is no consciousness. The change then must be in me. In the money illustration the change is because a new desire for money has developed in me. In the case of the girl, she has talked with me long enough for me to note unconsciously her hair, her forehead, her nose, her chin, her neck, her ears. There has been a change in the number of stimuli entering conscious- ness. They have become more numerous. In the case of the approaching darkness there has been a change in real things. The light has actually grown less, and it has required more and more effort on my part to see things. In the case of the sudden realization of the time of day, the change is entirely mental. I mean the change which is constituted by the sudden realization of the time of day. It is entirely a matter of my own action and reaction, external reality not having changed in the least, unless we may say that the ticking of a dis- tant clock for about 15,000 times during the eight hours I was asleep was something that would be counted by me even in sleep, and would wake me up when the proper number had been ticked off, and that some variety of alarm bell was rung by the un- conscious to arouse me. If the ticking of a distant clock, inaudible even to attentive consciousness, or the striking of the hours is the change in external y fK o 110 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT reality which causes me to wake up, this requires us to suppose that the unconscious has powers not ordinarily attributed to it. On the one hand it must be supposed to be able ^^ to perceive intensities which are too low for con- sciousness to perceive. This is, however, quite con- ceivable when we consider how all sensation is a form of consciousness which is caused by 'the sum- mation of impressions which are severally imper- ceptible. Thus the vibrations of the air or the ether which separately make each an impression upon some part of the end organ of the ear or the eye are not perceptible to consciousness. It is only a fusion of these separate impressions which makes a sensation of tone or of colour. On the other hand we shall have to attribute to the unconscious part of the mind an ability to count the hours as they are struck in the other room, or at least an ability to recognize six from any other number. Another instance of the power of the unconscious to do what consciousness cannot do is seen in the ability of ^a person to understand more than he can express. This is seen in the comparative ease with which one can learn to understand what is said in a foreign language, even though one cannot speak it as well as one can understand it. It is quite the opposite in learning to write shorthand and to telegraph. One can learn much more easily to send messages and to write shorthand than one can learn to read what is written or to take down the tele- THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN UKGE 111 graphic message. But in the case of spoken lan- guage, there is no doubt that the words of a for- eigner are more easily understood than replied to, and the reason lies in the fact that much of what is heard is not clearly or completely heard. The unconscious of the hearer detects what is inaudible to him consciously and supplies the meaning by other channels than sound. In the native pro- nunciation of a foreign language some of the sounds which are made are in colloquial conversation so slurred over as almost to constitute different sounds and the total effect of the part of the word that is audible to consciousness is quite different from the full words as they are expected by consciousness. There is the further consideration that a great many if not all children in learning to talk their mother tongue are continually talked to by adults who use words which the children do not under- stand separately. In context they are understood. This may indicate that understanding consists in the ability to react appropriately with actions, not words. In this case the words as words need hardly be understood at all, and the proper use of them as words may not ever be learned. But from i ^ their earliest infancy all children are continually talked to as if they understood and finally they understand. The final understanding comes some- J^ times in a flash of illumination which is almost a surprise to the child. It can be only that there is a long process of building up of relations between words and acts, and until the building is finished <3t' 112 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT no part of it is, so to speak, visible to consciousness. The becoming conscious of a relation is a unique experience associated with a distinctly pleasurable feeling. There is this source of pleasure frequently to those who have the occasion to study the history of words and learn the relations in which things were held by other people in bygone times. Fre- quently this sudden becoming aware of a similarity or a difference is quite unaccountable and one won- ders why one has not seen the relation before. Such a sudden emergence came to my mental eyes recently when I seemed for the first time to realize that ^^ servant " and " conservation " are both de- rivatives of the word " sei^ve " which meant in Roman times to watch or guard. But such is the present character of servants that one expects very- little conservation in their actions. Occasionally too one comes upon a bit of poetry in the history of a word which is impossible to read without knowing the word's history. Nuance is the same word with but a metaphorical change of meaning as the Latin NuheSj, a cloud. What richness of imagery may one not arouse in one's mind by the memory of that origin for that word. And sometimes w^e find in the history of a word a humorous touch as from that of caterpillar which is our present burnished pronunciation of cattus pillatus or " hairy cat." My notion is that a great many of such relations are under favourable conditions as readily manifest to consciousness as is the relation between " serv- THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 113 ant " and " conservation/' but that on account of the opposition such as is felt between those two ideas of servants and conservation the verbal re- lation is entirely obscured or is forced into the un- conscious, where, however, it is none the less clear. To one who knows the meaning of presbyopia (old man's sight defect) the original meaning of pres- byterian (pertaining to a council of old men) is probably quite ready in the unconscious, and needs only some illuminating situation to bring it into consciousness. Similarly for senior and senate. The bond between joy, jewellery, and gaud is not so likely to emerge on account of the difference in the spelling and pronunciation of the words, while in non compos and nincompoop it is a matter of in- dividual vocabulary. But the relations between things are always evi- dent to the unconscious, that has received retinal photographs of them, or indeed any kind of sensory reports of them. Of certain relations of things most of us become conscious only after our atten- tion is called to them. Observation is the name ap- plied to a trait in persons into whose mind such re- lations either come naturally or have been intro- duced by training. Classical examples of this sun- burst of consciousness are Archimedes' " Eureka," when it suddenly occurred to him in his historic bath tub that specific gravity w^ould test the gen- uineness of King Hero's crown, and Newton's real- ization that the moon and the apple were both drawn toward the earth by the same force. 114 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT Every one can give illustrations from his own experiences how certain old familiar sights have suddenly " struck " him with a new meaning. The appropriateness of this violent word is quite evi- dent. The significance of certain things sometimes blazes out with lightning illumination and arouses the emotion which goads one on to action. The blindness of average humanity to the relation of identity is illustrated by the use of the formula appended to many notices : " This means you ! " The blindness of them that have eyes and yet see not, and the feeling of surprise when they do see is illustrated by the school child who was amazed to learn that the Mississippi River she was learning about in her geography lesson was the same Missis- sippi that ran past her back door. § 6. Current Conscious Psychology Picture a rope 100 feet long hanging from a cross- beam over a well more than 100 feet deep. If the visible part of the rope is pulled sidewise and re- leased, it will fly back to its original position be- cause of the weight of the 95 feet of invisible rope. Presently the visible part of the rope will be seen to vibrate, although untouched. The observer, if ignorant of almost every principle of physics, might very well be " amazed " at the rope moving itself again and again with gradually decreasing ampli- tude. He could not see the part of the rope hang- ing in the well, and possibly " to gain some private end " of self-mystification, might refuse to think of THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 115 the possibility of there being any rope below the surface of the ground. We might tell him that we know it is there; we saw it before it was lowered into the well ; we put it there ourselves, or anything else; but he would not believe it. So persistently does he deny it that we begin to wonder what may be the private end he may be wishing to gain, which prevents him from inferring the almost obvious. Possibly he may have some unpleasant associations with ropes' ends and may wish to believe that ropes have not any unattached ends! So persistently have the conscious philosophers denied the exist- ence of the unconscious, because it is immeasurable, / invisible, imperceptible and only inferential. And yet Ktilpe (page 446) speaks of the "co- operation of unconscious incentives to reproduc- tion '' as nothing unusual, and (450) says: "Em- , pirical psychology has no occasion to endow this I unconscious with any but a purely physiological existence. We have only found one case which seems to contradict this rule : the case in which an unconscious state exerts a perceptible influence on consciousness. But here we really have a conscious process, whose sole difference from the other con- scious processes of the time is its impossibility of separate perception. There are two connections in which these unconscious components are especially important : those of fusion and attention. The con- stituents of the conscious field of regard in the state of attention generally form an unanalysed total impression ; though any alteration or disappearance 116 MAN^S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT among them is remarked at once. The ^ uncon- scious ' in this sense is therefore, in reality some- thing conscious, something which contributes in noticeable degree to the psychical process of the moment. It is essentially different from the ^ un- conscious,' in the strict meaning of the term, of which we can only say that it may possibly serve as an incentive to the reproduction of the experience with which it was once correlated. In the process of apperception in particular, the number of uncon- scious constituents in the total sum of incentives to reproduction may be very considerable." And on page 452 : " The connection and interpretation of the dream consciousness is so essentially differ- ent from those of the ideas of the waking life. There is no will to direct and regulate the train of thought." Such statements as these give us a clue to why the experimental conscious psychologists of the re- action time variety are so resolutely unwilling to consider the paramount importance of the uncon- scious. They would have to change so much of their systems, would have to unsay so much of them- selves as to amount practically to self-annihilation. Their ideas in large numbers would have to be con- signed to the scrap heap, and scrap heaps are not popular except with more progressive communities. This is the reason why psychoanalysis is not taught in most colleges and universities. It is too new and too radical, and requires too much readjustment on the part of both teacher and student. THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN UKGE 117 § 7. The Unconsoious an Hypothesis The unconscious is of course not a state of mind of which we can become directly aware. It is, on the other hand, a working hypothesis, a supposi- tion necessary to explain the sequence of thoughts in the stream of consciousness ; but, as a hypothesis, it has worked so well that a great many extraor- dinary thought occurrences in normal waking life are explained by it. Also the bizarre and appar- ently disconnected episodes of the dream of the night have been shown, by this theory of the un- conscious, to have a psychological, if not always a formal logical, connection. And in abnormal psy- chology the utterances and acts of those suffering from even the major psychoses are better under- stood by means of this theory, which posits that the ideas which occur to the dementia precox patient occur according to the same laws that govern the most logical and intellectual productions of the highest type of mental development. Before a thought enters- consciousness it can hardly be termed a thought, but is more like an in- definite yearning for something, a sense of dis- satisfaction with life in general, or if, for a consid- erable time, it fails to achieve expression as thought or act, it is in consciousness only as a mild anxiety or mental restlessness. It is like a shapeless cloud on the horizon on an otherwise clear day, or like a filmy veil of cloud which sometimes in September afternoons comes before the sun, and we suddenly 118 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIEIT realize that the sun is not as bright as we thought it was. On looking up we see the thin " mackerel sky " cloud effect. By inference from our own experience and from that of a number of other observers, which is be- coming larger every year, we can see the work of the unconscious in some people clouding their mental sky, in others shining like the noonday sun. But while the theory of the unconscious is only an inference from consciously observable facts, it is an inference of so highly logical a character that no one has successfully assailed it or shown that it is in any way fallacious. § 8. An Illustration To give a concrete illustration of the deduction of the unconscious activity from conscious acts or words, I will cite the following case communicated to me by a lady. She was marketing and bought some damsons at the fruit store — a basket for sev- enty-five cents and other fruits amounting to a dol- lar and a half. She paid for them and left the store. After walking for a block or two she was seized with the idea that she had been overcharged twenty-five cents by the dealer for the damsons. Forgetting that they had been priced seventy-five cents, and now thinking that they were fifty cents, she wrote out the items on a piece of paper, took it back to the dealer and showed him the sum total, now a dollar and a quarter. Her manner of telling her story was so convinc- THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 119 ing that he looked probably only at the sum, took her word for it, and gave her back the quarter that she said was due her. The reason why she promptly forgot the real price of the damsons, sev- enty-five cents, will appear from what she next did. She went to another store and spent all the money she had in her purse for some other articles. If she had not had the extra quarter she took in from the fruit dealer, she would not have had enough to pay for the most important purchase of her marketing, something she very much wanted to have for lunch. After she went home, it suddenly flashed upon her •that seventy-five cents was the right price for the damsons after all, and she was quite chagrined that she had unconsciously cheated the fruit dealer. This one incident would not reveal the uncon- scious motives underlying the forgetting of the real price of the fruit, but when thousands of other slips of memory have been examined from the point of view of the theory of the unconscious, it is quite evident that the lady's unconscious controlled the situation to the extent of making her forget the price. It also caused her to believe (because she unconsciously wished) that the damsons were fifty cents a basket, and it drove her to shave off the price off these, which she was going to turn into jam at considerable labour, and add it to the amount which without it would not have been sufficient to buy something else that she wanted very much. It is quite as if her unconscious had spoken to her in so many words, saying : " It would be nice, 120 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SFTRIT if these damsons were only fifty cents; so let us make believe they are, and persuade the dealer that he has overcharged us." This incident is the more remarkable because the lady was not consciously aware that she had not enough money in her purse to pay for what she w^anted to buy at the second store. She was seized with the idea solely of the overcharge, while walking from the first store to the second, thus unconsciously cheating the first man in order to pay the second, without knowing either that she was cheating him or why she was. The reason must be quite evident to the reader by this time, but it occurred to the lady only after she had arrived home. The dominating wish in this episode was of the self-aggrandizement character and belonged to the enlargement of the objective self, which is seen in the tendency to acquire real things, and it caused a sudden oblivion of one very clearly conscious fact, and the emergence into consciousness of an utterly erroneous idea, with, however, such vividness and force that it made her stop, and prepare a written document, which was probably the most convinc- ing argument she could have used on the very pre- occupied fruit dealer. It made her retrace her steps, carry out the really ridiculous farce with the man, and enabled her to go home triumphantly with what she actually wanted more than she did the damsons. It made her write on her paper " Damsons .50 " and read it to herself as " Dam- sons seventy-five cents," just as it makes other peo- THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 121 pie see what is not there and not see what is there, errors that are constantly being made by every one all the time. Errare est liumanum, but one never errs against the interests of the unconscious. ^i-Cj, As a reply to those who may say that sometimes mistakes are injurious or even fatal to the one who makes them, I would cite the statements of those physicians who have examined the mental condi- tions of people who fall and hurt themselves, or who make faulty actions of almost any kind. In almost all the cases of those misfortunes analysis has shown that there was an unconscious wish grat- ified in the end, not necessarily a wish to fall and be injured, but an unconscious wish to receive at least some of the favours and attentions claimed by and bestowed upon the unfortunate. § 9. Accidents In a sense then there is no such thing as an acci- dent. Had the unconscious wish of all the persons concerned in the inspection of equipment, the actual running and observance of signals in the case of the train that breaks a wheel or a rail, or runs past a signal and collides with another train standing on the same track — had the unconscious wishes of all these persons been upon the same goal, the precau- tions against disaster would have been so numerous as to make disaster impossible. If the elevator which dropped fifteen stories and killed some and injured many others had been inspected the day before by a man whose unconscious wishes were all y / 122 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT centred upon the safe transportation of passengers in elevators, the cable would not have snapped, because his unconscious wish would have made him examine it with the greatest care. And again if elevator accidents were much more common than they are, the unconscious wishes of a large number of people would put it into their heads to take concerted action in the matter and secure better inspection or heavier cables or more efficient safety stops. There is no doubt of the fact that many accidents attributed to carelessness are the result of the un- conscious wishes of one or more people that the accident would happen. Carelessness is but the absence of the conscious wish. Care means the presence of the wish or desire. There is also no doubt of the fact that to wish for a thing with all one's heart implies the con- currence of both conscious and unconscious wishes. To wish for success with one's entire subjective and objective ego is to wish for it consciously and un- consciously at the same time. The conscious wish may be for the ownership of a house in the country. If a man says to himself : " I wish I had a place in the country ! " and does not express himself further in word or act, we may be quite sure that uncon- sciously (that is, with the greater part of his per- sonality), he does not want a home in the country. In fact the conscious verbal expression of this wish is many times, though not always, a direct indica- THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN UKGE 123 tion of tlie man's unconscious desire not to be both- ered with suburban or rural ownership. For, if he really did want it, ideas would continually occur to him showing him how he could take steps to get his house. The very fact that in reading his morn- ing newspaper his eye lights on an advertisement of such a house as he would like to own, and in an- other column happens to notice that some stock he owns has gone up a few points, — the mere fact that a casual perusal of a newspaper brings out these two points shows at once that in two instants of his conscious thinking he has been almost completely controlled by his unconscious wish for a house in the country. It shows that there are at least two sections of his unconscious mind that are ready to steer into the focus of attention whatever factors they can toward the purchase. § 10. Another Illustration A professional man of an improvident nature moved from a flat in a large city to furnished rooms in a suburb, where he proposed to live for an in- definite time, meanwhile keeping his eye open for a good chance to rent a house, where his wife and child of three could have more wholesome surround- ings. The unconscious wish to buy was very slight, though he told his friends that he was going to have Si house in the country. Consciously he thought he wanted only to rent, as he had been un- fortunate in previous real estate holdings in the 124 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT same suburb, and at this time he was not only without funds but was actually considerably in debt. But he found when looking about the town that rents were exorbitant for undesirable places and that really very few houses were for rent, while almost every third house in town was for sale at an extremely high price. His furnished rooms on the other hand cost him more than he had paid for his flat in the city. His wife very much dis- liked the rooms and the people from whom he rented them. Consciously, therefore, his situation was such as to make him see the desirability of owning a house, but he could not seem to get any ideas as to how to proceed about financing it. Now the born finan- cier can interest the capital of other men and can amass a fortune out of nothing. Ideas of manipu- lations come to his mind in large numbers unbid- den and nothing escapes him. He does not think out his schemes consciously only, but they come into his head fully formed and the means of carrying them out have been observed by him perhaps years before, and the memories stored in his mind ready for the suitable occasion. Not so, however, with the improvident profes- sional man in question. He was deeply absorbed in collecting words for a special dictionary of trade terms. It did not occur to him to examine the real estate market thoroughly. It did occur to him to add to his collection of terms. His wife on the THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN UKGE 125 other hand studied the advertisements in the local paper and upbraided him constantly for his lack of enthusiasm on the house idea. Her persistence drove him to a local bank president for advice as to how to raise funds. This man told him he ought to wait two or three years before buying a house as the market was at top prices and 'in that time there would be a decline. This he took for gospel truth. He would not have accepted it, if it had not \ coincided with his unconscious wish, which was / predominantly against ownership. What occurred to his mind about owning a house was the thought not only of having to run his own furnace, which he would have to do in a rented place, but also of taking care of the outside of the house, painting it, replacing gutters and leaders, mowing the lawn, etc., all of which made the ownership idea unaccept- able to a physically lazy man. In reality he did not I care except superficially and verbally about his j wife's discomforts in the furnished rooms. He was not in them over much. Unconsciously then the situation was very unpropitious for his taking any very efficient measures for getting a house. Stung by his wife's continued railing he went and inter- viewed some rich friends and acquaintances, un- consciously picking out those who, as he should have known, were most unlikely to help him. Besides the high cost of renting and the fewness of the houses to be rented, to which I have referred, another factor entered into the situation. On walking through a pleasant street on the outskirts 126 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT of the suburb he and his wife came to a new, still unoccupied but very small and perfectly equipped house. By the merest chance the door happened to be unlocked and they walked in and saw it with the greatest interest. It had every modern con- venience and was in all respects a most desirable dwelling. His wife mentally placed their furni- ture, then in storage, in the places which the pieces would occupy if they owned the house. The wife said : " This would be our room, and this would be Theresa's and this little one I could have for my sewing room." To which he replied : " Yes, my dear, how nice.'' His own unconscious wishes were not even then much enlisted, for when they re- turned that afternoon to their furnished rooms, he said : " That house is too small, too far from the centre of the town, too lonely, you would never be content there yourself. You would be afraid to stay there with Theresa all night alone. Besides I could not buy it. The man wants too much equity." Thus things went along for a month until sum- mer time. The first of July came. The husband picked out a few more impossible acquaintances and told them his plan, how he would borrow the money from them and pay them back so much every year, give them 7 per cent, on their money and the deed to the house until he had paid back what he bor- rowed. He went to the wrong people, even to a couple of real estate agents who admitted that they had once done that sort of thing but frankly said THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 127 that now that they had made so much money they did not have to take this means of increasing their sales. Manifestly his unconscious was not yet wishing to own a house. ' The unconscious situation, however, unex- pectedly changed. It occurred to him that he did not himself like the furnished rooms. They were dark, north rooms. He planned to go away for the summer and he suddenly realized that he would have no chance while away, to do anything at all about a home, that he would at the end of the sum- mer return to his professional work without either a city flat or a suburban house and be literally homeless. He recalled vividly the difficulty he had had in finding even these undesirable rooms, and — then he went one day to an old school friend of his whom he had not seen in 25 years, laid before this man his scheme of repayment in instalments. His friend said : " Surely, old man, any time you wish, any amount you want, and I don't have to sell any securities to get the cash ready either.'' Thus did the improvident professional man's unconscious ex- ecute a right-about face, and immediately suggest the names of several old friends, the first one of whom most gladly and graciously acceded to the proposition which he had presented in the same way to a dozen other persons. The proverb " Where there's a will there's a way " is cryptic. To be translated into modern analytical psychological terms it should read : " If the unconscious wish is directed to a certain object, 128 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT a multitude of ideas about means of acquiring that object will spontaneously present themselves to consciousness." But I will admit that the brief and alliterative original is easier to remember than the translation into psychological language. The improvident professional man of this story woke up with extraordinary suddenness to the actual situation that was encompassing him. Ab- sorbed in his dictionary dream, he did not realize, until almost the day of leaving the suburb for his summer vacation, that he would be in a very em- barrassing position when he returned in the fall. His realization of his situation, however, was ac- companied by the unconscious mental activity be- coming centred about the one idea of owning the little house in which his wife had imagined their chairs and tables as standing, and he went straight to the right man, borrowed the necessary money and bought that house with it. Since that time he has realized too that it has been for him a money saving scheme, for at the end of a few years he not only paid back his friend but had become thrifty himself instead of improvident. But there was an unconscious reason why this man was improvident. Consciously he would have told any one that of course he wanted to have money and prosper in a financial way. Who wouldn't? But unconsciously he was not desirous of having money for he was unhappily married. He did not really want his wife to have luxuries-, and he knew that if he had money she would demand and he THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN UKGE 129 would have to give her whatever luxuries she wanted. He was not one of those men who go ahead and make money and never let their wives know how much they earn or gain in speculation. So that although he inherited some, it was soon dissipated, after which they lived a hand to mouth existence, the man always protesting that he couldn't earn enough, which meant he didn't want to, the wife always telling him he was a brilliant man and could earn all he wanted if he only would. They were both right. He could not because he did not unconsciously wish to. He could earn all he wanted, because he did earn all he unconsciously wanted, and got most of his satisfactions from the notably efficient and economical way his wife man- aged the home, bought an automobile on the in- stalment plan and in a truly marvellous way made a really small amount of money perform almost a miracle in providing creature comforts and even luxuries. These two illustrations of the lady and the dam- sons u«d the improvident professional man clearly show the objective facts from which are deduced the unconscious wishes in both personalities, but of course in a very small section of the personal- ities. There is no doubt at all that the unconscious \ wishes of every person are the only explanation of ! the otherwise inexplicable in human conduct. We / all do things every day which are from the con- '' scions point of view irrational. Judged by really conscious logical standards these acts are irritat- 130 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT ing in their lack of consecutiveness and rational purpose. We see them in the whims of childhood, the caprices of youth, the prejudices of middle age and the crotchets of senility. § 11. Magnification The magnification of his subjective ego if carried to its limit makes the individual believe he is, or is on a par with, divinity. To be omnipercipient is almost if not quite equivalent to being omniscient and omnipotent. If I could, I would look in a crystal in my home in New York and see some rob- bery being committed, in any place whatever, say Chicago. With my hyperesthetic vision I would follow the robber and note what he did with his loot, and then where he betook himself. I would arrange by telephone for his immediate apprehen- sion and the recovery of the stolen property. I would receive the reward offered for both, and the next night I would do the same thing. I could easily make from one to five thousand dollars a day doing that. I would be consulted by all the great detectives and secret service men. I would buy a larger and more perfect crystal if that had any- thing to do with it. I would continue, year after year, until either robbery would be manifestly absurd, because every act would be instantly de- tected by my all-seeing eye, or my methods and success would be duplicated by any other person or persons interested in thus subjectively magnifying their own ego, when there would be so many men THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 131 and women capable of doing the* same thing that even the thought of attempting any crime what- ever would at once appear ridiculous, and crime would vanish from the face of the earth. With enough people able thus, through crystals, to see what any one they wished to spy on was doing, there would soon be few people who would harbour any dishonest thoughts at all for fear of being branded as potential criminals and universally boy- cotted. Furthermore the world would consist of demigod crystal gazers and the rest of the people who would live in fear if not reverence of these. Who would not belong to the demigod class? But if crystal g^ing and telepathy were scientific facts and not merely beliefs inspired by unconscious wishes for subjective ego magnification, almost any one having an introspective, or introversional dis- position would be able to magnify his vision to the point of clairvoyance, and do what I have said above that I would do. If I could, I would lie on my sofa in my den in my house in New York City, would have my stenog- rapher take down the ramblings of my mind, and if these could be attuned to the telepathic waves emanating from some passion-shaken wretch I would see him in my vision as he started from some suburban barn with a horse and red wagon loaded with dynamite and window weights sawed into slugs by the oxyacetylene torch. I would, as I lay in a trance, utter these things into words. My secretary, also present while my stenographer was 132 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT recording my utterances, would at once call up the police, have the wagon driven into the middle of a large vacant space, or the machinery of the time clock stopped and thirty lives and four hundred injuries in Wall Street would be saved. I would let my mind ramble on in my trance state in the presence of my stenographer and my secretary and avert calamity after calamity. I would detect every " red " thought in the minds of every Bol- shevist and Anarchist on the eve of every one of their senseless perpetrations; or I would start a glass and explosion insurance company of my own and become a millionaire in a few weeks. If I could, I would lie reposefully in the evening quiet of my darkened study, in the house in New York, and get telepathic communications from all who were taking unjust and unreasonable profits from the storage and sale of commodities. I would, if I could be that sort of medium, entrance myself every night and my secretary would the next morn- ing publish a list of all the persons who were ex- torting money by taking advantage of the ignorance and lack of self-control of their fellows. If I could have done so, I would have averted the Titanic disaster, given warning of earthquakes and volcanic eruptions and saved innumerable lives. I would have averted the world war. I would have enlisted the activities of mankind in much needed constructive work, both moral and material. If I could have done these things, there are thousands of other men and women with just as good feelings THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 133 for humanity who could have done them as well as I. Therefore they could not have been done, or they would have been done. Except, that were I as omniscient as all that, I should probably have let the whole thing go on as it did, earthquakes, eruptions both volcanic and social and everything else. Furthermore, if I could, I would communicate with the spirits of the departed, particularly with my two best college friends, H.M.H. and G.N.O., who have departed before me and I would have con- tinued our discourses on God, Freedom and Im- mortality. I would have done it frequently. I would have sent my whole family to the movies for at least one evening every week in order to learn from my two absent friends, who told me everything in their lives, without the least reserve, just how they were passing the time now and what they were thinking about; for their thoughts were more in- teresting to me than those of any people I have ever met since. If I could do this, so could others ; and no movies or any other form of public enter- tainment would be necessary or possible, for the tales they would tell would surpass in interest any- thing that one could pay money to see. If I could do this thing and it were a scientific fact, like telegraphy and telephony and gramophony or any other thing, anybody could do it. When radium was made by Curie, his description of his process enabled any other chemist having the same materials to make the same product. When Jenner 134 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT told others how to vaccinate, any physician could do the same. When serum therapy was discovered, every physician was in a position to use it. When telepathy is scientifically proved, all I have said that I would do, if I could, will be possible for me and for any other psychologist as soon as he reads the description of the proper method. It has not vyet been scientifically discovered. I infer that lack because of the fact that the method has not been described. This is not saying that it will not be discovered some day. I am not attempting a nega- tive proof, which is a very unwise thing to do. I am merely stating what would have to be possible before telepathy would rightly be regarded as sci- entifically established. § 12. Limit on Size However, there is no manner of doubt that the idea of telepathy is very firmly established, but that is quite another thing. It not only is established but it always has been established in the human mind simply as a result of the above-stated prin- ciple of the universal unconscious desire for the magnification of the individual subjective ego. In the preceding paragraphs I have shown the way in which the ego would be magnified, first the sub- jective, by extension of ability to perceive, and then the objective ego by the amassing of material wealth. It is evident that if the unconscious could have its crassest vegetative wish fulfilled, it would be by THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 135 simple growing of the individual body. We can but suppose that, if the impulse which drives on the tis- sues of the animal body could be called a wish, that the wish of any particular organ would be for mere proliferation of cells in such a way that the tissue of the organ would grow so large as to weigh down the rest of the body with its increased ponderosity, and that it is only the impossibility thus created of the rest of the body moving it and contributing to its development which operates as a check. As we are all of us, animals and humans alike, organisms that require a subjection of each part to every other part of the individual, the mere proliferation of cells in any one part, and its consequent dispro- portionate growth would destroy the balance of the whole, and render it incapable in the struggle for existence. But we must suppose that the uncon- scious wish for physical enlargement of any part of the animal body must inhere in that part or in its component elements; and we can therefore easily see that the unconscious wish for merely vegetative growth is one of the most fundamental of unconscious wishes, upspringing eternal in the animal system, and, as is always the case, forced to take a substitute aggrandizement for the original merely material one. Thus the enlargement of the objective ego is a substitute for that of the subjective. The amass- ing of material wealth, which is symbolic power, is a substitute for the generally unattainable physical predominance, attaining which the unconscious 136 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT would cease to issue to the vegetative life any im- pulses to grow in actual size. But the average hu- man is not of dominating corporeal size and in or- der to satisfy vicariously the unconscious wish to be so, he has to gather around him things that can be called by his name. § 13. Fission and Fusion The significant difference between animal and higher vegetable life on the one hand and all lower forms of life on the other is the difference between reproduction by fission ^ and reproduction by fu- sion. In the truly sexual reproduction, a new in- dividual is initiated by the fusion of two cells, while his growth and development is carried on solely by fission. The two original cells by their union form one cell which is the beginning of him as an individual, a single celled organism like other single celled organisms with, however, the essential difference that this one, formed by the fusion of two, does not split into two cells homogeneous in all their qualities but into two which differ in that they subsequently develop into two different parts of a whole. In the true fission reproduction any cell splits into two cells which are homogeneous in all qualities and these into four similar ones, these into eight and so on. Now when the individual that is the result of fusion of two cells, has split into two, four, eight, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256, 1024, 2048, etc., cells, all these cells appear to have dif- 1 Boiryokinesis. THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 137 ferent potentialities for producing different parts of the organism constituting the individual until at any rate the several parts reach their maximum of growth. What it is that prevents this maximum from being much larger than it actually is, is not clear, but there would have to be an end to it for the fol- lowing reason. The individuals composing any species can not reproduce other individuals except by means of the fusion of the male cell and the female cell, the zoosperm and the ovum. In order to attain the greatest possible cross fertilization, the males and females must be of a more or less average size (or an inordinately large male would not fertilize but kill a small female, and a small male could not fertilize an inordinately large fe- male). But if it happened that a male and female went on growing to such size that they were ten times the size of the average and they met and reproduced their kind, the huge children of that union would have no others except their own broth- ers and sisters with which to mate, and would there- fore suffer the fate of extreme inbreeding which is eventual extinction. So we may say that it is the necessity of fusional reproduction that puts an end to individual cor- poreal aggrandizement. The proliferation of cells by fission is stopped for the sole purpose of per- mitting reproduction by fusion. The male and fe- male cells in the animal body thus have a power of veto over the continuous enlargement of the groups 138 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT of other cells. How this is effected is not known. We can only see that it must be so. Then, when the growth of the individual male and female has reached a point which might be called the specific point, the growth in mere size automatically stops and the impulse is no longer for growth but towards fusion. In the adult animal, from the time of his reach- ing adulthood until the time of his involution or gradual disintegration all the impulses springing from the interaction of all the parts of his body are toward the goal of the fusional reproduction not of himself but of other individuals. Normally he stops desiring increase of size as an individual while his separate organs may in themselves still have the unconscious impulse to continue to in- crease their own size. § 14. Unconsciousness as Omnipercipient The unconscious is constantly receiving impres- sions from the external world while consciousness is not. This does not merely mean that we hear when we are asleep, but even when most awake we may be consciously absorbed by sounds and quite unaware of multitudes of sights that pass before our eyes. We are visually asleep, so to speak, while acoustically awake. Or, vice versa, we may be asleep to sounds while awake to sights. Further- more, we are continuously asleep now to some, now to others of the impressions coming through the various avenues of sensation. But the unconscious THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 139 is never asleep to any of them and, in addition, has avenues of sense to which the conscious life has never been awakened and, as it is a logical machine, it is constantly making deductions and other in- ferences about the factors of the environment.