Footnote 75:
Pierre Janet: L’automatisme psychologique, Paris, 1889, and numerous
other works.
Footnote 76:
Not included in this volume.
Footnote 77:
Cf. Prince: The Dissociation; also A Symposium on the Subconscious,
_Journal of Abnormal Psychology_, June-July, 1907; Experiments to
Determine Coconscious (Subconscious) Ideation, _Journal of Abnormal
Psychology_, April-May, 1908; Experiments in Psycho-Galvanic Reactions
from Coconscious (Subconscious) Ideas in a Case of Multiple
Personality, _Journal of Abnormal Psychology_, June-July, 1908; The
Subconscious [_Rapports et Comptes Rendus, 6me Congrès International
de Psychologie_, 1909]; also, My Life as a Dissociated Personality, by
B. C. A., _Journal of Abnormal Psychology_, October-November, 1908.
Footnote 78:
The value of subconscious personalities for this purpose has been
overlooked, owing, I suppose, to such conditions being unusual and
bizarre, and the assumption that they have little in common with
ordinary subconscious processes. But it ought to be obvious that _in
principle_ it makes little difference whether a subconscious system is
constellated into a large self-conscious system called a personality,
or whether it is restricted to a system limited to a few particular
coconscious ideas. In the former case the possibilities of its
interfering with the personal consciousness may be more extended and
more influential, that is all.
Footnote 79:
Of course, from a practical (clinical) point of view, it is of no
consequence whether given phenomena are induced by coconscious or
unconscious processes; the individual is not aware of either. Let me
answer, however, a strange objection that has been made to such an
inquiry. It has been objected that as it makes no practical difference
whether the subconscious process, which induces a given phenomenon, is
coconscious or unconscious, and as in many given cases it is difficult
or impossible to determine the question, therefore, that such
inquiries are useless. Plainly such an objection only concerns applied
science, not science itself. It concerns only the practicing physician
who deals solely with reactions. Likewise it makes no difference to
the practicing chemist whether some atoms are positive and some
negative ions, and whether on further analysis they are systems of
electrons, and whether, again, electrons are points of electricity.
The practical chemist deals only with reactions. Such questions,
however, having to do with the ultimate nature of matter are of the
highest interest to science. Likewise the nature of subconscious
processes is of the highest interest to psychological science.
Footnote 80:
I have passed over the classical hysterical phenomena as they open a
very large subject which needs a special treatment by itself. The
subconscious processes underlying them, so far as they have been
determined, are, as I have explained, admittedly coconscious, though
some may be in part unconscious. They are too complicated to be
entered into here.
Footnote 81:
Prince: Experiments to Determine Coconscious (Subconscious) Ideation,
_Journal of Abnormal Psychology_, April-May, 1908.
Footnote 82:
Among these I might mention the names of a dozen or more well-known
psychologists and physicians of experience and repute who have
observed one or both of these cases. Through the kindness of Dr. G. A.
Waterman I have had an opportunity to investigate a third case, one of
his patients, who described similar coconscious “pictures”
accompanying certain impulsive conscious acts. The pictures, when of
persons, were described as “life size,” and were likened to those of a
cinematograph. Also, as with one of my cases, suggested post-hypnotic
actions were accompanied by such coconscious pictures representing in
successive stages the act to be performed. An analysis of both the
impulsive and the suggested phenomena seemed to clearly show that the
pictures emerged from a deeper lying submerged process induced by the
residuum of a dream and of the suggestion, respectively.
Footnote 83:
Cf. Lecture IV. These coconscious pictures are so varied and occur in
so many relations that they need to be studied by themselves.
Footnote 84:
This, of course, so far as she could determine from the data of
memory. The more correct interpretation probably is that the thoughts
of the “secondary consciousness” were supplied by a still deeper
underlying subconscious process, certain elements of which emerged as
dissociated conscious states (not in the focus of attention). This
same process probably was the real agent in doing the actual
translation, and later thrust the necessary data into awareness in
such fashion that the translation seemed to be performed consciously.
If all the required data is supplied to consciousness the problem is
thereby done.
Footnote 85:
The subject here, of course, refers not to experimental but to
spontaneous solutions. When experimentally performed the whole problem
was solved subconsciously. Furthermore, a memory of a detail of this
kind of remote experiences obviously would not be reliable, but only
immediately after an experience. In fact, spontaneous solutions
sometimes occurred entirely subconsciously. (Cf. Lecture VII.) In the
experimental calculation experiments the solution is made
subconsciously in accordance with the prescribed conditions of the
experiment. In other observations on this subject the coconscious
pictures represented past experiences of the subject, much as do
crystal visions, and suggest that these past experiences were
functioning unconsciously.
Footnote 86:
Prince: Some of the Present Problems of Abnormal Psychology, Congress
of Arts and Sciences, St. Louis, 1904, V. 5, p. 770.
Footnote 87:
Practically similar conditions I have found in B. C. A., and Miss B.,
though described by the subjects in different phraseology.
Footnote 88:
For instance, to take a sensational example, on one occasion in the
midst of hilarity while singing, laughing, etc., she suddenly became
depressed and burst into tears. What happened was this: It was a
sorrowful anniversary, and in the “lower stratum” sad memories had
been recurring during the period of hilarity. These memories had come
into consciousness early in the morning, but she had resolutely put
them out of her mind. They had, however, kept recurring in the lower
stratum, and suddenly emerged into the upper stratum of consciousness
with the startling effect described. More commonly, however, the
emergence of the lower stratum is simply a shifting play of thought.
It is interesting to note that censored thoughts and temptations are
apt to go into the lower stratum and here with their affects continue
at play. _These sometimes reappear as dreams._
Footnote 89:
The validity of the evidence of memory as applied to subconscious
processes needs to be carefully weighed. It is a question of method,
and if the method is fallacious all conclusions fall to the ground. In
the sciences of normal psychology and psychiatry and psychopathology,
the data given by memory are and necessarily must be relied upon to
furnish a knowledge of the content of mental processes and the mental
symptoms, and all methods of psychological analysis are based on the
data of memory. Without such data there could be no such sciences. As
a matter of experience the method is found to be reliable when
properly checked by multiple observations. If by special methods of
technique mental processes, which do not enter the awareness of the
moment, are later brought into consciousness as data of memory, are
these data _per contra_ to be rejected as hallucinatory? This is what
their rejection would mean. Now, as a fact, there are phenomena, like
coconscious personalities, which compel the postulation of coconscious
processes. If this is the case, if there are coconscious processes
which do not enter awareness, it would be the strangest thing if there
were not conditions of the personality in which a memory of these
processes could be obtained. This fact would have to be explained. The
bringing of coconscious processes into consciousness as data of memory
does not seem therefore to be anything _a priori_ improbable and there
would seem to be no reason why the memory of them should be more
unreliable than that of conscious processes in the forms of attention.
Indeed, if the fringe of consciousness be regarded as coconscious, it
is an every-day act common to everybody. Such data necessarily should
be checked up by multiple observations.
Footnote 90:
For examples of this kind, see Prince, Experiments to Determine
Coconscious Ideation, _Journal of Abnormal Psychology_, April-May,
1908.
Footnote 91:
The Dissociation, pp. 55, 56.
Footnote 92:
It is only necessary to close one’s eyes, then grimace and move one’s
limbs to become conscious of these secondary images which picture each
movement of the features, etc.
Footnote 93:
The mechanism is probably not quite so simple as this, probably past
visual perceptions of self and the environment took part, so that the
vision was a fusion or composite of these older primary images and the
secondary images. The principle of mechanism, however, would not be
affected by this added element. Sidis (The Doctrine of Primary and
Secondary Sensory Elements, _Psych. Rev._, January-March, 1908) has
maintained that all hallucinations are the emerging of the secondary
images of previous perceptions. If, on the other hand, the vision be
interpreted as something fabricated by the subconscious process—as
must be the case with some hallucinations—then this process must have
been much more complicated than memory. Something akin at least to
constructive imagination and intelligence that translated the
experiences into visual terms.
Footnote 94:
That is to say, as described by the visualizer.
Footnote 95:
Cf. The Dissociation, pp. 211-220.
Footnote 96:
At this point the subject watching the vision remarked, “I drop one of
the letters, but I do not know I have done so.” In other words,
conscious of the content of the somnambulist’s consciousness, the
visualizer knows that there is no awareness of this act. The letter
was afterward found by the servant on the stairs.
Footnote 97:
Coconscious ideas may provoke hallucinations. (For examples consult
“Hallucinations” in Index to The Dissociation.)
LECTURE VII
SUBCONSCIOUS INTELLIGENCE
(Continued)
III. _Subconscious intelligence underlying spontaneous
hallucinations._—Spontaneous hallucinations often offer opportunities to
study subconscious processes exhibiting constructive intelligence.
Although properly belonging to clinical phenomena, they often can be so
clearly related to an antecedent experience as to allow us to determine
the causal factor with the same exactness as in the experimental type,
and, therefore, to infer the connecting subconscious link with equal
probability. Some of these spontaneous visions indicate that the
subconscious link must be of considerable complexity and equivalent to
logical processes of reasoning, volition, and purposive intelligence.
Sometimes the same subconscious processes which fabricate the vision
determine also other processes of conscious thought and movements.
In illustration I may cite an incident in the life of Miss B., which I
have previously described:
“Miss B., as a child, frequently had visions of the Madonna and
Christ, and used to believe that she had actually seen them. It was
her custom when in trouble, if it was only a matter of her school
lessons, or something that she had lost, to resort to prayer. Then she
would be apt to have a vision of Christ. The vision never spoke, but
sometimes made signs to her, and the expression of His face made her
feel _that all was well_. After the vision passed she felt that her
difficulties were removed, and if it was a bothersome lesson which she
had been unable to understand it all became intelligible at once. Or,
if it was something that she had lost, _she at once went to the spot
where it was_.”... [For example, while under observation.] "Miss B.
had lost a bank check and was much troubled concerning it. For five
days she had made an unsuccessful hunt for it, systematically going
through everything in her room. She remembered distinctly placing the
check between the leaves of a book, when some one knocked at her door,
and this was the last she saw of the check. She had become very much
troubled about the matter, and in consequence, after going to bed that
night she was unable to sleep, and rose several times to make a
further hunt. Finally, at 3 o’clock in the morning, she went to bed
and fell asleep. At 4 o’clock she woke with the consciousness of a
presence in the room. She arose, and in a moment saw a vision of
Christ, who did not speak, but smiled. She at once felt, as she used
to, _that everything was well_, and that the vision foretold that she
should find the check. All her anxiety left her at once. The figure
retreated toward the bureau, but the thought flashed into her mind
that the lost check was in the drawer of her desk. A search, however,
showed that it was not there. She then walked automatically to the
bureau, opened the top drawer, took out some stuff upon which she had
been sewing, unfolded it, and there was the check along with one or
two other papers.
“Neither Miss B. nor BII [hypnosis] has any memory of any specific
thought which directed her to open the drawer and take out her sewing,
nor of any conscious idea that the check was there. Rather, she did
it, so far as her consciousness goes, automatically, as she used to do
automatic writing.”[98]
Further investigation revealed the fact that the money had been put away
absent-mindedly and “unconsciously”; in hypnosis the memory of this act
was recovered.
In this observation we have two so-called automatic phenomena of
different types—one a sensory automatism, the vision, the other a motor
automatism or actions leading to the finding of the money. The motor
acts being automatic were necessarily determined by subconscious
processes and plainly required a knowledge of the hiding-place. This
knowledge also plainly must have been conserved in the unconscious and
now, in answer to her wish to find the lost money, acting as a
subconscious process, fulfilled her wish in a practical way.
The vision was of Christ smiling. Seeing it the subject at once “felt
that all was well,” and her anxiety vanished. It was plainly therefore a
fabricated visual symbolism though one which she had frequently before
experienced. It may be taken as a message sent by subconscious processes
to her anxious consciousness and it is not too much to say had a
purposive meaning, viz., to allay her anxiety. The question is, What was
the causal factor which determined this symbolism? Logically it is a
compulsory inference that the same conserved knowledge and subconscious
processes, which eventuated in the motor automatisms, must have been the
causal factor that determined the visual symbolism which carried the
reassuring message to consciousness. This subconscious knowledge first
allayed her anxiety and then proceeded to answer her problem of the
whereabouts of the lost money. More specifically, the primary causal
factor was the preceding anxious wish to find the money; the resulting
phenomena were the sensory and motor automatisms, allaying the anxiety
and fulfilling the wish; _between the two as connecting links were
subconscious processes of an intelligent, purposive, volitional
character which first fabricated a visual symbolism as a message to
consciousness and then made use of the conserved knowledge of her
previous absent-minded act to solve her problem_. The subconscious
process as a whole we thus see was of quite a complicated character. In
this example it is impossible to determine from the data at hand whether
the subconscious process was coconscious or unconscious.
The observation which I have elsewhere described as “an hallucination
from the subconscious”[99] is an excellent example of an intelligent
subconscious process indicative of judgment and purpose. The
hallucination occurred in my presence as a result of an antecedent
experience for which I was a moment before responsible. It was therefore
of the nature of an experiment and the causal factor was known. The
antecedent experience consisted of certain remarks and behavior of the
subject while under the influence of an illusion during a dissociated
state for which there was subsequent amnesia. The vision was of a friend
whose face was sad, as of one who had been injured, and seemed to
reproach her. At the same moment she heard his voice which said, “How
could you have betrayed me?” The hallucinatory words and the visual
image were in no sense a reproduction of the causal, i.e., antecedent,
experience. They were the expression of a _subconscious self-reproach_
in consequence of that experience. This reproach connoted a subconscious
belief or logical judgment, drawn from the experience, that she had
broken a promise.[100] It was a subconscious reaction to a subconscious
belief. I say both the reproach and the judgment were subconscious
because, in the dissociated state, owing to the illusion, and in the
normal after-state owing to the amnesia, she was entirely ignorant of
having done anything that could be construed into breaking a promise.
This interpretation of the episode must therefore have been entirely
subconscious. The self-reproach emerged into consciousness but
translated into visual and auditory hallucinations. These were plainly a
condemnatory message sent from the subconscious to the personal
consciousness and might aptly be termed “the prickings of a subconscious
conscience.” The primary causal factor was simply certain statements
(conserved in the unconscious) made to me by the subject and for which
afterwards there was amnesia. Intervening between this antecedent
experience and the resulting hallucinatory phenomena a subconscious
process must be postulated as a necessary connecting link. This process
plainly involved memory and an intelligent judgment, an emotional
reaction, and an expression of this judgment and reaction translated
into hallucinatory phenomena. Apparently also a distinct purpose to
upbraid the personality was manifested.