^ For example, in a human supposedly, for argu- ment's sake, capable of a growth in perfectly sym- metrical proportion to a size ten times greater than normal we may imagine that when he has grown 10 per cent, greater than the average, his uncon- scious, to speak figuratively, calls a halt on this mere growth-for-size business, and says to the vari- ous tissues and organs making him up : " Look here, this increase has got to stop. If you go on increas- ing you will not be able to get a single girl to marry you. You'll never find one big enough for you. Your individual organs and tissues are only parts of a machine that is made for reproducing your own kind. You want your own peculiar traits of character perpetuated in offspring. You can't \ yourself live for ever. Your only immortality is j in your children and grandchildren and theirs. / If you'll have the sense to stop growing before you collapse for sheer weight you'll have a chance to live for ever in your offspring." Now the uncon- scious which has figuratively said all that is dom- inated by the will to live, not a will merely to grow, and proceeds to interest the organism as a whole in some likely female. And the organism consents to stop growing and marry so it can live. If it 1 See Wilfrid Lay: The Child's Unconscious Mind, page 19. 140 MAN^S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT went on growing merely, it would surely die not only individually but racially. But the unconscious that sees all that the eye sees, which is more than consciousness sees, that hears all that comes into the ear, which is more sounds than the conscious ego is aware of, the un- conscious that thinks all day and all night, whether or not conscious thinking goes on, realizes the dis- proportion of mere growth very much above the average, and stops it for its own purposes of repro- duction by fusion which is its only means of ag- grandizement and is independent of the enlarge- ment of the several organs and tissues severally, and is the dominating impulse in all animal life. All that I have said about the limiting of growth of the animal body being solely for the purposes of fusional reproduction which is the only aggrandize- ment directly sought by the unconscious applies, mutatis mutandis, to the aggrandizement of the ego whether subjective or objective. There is a pur- pose in limiting the enlargement either of our real estate or our thoughts, because such enlargement unfits us for the most wholesome intercourse, social, spiritual, and intellectual, with our fellow-men. There is an analogous fusional reproduction of so- cial relations which would be prevented by the un- limited mental growth of any individual. Geniuses are lonely and animals are sociable, therefore the genius is an abnormal animal. What I have said about the unconscious and its superiority over consciousness in the matter of THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 141 sheer capacity of perception will explain my atti- ture toward the so-called facts of spiritism. My thesis is that the medium is one who becomes con- sciously aware of more than does the average man and woman of what has been previously uncon- sciously perceived by him. It makes no difference what his distinctive per- formance is — going into a trance and saying things, or writing without knowing what he is writ- ing, or seeing visual images in a. crystal sphere. It is his peculiarity that makes him the object of ^ reverence and thereby increases his subjective ego. / And, as I have said in another place, the motives for becoming a medium are the unconscious ones of self-aggrandizement. If we could all become me- diums, and mediumship had no premium on it, some other end would be sought. The medium has found the way to attract to himself the greatest amount possible, for him, of human hero worship and mate-, ' rial gain, both of which are increases in his ego. § 15. The Medium as Unconscious It is quite evident that the innumerable impres- sions received not by consciousness, but by the un- conscious during twenty-five years, say, of constant impressionability will neither be remembered by the conscious ego nor recognized at once if they should be remembered. But it should not be overlooked by the student of psychological subjects that while an experience may never be recalled and recognized as an experience of one's own life, scientific investi- 142 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT gation of the most rigorous character has shown that such experiences may be, and sometimes are, revived and recognized under the peculiar tech- nique of psychoanalysis, after the lapse of as much as thirty years. Thus Ludwig Frank of Zurich has revived in his patients of 35 years memories of scenes and incidents that had occurred when they were 5 years old. Now the medium of 30-40 years old with even thirty years of impressions collected as a totality in his unlimited unconscious storehouse is, accord- ing to the theory of probabilities, going to have a rather large amount of human experience that will be quite similar to that of almost any one else, and his utterances, if they can be twisted and inter- preted ^ to apply to the experiences of other people are quite likely to seem more remarkable than mere coincidences of thought, but probability alone would show that in all likelihood they are not. In short, my thesis is that the verbal utterances of mediums are but the fortuitous emergence into the mediums' consciousness, or in some cases into the consciousness not of the medium but of those who listen to him while he is in his trance, the emergence into consciousness of experiences which have for years or decades lain buried in the me- diums' own unconscious, and these utterances are not the result of telepathic communication from the living or from the spirits of the dead. 1 It is observed in Chapter I, sec. 15, that not so very much twisting is necessary to change the fundamental symbols of un- conscious thought into each other. THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 143 Modern psychology is throwing more and more light on the unconscious and increasing the possi- bility of resuscitating in the individual memories which have lain dormant in him for years, and the results achieved show that there is in the content of the mediumistic messages a great similarity to N that of the ordinary unconscious of the average man and woman. § 16. Unconscious Wishes The cumulative effect of the unconscious wishes which keep pushing up from subliminal depths of the seon-olj. libido handed down to us from the dawn of the world is such that if our feeling of reality is not exceedingly normal and vigorous, if not only the evidence of all our twenty odd senses but also our knowledge of the significance of the re- ) lations of things in the external world is weakened / for us to more than an average degree, we succumb to the pressure of the wishes from within and are forced to believe what we know is not so. The poor fellow in the asylum, hounded for years with an unconscious sense of inferiority, a failure in his relations with all his social environment is finally forced to believe that he is the most powerful man in the world. Napoleon, and that all the actual hap- penings about him are ruses, deceits, and illusions. Strengthened by the constancy of his disappoint- ments, his wishes combine and incorporate them- selves, and completely dominate and control his feeling of reality. " It must be so, Plato, thou rea- 144 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT sonest well. Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, this longing after immortality? " The fate of the unconscious wish in the history of the human individual in the modern complicated social fabric is one of gradual repression begin- ning in the earliest infancy and continued with in- creasing force as the years go by. The funda- / mental unconscious wish for the magnification of ( the ego receives blow after blow and finally being \ unable to issue in this or that specific act which would increase some power of the individual at the same time decreasing or annihilating the same or a similar power of some other, the unconscious wish develops outward but in a concealed manner adopt- ing the guise of something different. Yet it is the same wish. The ancient Greeks represented in various poet- ical myths the frustration of this wish of man's to be too great for the environment, in stories which frequently had for their point the folly of aping the greatness of the gods. Thus Arachne, the skil- ful spinner, challenged Artemis, and for her pride was turned into a spider. Niobe's ego was so mag- nified by her numerous and beautiful children, that Apollo shot them all with his terrible bow, and Salmoneus, who aspired to make a thundering noise and flashing light in rivalry of Jupiter's lightning, was appropriately punished for his ambitions to be- come expansive in flash and detonation. The unconscious wish of the little child for mere extension of ego in all directions is natural and THE UNCONSCIOUS AS AN URGE 145 transparent and up to a certain age amusing. But the mother-spoiled child is a terrible thing and risks annihilation at the hands of the other mem- i^ers of his environment. Generally, however, the great / am of this early age begins to be gradually beaten into the average mould, and less ostenta- tiously to force his mere undraped, unvarnished ego into the view of other people. He begins very early to transform his mere expansivity into a dis- semination of virtuous actions, virtuous in that they are of some service to other people. Little children will be very helpful about the house but it is quite evident that the help element of their ac- tions affords them less satisfaction than the spread of their own activity over many objects, most of their good deeds being summed up for them in their ecstatic exclamation : " You see what / did do ! " Thus, however, is made the beginning of the subli- mation of the unconscious wish for self -aggrandize;:^ ment — the transmutation of their expanding ego into the real things of their environment — the sublimation of the baser metal of their self-wishes into the gold of social acts. But the outward drive from within is the same unconscious wish, no mat- ter what the actual concrete result in word or deed. It is the same stream that drives the mill, whether electric light or power, or brass or flour is the end- result. From this it is most natural to infer that what- ever is done by the individual whether it be crime or benefaction, money hoarding or altruism is quite 146 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT impartially to be attributed to the driving power of the unconscious wish. How it happens to lead one person to crime and another to the deeds of a good Samaritan is a matter of the individual his- tory of the psyche. It takes as much libido to com- mit a murder as to be the parent of a child. It f takes as much human energy to get out a thou- \^ sand page report of the sittings of a medium as to \ prepare for publication the results of any scientific ' investigation. If as much energy as has been de- voted to the study of dowsing, levitation, lekanom- ancy, telepathy, materialization and repercussion, had been used in more social and less abnormal di- rections we might have been better able to use and control the emotions of mankind. As chemistry evolved from alchemy and astron- omy from astrology, and certain branches of physi- ological psychology from phrenology, through the gradual shift from the emphasis on the wish, e. g., to produce gold from lead, to the emphasis on the observed relations between actual things, what was the thing made of, e.g., in other words from the purely pain-pleasure habit of thought to the reality principle in directed thinking,^ so there may evolve from the psychical research of the present day a /' practical result for psychology. But we should not deceive ourselves into thinking that it has already ^ come to pass or that we have knowledge where we \ only feel belief. 1 See Chap. VI, sec. 16. CHAPTER V THE MECHANISMS ^ Having now given enough illustrations to show the unconscious factor in operation in quite a num- ber of happenings of ordinary life, I shall have to proceed to the so-called mechanisms or observed tendencies in the unconscious mental activity. Based on the feelings of sameness or familiarity and reinforced by the errant feeling of reality, the activities of the mind going on constantly below the threshold of consciousness naturally proceed according to the principle of identification. This habit of unconscious mind results in many things in the objective world being felt to be the same as, or to have qualities similar to, the ego. If an impression received from an external stimulus is felt to be that of something similar to the ego, the identification may be said, by a figure of speech, to be centripetal. Indeed, psychoanalysts speak of it as introjection. If, on the other hand, an idea originating in the individual's mind is attributed as a true predicate of some external thing this cen- trifugal process is called projection. § 1. Association The association of mental activities includes that of impressions with impressions, of impressions with images and of images with images. Impres- 147 148 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT sions are associated with impressions according to their contiguity in time or space. External impres- sions are associated with internal impressions through the reflex arc. When an infant's open eyes are confronted with a bright light, he has the ex- ternal impression of the light, also the external im- pression of his eyes closing, also the internal im- pression of discomfort. Images are associated with impressions according to the same law of con- tiguity in time or space, and with each other they are associated by the feeling of sameness, another internal sensation. Whether there are any innate tendencies to associate internal impressions with external ones depends largely on what internal im- pressions are included. If we consider a natural reaction of dizziness as the internal impression as- sociated with visual motion of a certain type, it seems that we must say that some internal impres- sions are regularly associated with external ones. Those that we have observed to be uniformly thus linked, have been called reactions on reflexes. The others have been called conditioned reflexes. The internal impressions called emotions then fall under the conditioned reflexes. That is, they are ac- quired, the others being innate or hereditary. Of the acquired or conditioned reflexes or asso- ciations of mental activities, those that are acquired in the conventional manner, have no term that cor- responds to the unconventionally acquired ones which are called displacements. There is a class of what one might call centripetal THE MECHANISMS 149 associations of mental activities in which the ex- ternal stimulus becomes more intimately associated with the internal impression contiguous to it, as in the case of the child later to be mentioned who fears the block on a street where a dog barked at him. These associations of mental activities (e. g., the sight of the block in question and the internal im- pression called fear) constitute a linkage com- paratively unusual, and result in the image of the place having, for a time at least, persistently at- tached to it an emotion practically disadvantageous, that is, not helping the individual in his adaption to his environment. This type of association of mental activity is called introjection because the stimulus is regarded as introjected or, as it were, forcibly made to enter the minds of some persons, to an extent, or with a uniformity, not observed in others. If the persistence of this association of fear with a place for example is excessive, the con- dition is called abnormal, though it should not be understood that abnormal implies violation of any of nature's laws, the most extravagant cases of in- trojection being as much subject to the law of cause and effect as is any other association of mental ac- tivities. If, however, an internal impression, for example, a sense of guilt, is associated with another person ; if I am guilty and I believe that some other per- son knows of my guilt, this belief constitutes an association of a, so to speak, centrifugal nature and is called projection. The internal sensation or im- 150 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT pression of the guilt is projected upon the other person, not in the sense that he is guilty ; but in the sense that I attribute to him, without due cause, the knowledge I myself have of my own guilt. It is to be observed that here too the association of mental activities called projection should be called abnormal only in the sense of being exces- sive as compared with similar projections in aver- age people and in no way abnormal in the sense of contrary to Nature's laws. Both introjection and projection are universal with all people up to a certain degree varying for different circumstances. Thus the overvaluation of the object of love is a universal projection. It may be stated that both these associations, in- trojection and projection, are cases of identifica- tion, one centripetal, where the stimulus is identi- fied with the associated internal impression, the other centrifugal, where the external stimulus is identified with the image or internal sensation though it is neither the one nor the other. There is a distinction too between the identifica- tion on the one hand of an external with an internal activity such as that just mentioned, an identifica- tion which is called subjective (because something external is associated with something internal) ; and on the other hand the identification of two ex- ternal things. This second type, the external identification, is called transference, its classical illustration being the identification of teacher, clergyman, lawyer, physician, car conductor, or THE MECHANISMS 151 cicerone of any kind with the imago of the early representative of all knowledge, power and author- it}^ the father. In all associations of mental activities we have integrations of the things associated, the two or more mental activities associated tending to become unities in the sense of belonging to each other and, as it were, each constituting a part of a whole. Thus the impressions and images, very many in number, which constitute the infant's idea of its mother are integrated into what has been called the mother imago, an integration which tends to persist unchanged, in the unconscious, and in some individuals to retain its integrity for many years. If the integrations are ordinary, average, and practically universal in the social group, they be- long to the class I mentioned above as nameless, but which I might, on the analogy of their op- posites, call placements. If they are excessive, per- sistent over more than the average time, and pecul- iar or eccentric they are called displacements. § 2. Humans Subject to Natural Law If we regard all mental states and activities as taking place according to laws which are valid for those mental conditions and for ourselves in so far as we are those mental states and activities, and equally valid for all human and animal mental powers alike, we shall have to admit that we or any of us cannot change those laws capriciously even though we may be able to imagine them changed. 152 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT It is perfectly possible to conceive the opposite of everything that exists. We, on the contrary, are the phenomena of those laws, the illustrations of those principles. We are the data from which those general law s have been discovered, we and animals and plants and stones ; and it requires a very forceful argument to prove that these modes of mental action are different from the modes of action and from the conditions of the material universe. Psychical research is striving to prove that the laws of the material universe are not the same as those of the world of mind and spirit and this without adequately showing w^hat is the relation of mind or spirit to matter, and even incidentally what mind or spirit really is. For it cannot be defined apart from matter, in combina- tion with which alone we know w^hat we do of " spirit.'' The psychical researchers are present- ing us with a concept which they call spirit, with- out being able to describe it in terms of matter, because everything they say it can do that matter cannot do, is contrary to the obseiTed laws of mat- ter, and everything that they offer as a descrip- tion of it must be made necessarily in material terms. " Here,'' say they, " is an insect that can- not fly, it has no wings; that cannot walk, it has no legs ; that cannot swim, it has no fins ; that can- not reproduce sexually, it has no ova; that multi- plies by growing twice as large as it was and then breaking in tw^o in the middle." This is a very in- teresting insect, but it is so lacking in traits that THE MECHANISMS 153 we like to attribute to insects that it is almost if not quite impossible for us to call it an insect. We really could not call it so, scientifically. § 3. Personality Similarly the personality, evidence of which is offered as existing somewhere after the body is dis- integrated which we knew as the outward expres- sion of the spirit or character of the person we called, e. g., Betsy Binn. We cannot hear her voice or touch her hand or recognize any of her modes of thought, positively, though there may be analogies between what the medium says and writes and what Betsy Binn used to say and do. But these analo- gies are not greater than between any two people of equal cultivation, and if the medium even in her waking state, should say to us: "I'll act Betsy Binn for you ; I'll be your real old Betsy," she might if she lived with us long enough learn ex- actly how we liked our eggs done, and our house run in general and we could feel quite content with the medium Mrs. T. or Mrs. P., for if she tried very earnestly she might even out-Betsy our old Binn, and it would be " Bless thee, Betsy; thou'rt trans- lated I " But while she might really do better than our old cook, we should be eyed askance if we wrote a brochure in scientific language purporting to prove that the essence of Betsy Binn had added it- self to the essence of our present cook Mrs. T., and had given us unmistakable evidence of being no other than Betsy herself reincarnated in the now 154 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT active president of our kitchen. Some one might ask us what we thought was the scientific status of a body with two souls, when we w^ere not sure of the exact relation of any given body to even one soul. Multiple personality would be the answer of course. But would not almost any one if studied with the greatest care, and with the sole aim of discovering at least two personalities in his mind- body, would not almost any one be found to have at least two such well-defined personalities ^^ in him " if enough care were spent in the actual work of definition. Every separate one of the " step- ping stones of our dead selves," the layer after layer of our lives that has sunk into oblivion can, if enough analytical research is devoted to it, be isolated out and be called a separate personality, so that each one of us has as many personalities in storage so to speak, as he has had epochs or periods or episodes in his past life. A man lives his youth in England as a machinist, marries and has two children. His wife dies and he leaves his children in England to be educated, comes to Amer- ica and becomes a travelling salesman, marries again and has more children, loses wife and chil- dren, goes to Australia and becomes a farmer. And so on, as many times as you want. Now in each place he has quite different environment and shows a different personality. His English wife was clinging and he was cruel. His American wife was self-assertive and cowed him into specious THE MECHANISMS 155 meekness. His Australian wife was a butterfly and made liim madly jealous. His other wives and families — But is be one person or X persons? And what is his spirit? A common quality run- ning through his variegated life? Which shall we elect to perpetuity? Possibly some of the dazed- ness reported by " spirits " newly arrived on the " other side " is that of persons who are bewildered by the problem of finding out who they really are. Which circle of growth, if we had to choose one, should we call the tree? To return to the previous topic. If we regard human personality as the effect of the laws known to applied science, we shall have to attribute the same kind of mentality to animals and all other types of life as we do to humans though not in the same degree. Something like intelligence, some- thing like consciousness is observed in even the lowest orders of life. Plants act as if they per- ceived and reacted according to their perceptions. Atoms of hydrogen do not unite with atoms of \ oxygen because they are perceived by humans to do so. The chemical laws thus far observed are es- sentially objective and uninfluenced by human wishes. The physiological laws according to which we move and grow are not changed by any mental- ity which they themselves produce. Cells prolifer-\ ate and chemical combination takes place and thoughts arise from the unconscious, all according to unalterable modes of action, but not because of the feeling of similarity in one man's physical or- 156 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT ganism, that enables him to see what things are, to him, like what other things. A secondary personality is a repressed personal- ity and, as such, is an organization of tensions which strives to make itself known to consciousness, although it itself is in the unconscious because it has been repressed. Its means of disguising itself so as to pass the censor of consciousness consist in the symbolizations made possible by the existence of the feelings of sameness and similarity. The history of secondary personalities is that they have either been brought into the consciousness of the primary personality by means of hypnotism or have alternated, as in cases like that of Ansel Bourne, one with another without apparent external cause. The medium is evidently an example of multiple personality, the elements of which come into view of the observers through the trance, through auto- matic writing, through crystal gazing and other ways. It is obvious that the seance is a method very advantageous to the medium in which to allow now one and now another of the organization of tensions constituting the different secondary per- sonalities to come out in external expression. I consider the contortiotis and other physical mani- festations to be due partly to conventionalized dra- matic " business," partly to the emotions abreacted by the medium. Dr. Ludwig Frank in his book elsewhere mentioned, has given a vivid account of the intensely dramatic actions of his patients in the half sleep catharsis with which he treats them. THE MECHANISMS 157 The primary personality always has the best of reasons for repressing into the unconscious the material making up the secondary personalities. In the most of us this repression is almost com- pletely successful, the exceptions being our harm- less compulsions, phobias, superstitions and other idiosyncrasies. But in the case of the neurotic, whose repression is unsuccessful, the material of the secondary personality breaks forth as the neu- rosis, and in the medium it issues in his variegated performances. § 4. Unconscious Memory Constituted as we are now, however, in the twen- tieth century, we see and feel and act in certain ways that have been as yet but imperfectly de- scribed and scientifically correlated. I offer the suggestions, which have appeared to me to be made by my reading on the subject of the unconscious, by my own introspection, and the observation of other people analytically studied by me, sugges- tions concerning the inadvisability of making any definite statements, yet, about the post mortem or extra corporeal ante mortem existence or activity of that very hazy and indefinite thing called mind or spirit. All the stronger is the suggestion be- cause of the actual novelty of the facts discovered concerning the mind in us that sees what we are not conscious of seeing, that hears what we are not conscious of hearing, that feels what we are not conscious of feeling, and remembers what we are ^y 158 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT not conscious of remembering. Until that time shall come when it will be possible for each one of us to evoke from the past the memory of every sensation we ever had, and examine it for its bear- ing upon the so-called supernormal media of in- telligence, it will be impossible certainly to say that the " messages '' received by us in a medium's trance are anything else than messages from soma^ lower stratum of the medium's unconscious mem- ' ory, which, because of some factor, which at pres- ent we are only beginning to recognize and under- stand, the medium is able to deliver. The lower we go in the strata of unconscious memory, the farther back in the biography of the in- v_ dividual we go. If in some future time the im- pressions received in prenatal life are ever revived by one individual and compared with those received at a similar stage of development by another in- dividual, there is little doubt that they would be exactly alike and consist mainly of pressure and motion and dim indistinct sound. There would be no sight, no smell, no taste, no temperature, and little fulness and emptiness feeling. Similarly if we trace back, as has actually been done by psychoanalysts, the associations of mental states and activities in the individual to their earli- est occurrences, we find them all revolving about (p the central ideas of mother and father and brothers and sisters. In humanity the comparatively great length of the period of infancy, i. e., dependent post- natal life, makes it evident that this helplessness. THE MECHANISMS 159 joined to a comparatively active mental life, in eluding the incipient use of language, accounts for the fact that we are all cast in the same mould, all thinking about the same things, all having prac- tically the same impressions for five to seven years, all actuated by precisely the same instincts and impulses which centre about the relations of the different members of the family to each other and to us. ^ If, then, a medium succeeds in tapping some very early impressions and in giving^ them out to the ^ consciousness of other peopl^'^ though he may not r be conscious of them himself, he is quite likely to reproduce memories of what might have happened equally well to his sitters in their infancy or early childhood or to any one else whatever, brought up "in any degree similar environment. These inci- . dents would quite as well fit the recently dead as I the living, and fit those who died a thousand years ago as well as those who died yesterday. The the- ory of probability is twisted by the spiritualists who I say there is not one chance in a million that the medium could guess correctly. About some things there is the same chance that he could guess wrongly. Given enough indefiniteness in statement and matters from a deep enough level of uncon- scious memory he can't guess wrongly if he tries. The main principles of the occurrence of mental states and activities are the mechanisms of the un- ' conscious, all of which might be included in the one term integrations. The mind tends, just as nature 160 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT everywhere tends, to make units or individual or- ganisms. This integration in psychological mate- rial is carried out through the association or, as it has sometimes been called, colligation of activities. § 5. Earliest Sensations The earliest sensation making an impression on the recording apparatus of the developing nerve substance is in some manner associated or colli- gated with a subsequent impression. Nature seems to have arranged it that when another, a third, im- pression is made it is able, if sufficiently similar to the first, say sound impression, to make a re- action in another part of the organism and either to make no reaction in this part or to make a dif- ferent reaction if the second sound impression is different in quality. If the unborn child could think we should imagine him thinking to himself " There's a sound ! I heard a sound once before. Nice to hear sound again.'' Or " That's a squeeze ! Hate to be all squeezed up." And later: "That squeeze was w^orse than the other." But we sup- pose it cannot think, though we know that the physiological material for all those judgments is there long before birth. The identification of one mental state or activity of his own with another of his own is followed in due time, after birth and physically independent existence, by an identification of himself with ob- jects in the external world. He identifies himself with them intellectually and emotionally. Intel- THE MECHANISMS 161 lectually his identification is objective or centri-^ fugal in character and may be illustrated by num- bers of childish ideas. He thinks the clouds are made of smoke. For him smoke is only his im- pression of smoke, and clouds are seen to be similar visually in some respects. § 6. Introjection It appears then that the internal sensations are the medium by which he centripetally identifies or introjects, and the external sensations are the means of his making centrifugal or objective identi- fications or projecting. It might be said that he attributes his feelings to things and therefore' should be said to project them, but that is not an accurate way to word the matter. In introjection which is an emotional activity he adds to the num- ber of things which cause him emotional reactions. Fear which he should properly feel only about being born again, he feels about other things. He col- lects into his experience one thing after another to fear about. That is, he associates the internal sen- sation fear with an ever increasing number of ex- ternals. Therefore he introjects each and every one of them into that section of his emotional life that comprises fear. It is an actual entrance of things into his life. This is not the only emotional reaction, however, with which he associates or col- ligates external things and happenings. Many give him pleasure and joy. His character is profoundly affected by the nature and number of the externals 162 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT that give him pleasurable emotions. I have taken fear only as an illustration where I might have taken several other internal sensations. But they would all illustrate introjeetion or the taking of real things into his emotional life. The identification, sometimes called objective identification/ is that by which later in life a per- son unconsciously behaves toward another person in the same way that he has behaved toward his father or mother in his childhood or to their surro- gates, and has been called transference. The in- ternal sensations associated with the earlier person are again associated with the later met individual, doctor, lawyer, minister or other person in author- ity, and lead to similar actions directed toward him. Transference is thus a reassociation of emo- tions and stands half way between the original col- ligation of emotions on the one hand, and acts and sensations on the other, and the other kind of asso- ciation of emotions with externals that are not essentially and logically connected with them — the introjeetion mentioned above. For taking a later acquaintance as a father surrogate there is frequently only the slightest external resemblance. It is much as if the psyche, like a child looking for a horse to ride on and finding a stick and strad- dling it and thinking it will do, was looking out for a father surrogate and would take any one who had the remotest resemblance to the original. It is easy to see that this choice will be very unlikely to lE. g., see Frink: Morhid Fears and Compulsions, p. 167, note. THE MECHANISMS 163 be a fortunate one, as the person making it will ex- perience one disillusionment after another as the points of difference are gradually manifested to his consciousness. Such too is the history of many cases of love at first sight where the man finds in the woman some quality that arouses all the uncon- scious passion he has felt for his own mother, or where the woman falls in love not with the man as a whole but with some characteristic that resembles her father. A child is walking along a street and passes a house from which comes out a dog that follows the child, barking. The child is much frightened and from that time on dreads that particular house. The child has what might be called an exaggerated interest in the house. Particularly is this the case if the child, though informed that the dog has died or has been taken away, still feels a dread of the house, a not unknown situation. The house or its vicinity has become introjected into the child's mind. It is a matter of common observation that some children are more likely to be affected that way than others. Again, a relative of such a person dies and the death chamber, or even the house in which the death took place may, because of this event, become an unpleasant place, and remain so for a loilg time. Such people, who retain thus the association of un- pleasant emotions with definite localities are at- tributing to the locality a quality that is like them- selves, they are identifying a part of themselves 164 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT (their unpleasant emotions) witli some thing, so to speak, in itself absolutely colourless. They are introjecting the house into their own psyche. This is quite the history of haunted houses, except that the haunted house causes the introjection to take place in more people than one. A house where even a violent and tragic death took place would not cause the same identification with every one. The undertaker, for