The accounts of _sudden religious conversion_ are full of instances of
hallucinations occurring at the time of the “crisis” and these—visions
and voices—are often logical symbolisms of antecedent thoughts of the
subject. By analogy with similar experimental phenomena we are compelled
to interpret them in the same way and postulate these antecedent
experiences as the causal factors. If this postulation is sound then the
connecting subconscious link is often a quite complicated process of an
intelligent character.
In one instance in which the occurrence was similar in principle to
sudden religious conversion I was able to determine beyond question the
causal antecedents of the hallucinatory phenomenon. I will not repeat
the details here;[101] suffice it to say that the hallucination,
consisting of a vision and an auditory message from the subject’s
deceased husband (see p. 40), answered the doubts and scruples with
which the subject had been previously tormented. It was a logical answer
calculated to allay distressing memories against which she had been
fighting, “the old ideas of dissatisfaction with life, the feelings of
injury, bitterness, and rebellion against fate and the ‘kicking against
the pricks’ which these memories evoked.” It expressed previously
entertained ideas which she had tried to accept but without success. The
exposition of this answer in the _hallucinatory symbolism_ required a
subconscious process involving considerable reasoning. _The phenomenon
as a whole was a message addressed to her own consciousness by
subconscious processes to answer her doubts and anxious questionings of
herself, and to settle the conflict going on in her mind._ The logical
connection between the different elements of this hallucination and
certain antecedent experiences which had harassed the subject are so
close that there is no room left for doubting that these experiences
were the causal factors. And so I might analyze a large number of
spontaneous hallucinations wherein you would find the same evidence for
subconscious processes _showing intelligent constructive imagination,
reasoning, volition, and purposive effort_, and expressing themselves in
automatisms which either solve a disturbing problem or carry to fruition
a subconscious purpose.
I offer no excuse for multiplying these observations of hallucinatory
phenomena, even at the expense of tedious repetition, for such studies
give an insight into the mechanism of the hallucinations met with in the
insanities and other pathological states. They offer, too, an insight
into the basic process involved in dreams as these are a type of
hallucinatory phenomena. It is by a study of hallucinations
experimentally created, and others where we are in a position to know
the causal factors, that we can learn the mechanisms underlying similar
phenomena occurring in normal pathological conditions. As a rule in the
latter conditions it is difficult to determine beyond question the true
causal factors and, therefore, the particular subconscious processes
involved. Such phenomena as I have presented justify the conclusion of
the “new psychology” that the _hallucinations of the insane_ are not
haphazard affairs but the resultant of subconscious processes evoked by
antecedent experiences. In conclusion, then, we may say that _in
artificial hallucinations as experimentally conducted, and in certain
spontaneous hallucinations, we have two known factors; the causal factor
(the antecedent experience) and the hallucinatory phenomenon—the effect.
Intervening between the two is an inferred subconscious process of
considerable complexity which is required to explain the causal
connection_. With the exact mechanism of hallucinatory phenomena we are
not at present concerned, but only with the evidence of the actuality of
a subconscious process, of its character as an intelligence, and with
its intrinsic nature.
As to the last problem it is plain that further investigations are
required and that the methods at present at our disposal for its
solution leave much to be desired. All things considered a conservative
summing up would be that the subconscious process may be both
coconscious and unconscious.
IV. _Subconscious intelligence underlying dreams._ As is well known,
Freud advanced the theory, now well fortified by numerous observations
of others, that underlying a dream is a subconscious process which
fabricates the conscious dream. According to Freud and his followers
this subconscious process is always an antecedent wish and the dream is
an imaginary fulfillment of that wish. This part of the theory (as well
as the universality of an underlying process) is decidedly questionable.
My own observations lead me to believe that a dream may be also the
expression of antecedent doubts, scruples, anxieties, etc., or may be an
answer to an unsolved problem. We need not concern ourselves with this
particular question here. I refer to it simply to point out that its
correct solution depends upon the correct determination of the true
causal factor which is necessarily antecedently unknown and must be
inferred. It is inferred or selected from the associated memories evoked
by the so-called method of analysis. Hence it must be always an element
open to greater or less doubt. _Dreams are a type of hallucinatory
phenomena_ and therefore we should expect that their mechanism would
correspond more or less closely with that of other hallucinatory
phenomena.
With the object in view of determining whether a dream could be produced
_experimentally_ and brought within the category of phenomena where the
causal factor was antecedently known, and thus determine the actuality
of a subconscious process as a necessary intervening link between the
two, I made the following experiment. It should be noted that a wish
_fulfilment_ necessarily means a dream content so far different in form
from the content of the _wish itself_ that the postulation of a
connecting link, conscious or subconscious, is required. I also sought,
if a subconscious process could be postulated, to discover how elaborate
and what sort of a work of constructive imagination a subconscious wish
could evolve.
To a suitable subject while in a deep hypnotic trance state I gave a
suggestion in the form of a wish to be worked out to fulfilment in a
dream. It so happened that this subject was going through a period of
stress and strain for which she sought relief. I also knew that she had
a very strong desire to do a good piece of original psychological work
and had advised her to take up the work as a solution of her
difficulties. So, taking advantage of this desire, I impressed upon her,
for the purpose of emphasizing the impulsive force of the desire, that
she now had the longed-for opportunity as the culmination of her
previous years of training to do the work. I then gave her the following
suggestion: “You want to do a good piece of original work and your dream
to-night will be the fulfillment of the wish.” No hint as to what form
the dream fulfilment should take was given, nor had she any knowledge
before being put into the trance state that I intended to make an
experiment.
It is interesting to note how the dream has a logical form which is
unfolded as an argument. This itself is an allegorical transcript of the
reasons previously suggested to her for the particular solution of her
problem.
The dream was a long one and into it were logically introduced as a part
of the argument the actual distressing circumstances for the relief of
which I had advised taking up the piece of psychological work as an
outlet to her feelings and solution of her problem of life. I will give
in detail only so much of the dream as contains the wish fulfilment
(which became also a part of the dream argument), summarizing the
remainder. The dream begins with an allegorical description of the great
task involved in the study of psychology by all the workers of the
world. The science of psychology is symbolized by a temple. “I dreamed I
was where they were building a great temple or cathedral; an enormous
place covering many acres of ground. Hundreds of men were building. Some
were building spires, some were building foundations, and some were
tearing down what they had built, some parts had fallen down of
themselves. I was wandering around looking on.” Then she proceeds to
help one of the builders who was building a particular part of the
temple by bringing him material in the form of stones. This she had
actually done, in real life, contributing much psychological material
out of her own experiences. Many of these experiences had been very
intimate ones from her inner life and had involved much suffering; hence
the stones which she contributed in her dream were big and heavy and
were beyond her strength to carry, so that she could only roll them,—and
some were sharp and made her hands bleed, so that her contribution
involved much suffering. This part of the dream was not only a prelude
to the suggested wish fulfilment but, as interpreted, contained a wish
fulfilment in itself.
Then there was interjected an allegorical but very accurate description
of the distressing circumstances to which I have referred and for which,
as a problem of life, the suggested work was advised as a solution. Then
logically followed the wish fulfilment and solution. She heard the voice
of the builder whom she had been helping say to her, “‘Now, here are all
the materials and you must build a temple of your own,’ and I [she]
said, ‘I cannot,’ and he said, ‘you can, and I will help you.’ So I
began to build the stones I had taken him. It was hard work, but I kept
on, and a most beautiful temple grew up.... All the stones were very
brilliant in color, but each one was stained with a drop of blood that
came from a wound in my heart. And the temple grew up; and I handled all
the stones; but somehow the temple grew up of itself and lots of people
were coming from all directions to look at it, and someone, who seemed
to be William James, said, ‘It is the most valuable part of the temple,’
and I felt very proud....’” After another interjection of the
distressing problem of her life just alluded to, the dream ends with the
figure of “a beautiful shining angel with golden spreading wings and the
word ‘Hope’ written on his forehead.” This figure “spread his lovely
wings and rose right up through the temple and became the top of the
spire, a gorgeous shining figure of Hope.”[102]
After this dream was obtained the subject, who had no knowledge that any
suggestion had been given to induce the dream, was told to analyze the
dream herself by the method of associative memories. As is customary in
the use of this method, in which she had had considerable experience,
the memories associated with each element of the dream were obtained.
These memories all led back directly to her interest in psychology and
desire to contribute some original work, and to her own life’s
experiences. Every one of the dream-elements (temple, spires,
foundations, stones, bleeding hands, drop of blood from the wound in her
heart, etc.) evoked associative memories which justified the inference
that these elements were symbolisms of past experiences or of
constructive imagination.
That this dream was determined by, and the explicit imaginary fulfilment
of the antecedent wish made use of in the experiment and motivated by
the suggestion would seem to be conclusively shown.
If, then, in any case a causal relation between an antecedent wish and
its dream fulfilment exists, it follows that there must be some link
between that wish experienced in the past and the present dream
fulfilment, some mode, mechanism, or process by which a past thought,
without entering consciousness, can continue to its own fulfilment in a
conscious work of the imagination, the dream. I say without entering
consciousness because the original specific thought-wish does not appear
in the dream consciousness, which is only the fulfilment. The phenomenon
as a whole is also inexplicable unless there was some motivating factor
or force which determined the form of the dream just as in conscious
fabrication and argument “we” consciously motivate and arrange the form
of the product. The only logical and intelligible inference is that the
_original wish_, becoming reawakened (by the preceding suggestion)
during sleep, _continued to function outside of the dream consciousness,
as a motivating and directing subconscious process_.
But what was the content of this process, and to what extent can its
elements be correlated with those of the dream? The experimental data of
this dream do not afford an answer to this question. (Those of the
observation I shall next give will permit a deeper insight into the
character and content of their process.) It is a reasonable inference,
however, inasmuch as the different elements of the dream—temple, stones,
etc., the material out of which it is constructed—are found to be
logical symbolizations of their associative memories, that these
memories took part in the subconscious process and consequently may be
correlated with their dream-symbols. In other words the content of the
subconscious process was more than a wish, or wish neurogram, it
included a large complex of memories of diverse experiences that can be
recognized through their symbolizations in the dream. This complex,
motivated by a particular wish, fabricated the dream, just as in the
hallucinations I have cited an underlying process fabricated the
hallucination as a symbolic expression of a subconscious judgment,
self-reproach, etc. To do this a process that must be termed a
_subconscious intelligence_ was required. The dream was an allegory, a
product of constructive imagination in the logical form of an argument,
and if constructed by an underlying process the latter must have had the
same characteristics.[103]
This experimental dream confirms therefore the general principle
formulated by Freud from the analysis of dreams in which the causal
factor is an inferred wish. It is likewise on the assumption of my
having correctly inferred this factor that I have insisted that a dream
may be a fabricated expression of thoughts other than wishes or may be
the solution of an unsolved problem. In this last case _the dream
phenomena and mechanism seem to be analogous in every way to the
subconscious solution of mathematical problems_ which I have already
described. In such and other cases the subconscious process would seem
to be a continuation and elaboration of the antecedent suggested
problem.
In dreams, then, or, as we should strictly limit ourselves for the
present to saying, _in certain dreams_, there are, as Freud first
showed, two processes; one is the conscious dream, the other is a
subconscious process which is the actuated residuum of a previous
experience and determines the dream.[104] It would be going beyond the
scope of our subject to enter into a full exposition of this
interpretation at this time and I must refer you for a discussion of the
dream problem to works devoted to the subject.
We have not, of course, touched the further problem of the _How_: how a
subconscious intelligence induces a conscious dream which is not an
emergence of the elements of that intelligence into self-consciousness,
but a symbolization of them. This is a problem which still awaits
solution. From certain data at hand it seems likely that so far as
concerns the hallucinatory perceptual elements of a dream they can be
accounted for as the _emergence of the secondary images_ pertaining to
the subconscious “ideas.”
The following observation is an _example of subconscious versification
and_ also of _constructive imagination_. It also, I think, gives an
insight into the character and content of the underlying process which
constructs a dream. I give the observation in the subject’s own words:
"I woke suddenly some time between three and four in the morning. I
was perfectly wide awake and conscious of my surroundings but for a
short time—perhaps two or three minutes—I could not move, and I saw
this vision which I recognized as such.
"The end of my room seemed to have disappeared, and I looked out into
boundless space. It looked misty but bright, as if the sun was shining
behind a light fog. There were shifting wisps of fog blowing lightly
about, and these wisps seemed to gather into the forms of a man and a
woman. The figures were perfectly clear and lifelike—I recognized them
both. The man was dressed in dark every-day clothes, the woman in
rather flowing black; her face was partly hidden on his breast; one
arm was laid around his neck; both his arms were around her, and he
was looking down at her, smiling very tenderly. They seemed to be
surrounded by a sort of rosy atmosphere; a large, very bright star was
above their heads—not in the heavens, but just over them; tall rose
bushes heavy with red roses in full bloom grew up about them, and the
falling petals were heaped up around their feet. Then the man bent his
head and kissed her.
"The vision was extraordinarily clear and I thought I would write it
down at once. I turned on the light by my bedside, took pencil and
paper lying there and wrote, as I supposed, _practically what I have
written here_. I then got up, was up some minutes, went back to bed,
and after a while to sleep. The clock struck four soon after getting
back into bed. I do not think I experienced any emotion at the moment
of seeing the vision, but after writing it down I did.
"The next morning I picked up the paper to read over what I had
written and was amazed at the language and the rhythm. This is what I
had written:
"‘Last night I waked from sleep quite suddenly,
And though my brain was clear my limbs were tranced.
Beyond the walls of my familiar room
I gazed outward into luminous space.
Before my staring eyes two forms took shape,
Vague, shadowy, slowly gathering from the mists,
Until I saw before me, you—my Love!
And folded to your breast in close embrace
Was she, that other, whom I may not name.
A rosy light bathed you in waves of love;
Above your heads there shone a glowing star;
Red roses shed their leaves about your feet.
And as I gazed with eyes that could not weep
You bent your head and laid your lips on hers.
And my rent soul’ ... [Apparently unfinished.]
“The thoughts were the same as my conscious thoughts had been—the
vision was well described—but the language was entirely different from
anything I had thought, and the writing expressed the emotion which I
had not consciously experienced in seeing the vision, but which (I
have since learned) I had felt during the dream, and which I did
consciously feel _after_ writing. When I wrote I meant simply to state
the facts of the vision.”[105]
The subject was unable to give any explanation of the vision or of the
composition of the verse. She rarely remembers her dreams and had no
memory of any dream the night of this vision. By hypnotic procedure,
however, I was able to recover memories of a dream which occurred just
before she woke up. It appeared that in the dream she was wandering in a
great open space and saw this “picture in a thin mist. The mist seemed
to blow apart” and disclosed the “picture” which was identical with the
vision. At the climax of the dream picture the dreamer experienced an
intense emotion well described in the verse by the unfinished phrase,
“My rent soul...” The dreamer “shrieked, and fell on the ground on her
face, and grew cold from head to foot and waked up.”