example, would not naturally feel much more about it than about any other house to which he had been called. But some of the friends or relatives will be particularly affected by the death chamber itself and even the house. They may for a long time avoid the street in which the house is situated. Those on whose actions the tragic death has most effect are the ones whose in- trojection is the greatest. We can easily see here that the psychical re- searcher has more than the average man intro-. jected certain things. The introjection of the house, where the dog was, into the child's mind above is a perfectly ordinary one. The slightly added interest of the house where one's relative has died is also an ordinary one if it lasts only an ordinary time. But the permanent obsessive inter- est in the questions of spiritism is an introjection of an almost abnormal degree. Introjection is therefore an emotional interest in some external thing, an interest that in all persons is natural and normal for a brief period but in some persons reaches an unusual degree of intensity. The fea- THE MECHANISMS 165 turing of the photographic reproductions, in news- papers, of scenes of murders and accidents is an appeal to the same introjection on the part of the readers, and the crowds that visit the scene of an accident, or murder, are giving evidence of a tem- porary introjection. Any one visiting scenes of that kind is identifying himself centripetally with some feature of the scene. The opposite minded man feels : " What earthly interest have I in seeing the blood stained wreckage? " Though if he ac- tually says it he may be protesting too much, in order to disguise an unconscious wish. Introjection is therefore an absolutely universal \/ characteristic of all of us. It is only the unusual interest and degree of interest that marks the ab- normal tendency to introject. This tendency the psychical researcher shows in an extreme degree. § 7. Projection Projection is normal in every one, but in those persons in which it reaches an abnormal degree it is considered one of the symptoms of paranoia. We project an idea upon some person or thing when we attribute to that person or thing ideas or feelings that really originate in our own minds; and, in attributing to a person an idea, we think that he has that idea. For example, a bad con- science is a quite universal instance of normal pro- jection. If we have done anything bad, it is bad only because other people think it is bad or would think it bad if they knew we had done it. If we 166 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT were absolutely sure that no one else would con- sider a given action immoral it would not be im- moral but would be un-moral or non-moral. So it , is evident that our judgment of the morality of our I own actions is practically in every instance the ' criticism which Ave know or imagine other people ^ would make of that action. Very young children are without this moral sense, and their elders are talking to them all the time about this and that being naughty ; so that they naturally get the idea that criticism of their actions is the most common attitude of other people. After a while they ac- quire a habit of automatically considering whether or not a proposed action is bad. Now the criti- cism has, to be sure, originally come from with- out, from parent or teacher, but in a particular instance, later, the proposed actit)n may not be of sufficient interest to arouse any criticism favour- able or unfavourable on the part of any one in the child's environment. Yet the idea that mother or father might not like it occurs to the child in con- nection with the action. Actually the child does not know that it will displease his father or mother. The idea, however, that it will be criticized occur- ring to the child's mind, is in this instance at any rate an idea that did not originate from without. If this idea is accompanied by a vivid enough real- ity feeling, it will be projected by the child upon the parent, the child will think the parent averse to his action, will credit the parent with an atti- tude not really taken by the parent. THE MECHANISMS 167 This notion on the child's part that the parent thinks unfavourably of his proposed action is the projection of the child's state of mind upon the parent, that is the projection upon that part of the parent's character actually experienced by the child of an idea originating in the child's mind and not actually experienced by the child in his contact with the parent. The parent's character is then partly actual, partly imaginary. It might be said that in this sense the projection is the imaginary part of the parent's character as perceived by the child, but it is to be noted that this part is only imaginatively perceived and not actually experi- enced. It is quite a well-known fact that this projection in some children at any rate includes the child's notion that after he has been guilty of doing some- thing he ought not to have done, the fact of his hav- ing done it is patent to other people. Because he knows himself that he has done wrong he gets the idea that other persons also know it and that they can read it in his face or in his subsequent actions. He thus projects on other people the knowledge that he has of his own acts, i. e., he supposes that other people know what he has done, though how they may know does not occur to him, any more than they may not know it. Every word, thought or action of the people of his environment may be interpreted by him in such a way as to make him believe that they know, so that he sometimes is quite puzzled as to why they do not take appro- a> 168 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT priate action. This projection mechanism is the basis of the old proverb Murder will out. This contribution of projected states of mind to the experiences of actual reality throws a very strong subjective colour over all experiences mak- ing it indeed a difficult if not impossible thing for any of us to sense things and relations of things as they really are. And when we reflect that any idea, feeling or wish is quite as likely as any other to be projected upon the personalities about us, it is no wonder that we are unable to see ourselves as others see us. For this there are two reasons, one that in seeing ourselves we are more under the influence of our own unconscious wishes and that we are seen by others through their own pro- jections. ^^ § 8. Animism The earliest type of thought among peoples be- fore the era of simplest civilization was a projec- tion of their own ideas and feelings impartially upon other persons and inanimate things whether motionless, like rocks, or moving things, like clouds or rivers, the moon, sun and stars. With this pro- jection was connected the fact that the most patent characteristic of consciousness is its intermittence, broken as it is by sleep, by drugs, by a blow on the head and (a less patent fact) minutely broken by the very passage from one conscious impression to another of a different sense quality. It can hardly be denied that the most untutored mind would sometime experience the length of THE MECHANISMS 169 time of darkness between sunset and sunrise, and on another occasion perhaps would experience the fact that he had slept most of this time. In all this time spent in sleep between sunset and sun- rise where was he? The memory of a dream would suggest to him that he might have been miles away from where he knew his body was sleeping. He was then different from his body, sometimes in it, and sometimes out of it. He dreams he is an eagle flying high in the air. Therefore he can leave his body, if it is asleep, and enter the body of an eagle. But there is something that keeps on en- tering and leaving his body rhythmically all day — his breath. On cold mornings he can see it leave his nostrils. And the word for breath in most languages is the word for spirit. Therefore his spirit or the breath or air form of his body can leave his flesh-and-blood body and "naked on the air of heaven ride.'' But other people and animals have breath. He can see and feel it too. They too have spirits. The waterfall has a spirit. He can see it passing from the cataract in a fine mist. The trees have spirits too, which gather in filmy clouds on the mountain sides. Sometimes they take the form of a tree or an animal. If the spirit does not return, the body never moves again and presently disintegrates. What could be more patent to the senses. The untu- tored mind projects upon the dead the idea emanat- ing from his own mind, namely that his spirit has 170 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT departed. When the untutored mind dreams, he is able to do things he could not have done in his body; therefore the spirits of the dead can pass from place to place, can enter the bodies of other men and animals, can enter trees, waterfalls, moun- tains or the heavenly bodies. Yet this notion that the spirit leaves the body is but a projection in the sense we have just used it above. It is the supposition that other people have the same ability to " cast the dust aside '' and do what he, the untutored mind, thinks he can do him- self, and furthermore that other animate and in- animate beings have the same powers. . As a bit of scientific reasoning, it is absolutely on a par with the reasoning of a child that his parents know that he has done wrong or that they will scold or pun- ish him for this particular wrong. There is absolutely nothing abnormal or un- usual about this purely human habit of thought called projection. It is a thought mechanism op- erative in all thinking individuals, only it is not productive of scientific judgments. § 9. Attitude Toward Departed Now if we confine our discussion to the feelings of the survivors concerning the dead, we shall find from a study of funeral rites and mourning cus- toms among primitive peoples that, in all of these rites and customs factors are present which show both love and hate, friendliness and hostility, both actual and projected. The friendliness and love THE MECHANISMS 171 are shown in the ancestor worship, and the hate and hostility in the belief in evil spirits and de- mons; and we shall see that all of these are pro- •' jections on the part of the suryivors.^ It may well be the ease that the departed was a character of mingled good and evil, as indeed we all are, but the thoughts that occur about him tend of their own accord to integrate themselves into systems and for a short time after his death the departed savage is regarded as a hostile spirit, who has to be appeased in c. ery possible way so that he may not do harm to the survivors. It may happen that just this attitude of primitive man ' ) toward the dead may still live in the present day r in the shape of attention given by the psychical re- searchers to spiritual phenomena. It is in one sense both an ancestor worship and an exorcism es- sentially, in effect, though done in the guise of ex- perimental science. In any case it is a projection as evident to the truly scientific mind as are the most obvious projections of the child or the savage. § 10. Science and the Reality Feeling It is characteristic of science, however, on the y'' other hand to disregard entirely the reality feeling as a criterion of reality and to substitute for it observed relations of things. And these relations of things do not in any way impress this internal sense which I have described as the feeling of real- ity. The facts of science are things that are un- 1 Cp. Chap. VIII, sec. 7. 172 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT able to awaken this sensation of reality which is the internal or organic sense impressed by the co- operative working of all the other senses. Some of the facts of astronomy for example are such as to leave the subjective feeling of reality quite un- touched, yet no one has any doubt of their actuality nor can any one be said merely to believe them who has taken the trouble to acquaint himself with them. He can truly be said to know that they are real without their even having impressed his in- ternal reality feeling in the least. Similarly, he may be truthfully said to know the facts of animal cell structure after study of stained specimens by means of the microscope. He knows there are objects called chromosomes or " coloured bodies " in the cell because certain dyes adhere to them and render them visible to his eye. He does not project upon the stars on the one hand, nor upon the cell plasm on the other hand any of his own subjective notions. His entire pro- cedure has been wholly to exclude anything like such projection. This projection, however, was the rule in ancient star gazing. We speak today of a constellation as Orion because the ancient Greeks projected their own notions upon the stars, and scientific language still contains the verbal relics of earlier projections as in the word oxygen which describes the ideas about that gas entertained by the early chemists, namely that it created acids. It may be replied that in a sense any scientific theory is a projection in that it is a human view of THE MECHANISMS 173 a concrete reality. But it may be answered that the supposition is made only to see if it will work, and is immediately replaced by another supposi- tion if it does not work. In contrast to which the attitude of the spiritists is always to find proofs of the objective reality of their own projections, though they strenuously deny this attitude when- ever it is intimated. The whole history of the Spir- itistic movement is that of a recrudescence of the animism of primitive man, it is the effort to be sci- entific in doing an absolutely unscientific thing. It is the continued struggle to get scientific proof for a belief, as contrasted with the attempt of the true scientist to ascertain what really are the relations of things quite apart from the conscious or uncon- scious wish for something that may or may not exist. It is again the constant attempt to prove one thing, namely the independent existence of " spirit " apart from matter, which as we have seen above, is the belief (that is, the unconscious wdsh) of the untutored mind. The motives for this wish have been discussed elsewhere. § 11. Science and Projection The contrast between projection and scientific attitude is as that between the east and the west. We might almost use the word injection to describe the aim of science which is to get the world as it is into the intellect of man, while projection is get- ting the feeling of man into the world of reality. Now while the aim of all creative human work 174 MAN^S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT is to change external reality and to impress as much of nature as possible with a human stamp, it nat- m*ally occurs to the scientist with the widest view of the phenomena of the universe that not only is the humanizing of the universe a task quite incom- mensurate with human abilities, but also it might not in the end be altogether desirable if it were possible. It is unquestionable that spiritism is an an- thropomorphic tendency, while science might be called cosmomorphic. All the petty details of the nature of the clothes spirits wear, of their being sexed or sexless, of their diversions, even of the cigars they smoke and the food and drink they en- joy, are, on the face of them, projections as crass as the houris of the Mohammedan paradise, and the bows and arrows of the American Indian happy hunting ground ; and they have far less poetical ap- peal than the Hellenic phantasies of ambrosia and nectar and of the golden apples of the Gardens of the Hesperides. Truly in matter of actual detail the modern mythology is but a rubbish heap com- pared with the ancient, and the one is quite as much a scientific demonstration as the other. The ancients frankly indulged in their fondest dreams and projected them into their myths. Moderns have been coerced in a sense by scientific thought into giving a materialistic form to their beliefs, a form which lacks all the spontaneity of the ancient unrepressed dream of the future life. The only sensible procedure for belief is to acknowledge it- THE MECHANISMS 175 self as belief. It works much better so, and pro- duces better results. It is really more pragmatic in being itself and not trying to be something else. But in attempting a scientific proof for a sub- jective belief- one puts the cart before the horse. Bather should we attempt to clothe our scientific truths with the unconscious wish. This suggests the ever-present conflict between inner and outer life, a conflict which is sometimes compromised by the tacit agreement on our part to take the world as we find it and not to look in it for something that is only in ourselves. The individual's attitude is determined by his disposition, the tender-minded idealist deceiving himself as much as he dares to, the tough-minded realist and materialist get- ting as much pleasure out of an unimaginative life as he can. Those concerned to an extreme degree in the question of either an after life or a supernormal sensitivity in this life are laying excessive stress on the value of the subjective element. Others, like Darwin, who at times re- gretted his exclusively rigid and scientific habit of thought, are stressing the other values. There is no doubt as to where to place the psychical researcher in this classification of temperaments. Were it not for the increasing insistence of sci- entific habits of mind there would be no scientific plank in the psychical research platform, in spite of the fact that the researchers protest that they do not have as their aim the proof of spiritism. Were it not for the fact that the formulations of science 176 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT are acquiring more and more of the tone of author- ity, and that men now realize that what is known can be knqwn only through scientific methods, there would be no motive for psychical research, for every story of an apparition or of a voice from the air or of an unaccountable movement of any object would find ready belief. § 12. Reality Thinking and Life But nowadays imagination and belief are not enough to make a man successful in adapting him- self to his environment. He needs the knowledge based on statistical investigation of the relations of things in order successfully to manage his in- surance companies, his manufactures, his traffic, his chain stores. This shows that human nature has changed to the extent of requiring knowledge of re- lations of things in the place of belief as to their pleasure-producing or pain-jiroducing qualities. This is the contrast elsewhere mentioned between the reality and the pleasure-pain modes of think- ing. So that any question as to the relative value of the two modes is answered by the facts of society as it exists today. The tendency is toward mate- rialism, toward tough-minded knowledge, and away from tender-minded belief. The emotions, which are characteristic of the ten- der-minded element of humanity, are nevertheless of positive value, and while they are the last to be valued it will soon be found even by the most tough- minded materialist, that they have this concrete THE MECHANISMS 177 and merchantable value, and that a business per- fectly developed in every other way will not success- fully compete with another which has in addition enlisted the emotions. And it will not be able to enlist them without a very elaborate investigation into them such as has never before been undertaken. And without the knowledge of the nature and func- tions of both conscious and unconscious emotions such an investigation will be fruitless. For hith- erto the fact has been ignored not only that the emotions of surprise, awe, reverence and profound somatic satisfaction are aroused in many people by hearing the stories of the triumph of spirit over matter, but also that the unconscious emotions of joy and sorrow, disappointment, love, hate, and rage actuate or at any rate give additional force to the efforts of all men in all lines of activity whether commercial, professional or artistic. For it should not be forgotten ( 1 ) that we do all things to get a present or postponed conscious or unconscious satisfaction which is the relaxation of tensions in our multitudes of muscular systems throughout the body, (2) that a long continued ten- sion frequently needs a violent action in order to neutralize it, and (3) that these tensions and relax- ations are going on in our bodies constantly and below the level of consciousness. Only recently has any positive contribution been made to knowledge about the effects of these neutralizations in daily life, their effects upon health, and their causation of functional diseases. It is not unlikely that in 178 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT the near future the intense anxiety about death and the life after death will be commonly recognized as a result of an incipient functional heart disorder, and will show that normally men have no real pragmatic motives for giving a thought to prob- lems of hypersensitivity and post mortem conscious existence, and that the intense curiosity about the solution of such problems is a mark of subnormal mentality or of a slight mental disorder which later may become more serious. § 13. The Reality Feeling vs. Reality Thinking We must carefully distinguish between the real- ity feeling described in Chapter II and reality thinking or thinking directed according to the real- ity principle. The first is a sensation, an impres- sion made through sense organs situated in the body. The second is a process of thought deter- mined by observed relations between things in the external world. To the illogical and unwarranted transfer of the reality feeling from external sen- sations to internally aroused visual, auditory and other types of images is due the huge mass of volu- minously attested phenomena that are held to prove the existence of spirit. To the process of reality thinking we are indebted for the present state of scientific knowledge, which, though it has not an- swered all the questions we can ask, has neverthe- less performed a solidly constructive work in the world. THE MECHANISMS 179 The images of sight, sound, etc., which occur to us are all determined bj the opposite of reality thinking namely the pleasure-pain principle. The laws of nature are discovered through the reality principle. The idea of divinity is traceable from the crudest theriomorphic and anthropomorphic forms to the refined forms existing in the minds of the most cultivated people of today. This change in ideas demonstrates that they are but ideas, being the projections into externality, of the unconscious wish, which is fundamentally the same and varies in superficial details according to the conscious life of the people in whom ideas of divinity arise. To return to the effect of the feeling of reality upon belief, and the absence of this subjective feel- ing from any scientific work, we must emphasize again the importance of this distinction. The cri- terion which is used in scientific observations where instruments of precision are used is the feeling of sameness, or the feeling of similarity. To illus- trate this I would mention the observer seated at the telescope watching a star cross the field of vision. The task set is, as the star passes five small lines in the field, to record the time by push- ing a button that causes a mark to be made on a revolving drum which keeps the time. The star seems to stretch out arms of light toward the line, grasp it, swing round it, let go and pass on to the next. Each time the star swings round a line the observer has the feeling of sameness and as he has 180 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT it he pushes the button. His action is brought to a focus by the internal, organic sensation of same- ness. Again, if we are matching two colours, we glance from one surface to the other in order to detect any difference, which is recorded in us, up to the limit of our ability visually to discriminate, by the ab- sence of the feeling of sameness. Now as the fineness of discrimination, depending possibly on purely visual impressions in either of the two illustrations just mentioned, and, in the first illustration, the rapidity of action in pressing the button varies with different individuals there is recognized a difference of reaction; and this differ- ence, where human senses are involved has to be allowed for in all exact measurements and is known as the personal equation. Also the fact that this human fallibility is the source of error leads scientists to replace human senses by other sensitive media wherever possible, as in the photographs of stars, and, in the ques- tion of colours, by refined methods of mixing and distributing pigments. And following this the psychical researchers have attempted the same methods but with unavailable results. The " spirit photographs " thus far produced have been prac- tically incomprehensible or without important sig- nificance, as their interpretation is of far more mo- ment than the photographs themselves, even if we accepted them as authentic ; and they appear to have no connection with anything mental. THE MECHANISMS 181 § 14. Unconscious Perceptions Unconscious perceptions are quite a familiar ex- perience. As we walk in a crowded street we see the face of a person we know and later recall that we have seen it. It might be said that we see it, and in another sense we do not. The sight cannot be called fully conscious nor yet can it be called absolutely unconscious simply for the reason that it later appears in consciousness in the setting in which it actually occurred, i. e., as a face among a crowd of other faces. There may be the memory merely of a face we knew without the memory of the person's name. But the fact is that later, for example, when at home after dinner we may be sitting in revery, we have this person's face appear before our mental eye, either with or without the consciousness of his name but with the conscious- ness of its having first been a visual impression among others of the crowded street.^ This is an unconscious perception. At any rate (if the face was perceived without the name) the perception is unconscious in so far as the name itself is con- cerned. Here is a perception, then, at least part of which is unconscious. It may be said that we could not perceive his name unless he had been tagged with it in some way visible to our physical eye. To this we might reply that the name of any one is mentally tagged on him and that the tag 1 It will elsewhere be shown that only the concomitant feeling of reality existing with the original actual sensation differen- tiates the so-called real experience from the mental image. 182 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT should be quite as visible to us mentally as his face was visually. In this sense we unconsciously per- ceive his name too, for the association once made mentally between the man and his name is retained unconsciously, as is the whole series of events and experiences which are in any way associated with his personality. The semi-conscious sight of his face was only one link in a chain, a link which alone appeared above the surface of consciousness leaving all the other links of the chain below. A very definite reason is given by psychoanalysis why the other links do not emerge, a reason to which I shall have to refer elsewhere in this volume. But here I wish to contrast on the one hand the semiconscious perception of a face in a crowd ac- companied, not at the actual time but later, by the feeling of familiarity which indicates the presence, in the mind, of a number of associations connected with that particular face, — the contrast with, on the other hand, the number of unconscious percep- tions of facts about the owner of the face, percep- tions that are made by the unconscious mind, not merely impressions made on it, and perceptions which later may come into consciousness, at volun- tary summons or of their own accord, and which could by no means be called in any sense conscious at the time. § 15. Reading Mechanisms As an example of the perception of things uncon- sciously I would offer the following type of experi- THE MECHANISMS 183 ence which I have had myself and which other peo- ple have communicated to me. In reading a printed page the eye is fixed upon one word at a time. While it is fixed on that word, the words both to the right and left of it are read so that we may say the eye moves so many times from left to right on each line and at the end of each line jumps back from right to left and fixates one of the let- ters, but not the first, of the first word on the line. The line is read in groups of words, the eye taking in one group and then passing to the fixation point of the next, jumping the distance one way, say, in four jumps and then back to the first word of the line in one jump from the fixation point of the last group of the line just read. If the line should con- sist of four long words of about equal length, the jumps would be from the middle of each word to the middle of the next, etc. During the jump it- self the visual consciousness is intermitted. We see nothing (consciously, at any rate), while the eye is actually in motion, the reading of this sup- posed four word line being therefore a matter of four conscious periods interrupted by three inter- vening periods of unconsciousness. Now while the eye is consciously reading any one of the four groups each one of them approximately one quarter of the line long, it is able to take in visually and consciously a certain number of words in the line above, the line below and in the lines above and below them respectively. But while it is possible consciously to fixate the eye on one let- 184 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT ter and read the whole word which contains the letter that is fixated, and also a word above it and a word below it, it is not actually done that way as a general rule by people who read much. Con- scious perception is confined to the line that is being actually read at the time, and while the scope of conscious vision may be an inch from left to right, it is not generally more than one-eighth of an inch from top to bottom in actual reading. Ex- perimentally I can fix my eye on the word of in the following passage and, without moving my eye, con- sciously see " on war. Had '' on the preceding line " League of Nations '' on the fixated line and " could not " on the line below. terials esseaitial to war. To the end of the war she imported iron ore from Sweden. Until almost the last year of the war she drained Holland, Switzer- land, and Scandinavia of concentrated foodstuffs. Previous to their own en- try into hostilities, Rumania, Bulgaria, and Italy sent to Grermany enormous qualities of vital supplies which she did not produce in suflScient quantity to carry on war. Bad the Covenant of the League of Nations been in force Germany could not have received those supplies. Germany would have real- It is easy to see that this remaining unconscious of the words in the preceding and the following line is necessary to preserve the integrity of the proper sequence of thought in reading. For consider what would be the result of the confusion of three lines THE MECHANISMS 185 in the case of the reader who is auditory minded. Such readers, when reading silently hear the words just as if spoken in the tone-quality of their own voices, or, in the case of words written by persons whose voices they know, in the tone-quality of those jjersons' voices. There is absolutely no difference between the two qualities of sensation except in- tensity, the mentally heard word being much fainter and unaccompanied by the reality feeling. Now we must suppose that the actual sight of the word groups in succession causes the release of processes constituting the auditory imagery in the consciousness of the reader, and if this release worked quite impartially as far as the actual visual impressions go, the auditory imagery of three groups of words would be released into conscious- ness, one group on the line visually fixated, another on the one above it and the third on the line beloAV it. This simultaneous release of auditory mental imagery of three different and conflicting groups of sounds would be exceedingly confusing. We have therefore trained ourselves to become oblivious to those of the uppermost and lowest of the three lines. We have in a sense narrowed our conscious- ness by learning to read. Analogous statements could be made about those readers who are in the habit of supplementing their visual reading with imagery of the voice motor sensations. Indeed we find that slightly educated persons who tend to read aloud to themselves, or who move their lips in reading without making sounds, are sometimes 186 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT in the habit of holding a finger under the word group being read as if the better to focus their vision and possibly to exclude impressions from word groups below. To return to the unconscious perception of visual impressions I would call attention to the phenomenon I mentioned at the beginning of this section, and for which the preceding paragraphs have been merely introductory. At one time I hap- pened to observe a number of instances where words or letters from a line or two or three lines below where I was consciously reading would unite in combinations that made words and that these words would spring into consciousness, interrupt- ing the sense of the passage.^ Thus in a passage I was reading, the word " insult " suddenly appeared in my auditory imagery, interrupting the sense of the passage. Being then curious as to the origin of that idea which was quite foreign to the sense of the passage I quickly looked below to see if the writer could possibly be going to talk about insults. I could not find the word. It w^as not on the page; but I did find " in " in the next line and " suit " as a part of the word " consultation '' in the line below it. The word insult therefore was, and at the same time was not, on the page. I noticed this unconscious combination of letters and parts of words into whole words unconnected or only remotely connected with the passage being read on many occasions after that until I had con- 1 See also Wilfrid Lay : Mcm's Unconscious Conflict, page 206. THE MECHANISMS 187 vinced myself of the fact that the coalescence had taken place in the unconscious and through the unconscious mental activity and had occurred with such clearness and force that it had of its own power sprung into consciousness and caused an interruption of the train of thought con- ditioned by the reading. Then I ceased to notice these unconscious sensible combinations. I did not attempt to find out why the word insult should have had such easy access to my conscious thought. Possibly I may have been touchy at the time and sensitive about what some one had said to me. Another illustration of the combination of im- pressions below the threshold of consciousness is one that is typical of a group of such experiences that might be termed unconscious substitution. § 16. The Unconscious Combination of Ideas I sat reading one summer evening in an old cot- tage by the ocean. I had my fountain pen lying on the table beside my book to make an occasional note. The table cover was of white linen. Much absorbed in what I was reading, I yet became con- scious of a peculiar odour. My first thought was that the dampness of the atmosphere at the time had brought out some old musty smell from the house. Next I saw that in moving my book I had rumpled the table cloth, and a fold of it had risen up and touched the point of my pen from which had been drawn, by the capillary action of the linen, a spot of ink the size of a dime. Something impelled 18§ MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT rae to put my nose down to the spot and snifiP it. That was the odour. It was ink I had been smell- ing. I was vexed with myself for having, through my carelessness in laying the pen down, stained the white linen table cloth, and was puzzled that I had not seen it touch the pen, or seen the spot before it grew so large, but the fact remains that, while the spot was quite large enough to be seen while I was reading, I had not seen it until I smelled it. It was quite evident to me that the spot had been un- consciously seen by me all the time, but that the realization of its presence came through the sense of smell. It is much as if the total emotional re- action had been like another person trying to tell me that I was staining the cloth by my careless act, and, failing to impress my vision, had tried another avenue of sense. The idea of slight damage had been present in my unconscious mind for some time, through both the senses of sight and smell, had been struggling to enter consciousness in order to avert further damage, and could not impress me visually ; but had succeeded through the sense of smell in diverting my attention from my reading and arous- ing me to the action which my present environment required — the putting of the pen in a place where it would not spill any more ink. Unconsciously, therefore, the sense of smell was substituted for that of sight and the actions were linked with the former which would ordinarily have been associated with the latter. The whole incident was entirely apart from any conscious volition of mine. It THE MECHANISMS 189 seems quite clearly to show a state of mind that can- not be called anything else than unconscious voli- tion. But it surely demonstrates unconscious per- ception and reasoning. The perception consisted of the association of one sense quality with another, which was shown by my turning my gaze from book to table cloth, and by the connecting of the odour of the ink with the idea of something peculiar and un- desirable. While I was thinking that the odour was that of the aged timber, plaster and wall paper of the room I was in, I was still reading. The im- pression of a peculiar odour came several times be- fore I looked and saw. It reminds me of the dumb show of excitement of a dog that wants human aid in some emergency. But as will be evident there was a highly complicated process going on in my mind, the only conscious elements of which were the reading, the odour, and finally the conscious sight of the ink spot some time after it had become unconsciously visible. § IT. Miracles The greatest miracles are the commonest occur- V rences of every day life such as these, and it requires only interest and close attention to see in them the extremely complicated interplay of one sense qual- ity with the others and their connection with ac- tions carried out into the external world. One is impressed with the fact that there is nothing in any of the " phenomena " of spiritualism any more wonderful than almost anything that takes place 190 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT around us or in us every day. The performance of the antennae or the coherer in the wireless is no less remarkable than the hypersensitivity of the medium in receiving spirit messages. In the re- stricted sense of the word believe, I believe in both impartially ; but there is a sort of universality and ready controllability in the wireless apparatus, a systematization such that any boy can set it up, if he follows definite directions, and can receive mes- sages coming from hundreds of miles. And the ap- parent contradiction of the law of gravitation which we see in tacks, iron filings, etc., rising ver- tically from the earth to a magnet suspended above them is no less wonderful than the levitation and other materialization phenomena. The difference is only the rarity of the latter, should the latter be scientifically proved real. There is enough mystery on earth and in life and the question naturally occurs as to what might be the cause of the attention of some men and women being turned from the here-and-now" to the here- after. It is not alone that more excitement is se- cured, for there is sufficiently gripping interest in the commonest natural phenomena about us. The question is not : " Why look for mystery? " for the satisfaction of curiosity is perennially demanded; but : " Why choose this particular field for exhibit- ing curiosity? " The answer will, I think, be made plain 4n what follows. We get the impression that psychical research is going after the rare and contradictory per se; THE MECHANISMS 191 and that the well known facts of physics are not considered of sufficient importance to have deduced from them the existence of an intelligence direct- ing and planning the universe, as illustrated, for example, in the expansion of water in cooling from 4° to 0° centigrade. But what the psychical re- searchers are interested in is things much rarer which are seized upon first as exceptions to the uni- versal laws of nature. W. McDougall, President of the English Society for Psychical Research says : ^ " It is the organized attempt to apply the methods of science to these hoary problems, the problem of supernormal powers of perception and communication, the problem of modes of action on and in the physical world not hitherto recognized, the supreme problem of the life after death." § 18. Desire for the Eootraordinary Thus it is evident that the exception to the nor- mal or average has for a certain class of people a disproportionate interest in itself. This is one of the many methods of acquiring or at any rate seem- ing to acquire an amplification of the ego. The general run of people are content with the average dimensions so to speak of their individualities. Consciously they desire to increase them neither in space nor time; but for a certain type of people the unconscious craving for mere extension of ego is shown in their conscious interests in the so-called 1 l^ew York Evening Post, Oct. 30, 1920. 