The vision after waking, then, was a repetition of a preceding _dream_
vision and we may safely assume that it was fabricated by the same
underlying process which fabricated the dream, this process repeating
itself after waking.
So far the phenomenon was one which is fairly common. Now when we come
to examine the automatically written script we find it has a number of
significant characteristics. (1) It describes a conscious episode, (2)
As a literary effort for one who is not a poetical writer it is fairly
well written and probably quite as good verse as the subject can
consciously write; (3) It expresses the mental attitude, sentiments and
emotions experienced in the dream but not at the time of the vision.
_These had also been antecedent experiences_; (4) Both the central ideas
of the verse and the vision symbolically represented certain antecedent
presentiments of the future; (5) The script gives of the vision an
interpretation which was not consciously in mind at the moment of
writing.
Now, inasmuch as these sentiments and interpretations were not in the
conscious mind at the moment of writing, the script _suggests_ that the
process that wrote it was not simply a subconscious memory of the vision
but the same process which fabricated the dream. Indeed, the phenomenon
is open to the suspicion that this same process expresses the same ideas
in verbal symbolism as a substitution for the hallucinatory symbolism.
To determine this point, an effort was made to recover by technical
methods memories of this process; that is to determine what wrote the
verse and by what sort of a process. The following was brought out:
1. The script was written automatically. The subject thought she was
writing certain words and expressing certain thoughts and did not
perceive that she was writing different words. “Something seemed to
prevent her seeing the words she wrote.” There were two trains of
“thought.”
2. The “thoughts” of the verse were in her “subconscious mind.”[106]
These “thoughts” (also described as “words”) were not logically arranged
or as written in the verse, but “sort of tumbled together—mixed up a
little.” “They were not like the thoughts one thinks in _composing_ a
verse.” There did not seem to be any attempt at selection from the
thoughts or words. No evidence could be elicited to show that the
composing was done here.
3. Concurrently with these subconscious, mixed-up thoughts coconscious
“images” of the words of the verse came just at the moment of writing
them down. The images were bright, printed words. Sometimes one or two
words would come at a time and sometimes a whole line.
In other words all happened _as if_ there was a deeper underlying
process which did the composing and from this process certain thoughts
without logical order emerged to form a subconscious stream and after
the composing was done the words of the verse emerged as coconscious
images as they were to be written. This underlying process, then,
“automatically” did the writing and the composing. Hence it seemed to
the subject even when remembering in hypnosis the subconscious thoughts
and images that both were done unconsciously.
As to whether this underlying process was the same as that which
fabricated the dream and the hallucination, the evidence, albeit
circumstantial, would seem to render this almost certain. In the first
place the verse was only a poetical arrangement of the subconscious
thoughts disclosed; the vision was an obvious symbolic expression or
visual representation of the same thoughts (that is, of course, of those
concerned with the subject matter of the vision). The only difference
would seem to be in the form of the expression—verbal and visual imagery
respectively.[107] In the second place the vision was an exact
repetition of the dream vision. It is not at all rare to find certain
phenomena of dreams (visual, motor, sensory, etc.) repeating themselves
after waking.[108] This can only be explained by the subconscious
repetition of the dream process. Consequently we are compelled to infer
the same subconscious process underlying the dream-vision. More than
this, it was possible to trace these thoughts back to antecedent
experiences of the dreamer, so that in the last analysis the
dream-vision, waking-vision, and poetical expression of the vision could
be related with almost certainty to the same antecedent experiences as
the causal factors.
Certain conclusions then seem compulsory: underlying the dream, vision,
and script was a subconscious process in which the fundamental factors
were the same. As this process showed itself capable of poetical
composition, constructive imagination, volition, memory, and affectivity
it was a _subconscious intelligence_.
As to its intrinsic nature—coconscious or unconscious—according to the
evidence at least the process that wrote the script contained conscious
elements—the coconscious thoughts and images.
We may assume the same for the dream and the vision. As to the mechanism
of the vision it is quite conceivable, not to say probable, that,
corresponding to the coconscious images of the printed words during the
writing, there were similar images of the vision scene (both in the
dream and the waking state), but these _instead of remaining coconscious
emerged into consciousness to be the vision_.[109] Whether the still
deeper underlying process was conscious or unconscious could not be
determined by any evidence accessible and must be a matter of
hypothesis.
The chief importance that attaches to this observation, it seems to me,
is the insight it gives into the character of the underlying process of
a dream. If the conclusions I have drawn are sound, then the
subconscious process which determines the conscious dream may be what is
actually an _intelligence_ and it matters not whether a coconscious or
unconscious one. This seems to me to be a conclusion fraught with the
highest significance for the theory of dreams and hallucinatory
phenomena in general. Of course we all know well enough that dissociated
subconscious processes may be intelligent and influence the content of
the personal consciousness, as witness coconscious personalities. If the
underlying process of a dream may be something akin to such a
personality, something capable of reasoning, imagination and volition,
it renders intelligible the fundamental principle of the Freudian theory
of a double process—the “latent” and “manifest” dream. One of the
difficulties in the general acceptance of this theory has been, I think,
the difficulty of conceiving a subconscious process—the “latent
dream”—capable of the intelligent fabrication of a “manifest” dream
phantasy which is a cryptic symbolization of the subject’s thoughts.
Such a fabrication has all the earmarks of purpose, fore-thought and
constructive imagination. But if this underlying process can be
identified, even though it be in a single case, with such an
intelligence as that which wrote the poetical script we have studied, it
is plainly quite capable of fabricating the wildest dream phantasy.
I have suggested that the _subconscious intelligence_ may be _comparable
to the phenomenon of a coconscious personality_. It is worth noting in
this connection that in the case of Miss B. the coconscious personality,
Sally, who claimed to be awake while Miss B. was dreaming, also claimed
that Miss B. sometimes dreamed about what Sally was thinking of at the
moment.[110] In other words, the thoughts of a large systematized
coconscious intelligence determined the dream just as these thoughts
sometimes emerged into Miss B.’s mind when awake. That a coconscious
personality may persist awake while the principal personality is asleep
I have been able to demonstrate in another case (B. C. A.). It was also
noted in Dr. Barrows’ case of Anna Winsor. Moreover, Sally was shown to
be a persistent, sane coconsciousness while Miss B. was delirious and
also while she was apparently deeply etherized and unconscious.[111]
After all it is difficult to distinguish _in principle_ the condition of
sleep with a persisting coconsciousness from a state of deep hypnotic
trance where the subject is apparently unconscious. In this condition,
although the waking consciousness has disappeared, there can be shown to
be a persisting “secondary” consciousness which can be communicated with
by automatic writing and which later can exhibit memories of occurrences
in the environment during the hypnotic trance. (B. C. A.)
What has been said does not touch, of course, the other mechanisms of
the Freudian theory nor the unessential, greatly over-emphasized theory
that the subconscious dream is always a sexual wish. On the contrary,
the principle throws a strong, _a priori_ doubt upon the correctness of
this generalization. It is plainly, however, a matter of fact which
might be easily determined by observation were it not for the difficulty
of correctly referring clinical phenomena to the correct antecedent
experiences as their causal factors. In the last analysis it becomes
always a matter of interpretation.
=Applied psychology.=—Much has been discovered in recent years regarding
the part played by subconscious processes in the production of normal
and abnormal phenomena. But we do not as yet know the possibilities and
limitations of these processes. We have as yet but an imperfect
knowledge of what they can do, what they can’t do, and what they do do,
and of the mechanisms by which they are called into play and provoke
phenomena. _Many pathological phenomena_ have been shown to be due to
subconscious processes; and it is quite probable that these play an
important part in determining the mental processes of normal life, but
this is still largely theory. In applied psychology and psychopathology
the “subconscious” has been made use of to explain many phenomena with
which we have practically to deal. Assumed as a concept the phenomena
are explained by it with a greater or less degree of probability. In
those _hysterical conditions_ where the subconscious processes have been
shown to be split-off conscious processes, we can often recover memories
of the latter and demonstrate their relation to the hysterical phenomena
by the various technical methods already mentioned. But where this
cannot be done, as is ordinarily the case, some conserved antecedent
experience must be inferred as the causal factor and assumed to be the
functioning subconscious process which determines the phenomenon. To a
large extent, then, in applied psychology and psychopathology the
postulation in specific cases of a subconscious process is theoretical
and open to more or less doubt. In other words, although a principle may
be established, its application, as in all applied sciences, is apt to
meet with difficulties.
Now the application of the principle of a subconscious process to the
explanation of a given phenomenon is rendered peculiarly difficult
because for practical purposes it is not so much the question of a
subacting process that is at issue as it is of what particular
antecedent experience is concerned in the process. The question is of
the causal factor. For example, we may know from general experience in a
large number of instances that a given hysterical phenomenon—a tic or a
convulsive attack or an hallucination or a dream—must be in all
probability determined by a subconscious process derived from some
conserved experience, but what specific experience may be a matter of
considerable uncertainty. _Hence the different theories and schools of
interpretation_ that have arisen. The importance of clearly appreciating
the nature of such problems and properly estimating the different
theories at their true value is so great that I may be permitted a few
words in further explanation.
Let us take dreams as a type. The conscious dream may be made up of
fantastic imagery and apparently absurd thoughts without apparent
logical meaning. Now from general experience we may believe that the
dream is a cryptic symbolic expression of a logical subconscious
process—perhaps a wish. The question is, what wish? The symbolism cannot
be deciphered on its face. Now, by the analytic method associative
memories pertaining to each element of the dream are recovered in
abstraction. When a memory of antecedent thoughts of which the dream
element is a logical symbolism or synonym and which give an intelligent
meaning to the dream is recovered, we infer that these antecedent
thoughts are contained in the determining subconscious process. Further,
as it is found that certain objects or actions (e. g., snakes, flying,
etc.) frequently occur in the dreams of different people as symbolisms
of the same thoughts, it is inferred that whenever these objects or
actions appear in the dream they are always symbolisms of the same
underlying thoughts.
Obviously the mere fact of an antecedent experience arising as an
associative memory is not of itself evidence of its being the causal
factor. Hundreds of such memories might be obtained. To have evidential
value the memory must give logical meaning to the dream or dream element
under investigation. Now, as a matter of fact, more than one memory can
often be obtained which answers these conditions. Consequently it
becomes a matter of selection from memories, or interpretation, as to
which is the correct solution of a given dream problem—and _mutatis
mutandis_ of a pathological phenomenon. Naturally the selection is
largely determined by personal views and _a priori_ concepts. It also
follows that if one accepts the universality of a given symbolism and is
committed to a given theory one can, by going far enough, find
associations in vast numbers of dreams that will support that theory.
The correct solution of a dream problem, that is, the correct
determination of the specific underlying process, depends upon the
correct determination of the causal factor and this must be inferred.
The inferential nature of the latter factor therefore introduces a
possible source of error. There must frequently be considerable latitude
in the interpretation. This is not to gainsay that in a large number of
instances the logical relation between antecedent experiences (recovered
by associative memories) and the dream is so close and obtrusive that
doubt as to the true subconscious process can scarcely be entertained.
An example of a condensed _analysis of a dream_ will illustrate the
practical difficulty often presented in determining by clinical methods
the correct causal factor and subconscious process of a dream. I select
a simple one which consists of two scenes:[112]
"C. was somewhere and saw an old woman who appeared to be a _Jewess_.
She was holding a _bottle_ and a _glass_, and seemed to be drinking
whisky. Then this woman changed into her own _mother_, who had the
bottle and glass, and appeared likewise to be drinking whisky.
“Then the door opened and her _father_ appeared. He had on her
_husband’s dressing gown_, and he was holding _two sticks of wood_ in
his hand.”
Before interpreting this dream I will state that the subject had been
tormented (as was brought out by the associative memories) by the
question whether poor people should be condemned if they yielded to
temptation, particularly that of drinking. This problem she could not
answer satisfactorily to herself. It is the inferred causal factor in
the dream process. The dream gave an answer to this problem.
Let me also point out that the material, that is, the elements out of
which this dream was constructed (indicated by the words italicized),
was found in the thoughts of the dreamer on the preceding day and
particularly just before going to sleep. The first scene of the dream
ends with the mother drinking whisky: the second scene represents the
father appearing with two sticks of wood. For the sake of simplicity of
illustration I will confine myself to the _interpretation_ of this first
scene as it will answer our present purposes.
“As to the first scene” (by technical methods of analysis) “a rich
collection of memories was obtained. It appeared that on the previous
morning the subject had walked with a _poor Jewess_ through the slums,
and had passed by some men who had been _drinking_. This led her to
think at the time of the lives of these poor people; of the
_temptations_ to which they were exposed; of how little we know of
this side of life and of its _temptations_. She wondered what the
effect of such surroundings, particularly of seeing people _drinking_,
would have upon the child of the Jewess. She wondered if such people
ought to be condemned if they yielded to drink and other temptations.
She thought that she herself would not blame such people if they
yielded, and that we ought not to _condemn_ them. Then in the
psychoanalysis there came memories of her mother, whose character she
admired and who _never condemned any one_. She remembered how her
mother, who was an invalid, always had a glass of _whisky_ and water
on her table at night, and how the family used to joke her about it.
Then came memories again of her husband sending _bottles of whisky_ to
her mother; of the latter _drinking_ it at night; of the men whom she
had seen in the slums and who had been _drinking_. These, very
briefly, were the experiences accompanied by strong feeling tones
which were called up as associative memories of this scene of the
dream. With these in mind, it is not difficult to construct a logical,
though symbolic, meaning of it. In the dream _a_ Jewess (not _the_
Jewess, but a type) is in the act of drinking whisky—in other words,
the poor, whom the _Jewess_ represents, yield to the temptation which
the dreamer had thought of with considerable intensity of feeling
during the day. The dreamer’s own judgment, after considerable
cogitation, had been that such people were not to be condemned. Was
she right? The dream answers the question, for the Jewess changes in
the dream to her mother, for whose judgment she had the utmost
respect. Her mother now drinks the whisky as she had actually done in
life, a logical justification (in view of her mother’s fine character
and liberal opinion) of her own belief, which was somewhat intensely
expressed in her thoughts of that morning, a belief in not condemning
poor people who yield to such temptations. The dream scene is
therefore the symbolical representation and justification of her own
belief,[113] and answers the doubts and scruples that beset her mind.”