192 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT marvels of spiritism. They feel that their con- sciousness is a feature of their existence which, they desire beyond all things to feel assured, will remain, after all the physical matter composing their bodies has been dissipated ; and they feel that their consciousness is the more satisfactory if it can, in clairvoyance, crystal gazing, dowsing, etc., extend beyond the limits of the ordinary conscious- nesses which they see about them. In this we see that the extension of the ego is but a comparative matter; and, if we were all clair- voyant and telepathic, these people would have to be interested not in the common phenomenon of clairvoyance but in some rarer manifestation. One cannot but think that if the energies devoted to these present rarities had been bestowed upon the research into the nature and laws of manifesta- tion of the human emotions and the effects of these upon health and conduct and morals, we should be living in a far different world. For as yet little is scientifically known, compared to what would be necessary for a really rational living of life, about these most common sensations, common to every human being and common to almost every moment of his or her life, conscious and uncon- scious. On the other hand physics and chemistry have taken the most obvious and the most common things and have devoted attention to the discovery of the universal laws according to which they act. One cannot help being impressed by the very di- THE MECHANISMS 193 vergent aims of the pure and applied sciences and of psychical research. The psychical researchers' appreciation of this divergence is shown in the cry of materialism which they raise against science, a criticism expressed in the term of spiritism, which "" implies that matter, as they understand it, does not come up to their expectations as they conceive them, of what matter ought to be capable of, or of what qualities matter ought, as they think, to have. Their implied criticism of matter contains always the unconscious wish that at least some matter -^J might be peculiar and not subject to the laws gov- erning the rest of it. And as will be elsewhere shown a wish is always for something non-existent or supposed to be non-existent. For example the w^onderful, which is at our feet and in the air we \j breathe, is evidently passed ov^r by a certain type of mind and something radically different is sought as an object of \^onder. § 19. Desire for Excitement It is more than likely that besides the uncon- scious desire for the amplification of the ego mani- fested in all spiritual phenomena, there is also an additional factor in the unconscious wish for ex- citement. The ideational content of spiritistic phenomena is nothing if not exciting, being in a sense cataclysmic in its apparent denial, now of one, now of another, of nature's laws. That the ordinarily invisible should become visible, the un- heard heard, and that the material body should A 194 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT have a spiritual body accompanying it and all the other phenomena of spiritism are so strikingly at variance with average experience, as to belong really to that class of ideas known as newspaper stuff — the strange, odd, freakish, outre, excessive, sensational. It is a theory of psychoanalysis that all excite- ment is fundamentally sexual in the sense that men and women who lack the normal tensions and re- f) laxations in that sphere, will with irresistible im- pulse make for themselves tensions and relaxations in other spheres. The close coincidence between the abnormal in personality and the medium him- self would almost alone suggest this. The average human couple living a regular and normal love-life show very little tendency as a general thing to in- terest themselves in the strange or the sensational. Secure in their mutual love, they have no great con- cern about the distant or the future, the present in time or place filling them with the unutterable satisfaction of rhythmically occurring emotional tensions and relaxations, wherein their sex life acts as a sort of gyroscope, a stabilizer that prevents them from, so to speak, shooting out of their spheres. But when one of the couple dies or is untrue to the other or if for any reason the true mutuality of their love-life is diminished it is quite common for one, or both, if both survive, to develop a strong propensity for other varieties of excitement, which are found, to be sure, in many spheres of human ac- THE Mi:OH/NISMS 195 tivity, but for a certain type of mind nowhere so certainly as in the various forms of spiritism. The unconscious craving too, if it remains strong after the average days of human love-life, will naturally seek a vicarious outlet. And We see the phe- nomenon of many a man and woman ridiculing the idea of spiritism in their earlier life and in later life becoming convinced of the truth of spirit rap- pings and other unusual things. § 20. Transference In this chapter I have tried both to describe the modes or processes of unconscious mental activity that most markedly concern the problem of spirit- ism, and to show that the universal mechanism of projection has for its inevitable work the attribut- ing of qualities, like those possessed by the uncon- scious thinker, not only to objects around him but also to an object " spirit " which has no existence that can be proved by science. I have traced this projection mechanism from its most elementary forms in the primitive belief in animism. I have mentioned the fact that introjection, unconscious perception and unconscious combination of ideas produce results that enter consciousness with a peculiar persuasiveness, and not being attributable to any living person, they will naturally be at- tributed either to divinity or to spirit. I have shown that the desire for the extraordinary and for the excitement which the extraordinary produces is an important factor in the genesis of those ideas 196 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT leading to a belief in spirits. Another potent factor in the causation of these ideas is transfer- ence. Transference is the re-association in the individ- ual's unconscious mind of mental states that are originally associated with one person (father or mother), with another person. The individual un- consciously transfers his own mental states from one person to another. The mental states thus transferred include both types — images andjnternal sensations. External stimuli cannot be included because they do not group themselves. Transferring an image or emo- tion from one individual re-associating in his own mind that image or emotion with the other person, or more properly speaking, with the ideas held by the first person about the other. Thus the emo- tions felt in infancy toward the father are uncon- sciously transferred to the psychoanalyst, the phy- sician, clergyman, lawyer, etc. The physician or psychoanalyst today arouses in the individual the same unconscious feelings and ideas that the father did years ago. In spiritism we see the transfer of these feelings to the medium. In infancy the father was re- garded as omniscient and omnipotent. If the me- dium has received in later years this transference, he becomes omnipotent or at least as omnipotent as the reality feeling of the individual will allow him to be. Thus, whatever powers can be attributed to the medium, over and above those possessed by THE MECHANISMS 197 ordinary people, will help to make the medium om- nipotent in the eyes of the individual. In order to be wholly omnipotent, he would have to be able to break all the observed laws of natural phenomena. The more of these laws he can break, the more pow- erful he becomes, and the closer he approaches to the actually omnipotent. The closer he approaches this limit, the greater the individual's satisfaction ; as it is a gratification of his own unconscious wish both to be omnipotent and to partake of omnipo- tence. Therefore the spiritist's aim is solely to collect these breaks. Every so-called proof of existence after death thus feeds both the unconscious wish of the spiritist to be omnipotent and strengthens the transference of the spiritist to the medium, thus reviving in the spiritist the original transference that he had for his own parent when he was an infant. The spiritist's attitude toAvard the medium is. therefore an almost exclusively infantile atti- tude, as is indeed that of many toward their heroes. We have here the apparent paradox of a person's feeding his unconscious desire to be himself omni- potent, by making another person, the medium, om- nipotent. Even Sir Oliver Lodge, in referring to the " privileged persons " ^ who are allowed to be the instruments of communication of the messages from the departed, shows a wholy unscientific rev- erence for the medium, and the characteristically infantile attitude. 1 How I Know the Dead Eaoist, McClure's Magazine, Nov., 1920. 198 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT But we know that the earliest feelings of the infant, even before the father has become the em- bodiment of omnipotence for him, are themselves feelings of absolute omnipotence. There is at the earliest stage of mental development nothing in the situation of any infant to furnish him any other ideas than that he possesses all the power in the world. He has but to utter an inarticulate cry, and to him come, apparently of their own accord, the gratifications of all the desires that he has. His internal sensations, if he is a healthy baby, are all those of reiterated satisfactions of wishes. He can do everything he wants. If in later years his greatest desire is to prove the existence of life after death, his omnipotence is complete as a baby's if he can get the same feel- ing of satisfaction from the thoughts he can think about this problem. It is- no wonder then that so many men's minds show this trend unconsciously even if consciously they deny it. Everything in their inner life tends that way, and it is hopeless to stop the drift of it all except by means of the principle of reality thinking which puts a stop to dreaming and makes an effort to find how things really are related to each other in the universe. Thus the apparent paradox of a person's attribut- ing omnipotence to another person in order to gain the same himself is apparent only. Unconsciously the spiritist identifies himself with the medium; and, the identification being both centripetal and extrinsic, he identifies the medium with the most THE MECHANISMS 199 omnipotent being he conceived of in Ms infancy — his father. In the history of the individual spiritist, the de- velopment of the feeling of omnipotence appears- in three stages. First, as an infant he feels omnipo- o^ tent himself, and with the best reasons in the world. Second, he learns there are limits to his own omni- ^ potence, as he has one disappointment after an- other, as one after another of his wishes is frus- trated. If now the principle of reality thinking gains the ascendancy in his mind — an extremely rare happening, making the actual scientific man — he enters the third stage, and realizes the true rela- C tion of himself to the external world, and that he and it are governed by exactly the same universal natural law. Otherwise he remains intellectually an infant. The fourth stage is where his pleasure- thinking overcomes him again, and he reinterprets reality according" to his wishes and yields little by little, as even great scientists have done, to the pres- sure of the unconscious. He sees " evidences '^ of survival naturally at the time of his life when some sort of survival has a peculiar desirability in his eyes, and in directing his gaze to the evidences he averts it necessarily from the facts of nature. Every instance when natural law, collated with so much energy by the aid of the reality principle, is broken through gives him one more bit of omni- potence, via the medium, and he re-lives as far as his thought mechanisms go, the second stage of his intellectual development, where his own omnipo^ L 200 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT tence has given way to the omnipotence of his fa- ther. The only advance he can then make in this retrograde re-living is to attain the final or fifth stage, which is identical with the first, his com- plete intellectual infancy and with it his feeling of absolute omnipotence. I cannot too strongly emphasize that the abandonment of the reality prin- ciple of thought is the first step leading inevitably toward second childhood, and the actions of men of intellect in turning toward spiritism is an un- failing indication of involution, whereupon they cease to be scientists, become first poets, then chil- dren and finally infants. CHAPTER VI UNCONSCIOtJS EMOTIONS AND WILL By means of a purely intellectual process the as- sociation experiments of Jung develop in some per- sons a decided emotional conflict. From other re- searches of psychoanalysts too it is certain that these conflicts are in the unconscious of the indi- vidual and that the balance of power on one side or the other of the internal and unconscious strug- gle is the determining factor in the individuars choice of an occupation for his vocation or for his avocation. § 1. The Conflict-Split Character Among spiritists we find those who make it their vocation to study in their own way the manifesta- tions of the unconscious conflict and those whose avocation is the same type of activity. But both are showing their preoccupation with a subject that has not yet received from science corroboration or authorization as a subject open to really scientiflc study. In short, they are studying ostensibly cer- tain phenomena; but psychoanalysis is convinced Miat what they are really studying is their own con- flicts caused by their death complex. The conflict-split character is a thing in itself, separate entirely from the situation or environment 201 202 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT in which it may be placed. For the character or disposition that contains an innate or acquired con- flict, or lack of balance, or uneven distribution of strain, there is naturally no external cure. Such a character is really worse than a man with a broken arm or leg or spine. But the significant fact is that ordinary medical examination fails to reveal any physical defect. The muscles, volun- tary and involuntary, in such an individual are tensed in such a way that they, and the organs they supply, do not perform their functions properly; but the tension itself comes not from the muscle but from the brain or nerves and ultimately from the ideas in the individual's mind. If an idea is only a part of the total and com- pletely inter-integrated unitary organism, it is it- self part of the effect which it itself causes. It is therefore part cause and part effect, and partakes of both qualities either one of which is generally re- garded as logically the contradictory of the other. §2. The Postural Tonus The name technically given to the numerous nerve impulses sent every second to the muscles, and to the effect produced by them there, is the " postural tonus." ^ It is the postural tonus that keeps one sitting or standing as a unit, wrinkles the brow in deep thought, diminishes or increases secretion of gastric juice, bile, pancreatic juice, etc. A redisposition of many muscular strains takes iKempf: The Autonomic Functions and the Personality. 1918. UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 203 place at any sudden change in the environment or at any greatly different idea causing a deep emo- tion. The idea causes the change in the postural tonus or distribution of muscular strains, and the conscious or unconscious perception of a part of these muscular strains constitutes the emotion it- / self. ' All emotions are not the perception of the pos- tural tonus and all postural tonuses do not, when perceived, constitute emotions. An emotion is the perception of a change in the postural tonus of such an extent as to produce an effect. But the effect need not be one that enters consciousness. The effect must only be so minimally extensive that by some means it may later be known to have taken place. Therefore an emotion is but the result of a change. It is no state of mind or body or both, but is the dynamic alteration of some or all of the pos- tural tonuses that are continuously changing in the body. It is admitted that the body, whether awake \ or asleep, is never without postural tonuses. The j only human body without postural tonus is a / corpse. In fact the animal body may be described n^ at any time as the algebraic sum of its postural • tonuses, just as an atom is the result of the lines of . force composing it. It would thus be said that the emotions, if they are not other than the changes of strains, must be continuous in the body. This indeed they are. Only when the changes become extensive enough 204 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIKIT greatly to agitate the body are they commonly called emotions. The perception of the change is the emotion. Some changes are not great enough to cause consciousness to awaken or if awake to turn to that particular part of the body where the change takes place. Other changes are so great as to awaken it or narrow it, at the same^time focus- sing conscious attention on one element of the thought stream. Some are small and sudden, others are great and slow. The change in the pos- tural tonus caused by a sudden increase or decrease in the barometric pressure is recognizedly emo- tional in its nature. § 3. Emotion a Change of Relation An emotion is either a perceived or an unper- ceived change in the relation between the external and internal ego. By far the greater majority of the changes in this relation are not consciously per- ceived. Any change of relation between external environment and internal disposition, requiring an adaptation of the body, and there are few which do not, immediately causes that adaptation; and only when the adaptation is of sufficient grossness does it penetrate into consciousness as a perception of the body in a state of turmoil (unpleasant) or excitement (pleasant). The adaptations to inter- nal and external conditions made by the blood, the blood vessels, the digestive and eliminative func- tions are all included in the general adaptive activ- ity of the body ; but generally only the l^st n^m^d^ UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 205 enters consciousness to the extent of being pre- pared for in advance, voluntarily. Even this is an acquired conscious volition, demanded, as are all others, by our being members of society. As the adaptive activity is universal, perennial, ceaseless, it will naturally occur that every activ- ity of the body might just as well be called an emo- tion as any other. But we do not call many violent activities emotions, although they are accompanied by consciously perceived excitement pervading the entire organism. Ball playing, tennis, boxing, polo playing, swimming, rowing, running, etc., are all violent exertions ; but the reason they are not called emotions, although they are highly elaborated adaptations, is that the sensations emanating fron^ the internal organs of the body are not occupying the centre of the field of conscious attention. The unconscious is hugely gratified by all this stirring life, but has succeeded for the moment in engaging the attention of the individual upon ex- ternals. While the inner excitement gained by outer activity is most pleasurable for the cave man -> within us, blindly to exercise our muscles just for / pure muscle erotism does not interest conscious- ^ ness. So we invent games in which there is a small amount of abstraction to occupy consciousness and make a compromise with the excitement-loving un- conscious, in that we make our abstractions apply to large movements of the body instead of to infin- itesimal movements, or their equivalent, of the brain and nerve substance. 206 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT The sensations emanating from the internal or- gans, heart, lungs, viscera, stomach, even the skin, are much more noticeable when the body is at rest. V Therefore it is possible that a person leading an inactive life will lead a much more emotional one, than a person who leads an active life. This ap- plies to a life that uses up the libido in outward activity, such as that of a day labourer or farmer of the old school. There are many occupations, such as that of the sailor, in fine weather, where the conditions are such that a vigorous physique is de- veloped and is left without adequate outlet, and with many hours of enforced idleness, wherein the emotions, or sensations from certain parts of the body itself, become unduly prominent. From this point of view^ the doctrine of the Stoics that emotions are diseases is easily appreciated. They are more reasonably called diseases if they are not the subsidiary accompaniment of an activity directed toward the external world, but are the object of direct voluntary attention. The emotions that are repressed, or dammed back, are distinctly not merely subsidiary concom- itants of outgoing activity but are the centre of conscious attention, for a while at least, and are then choked down, and put out of consciousness; that is, they have to be attended to in order to be dammed back. We may profitably consider the conditions in which emotions themselves become the centre of conscious attention. Natural animal reaction is UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 207 an external reaction in most animals except those that feign death to escape an enemy; and in the opposite situation, namely of sex activity, the ac- tions are universally physical embracing the entire physique of the animal. In the animal world the only restraint laid upon reaction to environment comes from without, and in the shape of fear in- spired by present or anticipated injury. § 4. Repression In the human race restraint is similarly initiated though not carried out in the same manner in every case. We may easily imagine a situation in which a child is forced by circumstances to repress its activity that constitutes the instinctive reaction to an unpleasing environment. He tries to run away, but is held back. He tries to strike the object un- pleasing to him, but is held fast by a stronger child or adult. In this situation struggling gives him a partial relief but not a wholly satisfactory one. We may also easily imagine an individual so constituted as to react not outwardly but in- wardly. He will be praised for it, very early in life. He will be such a good little boy and no trouble to any one. And he may grow up into such a good little man, that he will make the finest kind of tool for the constitutional trouble-maker to use for his own purposes. But here, as ever, the advantage to society is a disadvantage to the individual, though we might see in the multiplication of such individuals a de- 208 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT terioration of society itself. 'Everything points to the detrimental nature of any repression of emo- tion whatsoever. If we cannot express ourselves because of the squeamishness of our social environ- ment, so much the worse for it. The strength of a fabric is measured by what it can stand. The wholesomeness of social relations is detracted from by the inability to hear a man or woman give vent to their feelings within reasonable limits. But the sensitive type of people, who identify them- selves vividly with others, those of the artistic tem- \ perament are likely to restrain themselves too much. Hear what Ludwig Frank ^ says in his Affektstorungen about the neurotic type: " Through their increased memory capacity they also have the ability easily to reproduce, with the original emotional tone, what they have lived through. In social life such people are distin- guished for their vivacity; they are easily trans- ported by the stories of others, still more, for ex- ample, by their own special favourite literature and by the theatre. Furthermore, they are enabled, by relating their own experiences and the emotions released, to interest or even transport other people. /It is generally the lively and ingenious persons in / society, with many-sided, especially artistic, inter- ests, who very soon make an impression by their \ engaging manners. They are not the ordinary peo- ^^ pie with the herd instinct. The interesting qual- ity of their minds stamps them as having the artis- 1 A Freudian of Zurich. UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 209 tic nature. All psychoneurotics are either them- selves artists or dilettantes or they have a special understanding in every sphere of art. This is ren- dered possible by the intensity of their emotional life. ... If such people remain healthy — for hap- pily in only a small number of people so disposed is a psychoneurosis reached — they have an ex- •>. traordinary importance for their fellow-men. For j they understand how to get enjoyment out of life i in a very high degree, and to beautify it for others." / § 5. Repression and Conflict An act that has to be carried out by a person who is virtually a mechanism half or more than half, of which is operating against, or not entirely with the rest of it, is an act that is associated with unpleas- ant emotions. The unpleasant emotions are the organic reactions, whether sub-perceived or apper- ceived, and the organic reactions have various ef- fects upon the physical mechanism. One of these effects is the increase of the supply of jidrenalin sent to the blood, another the increase of glycogen. Other effects are correlative with these such as the exudation, and the closing of the ducts supplying moisture to the mouth and throat. Blushing is an- other organic reaction clearly connected with ideas. The organic reactions need not be situated or show themselves in the face or in the intestinal organs solely. They exist everywhere in the body. The functioning of the entire mind and body as a whole, whose integrity has never been impaired 210 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT in harmoniousness, is a phenomenon seen only in the young — in infants and in very young children. In them, if they be not organically defective to start with, each act is accompanied by the ideas and emotions that have evolved as the inevitable result of millennia of evolution. The only thing that can stop a perfectly harmonious continuation of this interplay of parts of the organism as a totality is some unfortunate experience. What is unfortu- nate varies with the complexity of the organism. A crab may lose a claw and grow another; a man losing an arm remains not only physically but jmentally one armed. / The perfectly harmonious functioning of the body ceases when the reactions naturally caused by the environment are in some way blocked. Among the blocked processes are the emotions, some of which in every civilized adult are thus inhibited. The in- hibited emotions or those whose expression is blocked become unconscious emotions. That they cease being emotions by virtue of being blocked is only another way of saying they are turned from conscious into unconscious emotions. Their status as unconscious emotions, while being admitted by some, is on technical grounds denied. " Unless an unconscious excitation or wish suc- ceeds in getting the thing-ideas representing it translated into word-ideas (but not necessarily into actual words), or, to express it differently, unless in the foreconscious the word-memory residues are activated which correspond to the unconscious idea- UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 211 tional representatives of the wish, it remains an unconscious or repressed one. Its energy develops neither affects, nor movement." " There are no unconscious affects. One often speaks, to be sure, of unconscious affects (love, hate, guilt, resentment, etc. ) and this usage, though not strictly correct, is a legitimate clinical con- venience. An affect is really a conscious sensory perception of a bodily state. Without conscious- ness it does not exist. When we speak of an unconscious affect we mean either that the affect is really developed and therefore conscious, though attached to some other ideas than those originally representing it, or else we mean merely a poten- tiality of its development — the tensions of the Un- conscious that might develop as affects of hate, love, etc., if released from foreconscious inhibition." ^ In this and similar passages there is implied a real though latent (unconscious) wish-energy con- nected in the unconscious with ideas which never emerge into consciousness. The fact, however, that a wish can, indeed every wish does, produce a sen- sory perception does not seem to some persons to suggest that an internal sensation may exist with- out causing a coenesthetic perception. The so- called common sensations, hunger, thirst, lust, diz- ziness, nausea, etc., are just as truly the effect of physical stimuli of the peripheral sensory or- gans situated in different parts of the body as the actual conscious affects or emotions are the iFrink: Morlid Fears mid Compulsions, page 145. 212 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT " conscious sensory perception of a bodily state." If there must be a physical basis for a wish, and if that wish is entering consciousness in more or less disguised form every hour of the day, there must also be a physical basis for emotions, quite as much when they are not, as when they are, in con- sciousness. If these states of the body are not con- sciously perceived every hour of the day, their not being perceived is no proof of their non-existence. Therefore saying that " there are really no con- scious affects " (emotions) is no more denying the existence of their physical substrate when they do not exist in consciousness than saying a wish does not enter consciousness in its original form denies the existence, in the unconscious, of that original form. And if emotions do not continuously appear in consciousness, there is no more reason to suppose that their physical substrate does not exist in the body in the interim between their several mani- festations than there is reason to suppose that the original wish idea which is kept securely locked in the unconscious, does not exist in a very definite form which by means of the appropriate psycho- analytic technique may be evoked and live in con- sciousness. § 6. Emotion Unceasing An emotion therefore is a part of the total re- / action of the organism to its environment. It is a i never-ending reaction. We have no more reason to UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 213 say that any part of the body is at any time en- tirely without change than we have to say that the heart does not beat during sleep. A conscious emotion is only a part of the total reaction of the organism to the environment. It is only a part simply because for ages man has singled out certain parts of the reaction that were per- ^ ceptible to him and has given them this name. The emotional reaction is only a part of the total re- action simply because there have, in the history of mankind, been reasons for singling out certain por- tions of the total reaction. The reasons are that these portions were strikingly associated with the other senses of sight, sound, etc. How man felt to himself when he w^as terribly excited, has always been a strong sensation, and likewise how other peo- ple looked, sounded and " touched " or " felt " to him, when he was not excited and they were, and also when he was excited as well as they. These are all different groups of qualities of conscious- ness. From a purely objective point of view there is no reason for picking out one set of organic re- actions to the total mental and physical situation and calling it an emotion, except its strikingness and the resultant desire to talk about it. History has shown that men have done little of value with the emotions. Early in the history of systematic thought the Stoics came to the conclu- sion that the emotions were diseases or sufferings and that name in Greek (patheia) was given to them. The Stoic discipline was purposed to school 214 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT men out of this suffering, much as Christian Sci- ence today attempts to annul diseases. The Stoics aimed at the opposite of patheia^ which is apatheia (apathy) or absence of suffering. Thus an important group of thinkers early made a study, according to their opportunities, of the group of organic reactions now called emotions, but then called sufferings, and later passions (which is the Latin equivalent for patheia) ; and came to a conclusion concerning them analogous, in some re- spects, to the dicta of the Christian Scientists. " You should annihilate your emotions," said the Stoics, " because they are never good but only ill.'' " You must verbally annihilate disease by a per- petual negative affirmation that disease is a nega- tion, because it is not health, and therefore does not exist," say the Christian Scientists. Neither the Stoics with their repression, nor the Christian Scientists with their negative affirmation both touching partial reactions of the organism to its total environment, saw the truth in full. It is interesting to note in this connection what a mod- ern psychology of the unconscious has discovered about the people who do now what the Stoics were advised to do 2500 years ago. The person who re- presses his emotions, gains a control over certain functions of his body, certain glands (for example the tear glands and others) and the muscular con- trol over the face, a control which is exactly con- trary to the natural working of these parts. In a sense he thus gives a permanent twist to his psy- \ UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 215 chophysical organism. What even a twisted or- j ganism can accomplish is a wonder. In trees it is j even a picturesque quality. What the twist in the personality accomplished by stoicism did for the individual was to make him more adaptable to the purposes of the state, as it restrained his activity so that it should not be in- jurious to other individuals, this being one of the aims of society. , § 7. Emotion and Health In health the proper functioning of the various bodily organs generally does not enter conscious- ness directly. Some people glory in the fact that they never know they have a stomach except when they are hungry. But the indirect results of the well-working organs appear in consciousness as the emotional tone of the day's experiences. A dys- peptic teacher will not see the pupils as they are but as little devils. And even the children suspect that the psychic atmosphere of the school room that results from the gastric disturbance is due to the teacher's not feeling well. The bodily changes in hunger, rage, and fear have been so well described by Cannon that it is unnecessary to more than re- fer to them here. Is the fear the result of the ^. bodily change or does the bodily change cause the fear? Psychoanalytic research has shown that a fear may have various and far-reaching physical as well as mental results and that the fear in question is 216 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT not proven to be of other than psychic origin. Furthermore a specific fear such as that of dogs, tunnels, snakes, thunderstorms, open places, closed places, etc., may be only a conscious phase of an unconscious fear that concerns something far more intimate than what appears on the surface. The actual thing consciously feared is almost never an adequate cause for the amount of emotion evoked. The fear of the patient must really be of something far more vital. The fear of thunderstorms is ut- terly disproportionate to the amount of emotion that would be commensurate with the facts of mor- tality in thunderstorms as shown by the theory of probabilities. It is as if the unconscious had to have for its own satisfaction an approximate amount of internal excitement, and, failing to get that out of the ordinary run of human experience fixed upon some more or less frequently occurring phenomenon. Similarly the psychical researchers, each and every one of them, have failed to get out of life the normal emotional reaction and have de- voted their energy toward consciously carrying out measures to still their unconscious fears. § 8. Fear Freud points out that for the individual the prime fearsome experience is the very act of being born, and that Macduff was without fear because he was not naturally born of woman, but from his " mother's womb untimely ripp'd." Should we call this fear implanted in mankind at birth, a physical UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 217 or a mental fear? As the majority of humans are naturally born and yet develop some fear attached haphazard to various human experiences we should have to say that it is mental fear, or fear of having an exclusively psychic origin. And yet it is a fear that is caused at a time when the individual has never been fully conscious. It is a fear that in its origin is and, in later existence remains, uncon- scious, a generic apprehensiveness attachable after- ward to any sort of experience whatever, whether such experience is objectively dangerous or not. And, on the other hand, how many are the really dangerous situations that do not cause the least fear in men and women! The ravages of certain diseases according to the absolute objective facts of their mortality, should, if humans reasoned logically, be the object of the most active fear and be attacked with relentless energy. But either the collective unconscious of the communities or races decimated by these diseases gets a satisfaction out of the excitement caused by them or the conscious mentality of the groups is not logical or clear enough to see the connection. Only at some distant time in the future when the conscious minds of men and women reckon with the unconscious, will the multitudinous specific fears be recognized as illogical and steps taken to remove as far as pos- sible from the external situation the really danger- ous factors. Among the dangerous factors of the present day psychical and physical situation the most danger- 218 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT ous of all is the ignorance, and the unwillingness / of men to become cognizant, of the part that is played by the unconscious in the every day life of \ humanity, both normal and abnormal men. This ignorance is natural enough on account of the com- paratively recent discovery of the main facts. The unwillingness to become aware of the function of tlie uhconscious is due to quite other causes. The greatest of these is the apparently unpleasant nature of the concept, which is that of an almost unlimited power, misdirected and at first glance seeming immoral, or at least unmoral, and incon- gruous with the aims of society as generally under- stood, in spite of the fact that the perversion of this power is not its only possible employment. It can just as well be socially used as asocially deflected from the external world to the internal world of the individual. Just now the world is suffering from a too great release of energy begun in the world war, and not yet directed into channels of % usefulness to humanity at large. § 9. Will To some person " unconscious will " is only a misnomer because they consider that the act of will- ing, in the only possible way in which it could be regarded as free will, must be conscious. Con- scious will alone implies an individual personality that can deliberate for the ego and make free ra- tional choice, or come to a decision as to what con- UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 219 stitutes alternatives. In this respect we grant all that is required by the advocates of free will. As far as consciousness is concerned there must be only conscious mental activity, and it would be in- consistent and contradictory to speak of an uncon- scious will. The will is free to choose between two ideas, but it is not directly free to choose what ideas shall be presented. It may, for example, occur to me to go to one place or to another, and I exercise my free- dom of conscious will in picking which place to go. But why were these two of the many places I might go offered to my conscious mind by my unconscious mind? That is a matter which does not come within the scope of my conscious freedom of will. In this respect I, as a totality of conscious and unconscious activities am not at present a free agent if ever I was at any time. I may approach freedom as a limit, mathematically speaking, if I begin now to take my unconscious in hand and train it to utter its wealth of mental resources more freely. The repression of such vast mental mate rial into the unconscious of every person is what really prevents his will from being free. His will is bound only because his mind is not free, because it is, in other words, so largely unconscious. The differences in men and women in this respect are easily observable. Not the effusive talker, nor yet the insistent worker along one line, is the freest, 220 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT but that individual whose physical and mental ac- tivities have the widest scope, the fewest inhibitions both conscious and unconscious. § 10. Will and Emotion The clearest possible illustration of the uncon- scious mental activity is furnished by the cases in which a person is going about his business in the routine way and suddenly faces an unexpected sit- uation for which he is prepared neither by mental training nor by experience. He becomes discon- certed and does some foolish thing. " Conscious- ness/' to use the words of Angell,^ " cannot in- stantly adapt itself to the new situation and in the meantime the motor energy overflows in what we call the expressions of emotion." He has described the expressions of emotion ( on p. 321 ) as follows : " The moment the stimulus takes on an emotional hue, however, as we have just seen, the guidance of consciousness is more or less abridged." This illustrates the difference between the point of view of mental life as consciousness only, and as both conscious and unconscious together. When the guidance of consciousness is abridged, what hap- pens is the entrance into consciousness of a mass of organic sensations that were in the unconscious just before. Angell goes on to say that " the only alternative is an overflow of the nervous currents into the in- voluntary pathways and the instinctive hereditary 1 Psychology, page 322. UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 221 pathways of the voluntary system." But from the analytic point of view it seems that what happens here is not an overflow of conscious activity into) involuntary (unconscious) pathways, but an irrup- tion of what before were unconscious perceptions, an irruption of these unconscious factors into con- sciousness, a sudden activation of processes that had just before been quiescent, or latent. Further he says, " Any situation is emotional in which an impediment to the ongoing activity is en- countered so serious as to break up the progress of 0--^ the consciously directed co-ordinations occurring at the moment.'' This is another example of a merely one-sided view. Any situation is emotional which arouses the internal sensation to such a pitch that although ordinarily they are outside of or below conscious- ness, now, at these special times, they force them- selves upon consciousness, breaking down all bars which consciousness (and conscious psychology) have erected against them. Of course " breaking up the progress of the consciously directed co- ordinations occurring at the moment " is a nasty thing to do, particularly if one is gripping tight the narrow seat of consciousness and expecting it to control everything in sight, which would indeed be a foolish expectation. Angell continues the same sentence; (an impedi- ment to the ongoing activity is encountered) " of a character requiring a definitely new adaptive re- action of consciousness in order to surmount it." 222 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT According to current psychology the " ongoing ac- tivity " is exclusively consciousness, no recognition being made of the unconscious perception feeling and willing going on simultaneously and constitu- ting by far the most extensive field of mental action. The notion, too, that " a definitely new adaptive re- action of consciousness '' is requisite, is evidently purely a one-sided view. No reaction can be con- scious. The reaction is a fact of the unconscious mentality and a part of it enters consciousness and never or rarely all of the reaction. On the other hand the mind-body combination, regardless of con- sciousness or unconsciousness, is adaptively react- ing all the time whether we wake or sleep. Some of these processes or movements enter conscious- ness, others do not. He practically admits as much in his next sen- tence : " The case represents in a way the very con- ditions under which we found consciousness first coming to light " (in the evolution of animate life) . Consciousness is the attainment of a certain degree of complexity of organization. " Consciousness cannot instantly adapt itself to the new situation, and in the meantime the motor energy overflows in what we call the expressions of emotion." This would be restated, with the uncon- scious activity in view, in some such way as that consciousness does not need to adapt itself in- stantly to any new situation as the adaptation is the work of the unconscious largely. In fact on occasions of violent emotion consciousness is so UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 223 completely occupied with organic sensations or with some special external sense that the rest of the visual, auditory and other qualities are ex- cluded from consciousness and make such slight im- pressions that the memory of them is generally permanently an unconscious memory. At such times a narrowing of the visual and auditory con- sciousness takes place which results in something like a veil being drawn over the emotional episode, or over a part of the visual, auditory, tactual, etc., impressions. By the " instinctive hereditary path- ways of the voluntary system " being thus over- flowed by the emotion he evidently means just what I have called the internal sensations. The fact that this internal sensation irradiates along the pathways of the voluntary system, which at the time are deprived of conscious control, sug- gests two important considerations. The first is that the so-called voluntary muscles are not always under voluntary control, that is, they are some- times, as in strong emotions, under the control, if it may be called control, of the unconscious. The sec- ond is that the emotion itself is much more uncon- scious than conscious, no matter how strong it may be. The stronger it is, the more vivid the light which is focussed, not on the diversity of sources of feeling, which are exceedingly numerous, but chiefly on some one sense element of sight or sound or touch, which for a brief time looms so large in con- sciousness as to obscure all other sensations. It is only as the Internal disturbance dies down 224 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT that one usually recalls the physical elements that composed it. Whatever actions may have been per- formed are recalled only later, if at all. Activity was almost entirely unconscious at the time of the greatest intensity of emotion, and it is frequently either completely forgotten or the memories of it are hopelessly distorted. This is proved by the un- reliability of the testimony of excited witnesses. Only the unemotional observer can recall correctly the details of any incident causing great emotion in the persons most concerned. Those most excited are most unconscious and have least free will. Their actions are under the control of that part of their personality — their unconscious — which is not directly subject to the will. In view of the fact that the unconscious comprises so large, and consciousness so small, a part of the entire personality, of the individual, it is thus clear why we are only to a very slight degree interested in the freedom of the will and why unconscious volition is not a topic to be treated at great length under this title. As libido it would fill a library of volumes. § 11. Images and Will i have called the conscious voluntary visual rep- resentation a visual mental image. I might thus speak of images as auditory, olfactory, gustatory, cutaneous and thermal, kinesthetic and organic sense qualities. There are some who deny the ex- istence of these separate representations but those UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 225 who have observed them in themselves, or believe they have, are united on the possibility of having all these types of imagery in consciousness, with the possible exception of organic and pain and pleasure. There is no doubt that auditory impressions are spontaneously represented to consciousness, in other words that there are auditory "memory images " and they come without any feeling what- soever of being willed, desired or wished for. It is one of the commonest of occurrences to have a tune " running through " one's head. These tunes come of their own accord, and while they may, ap- parently, be voluntarily continued and varied, their actual presence at the time of their first coming cannot be accounted for as an act of will. This fact suggests that visual, olfactory, and other classes of images are, as a matter of fact, quite as much beyond voluntary recall as are the spontaneously occurring tunes I have just men- tioned. And if the other classes of images are be- yond voluntary recall, surely the images of internal sensations, if such exist, as some believe, must be quite as spontaneous. If, furthermore, we realize that the internal sensations are always presenta- tions whenever they enter consciousness, it is nec- essary to admit that they are no more subject to the will, in the ordinary sense, than any other pre- sentation. Remembering, however, that will is itself the per- ception of an internal sensation, we realize that a -t 226 MAN^S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT voluntary recall of an idea (representation) is bnt the occurrence of that idea, in association with the volitional feeling, and that the recalling of an emo- tion voluntarily would be only the spontaneous oc- currence of that emotion, accompanied by the feel- ing of having willed it, which is itself a spontane- ous internal sensation. So, too, would the image of an emotion, if the term be allowed, and the thing believed as possible, be but the spontaneous emer- gence of the representation of the emotion, accom- panied also by the volitional feeling, or internal sensation which is the unconscious basis of it. § 12. Recalling a Name Possibly the part which volition plays in evoking these various representations may be clearer if we take the illustration of trying to recall a name. In this instance it is as if we were trying to fill a hole with something which w^ould just fit it. Fur- thermore it is very much like filling a hole we can- not see, for if we could see it, we should see its shape, and seeing the shape of the holes the letters would fit into would be as easy as reading a name in a stencil. But while we cannot see this stencil, we are immediately aware of the fact, when the letters of the stencil which we cannot see, are filled with the letters we can see. This is a very extraor- dinary situation, and makes it quite evident that the kno\\ledge of the filling out of these letters must be gained from a sense other than sight. Or we could say the same thing about sound. If the UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 227 actual name were not written or printed eacli time, but spoken by ourselves or some one else, there would still be the sense of sameness, which is no part of the auditory quality, but is a sensation of another quality, and the same sense as operated in connection with the visual sensations. When I wish to recall the name of another per- son who has done or said some special thing or been seen by me on some special occasion, I begin run- ning over several names in my mind, particularly those beginning with a certain letter, which I think is the initial of the required name. Not infre- quently I am mistaken in this. I go over name after name, the words coming at will (i. e., accom- panied by a feeling of volition) until they stop coming. Then there is an awkward pause. I feel at a loss. As far as names go, my mind is a blank. Then, if after a minute or two of blankness another name occurs to me, I feel that it has come of its own accord, and although I was trying to think of the name Parker, Preston appeared. How much was Preston recalled at will? Not at all. I was exert- ing all the will-power I had in order to recall Parker. I was not willing Preston at all. Can Preston truly be said to have come through any vol- untary effort on my part? No more can Parker, ^ even though it comes as the next name. (J'f^v^ When then can I be said to be willing? Names in general that begin with P. But if I have been honest with myself, and have put down on paper or have spoken out all the names and all the ideas 228 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT which have come into my mind, I must confess that other names than those beginning with P have oc- curred to me, also other thoughts than mere names I have selected. I have, as it were, shut my eyes or my lips to all names beginning with any other let- ter, and to all other mental occurrences not names, in spite of which some did nevertheless leak through. This narrowing of consciousness for selective purposes blinds us to what is going on in the part of the mind screened out by our name-selecting mechanism. But this takes place in every kind of directed thinking, which is merely selected think- ing, screened, bolted, sifted, sieved, with a fine wire gauze netting, adjusted to the exact size of what we want to cull out of sense experience in general or out of its representations or mental imagery. In this recalling-of-a-name situation we are sit- ting with a screen, this time in the shape of a sten- cil, in our hands, and are waiting until some name shall come along that fits exactly. But this implies a greater willingness than usual to allow names to fly through our heads. In being thus disposed to entertain names at random we are opening our con- scious mind to a flood of representations which emerge from the unconscious. At these times we open the gates wider to ideas and feelings from the unconscious, and the ideas and feelings come in infinite numbers, and, for the time being, we take those that fit our special stencil, and ignore all the rest. But if we knew how to observe, compare and UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 229 study the rest, we should be learning something about the contents of the unconscious. We are thus both opening and closing our mind at the same time, — opening it to allow the flow of more representations through it than we generally allow, and in a sense closing it to avoid looking at, or becoming aware of, almost all that we have other- wise admitted. We admit such ideas into con- sciousness in a sort of negative way, dismissing them at once if they do not fulfil a certain require- ment. If one of them does fulfil it, we accept it at once and dismiss its entire train of followers. While this is of course most business-like and most practical from the point of view of finding the name Parker, it very much resembles antiquated methods of manufacture where 80 per cent, to 90 per cent, of the raw product was thrown away to clutter the earth or pollute streams. But as mod- ern industrial economics progresses, we find some use for more and more of the by-products. Kegarding the series of names of people begin- ning with P as raw material out of which I wished to extract only the name Parker to keep, and fling a hundred away, I can regard in turn all names be- ginning with P as the material that is to be ex- tracted from a still greater raw material, say fam- ily names in general. I recall all the family names I can, and keep only those beginning with P. Or I can enlarge my scope still farther and, allowing all sorts of representations to come to my conscious- ness, record only such of them as are family names. a. 230 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT Finally I can remove all restrictions whatever, and write, if I can write fast enough, or tell some other person, or even silently review, any and all ideas which come to consciousness. In this posi- /tion of having removed all selective machinery from my mind I am in a position of observing the " free associations'' by the psychoanalytic method of mental investigation. If it is said that when we are looking for the name Parker and cannot find it, we are surely will- ing Parker, and the same for names beginning with P, with family names in general and so on till we get to the free associations utterly unrestricted, it might be asked what it was that caused us to will to remember the name Parker. It was evidently some special value that Parker had for us at that particular time, — a special value that made us want it or wish for it above all other names, and quite unconnected with the familiar wishing for things just because at the time we have them not. The special wish value that is possessed by a name, even when it is out of consciousness is an ex- ceedingly peculiar thing. Contradictory as it may appear, the name Parker, which we were wishing for, is for a time kept out of consciousness by the fact that there is behind it a strong wish against its coming into consciousness. This shows quite clearly how we are at variance with ourselves even when we are trying to recall a UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 231 name. Curiously we wish the name but it is not forthcoming. Unconsciously there is a strong force "" dragging the name into oblivion, a force which we '-^ consciously oppose, at the same time getting the feeling of willing, which is due to the opposition set up by the unconscious. This condition of being at variance with ourselves o constitutes what has been called the unconscious conflict. , In this case it is only partly unconscious. The struggle to recover the name Parker is quite conscious, as are all the means employed to drag the name from oblivion. But we are fishing with lines let dow^n into the invisible depths of the soul, baiting our hooks and waiting for whatever name- fishes may bite and be hauled up. The amount of "volition" is just the number of internal sensa- tions associated with the amount of fish-line that we put out and the number of times we do it. What we catch is in no sense to be called the effect of our conscious volition, but it is the effect of ^ what might be called an unconscious volition. The two are ostensibly very different, although there is no reason to believe that they are not essentially the same, with the exception that one of them does not appear above the horizon and come into con- sciousness. Save in extensiveness or expansiveness the sense of volition or feeling of willing is no other than the internal sensation concomitant with a wish or de- sire. It occurs both in consciousness and in the 232 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT unconscious, whence it sometimes does and some- times does not, manifest itself in literal or in sym- bolic forms. § 13. Freedom of the Will When people disagree about whether or not the human will is free, they disagree only because they do not see that consciously the will is free in that we know what we are doing, though we do not know all of its significance ; but if freedom of the will de- pends on a choice of what ideas are behind the walled action, the will is not free in the same sense, for we have no direct conscious control over what ideas shall come into the mind. One would naturally say that unconsciously the will is not free, or that the unconscious will is not free, because it is without the control of the con- scious mind, and this is in a sense true. So when, we argue about the freedom of the will, it should be asked : Do you mean conscious will or do you mean unconscious trends? § 14. The Unconscious Will The unconscious processes, movements, repre- sentations are all directed toward consciousness and attain that proximity to consciousness depend- ent upon the amount of activation energy which they represent. This activation energy is what might be called the unconscious w^ill, and is gen- erally to be regarded as a will to expression, or a wish to be expressed, in conscious thought, — a UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 233 wish that is gratified in some cases only to the ex- tent that it becomes an overt action, although that action may be one which does not enter the con- sciousness of the person making it, an example being any unconscious mannerism, such as biting lips, various pursings of them, twisting of hands, etc. The removal of all restrictions upon thought is a difficult task for most persons, and for a number of reasons. First it is considered by some a waste of time, by others meaningless, by still others, who are mentally timorous, a terrifying experience, for they may happen to come upon thoughts of death, and representations of funerals and corpses and coffins and graveyards. Others, too, if they let themselves think in this unrestricted manner, would find many unhappy thoughts coming into their consciousness, thoughts of disappointments, of chagrin, of hate or animosity against others, and some individuals would have a sense of guilt aroused in them by im- aginations of a sensual character which would arouse desires they fear to gratify. Indeed, I believe that fear is the main reason that \ prevents most men from looking thus at their own j unconscious minds, from letting many thoughts come into consciousness at all. I am sure that an instinctive fear prevented me from going deeper into my own unconscious, until I realized that it was just like any one's else and by knowing mine I could the more readily account for the other fel- low's. 234 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT I am not recommending to all persons without exception this procedure of admitting to conscious- ness and recording the multitudinous thoughts in- carnadine that throng the unconscious stream, if the ordinary weirs be removed for a short time; although I believe that such a procedure would, in many cases, be followed by salutary results. The thoughts that enter through these opened gates which most men keep locked and barred are real thoughts, no matter how seldom they are allowed through. They are working parts of the mental mechanism, even though as invisible as the works of a watch. I offer, however, the suggestion that in one sense we are all required, for our own peace of mind, to know something about this mental mechanism that is out of sight, because not only are we forced our- selves to repair it and adjust it, if it requires repair or adjustment, but there are practically no mental watchmakers to do it for us, if we should desire it. As I believe, every clergyman, teacher, physician or employer of large numbers of men ought to be able to examine in this way and advise their parish- ioners, pupils, patients and employes, but it is no- torious that most of them do not, simply because they do not realize the importance of this generally neglected part of the mental machine. If the watch tells the time reasonably well, they use it, otherwise they throw it away. But it is an economic waste of vast proportion to reject the mental timepieces that do not mark time in the conYentional manner.. UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 235 In the study of spiritualistic phenomena, how- ever, this research into the unconscious is abso- lutely imperative. For, as stated before, we can- not pretend to make any true statements about something of which we know little or nothing. We cannot know anything adequate about spirit apart from body until we know something about spirit during its residence in the body ; and I submit that such knowledge is at present in a most elementary stage of its development and that it is above all things premature to say that any statement about a spirit apart from the body has any scientific value whatever. In another section I shall try to show how im- possible it is to say we know about disembodied spirit without a fuller knowledge of the uncon- scious than we have at present, and I shall offer what I consider to be an absolute essential to sci- entific research along spiritistic lines, namely the thorough analysis both of medium and of observers. § 15. Summary Having defined an act as a voluntary movement or connected group of movements, it becomes nec- essary to give a meaning to the word voluntary. An act is that movement with which is associated a presentation consisting of an organic feeling of de- sire involving a gratification of some egocentric wish. The act is called voluntary if it is accom- panied by that organic sensation; it is called in- voluntary, if it is not. That is the only difference.. 236 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT What we most energetically will to do is what we •conceive and that is at the same time supported by the organic sensations constituting desire. Where this supporting desire is absent, the act can in no sense be called voluntary. It is quite customary to speak of doing what we do not desire to do, and that through sheer force of will. But it is inaccurate to speak thus. For in doing what we dislike or even fear to do, there is a strong conflict between two conscious desires and probably many more unconscious ones. But that desire, which causes us to do what we do, is dynamically the stronger of the two, and the con- scious aim, as against the conscious or unconscious wishes opposing it, is for a greater good than could be attained by following the path of so-called desire, as opposed to sheer will. In the sense of a power unsupported by desire, will has no significance. The only reason one does not continue to make effort for an object is because desire for it fails. If one desires something as for instance a girl whom fate has given to another or quite taken away, and the desire for that girl con- tinues, it is not rationally a desire for something that exists, but for something that does not, and there results here a situation which is naturally solved by the desire attaching itself to something else. If the man cannot really have the woman on whom he has set his heart, he can set it upon some other woman or for ever rend himself with ungrati- fied desires. UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 237 The total inability to adapt to changing circum- stances like these, it may be remarked in passing, is the characteristic of those who suffer from a fixa- tion of libido on infantile objects, in men usually the mother or mother imago. There is no doubt that a very great adaptation must be made, in cases like this, but it is within the power of the average human that does not have such fixation, to make the adaptation, some in a short time, others in a longer. Those who make it in too short a time are called unsteady or fickle, although some kinds of fickleness are due to another cause. § 16. Telepathy Taking any of the phenomena of spiritism, e. g., telepathy, where an idea in the shape of a mental image of sight, sound, touch, etc., appears in my conscious life, and is of such a nature that I can- not explain how it came there through ordinary conscious perception, it is evidently much more in the spirit of the principle of parsimony to explain it as a production of my own mind, not my con- scious mind, but the unconscious or subconscious mind. Certainly it is not truly scientific to invoke for peculiar mental circumstances an explanation that is far more elaborate and roundabout than necessary. Therefore it will have to be repeatedly emphasized that the scientist's first duty is to ex- plain the apparently exceptional phenomenon of telepathy in any of its forms, for example, as merely the transformation of an unconscious trend into a 238 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIKIT conscious idea, the message to my conscious life from a part of me that is and always will remain almost totally unconscious. The fact later to be discussed, namely that in thus emerging from the unconscious to consciousness, an idea, which in its former state exists as an indefinite craving and in the latter as a definite specific wish, suffers a " sea change into something rich and strange " — the fact of this transformation will account for a great deal, that is otherwise unaccountable, entering conscious- ness. And here it may be remarked that the familiar argument that the so-called super-normal informa- tion is due to mere chance is far more potent when we have taken the unconscious into account than it ever has been before. It is the commonest argu- ment of the psychical researcher, that the informa-" tion which is gained by telepathy, or by any .form ; of spirit communication is much more remarkable than could possibly be subjectively guessed on the theory of probabilities. This information, he says, could not possibly have been guessed or divined or / otherwise subjectively evolved by the person into whose consciousness it comes. This impossibility would mean that all the combinations and permuta- tions of all former experiences, sensations, percep- tions, etc., on my part would never give me the ma- terial to make the combinations of ideas constitut- ing the message in question. Possibly not, if we take into account only those mental states of which we have been conscious from the date of our birth UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 239 onward. But when we consider the innumerable perceptions external and internal we have had dur- ing our entire lives of which we have not been con- scious, but which yet remain in the almost infinite storehouse of our individual unconscious, we shall clearly see that from the merely mathematical point of view of the theory of probabilities alone, the chances are at least tenfold greater that the mes- ^ge is but a message from our own unconscious to our conscious life, and that until this chance is absolutely removed by means of laboratory methods comprising the strictest scientific control, we shall not have fulfilled the most rigorous requirements of science. And it will be noted that in this book the dis- tinction is consistently made between what is sci- entifically known to be a fact and what is believed or (otherwise expressed only) desired or feared. The strictness of scientific proof requires us to ac- cept as fact not what has been only observed and testified to by witnesses under oath but what has been so described and formulated that any other person or persons can produce the same phenomena who has the same material. This requires us to preface all our inquiries by a consideration of two distinctions (1) that between belief and knowledge and (2) that between the two phases of conscious phenomena which Freud has discussed under the titles of reality principle and the pleasure-pain principle. As I purpose to take up the matter of belief and knowledge in a separate 240 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIEIT chapter (VII) I will here present that of Pleasure- Pain and Reality. According to the reality princi- ple all true scientific research proceeds, and I think I shall be able to show that all psychical research proceeds, upon the pleasure-pain principle. § 17. Pleasure-Pain vs. Reality Principle Briefly stated the pleasure-pain principle is that according to which all ideas occur to the mind when they are not regulated or controlled by the reality principle which is a much later evolution of the human intelligence. The latter, for example, changed astrology into astronomy and alchemy into chemistry, and is changing internal medicine into medical psychology. On the pleasure-pain princi- ple the idea comes into the mind that it would be good to have pleasant weather tomorrow; on the reality principle we realize tomorrow whether the skies are fair or not. On the pleasure-pain princi- ple the idea occVirs that it would be desirable if con- sciousness could survive death. On the reality principle we have yet to experience whether it . will or not. On the one we get the idea of what we would do if we had immense wealth; on the other it occurs to us to count our cash, live inside our incomes, save and invest. On the one we fall in love and extravagantly over-rate the good quali- ties of the loved one; on the reality principle we realize that all is not gold that glitters, and that he who expects little may get more than he expects but will probably not suffer from disappointment. UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 241 On the pleasure-pain principle the idea inevitably occurs to every child, and later is only partially re- pressed by the man or woman, that it would be a mark of enormous power to have an arm that could reach to the moon if necessary and could be ex- tended and contracted ad libitum, to control ex- ternal things by means of words alone, to have eyes that could see infinite distances and infinitely small objects, to have ears that could hear what was going on in any part of the world, and a mind that could understand the language of all animals, to have the physical strength of Hercules, the beauty of Venus, the courage of Mars, the cunning of Mercury, in short to be able to annihilate spacQ, time and the discrepancy between our real strength and that of any giant we could think of. In fact all the myths and fairy stories in the world of what- ^ ever origin in various races and tribes originate from mental activities working according to this pain-pleasure principle and represent the hero, / with whom the reader or listener subjectively iden- tifies himself, as one who avoids the pain of being weak, stupid and chained by time and space and custom, and gains the pleasure of being strong, cunning and freed from temporal, local and moral limitations. On this principle occur most of the phenomena of psychical research, not the facts proved by them to exist or not to exist, but the ideals and activities _ of the psychical researchers themselves. In fact the ideational content of the modern psychical phe- 242 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT nomena in the first sense constitutes the modern fairy story. Restricted by the modern formula- tions of the laws of nature inferred through in- ductive logic by physics, chemistry, astronomy and psychology the modern fairy story is deprived of its puissant heroes of olden lore, but the pleasure- / pain principle, being fundamental in the human psyche, still survives and expresses itself in the levi- tation, telepathy and materialization which are only new names for old things, believed in as were the exploits of the heroes of Greek or Scandinavian myth. It is inevitable that as long as humans are humans and swayed by unconscious wishes there will be expressions of the pleasure-pain principle. That these have taken a scientific colour is due to the growth during the centuries of the reality prin- ciple which infers causes and principles from sci- entifically observed phenomena. Incidentally it might be mentioned that the psy- chical researchers have a scientific program which they follow and they protest first and last that they value nothing more than the truth. They have ex- posed many frauds and have been most painstaking as the copious proceedings of the societies amply demonstrate. Indeed there is nothing in the orig- inal constitution of these societies that savours in the least of the operation of the pleasure-pain prin- ciple but shows only the reality principle at work. / ' But the interpretations put upon the facts which they have demonstrated show the effect of the other principle. UNCONSCIOUS EMOTIONS AND WILL 243 What I have said above indicates that the pleas- ure-pain principle is largely expressed in the desire for the magnification of the ego. The chief pain of the ego is to be curtailed, constrained or limited, as indeed our physical substrate is developed on the principle of growth and expansion. The funda- mental pleasure of the ego is its extension. Keeping in mind therefore the difference between the reality feeling, which is an internal sensation, and the principle of reality thinking, which is a mental process of a higher order, necessitating the perception of the relations of things to things and of things to sensations; and keeping in mind also the difference between the various sensations and images on the one hand and the pleasure-pain prin- ciple on the other, which is that principle on which the images naturally occur to the conscious mind or are repressed into the unconscious, and which has to be utterly rejected by any one in doing strictly scientific work, we shall be in a much better posi- tion to judge of the scientific or unscientific quality of the phenomena offered by the spiritists. Maeterlinck ( Unknown Guest, page 111 ) well ex- presses the attitude of mind dominated by the I)leasure-pain principle in saying : " We can con- test or suspect any story whatever, any written proof, any evidence; but thenceforward we must abandon all certainty or knowledge that is not ac- quired by means of mathematical operations or lab- oratory experiments, that is to say, three-fourths of the human phenomena which interest us most." 241 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT This certainly implies that we have a right to be- lieve what interests us, but not to claim that it is scientifically proven. Science has to abandon all so-called certainty or knowledge not acquired by mathematical operations or laboratory experi- ments, and brand it neither certainty nor knowl- edge. According to the reality principle we try to as- certain what things are and if possible why they are, without the slightest thought concerning what we would like to have them be, or become. This is the conscious program of the psychical researcher, but his unconscious program is quite different, based upon the pain-pleasure principle and forti- fied solely by the reslitj^eUnc[^aH I purpose to show in the following chapters. PART III THE UNCONSCIOUS SPIEIT CHAPTER VII BELIEF BEFORE KNOWLEDGE In the spiritistic seance and in all study by psychical researchers of the phenomena of spirit- ism, the process is quite similar to that which I have described in Chapter V as taking i3lace in the effort to recall a name. The person who is doing that is looking for only one thing — the name — and is excluding as well as he can from conscious- ness every other image and every other name that is unable to satisfy his feeling of sameness. The spiritualist is necessarily doing a quite analogous thing. With a stencil which he cannot see in his mind, he is rejecting every other thought or im- pression that occurs to him. The invisible stencil is the idea of the continuance of conscious person- ality or of a fact contradictory to nature's laws as now known and it is no wonder if he finds some- thing to fill the vacuum of that stencil. On the con- trary the modern scientist takes to nature no such preconceived stencil shape but tries to find the uni- form and universal principles that govern natural phenomena. § 1. Belief Belief is the conscious expression of an uncon- scious wish. The unconscious wish of the individ- ual is for self-aggrandizement in all forms. One 247 248 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT of the greatest of all the forms of human activity is that of the seer, who is one who can persuade his fellows that he can not only see but hear, or in other senses perceive, more than they. In all ages and in all grades of society the seer has been ac- cepted as one whose subjective ego has been most extensive, just as the hero in the shape of king or general has most enlarged his objective ego. I use the terms subjective and objective ego here in the senses used by William James in his psy- chology. The objective ego is every concrete thing that belongs to the individual, together with the fields of his external activity and all the parapher- nalia connected with them, his land, his house, his family, his horses, yachts, automobiles, golf and other equipment, his clubs, his business offices, in short everything over which he has special rights and control. His subjective ego is his mind, both his conscious and his unconscious mind, his sensa- tions, perceptions, thoughts, emotions and mem- ories, both buried and active. The medium has become in our day a seer, one whose subjective ego has enlarged itself beyond the bounds of the ordinary man, and he is worshipped in the modern manner by all who feel the need for hero worship — of the subjective sort. § 2. Fear of Death Applying this thought to the matter of spiritism we see that biologically there should be in the healthy animal no concern for the continuance of BELIEF BEFORE KNOWLEDGE 249 his corporate consciousness, the desire for it being a matter of internal situation in himself and being the obverse* of his fear that it may not continue, for we never fear what we do not desire. We always consciously fear what we unconsciously desire and we consciously desire, in many instances, what we unconsciously fear. In the healthy human, abso- lutely normal and unimpaired in any way, the thought cannot spontaneously occur of the dissolu- tion of his personality nor the fear of it nor the wish for its continued integrity unless suggested to him verbally by some one who has, or has had, such a fear. The fear of death is the natural and un-" . conscious result of the subliminal perception of some incipient disintegration in the body, or weak- / ening of some of the functions. The fear of death is the effect of advancing age, as is its conscious ob- verse, the desire to die. It is true enough that young people both fear death and commit suicide but their acts, if taken as the result of their total internal situation are always abnormal and their fears are implanted from without on a soil already deteriorating because of congenital weakness. Thus from another angle we see the abnormality of the deep interest in spirits displayed by some peo- ple. If I were much worried about what would be- come of my ego after my body^s functions all ceased for ever, I should be most active in trying to find a means to prove my continued existence as a spirit after I ceased to exist as an organic body. Perhaps I should not call the interest in spirits an abnormal- 250 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT ity in old people. It may be normal in them just as the preponderant interest in bodies is normal in young people. But when young people display a more than verbal interest in spiritistic phenomena there is an indication that their love-life is strain- ing after symbols in the place of direct realities, which they are denied by fate. It is interesting to note that the committee ap- pointed by the Lambeth Conference of Bishops in 1920 in London " deprecate popular interest in this whole realm and emphasize the dangers to mental health and peace which such interest threatens." The thoroughly absorbed psychical researcher, therefore, manifests traits of the neurotic disposi- tion. He is dominated by the death-wish complex. His utterances, like those of the medium, should, in order to assay them for their true value, have the dross of the unconscious element smelted out of them. For the manifestations of the unconscious are to science, but dross, slag, and sludge, no mat- ter how fine gold they may be for the artistic mental activities. The phantastic wish imaging of the undirected unconscious is exactly what the sci- entific man wishes to get rid of. Like the metal- lurgist his aim is definite and his results tangible and pragmatic. He may yet come to analysis of the dross of thought, has indeed been forced to it in the study of mental disorders, but it is for him exactly on a par with his other objective material. That is, it is his field of study. But it is fully BELIEF BEFORE KNOWLEDGE 251 known to Mm what he is studying and for what purpose he is studying it. But for the neurotic to take seriously the mental states in which he finds himself with regard to " spirit '' and to attempt to force science to accept these phantasies as truths of the same importance as the laws of gravitation, of chemical affinity and of relativity is much like a child's asking an adult to accept his words about Mother Goose or Santa Glaus as scientific truth and incorporating them in the principles of physics and chemistry. The neurotic is one whose psychical development, not his intellectual, has been arrested at an in- fantile stage. Much of his unhappiness comes from his over-estimation of the effect his wishes are sup- posed to have upon the world of external reality. The psychical researcher is in many respects at- tempting to fit fairy tales into the precession of the equinoxes and becoming a bit excited about the un- willingness of astronomers to accept his reconstruc- tion. § 3. Contimwusness of Urge From the impellent, the ever-driving-on, nature of the unconscious it is evident that it knows of no cessation, nor has there ever been found any rea- son for the ceasing of its activity during the integ- rity of the physical organism which is its material expression. As fire burns while fuel lasts and is within its reach, so does the unconscious ever strive. 252 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT r i The idea of termination is a characteristic of con- \ sciousness itself. Visually we consciously see the ends of things, of sticks, of ropes, of lines, of sur- faces, we see where a thing is and where it is not. Our consciousness of one thing ends and that of an- other begins almost every second. And consciously we realize when our consciousness begins each day and generally where it ends each night. Therefore the idea of death is a conscious idea emanating from consciousness itself. Against the interrupted na- ture of conscious life, with its transitions from one sense quality to another, each one a break, an end- ing of one experience and a beginning of another, we have as a background the constant pull of the unconscious craving, the buoyant upward pressure as of water rising to its level, or as of gases with their constant tendency to expand. Contrasting with the flickering of the taper of consciousness, changing the colour of its light many times a minute with the transition from sight to sound, to touch, to organic sense, is the uniform brilliance of the light of the unconscious craving. It is no wonder then that the question of the im- mortality of the soul spontaneously occurs to con- sciousness, which perceives its every sensation terminating after brief duration. It is not a ques- tion w^hich would occur to anything like the uncon- scious, that itself felt no change. And conscious- ness borne along, an agitated craft upon the rough surface, has no share in the tranquillity of the depth of the stream. The merest BELIEF BEFORE KNOWLEDGE 253 shallow speculation upon the transitoriness of the conscious life will at once reveal its many breaks, its cra^y -patch-work quality when com-\ pared with the infinite calm, and reposeful infinity / of the actual feeling of life and growth within. So we have here one of the strongest motives for a belief in the continuance of a personal conscious- ness after death. It is born of the even and un- ruffled drive of life in the vital organs themselves, as, in Greek mythology. Aphrodite was fabled to have been born of the foam of the sea waves. The unconscious cannot conceive of its end, but can only feel its own perpetual expansion. The con- trast between the unconscious feeling of being and the conscious sensation of ever changing, becoming and ending would alone account for the desire to continue conscious life and, its obverse, the fear of the discontinuance of states of consciousness. And it is but a step from the separate existence of the conscious life after death to the separate existence of consciousness during life, just as the savage or the child when dreaming, thinks he is in another place than where his body is. And, the dream, whether in the night or in the da}^, has this characteristic that it presents the dreamer with an apparent power over space. The savage dreams of killing game in a country new and strange and with powers of his own greater than he has experienced in waking life. Similarly the medium's communications with spirits are an ex- tension of power greater than ordinary in the 254 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT average waking existence. The same desire is gratified by people who see or think they sec* the spirits of the departed as is gratified by the ex- tension or expansion of any physical tissue or organ. Power is felt by the medium in his trances. And his spectators and auditors feel, themselves, a vicarious power in the medium's acts and utterances. It is no wonder that both mediums and their adherents fancy they feel an actual physical force manifested at the seances, f which they attribute to a supernatural source, •^ which only means a source not recognized by the most rigorous physical science. The motive for a belief in perpetuation of per- sonal identity is a necessary consequence of the force of the unconscious vegetative life within us. Its cessation is unthinkable to the unconscious itself, which is incessant in its activity, integrat- ing sensations into perceptions absolutely inde- pendently of the existence of the stream of con- scious thought which is as but passing shadows on a screen. Now, given an ego made up of the abso- lutely regular and ceaseless vital urge of the uncon- scious and the flickeringly irregular and con- stantly terminating surface activity of conscious- ness, the contrast between the two could not but generate the wish for perpetuity, not of the unconscious, an idea which could not be born in the unconscious, but a wish for the perpetuity of conscious life. A wish is always for that which is not. We cannot wish to be what we are, for we BELIEF BEFORE KNOWLEDGE 255 are what we are. We can say we wish to be in the future what we now are in the present, but no such wish could be made except from the fear that in the future we shall not be as we are now. Freud has amply demonstrated that the uncon- scious has no sense of time, no past, no future, but only an ever permanent present. Therefore the sense of force or power or progress or movement or constant regular drive within us generates in con- sciousness a wish for permanence when the latter, with its ever ending, constantly terminating experiences is confronted with the cosmic flow of life in the Unconscious. Not until the uncon- scious drive emerges into the surface welter of conscious life does it become a wish, because, be- fore it came into the light of consciousness it could not, so to speak, see that anything ever ended. And as there are all degrees in definiteness of concept between the amorphous and perduring present of the deepest unconscious vital urge, and the vacillating and unsteady past and future of the transitory consciousness, so we can conceive the transformations of the urge into a more defi- nite but still unfixed and fluent desire and finally into a finished and finite wish having a visual or an auditory or tactual or even organic specific content. The urge is for perpetual expression of power, the desire is for long undulations of tension and relaxation, and the wish is for the specific and fi56 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT definite contact of an end organ of sensation with a particular stimulus or type of stimulus, or for what in more subjective spheres corresponds to these. § 4. Verbal Expression On the part of every one there is the strongest possible objection to taking back or recanting what he has already stated. There are two reasons for this, the first being that his original statement was prompted by his unconscious wish and has behind it all the force of the unconscious and the second that the recantation is opposed by the same trend that caused the first statement. Therefore a man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still. I have mentioned elsewhere the fact that all statements, being the expression of judgments, are the verbal expression of the unconscious wish; in other words we naturally say that something is so merely because we wish it were so (whether it is or not). We express things positively in most instances in indicative moods of the verb, whereas if we were telling the objective truth we should use our verbs in the subjunctive, potential, or optative mood representing things as pro- posed, desired or conceived of as possible. While I am on the topic of verbal expression I should call to the reader's attention the fact that there does not need to be a verb in order to indi- cate a complete thought. Just as a shout " Fire ! " BELIEF BEFORE KNOWLEDGE 257 indicates that some one thinks a dangerous fire has started, so any noun uttered by a person may indl catey though it does not fully express, a degree of desire or aversion, from " Water '' said in appeal- ing tone meaning " I am very thirsty " to " Rub- bish ! '' " Fudge ! " or other contemptuous expres- sion which may " speak volumes." It is incon- ceivable that with every declaration in full grammatical sentence form there does not go un- derstood what might, using a mathematical term, be called an " exponent of desire." Then in the most positive statement made by any man we should expect the largest exponent of desire (or fear or aversion according to his emotional tone). With every declaration in words whether single nouns like those quoted above or phrases or sentences there manifestly goes along an accompaniment of desire concerning the matter-of-fact truth of it. My contention here is that in the verbal expres- sions of most people this emotional accompaniment is the efficient cause of the statement being made, and is not merely a subordinate affair. Psycholog- ically it is the whole show. This need not have anything to do with the real truth or falsity of the statement. Children's " lies " are all tvish. Quite transparently they say what they do just because they wish what they say were, or would become, true. With the fewest exceptions, the same emotional colouring must be attributed to all statements made by all people. The statements made by the 258 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT book agent, the insurance agent or any one who has anything to sell are unquestionably coloured by the emotions of the speaker, desire to sell, fear of being unable to sell, or to persuade the prospect. It is interesting to note in this connection the derivation of this word persuade. It is derived from the Latin adjective suavis which means " sweet, bland, pleasant." The verb derived from it therefore (suadere) means practically to sweeten anything (mostly a judgment) for a person, and the force of the per is " thoroughly, com- pletely '^ so that per-suade then always has had historically the radical meaning of successfully rendering a proposition sweet, 1. e., acceptable to any one. The unconscious mechanism of identification works in the mind of the hearer with the effect of tending to make him always identify himself with the speaker. The hearer not only unconsciously tends to reproduce in himself, that is, to imitate the postural tonus (see Chapter VI, sec. 2) but also to imitate him in matters more markedly mental, i. e., to identify himself with the speaker. And particularly is this the case with all state- ments in which there is an especially strong emo- tional factor. Indeed the emotions expansive and indefinite themselves are always struggling for con- centration and definiteness of expression, and the skilful orator is he who can align and train the emotions of his hearers toward a definite concept. Not only the orator but the actor, who is helped BELIEF BEFORE KNOWLEDGE 259 by scenery and costume, both potent marshals of unconscious emotions, is able to bring the feelings of his audience to a point so to speak where they fire the whole organism to action. The stage actor thus produces in the audience the clapping of hands and on extreme occasions the throwing of bouquets, etc. The spiritualistic seance actor pro- duces in his audience the wagging of tongues. I am sure that the manual plaudits of the theatre are in the majority of cases the only result of the actor's efforts, that the making of statements by the emotions of the sitters has been so far the only practical result of the trances of the medium. § 5. Belief and Wish The belief in disembodied spirits is the direct result of the unconscious death-wish on the part of the individual having this belief. Previous to say- ing how this death-wish causes the conscious belief in the opposite of death, it will be necessary to say something about the idea of death itself existing in the unconscious of the persons most interested in proving immortality. The wish for the death of some definite person which is unconscious in the mind of the adult was a conscious wish in the mind of the same adult when he was a child. But it is not to be supposed that this wish was for actual demise and decomposition of the temporarily hated opponent. It was merely in the child's mind a conscious wish for the removal out of sight or sound or other sensation and was exactly on a par 260 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT with the desire for the removal of any other unde- sired object, not necessarily involving the destruc- tion of the object. In other words psychical removal is desired, not physical removal. Now in the case of the removal of the object, when that object is a person, we see not merely that it is not literally death that is wished in most cases, but it is only a temporary removal that is wanted, and presently comes the wish for the reap- pearance of the person just wished dead. The whole thing is an absolutely childish mental mech- anism, depending on the child's belief in the omnipotence of the wish. § 6. Sadistic Wish Another infantile mental trend however appears in the fabric of this immortality wish namely the sadistic-masochistic trend according to Avhich the child takes pleasure in paiQ, either in inflicting it (sadism) or in having it inflicted upon him (masochism). His sadistic trend, if carried out, would lead him to torture and kill the persons an- tagonizing him. But these desires are early re- pressed into the unconscious through the agency of conventional civilization. When any desire is repressed into the uncon- scious it becomes a tension which is not relaxed but is constantly seeking relaxation, and it is bound to get relaxation either in the form originally imaged or in some form symbolic of, or otherwise represen- tative of, the original wish form. BELIEF BEFORE KNOWLEDGE 261 The way in wliicli the sadistic death-wish tension is relaxed is through the compensatory wish for the continuance of the life of the person wished, dead. Most individuals are adult enough in intelligence and the sense of reality to know that the dead do not come back in their own proper physical bodies. But the principle of compensation absolutely re- quires, as eye for eye and tooth for tooth, that the life taken away shall be given back in some form. As the adult's sense of reality is too keen to accept the supposition that the dead can be made to live again as they were, they must be made to live in some other way after death. Hence the spirit world, which is the objectification of the sadistic death-wish in the unconscious of the believer in spirits, and which is nothing else, having no foun- dation in absolute reality. This then is the explanation of the activities of the believers in spirit existence, and the stronger the unconscious sadism the profounder the belief and in some cases the more energetic the attempts to prove scientifically the existence of something that scientifically cannot be even conceived. The shape the unconscious death-wish has in the unconscious mind of the ardent advocate of spirit- ism is not that of the sentence " I wish F. were dead " but that of the sentence " F. is dead." And the necessary and inevitable conscious reaction to this unconscious state " F. is dead " is the belief " F. is living." But as even the simplest minded can see that F. is not living corporeally, the only 262 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT choice left is that he is living incorporeallj, i. e., as a spirit. And the stronger and more repeatedly iterated the unconscious state " F. is dead," the stronger is the conscious belief " F. is living " utterly regardless of fact. Indeed, other things being equal, the strength of the belief in spirits is directly proportional to the strength of the uncon- scious death-wish. Compensating for the psychic removal mentioned above, we now have the desire for the psychic restoration. The death-wish is by the very young child directed against any and every body and thing that interferes with his pleasure. The wish is equally directed against those who give him pain. We thus clearly see the derivation of this wish from the pleasure-pain principle of thinking. The sphere of pleasures and pains recognizably coming from persons and not things in the infants' world gradually widens approaching as its limit the entire universe. But those having most to do with the infant are the ones likely both to give the greatest pleasure and inflict the greatest pains. Life is made up of both, and where there is the most life, there will be most of both pain and pleasure. The inf ant V life, as far as persons are concerned is composed almost exclusively of mother and father and nurse^and brothers and sisters. Is is there- fore not surprising on the one hand that they should most often be the objects of the infantile death-wish, and, on the other, that they should be the very ones about whose survival after death there BELIEF BEFORE KNOWLEDGE 2G3 should in the average individuaFs mind be the most concern. § 7. Spiritism and War There is, therefore, a connection between spirit- ism and war, history showing that after the swing- ing of the pendulum to the crassly material before or during a war there is a general swing toward the other direction of an excessive spiritual view after the war. So it has occurred during and after the late European conflict, the spiritual phenomena appearing not only during the war on account of the speedy satisfaction of the unconscious craving for excitement on the part of non-combatants and those invalided out of it, but also appearing after the war in a popular interest in things spiritual. This is contributed to, of course, but not caused by, the large number of deaths of those actively participating in the struggle. The sudden bereave- ments occasion but do not cause a recrudescence of the unconscious wish for self-preservation, and the neurotic part of humanity exhausts all its resources in trying to find logical reasons to prove that it has in these times the strongest motives for desir- ing to prove. Of this the book Roland is an indi- cation entirely apart from any scientific validity which the statements made in it may, or may not have. From every side the facts point to the preponder- ant if not exclusive role played in spiritistic phe- nomena by the very fact of belief. Human think- 264 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT Ing universally proceeds according to the program of believing first and trying to prove afterwards. This is the pain-pleasure principle referred to above, and quite independently of it and frequently absolutely antagonistic to it there develops quietly, slowly and surely the reality principle, which sees actual relations of things to each other, and does not merely see the relation of things to self and to the unconscious cravings of the ego. Thus it is the relations of things to each other which is the subject matter of all science, of astron- omy, of chemistry, of physics, of modern analytical psychology, while it is the relations of the things of the external world to the ego which constitutes the subject matter of art, music, poetry and all branches of human activity where the emotions enter in as an important factor. All these take their values from the emotional factor, whether it be conscious or unconscious, but largely from the latter because of its far greater richness and primi- tive power. * CHAPTER VIII KNOWLEDGE ABOVE BELIEF § 1. Ambivalence The ancient Greek myths mentioned in Chapter V, those of Niobe, Arachne, and Salmoneus who were punished by the gods for over much pride and self-aggrandizement are the working out of an idea into externality — giving concrete form to it — an idea that is founded upon the physical fact that existence is the result of opposing forces. The solidest marble is conceived as the result of the interplay of atoms in reciprocating motion of infinite rapidity. The position of any living animal is the net result of the contractions of his antagonistic muscles, which are in pairs all over his body. Suddenly paralyse one of any of these pairs and the other of them will contract still more until compensation is otherwise made. In our mind there is the same balance main- tained by opposing ideas, or the ideas are our con- sciousness of presence or lack of the balance of certain minute antagonistic muscles situated somewhere in our body. In the myth of Niobe, and in the proverb " Pride goeth before a fall " there is the recognition of the same antagonism. In the internal sensations called emotions there is inev- itably a reaction. If we become hilarious, we 265 266 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIEIT actually get tired of being hilarious and presently become serious. Applied to the emotions this action and reaction rhythm is called ambivalence. It is as character- istic of the emotional life as it is of the muscles of the athlete or of the molecules of marble in the statue of the athlete. But it is not enough to say that emotions succeed each other in consciousness rhythmically chang- ing from grave to gay, from fear to courage, from love to hate. That is merely describing what ap- pears on the surface. The succession of emotions manifest to consciousness is determined in every case by tensions in the unconscious with which the conscious emotions, moods, etc., are more closely connected than they are with each other. § 2. Mental Microscope The intimate construction of many material things is made visible by looking at them through a microscope. In psychological analysis we have such a microscope. The same result would be at- tained if we could magically enlarge the object we wished to see. If we could dip a fly into a magic liquid that would increase each particle of him so that the whole of him would be as large as an elephant, we could look at him with the naked eye and learn as much or more of his structure as we now do by means of the microscope. It is just a question of relative dimensions between him and us. KNOWLEDGE ABOVE BELIEF 267 There is a similar enlargement naturally taking place in the minds of certain people. We call these people abnormal but the enlargement takes place according to absolutely regular natural laws. W^e can in such people see, if we look, the ideas of one thing and another, and their emotions and the connections between emotions and ideas. They have been enlarged to the scale necessary to be observed by human eyes that can see. For these enlarged mental states we need no microscope; we need only the reality principle working in our minds to show us the actual relations between ideas and emotions and things, . relations we ought to know so as to be able to act more intelligently toward our fellow^s, but which we are only begin- ning to know. It is as if Nature had herself gratui- tously, and without any making or arranging of lenses on our part, enlarged some mental fly so that any one with the right attitude toward life could see the structure of his human mind, and make the logical inference about the minds of others. The people whose mind-states are thus naturally enlarged are called neurotics. In the past they were called abnormal, but we know that there is nothing abnormal about them except their over- size ideas. The scientific study of these over-size ideas has given us the deepest knowledge we ever had about the structure and functions of the mind. The magic liquid in which we jjroposed to soak our illustrative fly is not needed here, for the fly has himself expanded, as, to our view, expands the on- 2G8 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT coming vessel in the harbour till it reaches the dock and we can board and examine it. The neurosis is the magic liquid which exagger- ates the size of certain things, and the neurotic, for our present purposes of comparison, is merely one who shows a " close-up " of a normal soul in opera- tion. His ability to get nearer to us so that we can see him is his only peculiarity.^ But we have always pushed him away whenever he has come nearer until Freud indicated the way to study him by means of looking at the shadows, as it were, or less illuminated portions, of this nearby view. y § 3. The Neurotic All this by way of introduction to the account of what the neurosis has shown us about the working of the ordinary unmagnified mind. There is a type of neurotic the main lineaments of whose '' close-up '' mental picture are the tendencies which he shows to do certain things without defi- nitely knowing why he does them. Asked why he does them he may give no answer or may say he does not know. He does know that he feels un- comfortable or unhappy if he does not do them. This also might be said of many habits in ordinary peofjle, like smoking for instance, and many peculiar mannerisms of posture, action and voice. To explain them as merely habit is however to give no real explanation, which indeed lies in the un- conscious wish behind these actions. 1 Cp. the words of Frank, Chap. V. KNOWLEDGE ABOVE BELIEF 269 The neurotic, however, of the type I am describ- ing feels a much more compulsive tendency to carry out his actions and the actions themselves are likely to be more peculiar than those generally known as habits. They are habits, but they are eccentric habits and moreover they are habits not of body primarily but of mind. Examples of these habits are infinitely various from washing the hands every time the neurotic touches any particular thing, which itself is eccen- trically picked out for this special reaction, to a necessity felt for counting one class of objects or another, or balancing fortunate happenings with misfortunes in the daily paper. The classical illustration is the compulsion not to touch certain objects.^ Nothing definite was known about the cause of this compulsion until hypnosis was used, and the patient then remem- bered what it was that one time when a child he had very much desired to touch and had been for- bidden. The prohibition later was forgotten. All the patient consciously knew was, not that he had been told not to touch the object in question (a part of himself), but, that he had the strongest possible aversion to touching it. Consciously it gave him much displeasure if he had to touch it. In the hypnosis it was revealed that formerly it gave him the keenest pleasure to touch that part of himself. So it is shown that the unconscious motive that impelled him to touch was the pleas- 1 Freud: Totem and Taboo, page 48. 270 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT ure he received from the act. Also what caused him to stop touching it was a greater pleasure coming from pleasing the person, his father, who told him not to touch. The pleasure or satisfac- tion of not touching remained in consciousness, and the other pleasure was forgotten. But the unconscious motive still remained, and was the motive power for the compulsion. So it may be said of this person that uncon- sciously he still strongly desires to touch while consciously he has the strongest aversion to touch- ing this part of himself, an aversion as strong as is the unconscious desire. We may say that this patient at one and the same time both wants, and does not want, to touch. This strong antagonism between motives and the emotions behind them is the ambivalence mentioned above. In no sense could it be called abnormal, being the absolutely necessary result of the desire coming from within and the prohibition imposed from without. And not only neurotics but also completely normal aver- age individuals can find examples in their own lives of this emotional ambivalence. It is the effect of contrary pulls from within and without, and in- evitably produces its perfectly natural result. Only in the neurotic the result is magnified so that it can easily be seen, while in the average individual it is generally unnoticeable unless specially looked for. The importance of this detailed study of the ambivalence of the emotions of the neurotic is that KNOWLEDGE ABOVE BELIEF 271 it shows exactly what takes place in normal life among primitive peoples with regard to their actions toward their parents and ultimately toward their ancestors. And it furnishes thus a very clear idea of how religions have always arisen in all races. § 4. The Normal Compulsion The greatest pleasure to the ego of the primitive man, is to be the strongest, which includes the death or banishment of all the other men of the group whatever the group — family or tribe — may be. Whatever prohibition may come from with- out to the men of su-ch a^group, the earliest example of it being the iamily, would come only as a pro- hibition against doing what was very much desired. In fact no restriotions or restrictive laws are ever made against any action that is not much desired. Before going on with this topic I shall stop long enough to remark that the making of the prohibi- tion itself is the work of the unconscious desire on the part of the maker of the prohibition to do the prohibited thing. Furthermore, the vigour with which any infringement of this law is punished is determined by the strength of the desire on the part of the persons punishing to do the same thing. § 5. The Taboo The ambivalence of emotion shown by the com- pulsion neurotic is found to be closely paralleled by the actions of many primitive peoples with re- gard to certain things. The word taboo which has 272 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIKIT recently come into all civilized languages from the Pacific Islands expresses that group of actions. According to the taboo, a man may not do this or that, a more or less elaborate code of action vary- ing somewhat in different races of primitive peo- ples. The striking peculiarity of all the taboos is their apparent unreason and unaccountability. The savages themselves have no more coherent reason to assign for what they do than has the com- pulsion neurotic for his eccentricities. No light could be thrown on the actions of primitive man under the taboo regulations until the unconscious wish was taken into account. Another striking fact of primitive social life is the totem and the effect it has upon the conduct of the tribe on the one hand and the biological status of the tribe on the other. On the face of it the totem is a plant or animal with which the mem- bers of the totem group identify themselves, with the result that they thus compel themselves not to kill or mate with any one of the same totem group. Furthermore, also an important point, they identify themselves with the totem to the extent of believ- ing that they are descendants of it. Thus there results a social mechanism preventing inbreeding. How it originated was a matter of doubt and specu- lation until Freud's explanation of the unconscious motivation of it. For he has shown that the prohibitions con- nected with the totem are against the fundamental desire on the part of the unconscious of all peo- KNOWLEDGE ABOVE BELIEF 273 pies to do the very thing this particular taboo pro- hibited, namely the mating with the nearest female, which in the family or totem group would naturally be the nearest relatives. This is also related to the descent of the tribe from the totem animal or plant, if we reflect that the very thing that is pro- hibited, namely the mating with women within the totem group is exactly what is on the one hand most desired by the young males of that group and what is most decidedly not wished by the head of the group who is most identified with the totem and is in a sense the representative of the father. This prohibition drives the young males to seek mates from other groups and the biological require- ment of cross fertilization is fulfilled. § 6. The Totem From this very brief explanation of what is in reality a much more complicated matter we come to the consideration of the evident derivation of spirits from the projection of the father idea into the totem. The father or head of the totem group is naturally the chief enemy of the young males from the point of view of their desires to mate with their own totem-group women. He is the chief factor in their inability to do so. So he received an amount of hatred from the young, which is either conscious or repressed into the unconscious, according to the state of civilization of the group. In modern civilized society the unconscious antag- onism between father and sons in their rivalry for 274 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT the attention and affection of the wife and mother, is generally a wholly unconscious affair, but yet it explains many otherwise inexplicable actions on the part of both father and sons. Generally, too, and under the influence of most religions, there is even a good bit of affection and reverence felt by the sons for the father. His superiority in age and attainments and social position sometimes indeed compel the admiration of his sons. But the effect of this unconscious hatred of father and sons is to produce in the sons consciously or unconsciously, as the case may be according to civilization, a strong feeling of joy when the father dies. Now this feeling of joy is balanced by a real sense of loss and a regret for the hatred that has been ex- pended upon the father. So that there are present the motives both for exalting the good qualities of the father and fearing and propitiating him in his hostile aspect. It is virtually this hostility of his sons that deifies him in their eyes and not the friendly feelings, paradoxical though this may at first appear. His greatest strength with them is as their enemy, for his tenure is dependent on his ability to overcome them either physically or mentally. Therefore the power and the glory which is attributed to their father when he is in their heaven is the association of a feeling of reality in themselves with the idea or mental image, not his actual presence, naturally, as he is dead. And this linking of a feeling of reality with something no longer existing is the KNOWLEDGE ABOVE BELIEF 275 cause of all belief in spirits from the earliest pre- historic times to the present day. This recoupling of the reality feeling with an idea or image is no rarity at any time, particularly after the reality feeling has of necessity been uncoupled from its former associates, the actual visual and other sense qualities of the living ancestor. And the belief that he is now a spirit is reinforced by a belief that spirits are more powerful than and can do much harm to the living. § 7. ^^ Spirit '^ a Projection This projection of the unconscious wish, to maintain existence after death, into the hyposta- tization of a spirit is at the bottom of all religions, both the most ancient animistic and anthropomor- phic and the most modern, the spiritistic. In all races and nations the father becomes a deity, or the deity takes on the paternalistic form, and men consciously believe, because they unconsciously wish, that they too, when their time comes to die, may yet live like the ancestor, whom they have given a spiritual life, in order on the one hand to propitiate him and on the other to recompense him for the hatred with which he was regarded during his life, and substitute in their own life a pleasant affection for the unpleasant hate. It is thus evident that the projection of an in- ternal sensation upon the external world is the origin both of the compulsion neurosis in the in- dividual and the religion of a people or a race. It 276 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT is all the more imperative, therefore, that any statement claimed to be scientific, about the exist- ence of a disembodied intelligence be with the greatest care examined as to its origin. The history of science has plenty of examples of the reality principle being overcome by the pleas- ure principle of thinking. The latter furnishes the impediment to the instant acceptance of any scien- tific truth, and has, from Galileo's time until the present day. As an example of this we may men- tion the survival for so long a time of Lamarckian- ism in the theory of evolution in spite of the ac- cumulating proofs that the innate constitution of the germ plasm is the medium of heredity and that no characteristics acquired in adulthood can have an effect upon the genes or subgenes of the chromosomes. The projection of internal sensations upon the external world is attributing to the world qualities inherent only in the person doing the attributing. It is belief and not fact, scientific fact being a mat- ter in which the internal sensations are in no way concerned. The evidence of the senses is worth- less for science. The very fact that there are such things as hallucinations is sufficient proof of this. That there are visual mental images sometimes associated with quite as strong a feeling of reality as are actual visual impressions generally, should make ridiculous the idea of offering as scientific proof of disembodied intelligences any statement based on the " evidence of the senses.'' It should KNOWLEDGE ABOVE BELIEF 277 at once call for the complete exclusion of the human element from all experimentation with the end in view of showing personality existing apart from the body. ^But in spite of the manifest neces- sity of excluding human error the so-called proofs of existence of spirit have been almost without ex- ception presented in a form where not only is the human element present but also the unconscious element is paramount, that factor which the spirit- ists have never yet analysed with the thoroughness that the psychoanalysts have evinced in their really scientific study/ For, as has been mentioned else- where, a scientific truth is never a presentation (sensation or impression or feeling) but is a uni- formly observed relation hetiveen presentations, either a quantitative or a qualitative relation, such as are the facts on which chemistry and physics are based. The present day motives for a belief in spirits are not adequately accounted for without tracing this connection with the motives which must have been the unconscious ones on the part of primitive man in his development of the philosophic system known as animism. In his Totem and Tahoo (p. 154, N. Y. 1918) Freud puts the question: "What essential part of our psychological structure is reflected and re- viewed in the projection formation of souls and spirits? " and answers it as follows : " The thing which we, just like primitive man, project into outer reality, can hardly be anything else than the 278 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT recognition of a state in which a given thing is present to the senses and to consciousness, next to which another state exists in which the thing is latent but can reappear, that is to say, the coexis- tence of perception and memory, or, to generalize it, the existence of unconscious psychic processes next to conscious ones. It might be said that in the last analysis the spirit of a person or a thing is the faculty of remembering and representing the object after he or it was withdrawn from con- scious perception." If society attempts to wipe out but really only represses extensive areas of the mating or parental instinct, what aim or purpose of society's is thereby striven toward? It must not be supposed that be- fore the present century, society has been conscious of any specific aim. Society as a conscious indi- vidual is conceivable, but the concept is irrelevant in the present discussion. The conscious indi- vidual may also be regarded as an organism of separately existing elements more or less as a nation is organized into a unit by the compelling personality of one of its individual members, or as a large commercial organization is dominated by a Rockefeller or a Vail. There are people who are as well integrated as any huge business corpora- tion and others as ill as some " general stores " in rural districts. A separate human individual may be conceived as consisting of a combination or assemblage of two or more unitarily functioning constituents. KNOWLEDGE ABOVE BELIEF 279 The body is composed of various " systems " that are named according to the unities that they ap- parently comprise. There is the nervous system and the circulatory system, the alimentary and the lymphatic system, and within these the arterial, the gastric, enteric, etc., the body being made up of various organs each one of which is practically a unity by itself and yet has an essential interde- pendence upon some other or others. In fact it is almost impossible to decide where one begins and the other leaves off, and the fact that not one of these organs could function outside of the body, would make it seem impossible that it could be called a separate organ, in spite of the fact that hearts have been kept beating and kidneys capable of functioning in foreign receptacles for weeks. The idea that the individual human is an individual in the sense of being able to maintain a separate existence is only relative. If he were taken out of all mundane relations he would not live, and if he is removed from social relations only, in such a way that he could not ideally reproduce remembered social relations, such as was the history of persons like Caspar Hauser, he will cease to be, or will never be, human. § 8. Repression of Mating Instinct But when we talk of society repressing a natural instinct we are in general really talking about no more conscious process than there is in the growth ,of a tree, until we begin to realize that in this, the 280 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT twentieth century, there are elements of activity in operation that are analogous to the mental activity of individuals. It is true enough that, in the past, groups of individuals have acted with apparent unity of pur- pose, and with a purpose that seemed to visualize so clearly the end achieved that one is impressed with the wonder of it. For example, the various means which savage tribes have adopted to secure cross fertilization and prevent inbreeding show an integrated activity characterizing the group, resulting in certain taboos, thus preventing the " marriage " of closely related persons. It is not to be supposed, however, that cross fertilization was in any way maintained as a conscious aim. On the contrary, taboos of this nature exist among savages who are so ignor- ant of sexual physiology as not to know the con- nection between intercourse and conception. But in the modern scientific knowledge of the laws of heredity which we have accumulated so far, we see that while the savage may not have been conscious of exactly what he as an individual was doing for the betterment of his tribe, there must have been in the unconscious minds of the un- tutored themselves just those combinations of ideas, derived in all probability from experience, that made them do the things whose wisdom they could not see. Under the name of worshipping a hideous totem they did what we with our scientific KNOWLEDGE ABOVE BELIEF 281 knowledge call by an entirely different name. The instinct of man which causes him to adopt customs minimizing inbreeding is only one of the many instincts shown by him, some^of which have indeed landed him in his present pitiable predica- ment. It may be said that his instincts have prompted him in some parts of the world to exactly the opposite kind of acts. As the net result of the instincts on which pres- ent civilization is founded is so humiliating in view of the present conditions all over the world it is well worth considering whether the natural evolu- tion of social ideals, in which little if any of the unconscious mental process is taken into considera- tion, is worth maintaining at all. Would it not be better to make a really objective study of the human and animal instincts everywhere, and attempt to find out what they have led to in their various developments in different parts of the world? Furthermore, is such an objective scien- tific study practically possible and could the results of it, when arrived at, be transmitted to enough of the world to make it really practicable? Evidently not enough people have thought so to make a really noticeable difference. And yet, in view of the increasing knowledge which a spread of intercommunication between peoples produces, without such an effort to dis- cover what has been done by humans and what could be done, humanity would be supine indeed. 282 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIKIT All we can do is to do all we know how, at the same time studying as diligently as possible how we can do better. According to his lights a few generations ago all a man could do was to obey the authoritative com- mands of the church or the king and he would know that he was doing as well as he was or could be expected to do. But the theory of democracy is that each man is now himself a king, or at any rate should be authority for himself. This implies that all men should be trained as potential leaders so that the most potent shall be chosen to lead where leading is necessary. How far this theory is justi- fied would be much more evident if the spiritists' following were greater than it is. Why it is not greater will appear when we have considered the motives which impel mankind toward religious and other beliefs. It would be w^ell here to consider these motives and to preface them with the briefest possible ex- position of the nature and extent of the unconscious mental operations of humanity. Why is it that some men believe one thing and others believe the direct contradictory of it? The answer can be only that they believe what they consciously or un- consciously desire to be so. " Belief " is the same word as " lief " which is derived from A. S. leof (dear) and is the same as the English love. Be- lieve then fundamentally means to regard any statement as desirable, not as scientifically proven to exist in actuality. The thoughtful observer can KNOWLEDGE ABOVE BELIEF 283 always notice this dominating motive in other peo- ple's beliefs, from the little child's statement after dropping a glass on the floor and breaking it : " It won't matter " to the most general political tenet, whether protection or free trade, paternalism or individualism. The little child's utterance " It won't matter" clearly expresses her concern over the accident and her desire to learn that no serious damage has been done. The political orator's logic is supplied from the same source. He wishes that protection, or prohibition or the league of nations or socialism or communism may win at the next election and he makes all the statements he can think of that say or appear to say the same thing. His motives may be conscious or unconscious. If he consciously argues for what unconsciously he does not believe we call him insincere or unscrup- ulous. If he argues consciously for the same be- lief that he wishes unconsciously to be true, he will be called sincere, and his arguments will have the greater influence upon his hearers, because their own unconscious faculties will not then detect in him inconsistencies that would otherwise appear. But it should not be forgotten that his hearers sometimes come to hear him in order to have their own conscious or unconscious beliefs supported, and that they are both in the same boat, so it is true everywhere that people do not wish to hear nor will they listen attentively to arguments against their beliefs, i. e., their conscious or unconscious wishes. The fact is that they cannot hear such 284 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT arguments or cannot apperceive them on account of their predisposition. § 9. Belief is not Knowledge So it is appropriate to consider the nature of the motives which impel men to believe in survival and in communication with those personalities who, as they believe, in some sjiiritual or other state sur- Tive death. With the actual existence of any scien- tific proof of immortality or survival in any shape this book has nothing whatever to do. The point of view of the present writer is that neither proof nor disproof, worthy of being called scientific, has ever been presented. The presentation of what is offered as a proof is evidence on the part of any one presenting it that he himself or his auditor may have a doubt about it. It is unscientific to believe or to doubt. What we know we know positively. I do not believe that all men are mortal. I know it, not alone by direct evidence of the senses, for I should not be sure that a sleeping man was not dead if his respiration or circulation were not perceptible or that a newly deceased, but still warm, person was not alive. I know it by other means more scientific than mere sense perception. In the waves of spiritism which periodically break over society what instincts are followed and what unconscious wishes are gratified, is the real question in any consideration of the social aspect of spiritism. Following the concepts deduced by KNOWLEDGE ABOVE BELIEF 285 Freud I have attempted to show that modem spiritism, like prehistoric animism is but the pro- jection upon the external world of unconscious de- sires — a projection which is perfectly natural and proceeds on the pleasure-pain principle, but which not only has no scientific status, but can have no scientific meaning. An idea which is the result, on the contrary of the reality principle of mental ac- tivity is on a different level or in a different sphere from an idea which is created by the pleasure-pain principle. The material progress of the present day is made by the thinking taking place in one of these spheres, the animism and spiritism of all ages is the inevitable product of the other principle. Each has its value for life but it is the acme of irrationality to attempt to affirm the truths of the latter in the language of the former and think the ^ values are the same. CHAPTER IX MAN^S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT § 1. Divisions of Psychical Research The main divisions of psychical research are on the one hand those concerning transmission of im- pressions from personality to personality, tele- pathy, etc., or on the other hand those concerning apparent contradictions of or exceptions to the laws of nature generally accepted by the scientific world, such as levitation or the overcoming of the principle of gravitation, actio in distans or the physical effect produced on a material object with- out apparent physical cause. The latter are sub- jects that in some cases are not claimed to be con- nected with any specific human intelligence, for example, the unexplainable movements of bricks and stones in a cave in England reported by Conan Doyle. All such phenomena, if they really exist, are matters for physical science to investigate, and will not be touched upon in this book. Using the definition of belief developed here, the present writer unhesitatingly would declare that he believes in their authenticity but that he does not have sci- entific knowledge of them nor is he acquainted with any one who knows them as facts scientifically proven. Much the same may be said of the matter of 286 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT 287 spirit photographs and other apparent exceptions to chemical and physical laws that are more closely- associated in time with the intelligence of an in- dividual person, such as the lifting of tables which is said to occur because of the co-operation of sev- eral minds at once; or, for example, the playing, and translation through space, of a mandolin in the presence of and supposedly because of the voli- tion of a personality operating through a medium. The present writer believes in all these, though his conscious wish to see Nature's laws so capriciously upset may not be so strong as his unconscious wish for the same irregularity. The question of prophecy is one that is involved in metaphysics even for the spiritist, and Maeter- linck in his IJnhnown Guest has shown some of the absurdities of premonitions. I quote from that book a passage (p. 160) which shows how the mat- ter appears to one who is so swayed by his uncon- scious wishes that he cannot accept the crassly ma- terial statement of fact: " Besides, in the gloomy regions of precognition, it is almost always a matter of anticipating a mis- fortune and very rarely, if ever, of meeting with a pleasure or a joy. We should therefore have to admit that the spirits which drag me to the fatal place and compel me to do the act that will have tragic consequences are deliberately hostile to me and find diversion only in the spectacle of my suf- fering. What could those spirits be, from which evil world would they arise, and how should we ex- 288 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT plain why our brothers and friends of yesterday, after passing through the august and peace-bestow- ing gates of death, suddenly become transformed into crafty and malevolent demons? Can the great spiritual kingdom, in which all passions born of the flesh should be stilled, be but a dismal abode of hatred, spite and envy? It will perhaps be said that they lead us into misfortune in order to purify us ; but this brings us to religious theories which it is not our intention to examine." " Premonition,'' he says in another place ( Op. cit. 134), " cares but little for the human value of the occurrence and puts the vision of a number in a lottery on the same plane as the most dramatic death. The roads by which it reaches us are also unexpected and varied. Often, as in the examples quoted, it comes to us in a dream. Sometimes it is an auditory or visual hallucination which seizes upon us while awake ; sometimes an indefinable but clear and irresistible presentiment, a shapeless but powerful obsession, an absurd but imperative cer- tainty which rises from the depths of our inner darkness, where perhaps lies hidden the final an- swer to every riddle." § 2. Unwarranted Inferences As an illustration of the propensity of the unsci- entific mind to make unwarranted deductions I will give the following possibility from my own experi- ence. I entered one evening in the dark the room in which my daughter, three years old, wias sleeping MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT 289 in her crib, next to her mother's bed. At once I was seized with a temporarily unaccountable idea that my wife was present in the room, though I could see nothing. I can understand how this feel- ing might have been construed by a spiritualist as a proof of telepathy or spirit influence emanating from my wife and acting upon my hypersensitive receptors. But as a matter of fact I had uncon- sciously heard her therd She stood between me and an open window thus cutting in two the slight sounds that came in from out doors. I was not conscious of hearing her at first or of hearing her presence in the form of interruption of sound be- tween me and the window. I thought to myself: " I believe N. is down stairs ; how strange that I should have so strong yet indefinite an impression that she is right here in the room with me. I know she is in the room. I cannot see her or hear her or feel her in any way but I am sure she is here. How can I account for the impression? " Then I actually heard her move as she adjusted the child's bedclothes. But there did not appear any tele- pathy in the incident as it is quite evident that I must have heard her unconsciously in both ways above mentioned — that my unconscious heard her, as she was in the room when I entered, having gone in before me, and as I went into the room with con- scious attention on far other matters. I had gone there to get something and when I enter a dark room in my house to get something my conscious mind is full of mental images which obliterate 290 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT all slight impressions from outside sources. I have visual images of the object I am looking for and cutaneous and motor images of the various pieces of furniture I anticipate touching to guide myself ; so that if I bump into my chair in an unexpected place I get a very strong impression. As I entered the dark room on the occasion above noted, therefore, it is absolutely certain that my feeling of my wife's presence, although my back was turned to her, was an unconscious perception, mediated by impressions of an auditory quality which were at first unable to penetrate into my conscious thought-stream be- cause of the vivid images of two sense qualities already there, viz. : tactual and auditory. Later the auditory stimuli which were continuous from the moment of my entering the room till I became con- sciously aware of her presence, were released, as one might express it, into consciousness by the re- tirement of the internal images in favour of the actual auditory sensations which they had pre- viously excluded. This exclusion of actual impressions is no un- common thing in my own case or in any one's else. It accounts for the failure of all impressions not attended to, to occupy the focus of consciousness, e. g., everything in the field of vision that we do not see, and everything in the ordinary melange of sounds that does not have personal significance for us. At the time of their action on the sense organs these stimuli are not merely si^-bconscious in the sense of faintly conscious as are the objects near MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT 291 the outside of the field of vision of the fixated eye, but they are totally unconscious or entirely out of consciousness. They make no conscious impres- sion whatever. They finally become conscious or enter consciousness only after they have either be- come related to some idea strong enough to enter consciousness or have become so intense or cumu- lative as to make a positive onslaught upon the conscious stream. And in this connection it must not be forgotten that a stimulus which in some circumstances might be strong enough to constitute a severe shock to the psyche, such as a bullet wound in the leg, may in other circumstances such as a battle not enter con- sciousness at all at the time, and only do so later when the conscious thought-stream, which by un- precedented excitement has been fixed and nar- rowed into a very fine thread, so to speak, is re- leased, by the subject's being taken out of the bat- tle, or by the excitement having otherwise sub- sided. Then the stream of consciousness, freed from the constriction in which the excitement has bound it to some highly specialized and definite stimulus, has the opportunity to wander over the various parts of the body and suddenly becomes aware of a fierce pain in the leg. § 3. Narrowing of Consciousness Just as the narrowing of consciousness to a group of stimuli of vital importance will render everything except that group incapable of enter- 292 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT ing consciousness, so will the opposite action of broadening the stream of consciousness by means of muffled external impressions (dimmed lights, soft music, etc.) render a great many more things than usual capable of entering consciousness. In the ab- sence of strong external stimuli with which is nor- mally associated the feeling of reality, the less in- tense mental states called images are enabled to enter consciousness. The external conditions of the mediumistic seance are as if planned to evoke the free associations of all the persons concerned. These free associations are the various types of mental imagery. In addition to that the feeling of reality being like other feelings susceptible of being detached from one idea and reattached to others is most likely in such circumstances to dissociate it- self from the monotonous sameness of the sitting still and being quiet of the seance and reassociate itself with the mental images which are in this physical setting in a most favourable situation for emerging from the unconscious (where they exist in the form of indefinite wishes for self-aggrandize- ment) and appearing in consciousness where they are immediately seized by the expectant and other- wise under-exercised feeling of reality. It must not be considered necessary that the thoughts, occurring in the sitters amid the undi- rected circumstances of the seance, should occur in the form of visual images or of ^auditory images or of the images of any of the other sense qualities. The thoughts may occur merely as verbal thoughts. MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT 293 There are numbers of people who do not have men- tal imagery at all or who saj they do not, though they cannot be accused of not having ideas. In such persons the idea is practically only a symbol in the form of a word or a verbal judgment or proposition. But even in such people the word, which alone comes into consciousness, is naturally backed by the visual, auditory or other image. Those whose thought is carried on in most abstract and word-symbolic form and whose train of thought is thus not unlike the flight of an aeroplane, have yet to come to earth between flights and in so doing inevitably land on a concrete basis of one or other sense impression. It is quite probable on the contrary that the aver- age human thinks in terms of sights and sounds and other sensations which under the conditions appro- priate for the revery state he can mentally see and hear, feel and touch. The abstract thinker also in- evitably thinks in terms of concrete sense qualities of which, however, he savs he is unable to become conscious. The sum-total of human experience is first the external sensations with which is associated the internal feeling of reality, and second the images or ideas of internal origin with which this feeling of reality is not ordinarily associated. But in many people this reality feeling has a faint and tenuous existence which is associated with mental imagery. I have elsewhere noted (Chap. I) that, as we function as an integrated organic totality in 294 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIEIT perceiving the impressions made on us by external stimuli, it is not less true that the integration is maintained between the images and the just as specific, though much fainter, feeling of reality. It does not require much strain of the reasoning ability of any of us to see that the circumstances of the mediumistic seance are such as to increase the amount of reality feeling available for being associated with images in direct proportion as the amount of reality feeling is released from the im- pressions received through external stimuli. The images become more real in proportion to the faint- ness and diminished intensity of the external sen- sations. The less coming from outside the more will come from inside and vice versa. § 4. Transfer of Reality Feeling Therefore if the lights are turned low actual sight will lose its feeling of reality and visual im- ages will attract to themselves the same feelings of reality. If actual sounds are excluded as far as possible, the auditory images will appropriate the residue of reality feeling remaining from the actual sounds made in the seance chamber and filtering into it from the out-door world. If the sitters re- main motionless for a half an hour it is highly un- likely that mental images of cutaneous sensations will not arise and occasion the cold breeze felt emanating from a Palladino or the " cobweb " sen- sation on the face, which is said to occur to the MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT 295 medium when the materialization phenomena ap- pear. The -reality of these things is, however, only the amount of reality feeling released from actual ex- ternal sensations which are diminished as far as possible in the spiritualistic seances. The reality of these things is the reality feeling transferred from actual external sensations to the images of one sense quality or another. This transference is quite a common experience as we have seen else- where (Chap. I, Sec. 6), Transferences of emo- tions from one idea to another are a universal phe- nomenon. Hate or love is transferred from one object to another. Liking is transferred from a certain food, milk, normally at different ages in different people, to another food, bread or meat or what not. Our tastes in all mental spheres change by virtue of just such transferences of emotions from one idea to another. W Quite similar is the transference of the feeling of reality from the actual external sensation to the mental imag^ If only enough of the reality feel- ing is transferred from the external one to the men- tal one, the latter becomes quite as real for the in- dividual in whom the transference takes place as was the external impression. All the external cir- cumstances are unconsciously arranged with ex- actly this aim in view — the transference of the reality feeling from external impression to mental image. The stage is set for it and the hero is 296 MAN^S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT bound to appear. It requires only the most favour- able setting to evoke the most wonderful results. The psychical researchers have set a trap for a spirit and their expectations would be sadly dis- appointed if no spirit appeared. The spirit does indeed appear — Man's Unconscious Spirit or the "spirit '' of one's own unconscious; (Maeterlinck's Unknown Guest) — but, expressed in less dramatic and more psychological terms, what appear are the mental images in the consciousness of the sitter and they are called a spirit, as they are immediately associated with the floating reality feeling, which is quite uncomfortable if it cannot fasten itself to anything. Or the words of the medium appear, and are taken as the manifestation of a " spirit." Man's Unconscious Spirit then is the only spirit there is that, by scientific methods, can be proved to exist — the " spirit " or personality or group of them, according to the way one cares to look at it. This is not saying that there may not be some- thing that may be called " spirit," not yet demon- strable or definable by science, but is only saying that " spirit " as expressed or described in the spiritistic literature does not fit in any scientific category now known. To call the outgivings of different lower levels of the mind of a single in- dividual organism spirits is a comprehensible, if not an artistic, metaphor. To say that they are or may become discarnate is absolutely unwarrant- able. To attribute to them powers over matter is infinitely worse from the purely scientific view- MAN^S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT 297 point, however beautiful and desirable it may be from any other. This then is all Man's Unconscious Spirit means or can mean ; that the memories in the apparently illimitable storehouse of the unconscious of a single individual may be awakened and brought into con- sciousness in systems that resemble the integrations of the conscious life of almost any other individual human ; that these systems have been so long buried in the apparent oblivion of the unconscious as to be unrecognizable to consciousness; that, being un- recognizable they are taken as the thoughts of other personalities; that the apparent continuity of the conscious ego is such that these other personalities are rejected as being the same as the conscious ego now re-experiencing them; and that these foreign seeming thought systems, that are nevertheless part and parcel of the organism of the ego in question, are thereupon regarded as the personalities now surviving of other ego-organisms that may have dis- integrated yesterday or thousands of years ago. § 5. Relativity of Images This relativity principle between the power of internal images and external stimuli should make the psychical researcher, if he took it into account, very careful about the evidence of the senses at any seance or in any circumstances where he is looking for the unusual. Under the circumstances recommended for the " formation " of a " circle " of spiritists are that the room should be quiet and not 298 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT brightly lighted, in a high and dry air, and that flowers should be in the room " as their presence '' (I quote from a manual for would-be spiritists) " is said to attract spirits in a peculiar manner." ^ It is a common fact of even conscious psychology that odours have a very high associative power, and there are few flowers without fragrance of some sort. I have given elsewhere (Chap. V, Sec. 16) an account of the power that the odour of a small blot of ink had to break into my consciousness while I was reading a book one summer evening. All these recommendations for forming a spiritistic circle of people are such as would lower the bars ordinarily up against impressions of faint intensity on the one hand and on the other also permit the images that at such times crowd into the stream of conscious- ness to rank well in intensity, i. e., to be reasso- ciated with the reality feeling that normally accom- panies the actual physical stimuli. Therefore the unconscious wish, which, through the mechanism of projection elsewhere described, launches upon the external world the qualities of sense that constitute its chief or special gratifica- tion — the unconscious wish is under such circum- stances much more likely to be in a position to ex- ternalize itself in a mental image which will be taken for a real external perception. Many of the persons taking part in spiritistic seances are not in the least introspective and the attention to images 1 Carrington : Your Psychic Powers and How to Develop Them. N. Y., 1920. . MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT 299 which is the habit of introspection is an absolutely new experience for them. Therefore it would be a very unsafe thing to take their testimony as to what they saw or heard. It would require for the best evidence a person who had made a thorough study of his mental imagery, and who could be trusted to differentiate between his images and his sensations. This requisition will be taken up in greater detail in Chapter X. Another spiritistic writer who better under- stands the scientific requirements of the situation is Mr. J. Arthur Hill who in his Spiritualism (pp. 127, 128) says: " One of the principal difficulties in the way of admitting an element of supemormality — whether telepathy, clairvoyance or communica- tion from the dead — is the unknown reach of sub- liminal memory. . . . Great care is necessary as to what we say to sensitives who are helping us in ex- perimentation, also close knowledge of their lives, their reading, their associations in order to esti- mate the probability or improbability of this or that piece of knowledge ever having reached them through normal channels." This is the proper at- titude but it is not strong enough, due probably to the writer's being unacquainted with the extreme reach of the psychoanalytic sounding line which, as I have elsewhere mentioned, has brought up mem- ories after thirty years of oblivion and made them live with dramatic vividness in the consciousness of the person being analysed. CHAPTER X SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS § 1. The Personal Factor in Science When we look at the progress that has been made in science and think of the fact that this advance has come, in spite of the many antagonisms between men of science, we are impressed more and more with the fact that the personal element has existed in all the controversies about various the- ories of mind and matter, and considering this strife about precedence and the professional jeal- ousy and the envy, and the acrimony with which some have defended their own and opposed others' theories, we cannot but regret that this has been so, and we cannot but wish that this emotional life, this introjection and projection of feelings had not been there to diminish the value of the concrete re- sults obtained. They would have been so much greater if there had not been so much personal friction involved in getting them — a deflection of libido which has greatly detracted from the amount and quality of the results. This lessening of the amount of human energy devoted to strictly scientific pursuits due to the amount of it wasted on controversial matters, is something entirely due to the unconscious habit of 300 SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS 301 all men, including men of science, to think accord- ing to the pleasure-pain principle instead of the reality principle. It is the operation of the former solely that causes polemics and controversies. And I cannot but think that much of the energy devoted to psychical research is actuated or diverted into that direction by the fancied pleasure it would be to prov^ scientifically the extra-corporeal existence of personal consciousness. The psychical researchers virtually say to scientists, " We admit that you say that there is no proof, but we are going to take your own methods and show you that you could have demonstrated this yourselves long before. The very principles you say are unquestionably against our evidence we will use to show that you are mistaken.'' In this connection I should like to quote S. Ferenczi {Contributions to Psycho-Analysis, p. 217). He says: "Unconscious affects (emotions), however, may falsify the truth not only in psychology but also in all other sciences. . . . Every one who works in Science should first submit himself to a methodical psychoanalysis. " The advantages that would accrue to Science from this deepened self-knowledge on the part of the scientist are evident. An enormous amount of power for work, which is now wasted on infantile controversies and priority disputes, could be put at the disposal of more serious aims. The danger of projecting into Science as a generally valid theory v/^ 302 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT peculiarities of one's own personality (Freud) would be much less. The hostile manner also in which, even nowadays, new unusual ideas or sci- fentific propositions are received when put forward by unknown authors, unsupported by any authori- tative personality, would give way to a more un- prejudiced testing by reality. I will go so far as to maintain that, if this rule of self-analysis were observed, the development of the various sciences, which today is an endless series of energy-wasting revolutions and reactions, would pursue a much smoother yet a more profitable and accelerated course." As an illustration of this I would mention the history of homeopathy, during which there has de- veloped an enormous amount of scientific observa- tion on the mental and physical effects of various drugs on the human system, a mass of material invaluable to humanity, which, partly due to the opposition of the " regular " school of medicine, is still undigested and practically unavailable. But it is also partly due to the extravagant claims made by the homeopathists themselves, claims paralleled in their inclusiveness by osteopathists, by chiro- practors, by mental healers and by Christian Sci- entists, all of whom have discovered a grain of truth, but have presented it in such a way as to antagonize rather than to gain the sympathy of others, who are with equal zeal, concerned in the same pursuit of studying, in their own narrow way, to ameliorate human ills. SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS 303 § 2. Exclusion of Unconscious Factor So it is from this point of view no more than rea- sonable to point out to the psychical researchers a source of error which perhaps they have overlooked and to say that until this is removed they will hardly succeed in convincing those whom it is most to their interest to convince. If a medium should be adequately analysed by a thoroughly scientific analyst of the Freudian school and after years of patient investigation on the part of the analyst and training and study on the part of the medium, after this really scientific investiga- tion, the medium still could produce " levitations " and " spirit '' photographs, and was not himself convinced that all his conscious and unconscious utterances emanated directly or indirectly from his own unconscious, then and not until then would sci- ence be justified in giving serious attention to what now seem to be exceptions to universally valid laws of matter. But this has never been done, and it is an essential requisition for anything that could rightly be called a scientific proof. There are perfectly good reasons why this has not been sought by the medium himself, for what- ever psychical peculiarities he has, whether they be normal or abnormal qualities, are never such as to cause him much friction with his environment. By the people anxious for spiritual aggrandizement the medium is treated with honour. From such people he receives a rich reward for his hypersensibility,) / 304 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT whicli if not directly pecuniary is still material value (e. g., Home). I have naturally no criticism to make of the mediums who sincerely believe in their powers. The frauds have been detected in goodly numbers, and it is to the credit of the So- cieties for Psychical Research that they have in- stantly repudiated a medium when they have found him guilty of any indirection. But the sincere and honest mediums who take themselves most seriously and never consciously resort to any ruse, are quite -' as likely to be self-deceived as are their adherents, I because we are all alike swayed by our unconscious - wishes for aggrandizement of the ego. Only the smallest possible number of us at present are in a position definitely to be able to state that our utter- ances or the visions we see or the phantom sounds we hear are not the results of the activities of our ^ own unconscious minds. Therefore I should add to the requirements for really scientific proof of spiritistic phenomena the further requirement that, if the aqtivities of the unconscious are to be rigidly excluded in the proof of spiritism in any of its manifestations, the in- vestigators themselves will have to be analysed. It will be as necessary for truly scientific work as that not only the person operated on in a surgical operation, but even the doctors and nurses be thor- oughly antisepticised. But while I might have hesitated somewhat in making the negative state- ment that no medium has ever been analysed up to the point of remembering and recognizing all his SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS 305 former sense experiences, I shall have no hesita- tion whatever in asserting that no medium has ever been analysed and after his analysis been witnessed by a group of thoroughly analysed spectators. In fact I am almost certain that at the present time such a situation is a physical impossibility. For as thorough an analysis of an individual human as has ever been made to date, several hundred sit- tings are necessary, and at the rate of three or four a week the whole proceeding for one individual might take a year or two. A skilled analyst there- fore would have to spend a couple of years devot- ing all his time to the research work on the uncon- scious of the medium and the four or five specta- tors who were going to witness his performances subsequent to his and their analysis. And I am sure such thoroughgoing preparations for scientific proof of spiritism have never been carried out. But they would have to be, in order to afford strictly scientific proof of spiritistic phenomena. To carry out these specifications to the letter, viz. : to take the best believed medium on record and pre- pare him by thorough psychoanalytic treatment and to train by a similar method four or five competent witnesses to inspect his mediumistic performances, if any, after his analysis, would be the only con- ceivable way to exclude the unconscious factor in the process. And even these extensive precautions, not against fraud, but against self-deception on the part of both medium and witnesses, would be a no more labori- 306 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT ous procedure than many of those scientific methods which have produced things of every day use from 666 to the mazda lamp. I cannot say that scien- tists who have performed Herculean labours in pure and applied science have not expressed themselves as believing in spiritism, but I think I can justly /"^say that such scientists have failed to apply to psychical research work the same year-long and indefatigable persistence that they have given to material things. In this we clearly see the activity of the uncon- scious wish on the part of the scientists who have won their laurels by making investigations into the constitution of matter. They have not come out saying that their researches into matter convinced them of the existence of spirit in order to explain matter. But they have left their laboratories or doffed their laboratory habit of thought and en- tertained mediums in their laboratories, remitting for a while their strictly scientific work and yielded finally in their old age to the constant and increas- ing pressure of the unconscious wishes of them- selves and their acquaintances. We cannot but be- lieve that they would not have come out for spirit- ualism if they had not in a sense come out of their laboratories for relaxation, fatigued, and naturally so, after a lifetime of unremitting labour. It is a significant fact, too, that some of the most prom- inent advocates of spiritistic phenomena have been doubters in their youth, like Conan Doyle, and have % i SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS 307 yielded to the pressure of their own and others' un- i conscious in later life. All the positive advances in and contributions to science have involved not less, but more compli- cated research than that outlined above as a pre- requisite for the scientific proof of spiritism. To each one of countless scientific discoveries and in- ventions years of toil on the part of one or two men have been devoted. To the present condition of the automobile, the aeroplane, the telephone, the wireless, years of co-ordinated endeavour of many men have contributed, and the result is definite and tangible and familiar — not a matter of belief but an actual fact. The statements of the believers in spiritualism have no such backing. For the appro- priately constituted mind belief is not only easy, it is inevitable. " Thou reasonest well, Plato ! It must be so." But we must not forget for a moment that belief is the verbal or act expression of the unconscious wish. § 3. Belief a Wish In order to make this clear if possible we shall have to consider somewhat at length the origin of belief in the unconscious and the nature of the un- conscious itself as it is manifested in the percep- tions and actions, not merely of the mentally dis- ordered but of those who are absolutely normal and wholesome healthy humans. We all believe what we unconsciously wish. The 308 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIKIT belief expressed consciously in word or deed is the perceptible expression of the imperceptible impulse. For our beliefs we do not need and do not want any scientific proof no matter how much we may happen to say we do, or say that we cannot believe what is not proved or patent to the senses. A consideration of the origin of beliefs, whether religious or political, psychological or philological, takes us into the study of the nature and origin in the individual mind of ideas themselves. I think no distinction need be made for psychological pur- poses between ideas and things, for to the mind everything is an idea and every idea is a thing. We have sensations from our internal organs to which I have elsewhere given the name of " reality feelings '' sensations which we experience together with certain so-called " external " senses such as sight, hearing, tactual impressions, pressure, mo- tion, smell, etc. Those " reality feelings " give us our orientation, sometimes somewhat defective to be sure, in the world of external reality. What ac- tually exists, the thing in itself, concerns us only as we happen to react to it, and frequently makes on us no impression at all of which we are aware. But we caji infer from our own mental states (sights, sounds, etc., feelings and emotions), that impressions have been made on our bodies by forces of which we are not and never could become directly conscious. Furthermore, the fusions and colliga- tions of impressions made through the avenues of sense are entities that for the most part never enter SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS 309 consciousness at all. We frequently move our en- tire body automatically, and particularly when the stream of consciousness is narrowed by deep emo- tions, or great excitement, and in these situations we are led and directed by ideas or groups of ideas that are not then in and sometimes do not sub- sequently enter, consciousness. Now I am aware that, in saying as I did above that forces of which we are not and never can be- come conscious are having an effect on us, I am lay- ing myself open to the charge of admitting spirit- ual forces. The forces that work upon us below our conscious level may be, it will be said, the disem- bodied spirits by which the ether is so copiously populated. How can I prove that is not the case? But I might reply quite as reasonably : How can it be proved that the forces which produce these sub- liminal effects are not forces inherent in the men- tal content of the individual in question? Why may they not just as plausibly be the ideas gen- erated, to speak figuratively, by the memories of past experiences lying apparently dormant in the mind, but yet, as is abundantly proved by psycho- analytic research, quite as active and vigorous as if they had entered consciousness. For we are not to imagine that consciousness alone gives life to ideas and fusions of thoughts. An unconscious idea may be quite as lively as a conscious one, it may grow and develop from year to year and never once enter consciousness. That an idea occurs to consciousness shows that it has acquired in the 310 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT mind enough force of its own to push its way up- ward, taking concrete sense-impression form as it emerges. But the occurrence of an idea to my mind is no proof that it has come ready-made from any other intelligence, bodied or disembodied. It may quite as well be the product of my own mind as that of any other person's, and is much more likely to be my own thought composed in my own unconscious than it is to be an idea transmitted by some disembodied spirit. It is thus evident that the source of any idea has to be scientifically investigated with the more care, the greater its possibilities are of being derived either from the unconscious of the particular per- son having it or from some external source beyond the ordinary distance from which any average im- pression is made on the sensorium by the external world. If I can show that the unconscious is an inex- haustible treasure-house of ideas of all possible kinds, combinations and permutations of ideas that have once been sense impressions received from the external world, I shall in so doing show that the origin of ideas purporting to come from disem- bodied spirits may quite as well be within the ego as without it. All the more, then, shall we have to have it finally decided that such and such an idea could not pos- sibly have come from the unconscious before we can say that we have scientific proof of its extraneous origin. SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS 311 The unconscious is conceived as an absolutely faithful record of all impressions of the individual from his birth ( or even before his birth — even in his intra-uterine existence) on to the time when the idea in question pops into his head supposedly for the first time. If the medium were analysed he would then have it made clear to him that all the trance utterances are but emanations from his own mind. The fash- ion is for the medium to repudiate this idea, because at present the fashion is to pay big rewards or hom- age to mediums. Therefore I say that the medium or any person through whom the manifestations of external " spirits '' are made have never been ade- quately analysed to show the actual origin of the ideas issuing in the seance. I affirm that this origin could be found. Also that it has not been found because the personal motives against having it discovered are so strong, emanating, as they do, from the same source as the trance utterances. But two approximations to the analysis of a me- dium have been made. One of these had at the time of this writing not been printed and is there- fore unavailable in its scientific form. The out- lines of it are, however, suggested in what follows. The other is the case of Elsa Barker. § 4. Dr. Q's Case The nearest approach to the analysis of a medium that has at the same time the merit of being truly scientific is the following one of Dr. N. Q. It is ^ 312 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT naturally quite negative in results, from the spirit- istic point of view. A young woman becoming interested in the ouija board, when the recent fad struck her town, amused herself with it as the others did. She was of an aristocratic family, among the possessions of which handed down from some ancestors was a copper tray about which there was a tradition that in some way its integrity was connected with the welfare of the family itself. Miss X. put the question to the ouija board, " What shall I do with the tray? Shall I put it in storage? " and got the reply, " No.'' It should be noted that this story covers quite a period of time and that, after this interesting reply of the ouija board. Miss X. learned automatic writ- ing in which she became skilled enough to dispense with the ouija board entirely. Inquiring who the intelligence was who was com- municating, the hand wrote " Rob Taylor,'' and said that he lived at the Yorktown Hotel. To test this Miss X. called up the hotel and to her great surprise found that they knew him. He was a well known craft worker in metal and had lived there; but had recently died. She continued her auto- matic writing. Asking the " spirit " of Mr. Taylor if he could not give her still more proof of his continued ex- istence by appearing in visible form before her, her hand wrote, " Look in the dark doorway on the other side of the room." She did so and, to her amazement, she clearly saw a tall. figure with soft SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS 313 hat and Van Dyke beard, and with a cape on — a very artistic looking person. Being of a truly scientific mind she tested this vision by going to a friend of Taylor's who, she knew, took a great many photographs, and asked him if he had any of Taylor. " I think so," he said, and produced a pile of prints. " See if you can pick him out.'' She turned them over one by one and finally held up one. " This is the man I saw in my vision in the doorway." " That's Rob Taylor," said his friend. She went home and continued her automatic writing. She asked Mr. Taylor what she should do with the family copper tray in order best to pre- serve it. Through her hand he said, " Colour it ! " " But," she said, " I know nothing about colour- ing copper. How shall I go about it?" " Go," the hand wrote, " to the drug store and buy an ounce of powder that I always used for such purposes. It is called Liv . . ." The rest of this word was illegible. She went to the drug store, asking if Mr. Taylor was not in the habit of buying some of his materials there. " Yes, madam, can we supply you with any- thing? " " I wanted to get an ounce of the powder such as Mr. Taylor used for colouring copper trays." The clerk immediately suggested sal ammoniac. As he did so Miss X. was distinctly aware that 314 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT the spirit of Rob Taylor was there, standing by her in the drug store before the counter, and indicating in some mysterious manner that this was not the proper chemical. She said: "Is this the chemical he always used? Did he not sometimes use some other? " " Well, yes. Come to think of it, he did some- times use a very peculiar chemical. I'll get some if we have it. It isn't often called for." In a moment he returned with another package. It was labelled " Liver of Sulphur." These automatic writings and the testing out of them went to the extent that Miss X.'s friends be- gan to think her quite uncanny. One of them, a Mrs. Y., also evincing a truly scientific spirit, got her to consent to test the thing out further, and with the help of the best brains in the country, so she went to Dr. N. Q. He hypnotized her and in the hypnosis she re- called three separate incidents which she had en- tirely forgotten, and gave Dr. Q. a detailed account of them. The first was the memory of reading in a news- paper about the death of Rob Taylor. The obit- uary gave his picture and told that he was a very successful art worker, also that he lived in the Yorktown Hotel. The second was the memory of an occasion when she had herself gone one evening with friends to dine at the Yorktown. In the lobby they noticed a very distinguished, looking individual with long; SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS 315 cape, Van Dyke beard and soft felt hat. She asked one of her companions who that man was. " It's Rob Taylor, the craft worker. I thought you knew him," The third memory was of some copper work done in the convent school where Miss X. went as a girl. She remembered quite clearly that one of the chem- icals used in the work they did there was labelled Liver of Sulphur. Miss X.'s automatic writing was thus entirely explained. Every bit of information that she got from the " spirit " and that was so dramatically corroborated, was in her own unconscious mental storehouse and was released through her automatic writing. Every bit of it was accounted for. Among other things Dr. Q. looked for and found the very newspaper account of Rob Taylor's death. Surely it is a scientific necessity to exclude the unconscious factor. § 5. Elsa Barker This lady says that in 1912 while in Paris she was " strongly impelled to take up a pencil and write, though what I was to write about I had no idea. Yielding to the impulse, my hand was seized as if from the outside, and a remarkable message of a personal nature came, followed by the signa- ture ^ X.' " This man was known to have died in Los Angeles February 21, 1912, David P. Hatch being his name. He was supposed to be the " con- trol " in the writing of two volumes : Letters from a 316 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT Living Dead Man (1914) and War Letters from the Living Dead Man (1915). In the introduction to the War Letters which were written in 1915, about the time when she sajs she first became interested in psychoanalysis, she writes as follows : " When made aware of the presence of ^ X ' I take a pencil and a notebook, as any other amanu- ensis would, and by an effort of will, now easy from long practice, I still the activity of my objective mind, until there is no thought or shadow of a thought in it. Then into the brain itself come the words, which flow out without conscious effort at the point of the pencil. It is exactly as if I heard the dictation with a single auditory instrument, like a small and very sensitive sphere, in the centre of the brain. " I never know at the beginning of a sentence how it will end. I never know whether the sen- tence I am writing will be the last or if two thou- sand words will follow it. I simply write on, in a state of voluntary negativity, until the impression of personality described above leaves suddenly. Then no more words come. . . . " The question will naturally arise in the mind of the sceptical reader (it has in mine ^), whether my own subconscious mind has not itself dictated the following War Letters from the Living Dead Man in the attempt to explain a world tragedy which would have seemed impossible two years ago. 1 Dated Sept. 15, 1915. SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS 317 ^^ But from my long experience in writing for X and from the fact that during two years I had not written for him except on two or three unimportant occasions, though often thinking of him, and from my acquired habit of minute obser\^ation of super- normal phenomena, I now feel safe in assuming that I know the difference between the actual pres- ence of * X ' and my own imagination of him, my reminiscence of him, or even the suggestion of his presence from another's mind. "... I freely welcome every logical argument against the belief that these letters are what they purport to be; but placing those arguments in op- position to the evidence which I have of the gen- uineness of them, the affirmations outweigh the denials, and I accept them." In 1919 appeared the Last Letters from the Liv- ing Dead Man, in the introduction to which the au- tomatist says that for a year she has studied psy- choanalysis fourteen hours a day, that her own belief in immortality seems ineradicable, and that science is not to be blamed if she has not lost through the analytical process her instinctive belief in individual immortality. But she clearly shows that scientific proof of it is lacking. " I was torn by pity for those who were suffer- ing, and after years of war nearly every one was suffering ; but I wanted to be at the front with the Red Cross, and my health would not permit me to go. I could help various war committees, but I could not go to my tortured and beloved France — 318 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT to be perhaps an added burden, should I break down altogether. " The only escape from this conflict was in ab- struse studies, studies where pure mind can work. So I seriously took up Analytical Psychology, in which I had been mildly interested since 1915. Some 14 hours a day for a year I studied, some of the time with a teacher, some of the time alone. I burrowed under the theories of the three great schools, and synthetized them, after my fashion. I had rather an active mind to experiment on — my own. The ' resistance,' so-called, had been broken down by the teacher. " My present line of life (and through the anal- ysis of my dreams I have means of knowing what it is) points to the resumption of my original lit- erary work, poetry, fiction and essays, and to the exclusion, so far as possible, of everything that would deflect me from that course. " My own belief in immortality seems ineradic^ able. I did not know that until it was tested out- But we must always remember that our personal belief is not absolute evidence of the truth of what we believe — at least until we shall have examined all the psychological roots of the belief, and in the present state of our knowledge that is well-nigh im- possible. " I have touched upon analytical psychology in this introduction because I am so constituted that I cannot publish this last volume of my automatic writings without indicating my point of view, with. SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS 319 the same frankness as in former introductions. Please do not blame science because I have not lost through the analytic process my instinctive be- lief in individual immortality. I assure you it has not been the fault of science. " So having found a well whose waters were re- freshing, I note the fact — and pass on." Her experience in automatic writing is strikingly similar to my own ordinary composition. The gen- eral idea of a book or a chapter or a paragraph is in my mind as a sort of indefinite feeling which is to become definite in the sentence or the paragraph. But I can quite as truly say that at the beginning of a sentence I never know how it will end, because by "know'' in this sense I should have to mean " be conscious of the specific words " with which the sentence is to end. I could not know that in this sense because I should have to be conscious of a whole long spoken sentence seriatim. When I write I hear the words as auditory mental images in my mind's ear, and, if they come too fast, I can- not write them. In no case can I be said to be conscious of all of them at once. At any point in the sentence I do not have in consciousness more than four or five words, so that if the sentence con- tains twenty words the consciousness of the last five words puts the first fifteen out of conscious- ness. This does not mean that I do not have feel- ings of the appropriateness or inappropriateness of the last five to the other fifteen. For the last five have been chosen from the unconscious by the un- 320 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT conscious for the special purpose of being fit and suitable for the first fifteen. But while writing the first five I am unconscious of the last five, although I might be said to be more or less aware of what they are going to be like. So that between the most conscious possible form of writing which the ordinary person does when he writes a letter, and the absolutely automatic writ- ing (done either awake, but not looking at or read- ing the finger motions, or in a trance) there is no difference in kind but only in degree. Even if I know what I want to say, I am, just as much as is an automatist, unconscious of what words I am going to say it in. In this sense my writing is as automatic as is that of the Letters from a Living Dead Man, and I should be quite as unwilling to ascribe anything I wrote to the control of a spirit as I should any of the so-called spirit messages con- veyed through the now very numerous automatic writers. Excepting the case of the other automatic writer mentioned in the preceding section this is the only case on record where the automatism, which had every mark of being controlled by a disembodied spirit, has been frankly admitted to be the work of the unconscious. This case of the writer of the Letters from the Living Man is the more interesting from the fact that she began by being sceptical, was convinced by her own feelings and by the in- ternal evidence of the letters themselves that the latter were veridical; but after psychoanalysis. SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS 321 while she declares her belief in immortality un- shaken, she resolves to do no more automatic writ- ing. If she were not now practically convinced that as communications they have no scientific value she would certainly have gone on with them, for in coherence and in beauty of style, in their actual mental content and elevated spiritual char- acter, they are unsurpassed among automatic writ- ings. Furthermore she is something of a clairvoyant too, saying that while in New York she " saw the shelling of Scarborough at the hour when it oc- curred." It is significant that she only incident- ally notes this fact in her introduction. But she says she is a writer of fiction, poetry and essays and desires to devote her time to these in the future, showing by this attitude the real value she places on the Letters as scientific proofs entirely apart from any value they may have as works of the imagination. It would be most desirable if all the other auto- matists and psychical researchers would spend fourteen hours a day on psychoanalytic studies for a year ! § 6. The Value of Phantasy Finally we must conclude that the attempt to in- ject the pleasure-pain, phantasying activities of the unconscious mind into science is a wholly unscien- tific procedure. The only way the phantasying ac- tivity can enter scientific work is the way it has 322 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT in psychoanalysis, namely by being studied as a mental phenomenon quite on an equality with all other mental phenomena. It becomes the mate- rial of scientific work but it cannot perform sci- entific work. That is, however, exactly what spir- itists are trying to do with it. The phantasies of the human unconscious can no more be made into the laws of cause and effect, than can the amoeba studied by a biologist be turned into a biologist. The content of the visual and auditory imagination, consisting of mental pictures and words and other sounds can no more logically be regarded as ab- stract principles than can a picture or a sonata be proved always to arouse the same emotions in all who see or hear. But that is what the spiritist is attempting to do. The collective phantasy of races and nations has produced racial religions and national creeds, and the influence of these has been great and beneficial at times. But there has always been the same an- tagonism between religion and science that there is between the phantasy in the individual and reality thinking. The antagonism need never lead to rup- ture. It may be as advantageous and really as nec- essary as that between antagonistic muscles in the human frame and as inevitable as emotional ambi- valence. It is only the attempt of misguided thinkers to reconcile them, or of either one of the antagonists to do without the other, that leads to disaster. Therefore it seems to an impartial observer a pity SCIENTIFIC INVESTIG«ATIONS 323 n that belief should try to force knowledge, or that knowledge should be thought by any one to under- mine belief. It seems like the annihilation of be- lief to have belief invoke the support of knowledge. Whether belief or knowledge be on the higher plane, they are on two different planes and they never can coincide. The very fact that the spiritist calls for the help of science to fortify his belief is a proof that his belief is weakening, and that he feels it needs support. The true believer is the one whose mental processes go on entirely on the plane of phantasy. He is independent of knowledge, and should remain so. It looks much as if he could never get the knowledge which would satisfy him, particularly if he begins the search for it late in life. On the other hand, the man of science will never bother with belief, so long as he remains truly scientific. It means nothing to him and is abso- lutely foreign to the plane of his reality thinking. Except, of course, that a man may be truly sci- entific in all his thinking along his special line of research and be quite the reverse in any other line. Such a man, however, ought not to try to make two parallels meet, but to realize that in this respect he {/''^ is himself a double personality. I have mentioned the different values which the two kinds of thinking have, and I shall not be so rash as to say that one of them is greater than the other, a statement which seems to be as futile as that either man or woman is more necessary than the other for the perpetuation of the race. The 32t MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIEIT grand fallacy is the failure to recognize that neither the reality principle nor the pleasure-pain principle can be entirely dispensed with in human life. There is an undesirable preponderance of the lat- ter even in the highest civilizations and the spir- itists are trying to add to it, and to enhance its value by maintaining that it is the true reality thinking. If true scientists did the corresponding thing they too would be maintaining that in reality thinking was your only true phantasy, but I have yet to see them doing that. No one with clear vision doubts the value of phantasy if it does not try to disguise itself as absolute and literal truth. Its value in art of all types is unquestioned. It produces poems, pic- tures, symphonies and altruistic conduct and is one of the legitimate expressions of emotion and the necessary employments of man's excess energies. Only let it not attempt to control the reality prin- ciple of conscious thought or to offer itself as proof of things that really do not exist. The wish is for what is not. The wish is the ideal representation of the non-existent. When this non-existent comes into being the wish is automatically transferred to some other non-existent ideal. We might almost say to the psychical researchers : " Do not try so hard to prove what we believe. If you do, and we consequently know it, we shall have to find something else to believe, that we do not know." CHAPTER XI PRESENT STATUS § 1. The Medium's Material Reward About the present status of psychical research there is really little to be said. It is on the wrong track, looking for what does not exist, or could not be proved to exist, if it did. Mediums will be forth- coming in the future as they have in the past, and will refuse to be analysed because unconsciously they are aware of the unconscious deception that they innocently practise. If a medium, who is " taken up " by a coterie of rich men and knows that it will mean to him a fortune of several hun- dred thousand dollars, should allow himself to be analysed and let it be scientifically proved, as Miss X did, that all his messages were messages from his own unconscious storehouse of memory images, he would be a fool as the world goes. Yet he would really be doing more for science than are all the automatic writers and crystal gazers who are look- ing for proofs that their words and visions could not be the result of previous impressions on their nerve and brain substance. The material gains of mediumship are very great. Not only are the subjective and the objective ego augmented in general but in particular the social position of the medium himself is greatly advanced. 325 326 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT Take for example the famous medium Daniel Hume, or Home, whose history is so well told in The New Spiritualism. His gifts gave him entrance into the best European society and finally settled him per- manently in a comfortable English estate, after which he ceased his performances. Similarly with all the mediums who have been taken up by culti- vated circles in this country and in England. There will always be a great demand for these sensitives as long as there are people who will be- lieve in spiritism. It is not the mediums who make the spiritists. The spiritists evoke the medium. § 2. Physical Manifestations And as for the physical manifestations we shall have to say that we have not proved them yet, sci- entifically. They fall into two groups, the levita- tions, re-percussions, apports and materializations supposed to be mediated via special persons, and the manifestations said by some to have been re- ceived through physical apparatus, entirely inde- pendent of human control, such as those of Matla and Zaalberg van Zelst of Holland. The latter have not yet found scientific approval. Announce- ment has been made that Thomas A. Edison is working on apparatus for the same purpose. The former are, as has already been hinted before in this book, without the complication of that type of false perception consisting of the association of the reality feeling with the mental images of the vari- ous senses, chiefly sight, hearing and touch, an PRESENT STATUS 327 association greatly facilitated by the darkness and quiet of the seance. They are the only ones that jvould have any scientific value, but they have as yet produced nothing. §3. What is ''Spirit''? As far as science today knows, spirit is nothing. There is no such thing to be revealed as a force operating from without upon real things with any- thing more like human intelligence than the swell- ing of water before it becomes ice. We might well say why should there be? By the " use '' of spirits what end would be gained in a universe so admir- ably, as far as we can see it, operating according to absolutely universal and rigid laws? Would spirits be able any the better to regulate the human body than the laws which do regulate it now? But we know quite well, not why should there be spirits, but why people imagine there are spirits and in just what originates the development of the belief in spirits and in immortality, and knowing what we do, we might well resent the interpolation of spirit into a perfectly well ordered cosmos. The only object of " spirit " is to break those laws governing Nature, for the benefit of the individual when the laws hurt him. It is quite like poetic justice that the main object of the psychical re- searcher is to try to show the breaks in the even working of the laws of the universe carefully dem- onstrated by science as it continues calmly and steadily its even course laid out for it according 328 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT to the reality principle. But psychical research has never found anything like a break in those uni- versal reasons which I trust I have made plain. Science is not looking for such breaks, and is not likely to find them. § 4. Quality of Content A word should be added about the quality of the content of the spiritistic messages. Not only are .they trivial and without the remotest resemblance to the grandeur of thought of the bibles of the world which contain the phantasy of the races backed by the claim of authoritative inspiration ; not only have they in every instance failed to give what would be the most desired by humans, and have besides criticized the questioners for wanting it ; not only do they represent in general the worst utterances of the medium's unconscious mind, where the " inspired " writings of all nations and races have given the best expression to the ever- lasting urge; but it is possible in these spiritistic communications to detect the mercenary, the quib- bling, the fencing, the indirection of a wild attempt to guess out what will please the hearer, without any attempt whatever to gain true breadth of vision and nobility of thought. In this the contrast is such that in the purely phantastic literature as distinguished from the actual scientific report of facts, we find a wealth of imagination and pathos and humour that would have to be equalled if not surpassed by the utter- PKESENT STATUS 329 anees of the mediums, if we were to regard them as having any true emotional value. The frank ex- pressions of phantasy seen in all forms of art have a virtue and a strength of their own and perform an undeniable social service, whether or not they bear the imprimatur of an authoritative inspira- tion, but from the entire body of results of spirit- istic utterance such value is completely lacking. And the attempts to gain the imprimatur of science for the unconscious utterances of second- rate minds have resulted only in the impartial and broad-minded observer being repelled by the material produced and, for any enjoyment of the phantastic, which in all people is legitimate enough, driven to the old artistic paths of litera- ture, painting, sculpture, music and poetry. Yet, for the deliverances of the spiritistic medium to have the same or greater value for modern social advancement, they would have to present some- thing that would rank with or above the works of Homer, Vergil, Dante, Shakespeare, Michel Angelo, Phidias, Beethoven. How can humanity " on this fair mountain leave to feed and batten on this moor, " unless they are, as I have elsewhere inti- mated, impelled thereto by fear? Besides the trivial, ignoble and otherwise repel- lent content of the volume after volume of collected utterances of mediums, the spiritists themselves warn against bad or dangerous messages. But we should be no more surprised or terrified by the evil that comes out of the unconscious via the medium 330 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT than that which comes into the consciousness of the world in daily acts of violence and hate, if only they both be recognized as coming from ex- actly the same source. If, on the other hand, we were forced to believe that the " bad '^ messages were caused by " evil spirits," we should certainly be unhappily situated ; we should be in a fair way to become terrorized by the thought of what would happen if the evil ones gained the upper hand in ourselves or in the world at large. The " evil " messages are however only an object of pity and ridicule when they are recognized as merely the dejecta of an individual's unconscious mind, and no more important for human welfare, or able to do it harm than the ashes dropping from a grate. If, then, the ouija board and the crystal and the other paraphernalia tap the lower levels of a single person's unconscious, the dregs therefrom issuing are to be regarded only as curiosities and of no vital import unless they accumulate like rub- bish and cause disease. Only if we attribute to these " messages," be they comforting or distress- ing, an origin in a mysterious " spirit " world will they appear to us as having any importance or power over our lives. But the attributing of any sort of power to the stratum of mind producing these results would be most illogical in itself, even if there were not other much more valid reasons, mentioned elsewhere in this volume, for turning from these products of the mind's lower levels to others much more valuable and constructive. PRESENT STATUS 331 § 5. Infantility in Civilised Spirit World From the fact that the primitive mind projects its unconscious wishes into the external world and says, though it makes no attempt to prove, that there are spirits there that work in accord with his own wishes; we should be inclined to suppose that the variety of spirits that he imagines inhabiting river, tree and mountain, and that he imagines liv- ing after death in some Valhalla, or Paradise or happy hunting ground, would be an infantile va- riety of spirits manifesting infantile characteristics, because the act of projection itself is an infantile act, in comparison with the more adult attitude implied in the reality principle. The pleasure- \ pain principle on which the mechanism of projec- tion works is infantile and itself characteristic of an infantile state of mind, while only the truly adult can be governed solely by the reality princi- ple in all his thinking. But the world in which, in the view of the primi- tive mind, his spirits live, is a truly adult world, adult, that is, as far as his experience goes. The pleasures which he imagines will be his, after he has departed this life, are all those of adults in primitive society, mating and fighting and hunt- ing and feasting. On the other hand the pleasures imagined by a large part of present day civilized humanity are those which were the pleasures of childhood before the individual became adult. They consist mostly J 332 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT of the exaltation of the father, and represent the relation between father and children as of the time before there was any conflict between the younger and the older generation. Heaven of the modern civilized world is where there is absolute respect for the father, a state of mind which rep- resents the early condition of the child. This difference is due to the very early maturing of primitive man and the very late maturing of civilized man. The prolongation of the infancy period in civilized society has long been a matter of comment. A modem philosopher has noted that an ancient Greek philosopher also called at- tention to it. The prolongation of infancy is re- garded, and rightly, as the basis on which civiliza- tion rests, as it gives a longer period during which the experience gathered by ancestors can be com- municated to their descendants, and only by means of this education can there be so complicated and closely interwoven a fabric of society as we have today. If the primitive instincts of animals and men are allowed full expression, the result is a continual warfare until the weaker is beaten. One of these is the instinct of the male to remove all other males in sight and appropriate all the females in the flock. This is an instinct making for survival of the fittest, because it guarantees the females all being impregnated by the strongest male, result- ing in the improvement of the qualities of the stock. PKESENT STATUS 333 The primitive mental mechanism of projection working in minds of primitive people produces the adult theology and eschatology of the Happy Hunting Ground and the Valhalla. The same mechanism in the minds of people of highly civil- ized races produces an absolutely infantile the- ology. That is because the inborn instincts of men have been repressed. They have had to be re- pressed because in order to have neighbours to live with and to make possible various kinds of co-oper- ative activities producing and handling all sorts of commodities — in order to have neighbours, you have to let them live in the neighbourhood. This is how the mechanism of projection has worked in primitive and in complicated society. The result has been the increase of urban population, the de- pendence of people on each other, the evolution of huge social organisms and of the " red '' element. Alongside of the greater phenomena like these, '> spiritualism, as an attempt to give scientific proof \ to a thing quite phantastic is of course of very / slight relative importance. Of far greater impor- tance is it, I think, to give publicity as far as pos- sible to the actual causes why there has been so spontaneous and so persistent a belief in spirits on the one hand ; and, on the other, why the neces- sity was felt to prove scientifically their existence as intelligences and forces operating independently of matter. The wish for a proof is the direct result of the jear of death, — a conscious emotion which has been repressed into the unconscious. \ 334 MAN'S UNCONSCIOUS SPIRIT § 6. Reality Thinking The principle of reality thinking is the one on which all the triumphs of modern science rest, and it is to the credit of Mr. Thos. A. Edison, if cor- rectly reported in the American Magazine ^ that he conceives his experiments in truly scientific spirit of expecting nothing definitely, but is never- theless willing to accept nothing except as it is subject to experimental control, to accept nothing in other words, that has been produced so far. The reality principle has been that on which Mr. Edison has given us his many contributions to the convenience and pleasure of present day liv- ing, and on which all our present day material progress has been made. The fact that present /day civilization is as unsatisfactory as it is, that / it shows, indeed, immediate threats of completely I collapsing is, however, due to the enormous y potency in the minds of all men, of the pleasure- "^pain principle, that on which as Freud puts it, wishes are fulfilled on the hallucinatory path. This does not mean that conscious wishes are thus projected upon external reality as place names were hung on the back of the Elizabethan stage. Consciously we realize the vanity of human wishes. It is the unconscious wishes that the reality prin- ciple, working in the minds of psychoanalysts, has shown to be the element in modern society that, unless recognized and resymbolized, and not re- lOct., 1920. PRESENT STATUS 335 pressed, will cause even the greatest works of man both physical and mental to come to naught. It is therefore the most urgent need of the present day that those qualified for research in the unconscious shall be given the greatest possible help and encouragement. Only by seeing and using the enormous power of the unconscious wish can we really attain any civilization worthy of the name, or a civilization that will endure more than a few brief centuries. The unconscious holds the key not only to the explanation of the "phe- nomena " of spiritism but of the explanation of all the phenomena of present day existence, and is the only key which will unlock the door to a digni- fied and worthy social life in the future. THE END I o . .. > ' ^"■"'^)^^ K^ ^1 ^ « ^ I ^ v.^ -^ '-^% / r INDEX Accidents, 121 Ambivalence, 265 Animism, 168 Barker, Elsa, 315 Belief, 247 and Wish, 259, 307 Compulsion, 271 Conflict, 63 Conscious Psychology, 114 Consciousness, Complexity of, 44, 99 Narrowing of, 291 Stream of, 1 Death, Fear of, 248 Deja Vue, 26 Emotions, 56, 204 Fear, 65, 216, 248 Feeling of Reality, 20, 178, 294 detachable, 47 Sameness, 25 Feelings are Sensations, 31 and Emotions, 42 Fission and Fusion, 136 Hallucinations, 39 Infantility, 331 Introjection, 161 Magnification, 130 Meaning, 22 Mechanisms, 147 of Reading, 182 Medium, 86, 325 Memory, 266 Unconscious, 157 Miracles, 190 Neurotic, 268 Occurrence, 107 Panorama, 36 Personality, 153 Phantasy, 321 Pleasure-pain Principle, 240 Postural Tonus, 202 Projection. 165. 173 . rsycnical Research, 286 Psychoanalysis, 73 Reading Mechanisms, 182 Reality, Degrees of, 23 Feeling of, 20, 34, 171 and Images, 41 Thinking, 176, 178, 334 Reassociation, 106 Repression, 78, 207, 209 Resistance to Knowledge, 93 Sadistic Wish, 260 Sameness, Feeling of, 25 "Spirit," 275 Spiritism and War, 263 Stoics, 213 Taboo, 271 Telepathy, 237 Totem, 273 Transference, 195 Unconscious an Hypothesis, 117 as an Urge, 93 Emotions, 201 Ideas and Feelings, 101 Memory, 157 Omnipercipient, 139 Perceptions, 181 Trends, 87 Will, 201, 232 Wishes, 143 War, 263 Will, 219 337 Tir ui 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED EDUCATION-PSYCHOLOGY Th LIBRARY This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. 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