Whether or not this is the correct interpretation of this dream depends
entirely upon whether the true causal factors were found. If through the
analysis this was the case, as I believe—namely, the scruple or ethical
problem whether poor people who yield to temptation ought to be
condemned—then the interpretation given is logically sound and the dream
is an answer to the doubts and scruples that beset the dreamer’s mind.
But the answer is a pictorial symbolism and therefore requires an
intervening subconscious process which induces and finally expresses
itself in the symbolism. We may suppose that this process in response to
and as a subconscious incubation of the ethical problem took some form
like this: “Poor people like the Jewess are not to be condemned for
yielding to the temptation (of drinking) for my mother, who was beyond
criticism, showed by her life she would not have condemned them.”
This may or may not be the true subconscious process and the correct
interpretation of the dream. But it is one possible and logical
interpretation based upon the actually found antecedent experiences and
associative memories of the dreamer. Now it so happens that this
interpretation and that of other dreams[114] which I endeavored to trace
to antecedent experiences have been warmly challenged by certain
clinicians because the inferred causal factors were not found to be
antecedent repressed sexual wishes. It is insisted on theoretical
grounds that the content of the dreams plainly indicated that there must
have been such wishes and that if these had been found this dream would
have been unfolded as a logical symbolical fulfilment of a sexual wish.
Which interpretation is correct is inconsequential for our present
purpose. The controversy only relates to the universality of the sexual
theory of dreams. The point is that this difference in interpretation
shows the possibility of error in the determination of the causal factor
and the subconscious process by clinical methods. The dream may be
logically related to two or more antecedent experiences and we have no
criterion of which is the correct one. To insist upon one or the other
savors of pure dogmatism.[115] Indeed, the justification for the
postulation in a dream of any subconscious process in the last analysis
depends upon the soundness of the postulation of the antecedent
experience as the causal factor. If this factor falls to the ground the
subconscious process falls with it.
The second point to which this discussion leads us is that the latitude
of interpretation allowed by the method of analysis has given rise to
different views as to the specific character of the subconscious process
found in many dreams. According to the theory of Freud, to whose genius
we are indebted for the discovery of this process, it is almost always a
sexual wish and the dream is always the imaginary, even though cryptic,
fulfilment of that wish. On the other hand, as a result of my own
studies, if I may venture to lay weight upon them, I have been forced to
the conclusion that _a dream may be the symbolical expression of almost
any thought_ to which strong emotional tones with their impulsive forces
have been linked, particularly anxieties, apprehensions, sorrows,
beliefs, wishes, doubts, and scruples, which function subconsciously in
the dream. It may be a solution of unsolved problems with which the mind
has been occupied,[116] just as in the waking state a mathematical or
other problem may be solved subconsciously. In some subjects the problem
is particularly apt to be one involving a conflict between opposing
impulses, therefore one which has troubled the dreamer.[117]
We have seen that in experimental and spontaneous hallucinatory
phenomena, where the causal factor is known, a subconscious process is
the essential feature of the mechanism. In this respect the mechanism is
identical with that of certain dreams. Indeed, dreams are one type of
hallucinatory phenomena. In fact we met with one dream the chief element
of which was repeated afterward in the waking state as a vision. We are
justified, then, in applying the principle of a subconscious process to
the elucidation of the _visions of normal people_, although it may be
difficult to determine exactly the specific content of the process and
the antecedent thought from which it was derived. Sometimes the content
of a vision and the known circumstances under which it occurred are
sufficient to enable us to interpret the phenomenon with reasonable
certainty. In the following historical examples it is not difficult to
recognize that the vision was a symbolic answer to a problem which had
troubled the conscience of the Archduke Charles of Austria. Unable to
solve his problem consciously and come to a decision, it was solved for
him by a subconscious process. Indeed, as a fact, the vision was
accepted by Charles as an answer to his doubts and perhaps changed the
future history of Austria.
“The Archduke Charles (the father of the present Emperor of Austria)
was also greatly troubled in his mind as to the right to waive his
claim to the crown in favor of his son. According to his own statement
he only finally made up his mind when, while earnestly praying for
guidance in his perplexity, he had _a vision of the spirit of his
father, the late Emperor Francis, laying his hand on the head of his
youthful grandson and thus putting all his own doubts to rest_.”[118]
The likeness in type of the dream which we have just discussed to this
vision is instructive. In the former the mother of the dreamer answers
the question of conscience by drinking the whisky; in the latter the
father of the visualizer does the same by laying his hand on the head of
the object of the doubt.
I have already pointed out the evidence for a subconscious process
underlying the hallucinatory phenomena of sudden religious
conversion.[119] I may further cite here, as an analogous phenomenon,
the following historical example of not only hallucinatory symbolism,
but of _explicitly conscious processes of thought_ which were elaborated
by subconscious processes. It is Margaret Mary’s vision of the Sacred
Heart. Margaret earnestly desired (according to her biographer)——
“To be loved by God! and loved by him to distraction (aimé jusqu’à la
folie)!—Margaret melted away with love at the thought of such a thing.
Like St. Philip of Neri in former times, or like St. Francis Xavier,
she said to God: ‘Hold back, O my God, these torrents which overwhelm
me, or else enlarge my capacity for their reception.’”
The answer and the form of the fulfilment of this wish came as an
hallucination. She had a vision of Christ’s Sacred Heart
“‘surrounded with rays more brilliant than the sun, and transparent
like a crystal. The wound which he received on the cross visibly
appeared upon it. There was a crown of thorns roundabout this divine
Heart, and a cross above it.’ At the same time Christ’s voice told her
that, unable longer to contain the flames of his love for mankind, he
had chosen her by a miracle to spread the knowledge of them. He
thereupon took out her mortal heart, placed it inside of his own and
inflamed it, and then replaced it in her breast, adding: ‘Hitherto
thou hast taken the name of my slave, hereafter thou shalt be called
the well-beloved disciple of my Sacred Heart.’”[120]
There is scarcely room to doubt, on the strength of the evidence as
presented, that the antecedent longings of Margaret impelled by the
conative force of their emotions were the causal factor of this vision.
These longings, organized in the unconscious, must have gone through
subconscious incubation (as William James has pointed out) and then
emerged after maturity into consciousness as a symbolic visualization
accompanied by hallucinatory words which were the expression of explicit
subconscious imagination. Indeed, all such hallucinatory symbolisms—like
the mental phenomena in general of sudden religious conversion—can only
be psychologically explained as the emergence into consciousness of
subconscious processes. The problem in each case is the determination of
the content of the process.[121]
_Reflection, consideration, meditation._—We are entering upon more
uncertain ground in attempting to apply the mechanism of subconscious
processes to every-day thought. There are certain types of thought,
however, which behave as if this mechanism were at work. When, for
instance, we take a problem “under advisement,” reflect upon it, give it
“thoughtful consideration,” it seems as if, in weighing the facts pro
and con, in looking at it from different points of view, i.e., in
switching it into different settings, in considering all the facts
related to it, we _voluntarily_ recall each fact that comes into
consciousness. Yet it is quite possible, and indeed I think more than
probable, reasoning from analogy, that the processes which present each
fact, switch each point of view, or setting into consciousness, are
subconscious and that what we do is chiefly to select from those which
are thus brought into consciousness the ideas, settings, etc., which
fulfil best the requirements of the question. In profound reflection or
attention to thought (a form of absentmindedness) it seems as if it were
more a matter of attention to and selection from the “free associations”
which involuntarily come into the mind than of determining voluntarily
what shall come in. If this be so, it is evident that the subconscious
plays a much more extensive part in the mechanism of thought than is
ordinarily supposed. We have not, however, sufficient data to allow us
to do much more than theorize in the matter. Yet there are certain data
which suggest the probability of the correctness of this hypothesis. In
this connection I would point out how entirely confirmatory of this view
is the testimony of the hypnotic consciousness which was cited in the
previous lecture and which I will ask you to recall. You will remember
that this testimony was to the effect that when a problem was under
consideration associative memories required for its solution kept
emerging out of the unconscious into the secondary consciousness.[122]
Consider certain facts of every-day experience. A novel and difficult
question is put up to us for decision. We have, we will say, to decide
whether a certain piece of property situated in a growing district of a
city shall be sold or held for future development: or a political
manager has to decide whether or not to pursue a certain policy to win
an election; or the President of the United States has to decide the
policy of the government in certain land questions in Alaska. Now each
of us would probably say that we could not decide such a question
offhand; we would want time for consideration. If we attempted
voluntarily, at the moment the question is put, to recall to mind all
the different facts involved, to consider the given question from all
aspects, to switch the main facts into their different settings, we
would find it an impossible thing to do. We consequently take the matter
“under advisement,” to use the conventional expression. We want time.
Now what we apparently, and I think undoubtedly, do is to put the
problem _into_ our minds and leave it, so to speak, to incubate. Then,
from time to time, as we take up the matter for consideration, the
various facts involved in the different aspects of the question, and
belonging to their different settings, arise to mind. Then we weigh,
compare, and estimate the value of these different facts and arrive at a
judgment. All happens as if subconscious processes had been at work, as
if the problem had been going through a subconscious incubation,
switching in this and switching in that set of facts, and presenting
them to consciousness, the final selection of the deciding point of view
being left to the latter. The subconscious garners from the storehouse
of past experiences, those which have a bearing on the question and are
required for its solution, brings them into consciousness, and then our
logical conscious processes form the judgment. The degree to which
subconscious processes in this way take part in forming judgments would
vary according to the mental habits of the individual, the complexity of
the problem, the affectivity and conflicting character of the elements
involved. Under this theory we see that there is a deeper psychological
basis for the every-day practice of taking “under advisement” or “into
consideration” a matter, before giving judgment, than would appear on
the surface. There is considerable experimental evidence in favor of
this theory. In discussing above the subconscious solution of problems I
cited certain evidence, obtained from the memories of subjects in
hypnosis, for coconscious and unconscious processes taking part in such
solutions. I have been able to accumulate evidence of this kind showing
the coöperation of processes outside of consciousness in determining the
point of view and final judgment of the subject when a matter has been
under advisement; particularly when the subject has been disturbed by
doubts and scruples. It is plain that in the final analysis any question
on which we reserve our judgment is a problem which we put _into_ our
minds. And, after all, _it is only a question of degree and affectivity
between the state of mind which hesitates to decide an impersonal
question, like a judicial decision, and one that involves a scruple of
conscience_. This latter state often eventuates in hallucinatory and
other phenomena involving subconscious processes. Scruples of
conscience, it is true, usually have strong affective elements as
constituents, but the former may also have them, particularly when
involving personal ambitions, political principles, etc.
-----
Footnote 98:
The Dissociation, Appendix L, p. 548.
Footnote 99:
The Dissociation, Chapter XXXI.
Footnote 100:
As a matter of fact, the judgment was erroneous, though a justifiable
inference.
Footnote 101:
Cf. The Dissociation, 2d edition, p. 567.
Footnote 102:
William James had once said to her in my presence that she could make
a valuable contribution to psychology. It is interesting to note,
although it is aside from the question at issue, that this subject had
strenuously denied that there was any “hope,” insisting that she was
absolutely devoid of any such sentiment. Through hypnotic memories,
however, I was able to demonstrate that this was only consciously
true, and that there were very evident and strong coconscious ideas of
hope of which she was not consciously aware. She had refused to
acknowledge these ideas to herself and by repression had dissociated
them from the personal consciousness. These ideas now expressed
themselves symbolically in the dream.
Footnote 103:
We must remember that a dreaming state is a dissociated state (like a
fugue or trance), and numerous observations have shown that in such
conditions any of the dormant related experiences of life may modify,
repress, resist, alter, and determine the content of the dissociated
consciousness. It is difficult to conceive of a dream allegory being
constructed by the dream consciousness itself. If that were the
mechanism, we should expect that the associative ideas for which
symbols are chosen would appear during the dream construction as is
the case in waking imagination. The method of the mental processes is
very different in the latter. We there _select_ from a number of
associative ideas that crowd into consciousness, choose our symbols,
and remember the rejected ideas. This is not the case with dream
imagination. The imagery develops as if done by something else.
Footnote 104:
It must not be assumed that all dreams are determined by a
subconscious process or that all are symbolic. On the contrary, from
evidence in hand, there is reason to believe that some dreams have
substantially the same mechanism as waking imagination subject to the
limitations imposed by the existing dissociation of consciousness
during sleep. Just as, in the waking state, thoughts may or may not be
determined by subconscious processes, so in the sleeping state. We
know too little about the mechanisms of thought to draw wide
generalizations or to dogmatize.
Footnote 105:
“For two or three days previously I had been trying to write some
verses, and had been reading a good deal of poetry. I had been
thinking in rhythm. I had also been under considerable nervous and
emotional strain for some little time in reference to the facts
portrayed in the verse.”
Footnote 106:
By this is meant “thoughts” of which she was not aware. Numerous
observations on this subject have disclosed such subconscious ideas in
connection with other phenomena. This corresponds with the testimony
of other subjects previously cited. (Lecture VI.)
Footnote 107:
As a theory of the mechanism of the vision I would suggest that it was
the emergence of the secondary visual images belonging to the
subconscious ideas.
Footnote 108:
See page 102. Also Prince: The Mechanism and Interpretation of Dreams.
_Jour. Abnormal Psychology_. Oct.-Nov., 1910. G. A. Waterman: Dreams
as a Cause of Symptoms. Ibid. Oct.-Nov., 1910.
Footnote 109:
I base this theory on other observations where coconscious images or
“visions” of scenes occurred. When these images emerge into
consciousness the subject experienced a vision.
Footnote 110:
The Dissociation, p. 332.
Footnote 111:
The Dissociation of a Personality, p. 330.
Footnote 112:
Mechanism and Interpretation of Dreams, _Journal Abnormal Psychology_,
Oct.-Nov., 1910.
Footnote 113:
The symbolic expression of beliefs and symbolic answers to doubts and
scruples is quite common in another type of symbolism, viz., visions.
Religious and political history is replete with examples.
Footnote 114:
_Loc. cit._
Footnote 115:
It has been answered that experience in a large number of cases shows
that dreams always can be related logically to sexual experiences. To
this it may be answered they can also in an equal number of cases,
indeed in many of these same cases, be related to non-sexual
experiences.
Footnote 116:
_Loc. cit._ It is possible, however, that sometimes the problem has
been solved subconsciously in the waking state, the answer then
appearing in the dream.
Footnote 117:
Here we find an analogy with certain allied phenomena—the visions and
voices experienced as phenomena of sudden religious conversion.
Footnote 118: