CHAPTER I

COLLECTED PAPERS ON

ANALYTICAL PSYCHOLOGY

COLLECTED PAPERS

ON

ANALYTICAL PSYCHOLOGY

BY

C. G. JUNG, M.D., LL.D.,

FORMERLY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ZÜRICH.

AUTHORISED TRANSLATION

EDITED BY DR. CONSTANCE E. LONG,

MEDICAL OFFICER, EDUCATION BOARD; MEMBER ADVISORY COMMITTEE INSURANCE

ACT; EX-PRESIDENT ASSOCIATION OF REGISTERED MEDICAL WOMEN, ETC.

SECOND EDITION (REPRINTED)

[Illustration]

LONDON

BAILLIÈRE, TINDALL AND COX

8, HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN

1920

[_All rights reserved_]

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN.

EDITOR'S PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION

The following papers have been gathered together from various sources,

and are now available for the first time to English readers. The subject

of psychoanalysis is much in evidence, and is likely to occupy still

more attention in the near future, as the psychological content of the

psychoses and neuroses is more generally appreciated and understood.

It is of importance, therefore, that the fundamental writings of both

the Viennese and Zürich Schools should be accessible for study. Several

of Freud's works have already been translated into English. Dr. Jung's

"Wandlungen und Symbole der Libido" was published in America in 1916

under the title of "The Psychology of the Unconscious." That work, read

in conjunction with these papers, offers a fairly complete picture of

the scientific and philosophic standpoint of the leader of the Zürich

School. It is the task of the future to judge and expand the findings

of both schools, and to work at the development of the new psychology,

which is still in its infancy.

It will be a relief to many students of the unconscious to see it in

another aspect than that of "a wild beast couched, waiting its hour to

spring." Some readers have gathered that view of it from the writings

of the Viennese School, a view which is at most that dangerous thing "a

half-truth."

In the papers appearing for the first time in this edition (Chapters

XIV. and XV.), Dr. Jung develops his ideas of introversion and

extroversion, a contribution of the first importance to psychology.

He agrees with Freud in regarding the neuroses to be the result of

repression, but differs in his view as to the origin of repression.

He finds this to lie not in sexuality _per se_, but rather in man's

natural tendency to adapt to the demands of life one-sidedly, according

to his type of mentality. The born extrovert adapts by means of

feeling, thought being under repression and relatively infantile. The

introvert's natural adaptation is by means of thought; feeling being

more or less repressed remains undeveloped. In either type the neglected

co-function is behind the adapted function. This inequality operating

in the unconscious, brings about a conflict, which in certain subjects

amounts to a neurosis, and in others produces a limitation of individual

development. This view shifts the interpretation of repression on to a

much more comprehensive basis than that of sexuality, although there can

scarcely be a repression that does not include this instinct on account

of its deep and far-reaching importance in man.

There is no doubt that some even scientific persons have a certain

fear of whither the study of the unconscious may lead. These fearful

persons should be reminded that they possess an unconscious in spite of

themselves, and that they share it in common with every human being. It

is an extension of the individual. To study it is to deepen the self.

All new discoveries have at one stage been called dangerous, and all new

philosophies have been deemed heresies. It is as though we would once

more consign radium to its dust-heaps, lest some day the new radiancy

should over-power mankind. Indeed this particular thing has proved

at once most dangerous and most precious. Man must learn to use his

treasure, and in using it to _submit to its own laws_, which can only

become known when it is handled and investigated.

Those who read this book with the attention it requires, will find they

gain an impression of many new truths. The second edition is issued

towards the end of the third year of the Great European war, at a time

when much we have valued and held sacred is in the melting-pot. But

we believe that out of the crucible new forms will arise. The study

of psychoanalysis produces something of the effect of a war in the

psyche; indeed, we need to make conscious this war in the inner things

of the mind and soul if we would be delivered in the future from war

in the external world. There is a parallelism between individual and

international neurosis. In the pain of the upheaval, one recognises the

birth-pangs of newer, and let us hope, truer thought, and more natural

adaptations. We need a renewal of our philosophy of life to replace much

that has perished in the general cataclysm, and it is because I see in

the analytical psychology, which grows out of a scientific study of the

unconscious, the germs of such a new construction, that I have gathered

the following essays together. The translation is the work of various

hands, the names of the different translators being given in a footnote

at the beginning of each essay; for the editing I am responsible. The

essays are, as far as possible, printed in chronological order, and

those readers who are sufficiently interested will be able to discern

in them the gradual development of Dr. Jung's present position in

psychoanalysis.

CONSTANCE E. LONG.

2, HARLEY PLACE, W.

_June, 1917_.

AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION

In agreement with my honoured collaborator, Dr. C. E. Long, I have

made certain additions to the second edition. It should especially be

mentioned that a new chapter upon "The Concept of the Unconscious" has

been added. This is a lecture I gave early in 1916 before the Zürich

Union for Analytical Psychology. It gives a general orientation of a

most important problem in practical analysis, viz. of the relation

of the psychological ego to the psychological non-ego. Chapter XIV.

has been fundamentally altered, and I have used the opportunity to

incorporate an article that should describe the results of more recent

researches. In accordance with my usual mode of working, the description

is as generalised as possible. My habit in my daily practical work is

to confine myself for some time to studying my human material. I then

abstract as generalised a formula as possible from the data collected,

obtaining from it a point of view and applying it in my practical work,

until it has either been confirmed, modified, or else abandoned. If

it has been confirmed, I publish it as a general view-point, without

giving the empirical material. I only introduce the material amassed

in the course of my practice in the form of example or illustration. I

therefore beg the reader not to consider the views I present as mere

fabrications of my brain. They are, as a matter of fact, the results of

extensive experience and ripe reflection.

These additions will enable the reader of the second edition to become

familiar with the recent views of the Zürich School.

As regards the criticism encountered by the first edition of this

work, I was pleased to find my writings were received with much more

open-mindedness among English critics than was the case in Germany,

where they are met with the silence born of contempt. I am particularly

grateful to Dr. Agnes Savill for an exceptionally understanding

criticism in the _Medical Press_. My thanks are also due to Dr. T. W.

Mitchell for an exhaustive review in the _Proceedings of the Society for

Psychical Research_. This critic takes exception to my heresy respecting

causality. He considers that I am entering upon a perilous, because

unscientific, course, when I question the sole validity of the causal

view-point in psychology. I sympathise with him, but in my opinion the

nature of the human mind compels us to take the final point of view.

For it cannot be disputed that, psychologically speaking, we are living

and working, day by day, according to the principle of directed aim

or purpose, as well as that of causality. A psychological theory must

necessarily adapt itself to this fact. What is plainly directed towards

a goal cannot be given an exclusively causalistic explanation, otherwise

we should be led to the conclusion expressed in Moleschott's famous

enunciation: "Man _is_, what he eats." We must always bear the fact in

mind that _causality is a point of view_. It affirms the inevitable and

immutable relation of a series of events: a-b-d-z. Since this relation

is fixed, and according to the view-point must necessarily be so,

looked at logically the order may also be reversed. _Finality is also

a view-point_, that is justified empirically solely by the existence

of series of events, wherein the causal connection is indeed evident,

_but the meaning of which only becomes intelligible as producing final

effect_. Ordinary daily life furnishes the best instances of this. The

causal explanation must be mechanistic, if we are not to postulate a

metaphysical entity as first cause. For instance, if we adopt Freud's

sexual theory and assign primary importance psychologically to the

function of the genital glands, the brain is viewed as an appendage of

the genital glands. If we approach the Viennese idea of sexuality with

all its vague omnipotence, and trace it in a strictly scientific manner

down to its psychological basis, we shall arrive at the first cause,

according to which psychic life is for the most, or the most important

part, tension and relaxation of the genital glands. If we assume for the

moment that this mechanistic explanation be "true," it would be the sort

of truth which is exceptionally tiresome and rigidly limited in scope.

A similar statement would be that the genital glands cannot function

without adequate _nourishment_, with its inference that sexuality is an

appendage-function of nutrition! The truth contained in this is really

an important chapter in the biology of lower forms of life.

But if we wish to work in a really psychological way, we shall want

to know the _meaning_ of psychological phenomena. After learning the

kinds of steel the various parts of a locomotive are made of, and from

what ironworks and mines they come, we do not really know anything

about the locomotive's _function_, that is to say, its _meaning_. But

"function" as conceived by modern science is by no means solely a

causal concept; it is especially a final or "teleological" one. For it

is utterly impossible to consider the soul from the causal view-point

only; we are obliged to consider it also from the final point of view.

As Dr. Mitchell also points out, it is impossible for us to think of the

causal determination conjointly with a final connection. That would be

an obvious contradiction. But our theory of cognition does not need to

remain on a pre-Kantian level. It is well known that Kant showed very

clearly that the mechanistic and the teleological view-points are not

_constituent_ (objective) principles, in some degree qualities of the

object, but that they are purely _regulative_ (subjective) principles

of thought, and as such they are not mutually inconsistent. I can, for

example, easily conceive the following thesis and antithesis:--

_Thesis_: Everything came into existence according to

mechanistic laws.

_Antithesis_: Some things did not come into existence

according to mechanistic laws only.

Kant says to this: Reason cannot prove either of these principles,

because _a priori_ purely empirical laws of nature cannot give us a

determinative principle regarding the potentiality of things.

As a matter of fact, modern physics has necessarily been converted from

the idea of pure mechanism to the final concept of the conservation of

energy, because the mechanistic explanation only recognises reversible

processes, whereas the actual truth is that the process of nature is

irreversible. This fact led to the concept of an energy that tends

towards relief of tension, and therewith also towards a definite final

state.

Obviously, I consider both these points of view necessary, the causal as

well as the final, but would at the same time lay stress upon the fact

that since Kant's time we have come to know that the two view-points

are not antagonistic if they are regarded as regulative principles of

thought, and not as constituent principles of the process of nature

itself.

When speaking of the reviews, I must also mention those that seem to

me beside the mark. I was once more struck by the fact that certain

critics cannot distinguish between the theoretical explanation given by

the author, and the phantastic ideas provided by the patient. One of

my critics makes this confusion when discussing "Number Dreams." The

associations to the quotation from the Bible in Chapter V. are, as every

attentive reader must readily perceive, not arbitrary explanations of

my own, but a cryptomnesic conglomeration emanating, not from my brain

at all, but from that of the patient. Surely it is not difficult to

perceive upon reflection that this conglomeration of numbers corresponds

exactly to that unconscious psychological function from which proceeded

all the mysticism of numbers, Pythagoric, Kabbalistic, and so forth,

existent from untold ages.

I am grateful to my serious reviewers, and should like here to also

express my thanks to Mrs. Harold F. McCormick for her generous help in

the production of this book.

C. G. JUNG.

_June, 1917._

AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION

This volume contains a selection of articles and pamphlets on analytical

psychology written at intervals during the past fourteen years. These

years have seen the development of a new discipline, and as is usual in

such a case, have involved many changes of view-point, of concept, and

of formulation.

It is not my intention to give a presentation of the fundamental

concepts of analytical psychology in this book; it throws some

light, however, on a certain line of development which is especially

characteristic of the Zürich School of psychoanalysis.

As is well known, the merit of the discovery of the new analytical

method of general psychology belongs to Professor Freud of Vienna. His

original view-points had to undergo many essential modifications, some

of them owing to the work done at Zürich, in spite of the fact that he

himself is far from agreeing with the standpoint of this school.

I am unable to explain fully the fundamental differences between the

two schools, but would indicate the following points: The Vienna School

takes the standpoint of an exclusive sexualistic conception, while

that of the Zürich School is symbolistic. The Vienna School interprets

the psychological symbol semiotically, as a sign or token of certain

primitive psychosexual processes. Its method is analytical and causal.

The Zürich School recognises the scientific feasibility of such a

conception, but denies its exclusive validity, for it does not interpret

the psychological symbol semiotically only, but also symbolistically,

that is, it attributes a positive value to the symbol.

The value does not depend merely on historical causes; its chief

importance lies in the fact that it has a meaning for the actual

present, and for the future, in their psychological aspects. For to the

Zürich School the symbol is not merely a sign of something repressed and

concealed, but is at the same time an attempt to comprehend and to point

out the way of the further psychological development of the individual.

Thus we add a prospective import to the retrospective value of the

symbol.

The method of the Zürich School is therefore not only analytical and

causal, but also synthetic and prospective, in recognition that the

human mind is characterised by "causæ" and also by "fines" (aims). The

latter fact needs particular emphasis, because there are two types of

psychology, the one following the principle of hedonism, and the other

following the principle of power. Scientific materialism is pertinent

to the former type, and the philosophy of Nietzsche to the latter. The

principle of the Freudian theory is hedonism, while that of Adler (one

of Freud's earliest personal pupils) is founded upon the principle of

power.

The Zürich School, recognising the existence of these two types (also

remarked by the late Professor William James), considers that the views

of Freud and Adler are one-sided, and only valid within the limits of

their corresponding type. Both principles exist within every individual,

but not in equal proportions.

Thus, it is obvious that each psychological symbol has two aspects, and

should be interpreted according to the two principles. Freud and Adler

interpret in the analytical and causal way, reducing to the infantile

and primitive. Thus with Freud the conception of the "aim" is the

fulfilment of desire, with Adler it is the usurpation of power. Both

authors take the standpoint in their practical analytical work which

brings to view only infantile and gross egoistic aims.

The Zürich School is convinced of the fact that within the limits of

a diseased mental attitude the psychology is such as Freud and Adler

describe. It is, indeed, just on account of such impossible and childish

psychology that the individual is in a state of inward dissociation and

hence neurotic. The Zürich School, therefore, in agreement with them so

far, also reduces the psychological symbol (the phantasy products of

the patient) to the fundamental infantile hedonism, or to the infantile

desire for power. But Freud and Adler content themselves with the

result of mere reduction, according to their scientific biologism and

naturalism.

But here a very important question arises. Can man obey the fundamental

and primitive impulses of his nature without gravely injuring himself

or his fellow beings? He cannot assert either his sexual desire or

his desire for power unlimitedly, and the limits are moreover very

restricted. The Zürich School has in view also the final result

of analysis, and regards the fundamental thoughts and impulses

of the unconscious, as symbols, indicative of a definite line of

future development. We must admit there is, however, _no scientific

justification_ for such a procedure, because our present-day science is

based as a whole upon causality. But causality is only one principle,

and psychology essentially cannot be exhausted by causal methods

only, because the mind lives by aims as well. Besides this disputable

philosophical argument, we have another of much greater value in favour

of our hypothesis, namely, that of _vital necessity_. It is impossible

to live according to the intimations of infantile hedonism, or according

to a childish desire for power. If these are to be retained they must be

taken symbolically. Out of the symbolic application of infantile trends,

an attitude evolves which may be termed philosophic or religious, and

these terms characterise sufficiently the lines of further development

of the individual. The individual is not only an established and

unchangeable complex of psychological facts, but also an extremely

changeable entity. By exclusive reduction to causes, the primitive

trends of a personality are reinforced; this is only helpful when at

the same time these primitive tendencies are balanced by recognition

of their symbolic value. Analysis and reduction lead to causal truth;

this by itself does not help living, but brings about resignation and

hopelessness. On the other hand, the recognition of the intrinsic value

of a symbol leads to constructive truth and helps us to live. It induces

hopefulness and furthers the possibility of future development.

The functional importance of the symbol is clearly shown in the history

of civilisation. For thousands of years the religious symbol proved

a most efficacious means in the moral education of mankind. Only a

prejudiced mind could deny such an obvious fact. Concrete values cannot

take the place of the symbol; only new and more efficient symbols can

be substituted for those that are antiquated and outworn, such as have

lost their efficacy through the progress of intellectual analysis and

understanding. The further development of mankind can only be brought

about by means of symbols which represent something far in advance of

himself, and whose intellectual meanings cannot yet be grasped entirely.

The individual unconscious produces such symbols, and they are of the

greatest possible value in the moral development of the personality.

Man almost invariably has philosophic and religious views of the meaning

of the world and of his own life. There are some who are proud to have

none. These are exceptions outside the common path of mankind; they miss

an important function which has proved itself to be indispensable to the

human mind.

In such cases we find in the unconscious, instead of modern

symbolism, an antiquated archaic view of the world and of life. If a

requisite psychological function is not represented in the sphere of

consciousness, it exists in the unconscious in the form of an archaic or

embryonic prototype.

This brief _résumé_ may show what the reader cannot find in this

collection of papers. The essays are stations on the way of the more

general views developed above.

C. G. JUNG.

ZÜRICH,

_January, 1916_.

CONTENTS

PAGE

EDITOR'S PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION v

AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION ix

AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION xiii

CHAPTER I

ON THE PSYCHOLOGY AND PATHOLOGY OF SO-CALLED OCCULT

PHENOMENA 1

Difficulty of demarcation in borderline cases between

epilepsy, hysteria, and mental deficiency--Somnambulism an

hysterical manifestation--A case of spontaneous somnambulism,

with some characters of protracted hysterical delirium--Other

cases quoted--Charcot's classification of somnambulism--Naef's

and Azam's cases of periodic amnesia--Proust's and Boileau's

wandering-impulse cases--William James' case of Rev. Ansel

Bourne--Other examples showing changes in consciousness--Hypnagogic

hallucinations--Neurasthenic mental deficiency, Bleuler's

case--Summing up of Miss Elsie K.'s case--Need of further

scientific investigation in the field of psychological

peculiarities.

CASE OF SOMNAMBULISM IN A PERSON WITH NEUROPATHIC INHERITANCE

(SPIRITUALISTIC MEDIUM) 16

History of case--Accidental discovery of her mediumistic

powers--Her somnambulic attacks, "_attitudes passionelles_,"

catalepsy, tachypnoea, trance speeches, etc.--Ecstasies--Her

conviction of the reality of her visions--Her dreams,

hypnagogic and hypnopompic visions--The elevation of her

somnambulic character--Mental thought transference--S. W.'s

double life--Psychographic communications--Description of

séances--The Prophetess of Prevorst--Automatic writing--The two

grandfathers--Appearance of other somnambulic personalities.

DEVELOPMENT OF THE SOMNAMBULIC PERSONALITIES 30

The psychograph and spiritualistic wonders--The

grandfather the medium's "guide" or "control"--Ulrich von

Gerbenstein--The somnambulic personalities have access

to the medium's memory--Ivenes--S. W.'s amnesia for her

ecstasies--Later séances--Her journeys on the other side--Oracular

sayings--Conventi--Ivenes' dignity and superiority to her

"guides"--Her previous incarnations--Her race-motherhood.

MYSTIC SCIENCE AND MYSTIC SYSTEM OF POWERS 40

Her growing wilful deception--The waking

state--Her peculiarities--Instability--Hysterical

tendencies--Misreading--Errors of dispersion of attention discussed.

SEMI-SOMNAMBULISM 48

AUTOMATISMS 49

Table movements--Unconscious motor

phenomena--Verbal suggestion and auto-suggestion--The

experimenter's participation--The medium's unconscious

response--Thought-reading--Table-tilting experiment,

illustrated--Experiments with beginners--Myers' experiments

in automatic writing--Janet's conversation with Lucie's

subconsciousness--Example of the way the subconscious personality

is constructed--Hallucinations appear with deepening hypnosis;

some contributing factors--Comparison between dream symbols

and appearance of somnambulic personalities--Extension of the

unconscious sphere--The somnambulist's thinking is in plastic

images, which are made objective in hallucinations--Why visual

and not auditory hallucinations occur--Origin of hypnagogic

hallucinations--Those of Jeanne d'Arc and others.

THE CHANGE IN CHARACTER 64

Noticeable in S. W.'s case, also in Mary

Reynolds'--Association with amnesic disturbances--Influence

of puberty in our case--S. W.'s systematic anæsthesia--Ivenes

not so much a case of double consciousness as one in which she

dreams herself into a higher ideal state--Similar pathological

dreaming found in the lives of saints--Mechanism of hysterical

identification--S. W.'s dreams break out explosively--Their origin

and meaning, and their subjective roots.

RELATION TO THE HYSTERICAL ATTACK 75

In considering the origin of attack, two moments, viz.

irruption of hypnosis, and the psychic stimulation, must be

taken into account--In susceptible subjects relatively small

stimuli suffice to bring about somnambulism--Our case approaches

to hysterical lethargy--The automatisms transform lethargy

into hypnosis--Her ego-consciousness is identical in all

states--Secondary somnambulic personalities split off from the

primary unconscious personality--All group themselves under two

types, the gay-hilarious, and serio-religious--The automatic

speaking occurs--This facilitates the study of the subconscious

personalities--Their share of the consciousness--The irruption of

the hypnosis is complicated by an hysterical attack--The automatism

arising in the motor area plays the part of hypnotist--When the

hypnotism flows over into the visual sphere the hysterical attack

occurs--Grandfathers I. and II.--Hysterical dissociations belong to

the superficial layers of the ego-complex--There are layers beyond

the reach of dissociation--Effect of the hysterical attack.

RELATIONSHIP TO THE UNCONSCIOUS PERSONALITY 82

The serio-religious and the gay-hilarious explained by the

anamnesis--Two halves of S. W.'s character--She is conscious of the

painful contrast--She seeks a middle way--Her aspirations bring her

to the puberty dream of the ideal Ivenes--The repressed ideas begin

an autonomous existence--This corroborates Freud's disclosures

concerning dreams--The relation of the somnambulic ego-complex and

the waking consciousness.

COURSE 83

The progress of this affection reached its maximum in

4-8 weeks--Thenceforth a decline in the plasticity of the

phenomena--All degrees of somnambulism were observable--Her

manifest character improved--Similar improvements seen in certain

cases of double consciousness--Conception that this phenomenon

has a teleological meaning for the future personality--As seen in

Jeanne d'Arc and Mary Reynolds II.

THE UNCONSCIOUS ADDITIONAL CREATIVE WORK 84

S. W. shows primary susceptibility of the unconscious--Binet

affirms the susceptibility of the hysteric is fifty times

greater than that of normal--Cryptomnesia, a second additional

creation--Cryptomnesic picture may enter consciousness

intra-physically--Unconscious plagiarism explained--Zarathustra

example--Glossolalia--Helen Smith's Martian language--The names

in Ivenes' mystic system show rudimentary glossolalia--The

Cryptomnesic picture may enter consciousness as a hallucination--Or

arrive at consciousness by motor automatism--By automatisms regions

formerly sealed are made accessible--Hypermnesia--Thought-reading

a prototype for extraordinary intuitive knowledge of somnambulists

and some normal persons--Association-concordance--Possibility

that concept and feeling are not always clearly separated in the

unconscious--S. W.'s mentality must be regarded as extraordinary.

CHAPTER II

THE ASSOCIATION METHOD 94

LECTURE I.--Formula for test--Disturbances of reaction

as complex-indicators--Discovery of a culprit by means of

test--Disturbances of reaction show emotional rather than

intellectual causes--Principal types--Value of the experiment in

dealing with neurotics.

LECTURE II.--FAMILIAR CONSTELLATIONS 119

Dr. Fürst's researches--Effect of environment and education

on reactions--Effect of parental discord on children--Unconscious

tendency to repetition of parental mistakes--Case of pathological

association-concordance between mother and daughter--Neurosis, a

counter-argument against the personality with which the patient is

most nearly concerned--How to free the individual from unconscious

attachments to the milieu.

LECTURE III.--EXPERIENCES CONCERNING THE PSYCHIC LIFE OF

THE CHILD 132

Importance of emotional processes in children--Little Anna's

questions--Arrival of the baby brother--Anna's embarrassment and

hostility--Introversion of the child--Of the adolescent--Her

pathological interest in the Messina earthquake--The meaning of

her fear--Anna's theories of birth--Meaning of her questions--Her

father tells her something of origin of her little brother--Her

fears now subside--The unconscious meaning of the child's wish to

sit up late--Anna's equivalent to the "lumpf-theory" of little

Hans--The stork-theory again--Author's remarks on the sexual

enlightenment of the child.

CHAPTER III

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE FATHER IN THE DESTINY OF THE

INDIVIDUAL 156

Psychosexual relationship of child to father--Fürst's

experiments quoted--The association experiment typical for

man's psychological life--Adaptation to father--Father-complex

productive of neurosis--Father-complex in man with masochistic and

homosexual trends--Peasant woman "her father's favourite," tragic

effect of the unconscious constellation--Case of eight-year-old

boy with enuresis--Enuresis a sexual surrogate--Importance of

infantile sexuality in life--Hence necessity for psychoanalytic

investigation--The Jewish religion and the father-complex--Parental

power guides the child like a higher controlling fate--The conflict

for the development of the individual--Father-complex in Book of

Tobias.

CHAPTER IV

A CONTRIBUTION TO THE PSYCHOLOGY OF RUMOUR 176

Investigation of a rumour in a girls' school--The rumour arose

from a dream--Teacher's suspicions--Was the rumour an invention

and not, as alleged, the recital of a dream?--Interpolations

in dreams--Collection of evidence--Duplication of persons an

expression of their significance both in dreams and in dementia

præcox--The additions and interpolations represent intensive

unconscious participation--Hearsay evidence--Remarks.

EPICRISIS 188

The dream is analysed by rumour--Psychoanalysis explains the

construction of rumour--The dream gives the watchword for the

unconscious--It brings to expression the ready-prepared sexual

complexes--Marie X.'s unsatisfactory conduct brought her under

reproof--Her indignation and repressed feelings lead to the

dream--She uses this as an instrument of revenge against the

teacher--More investigation needed in the field of rumour.

CHAPTER V

ON THE SIGNIFICANCE OF NUMBER-DREAMS 191

Symbolism of numbers has acquired fresh interest from

Freud's investigations--Example of number dream of middle-aged

man--How the number originates--A second dream also contains a

number--Analysis--The wife's dream "Luke 137"--This dream is an

example of cryptomnesia.

CHAPTER VI

A CRITICISM OF BLEULER'S "THEORY OF SCHIZOPHRENIC NEGATIVISM" 200

Bleuler's concept of ambivalency and ambitendency--Every

tendency balanced by its opposite--Schizophrenic

negativism--Bleuler's summary of its causes--The painfulness of

the complex necessitates a censorship of its expression--Thought

disturbance the result of a complex--Thought pressure due to

schizophrenic introversion--Resistance springs from peculiar sexual

development--Schizophrenia shows a preponderance of introversion

mechanisms--The value of the complex theory concept.

CHAPTER VII

PSYCHOANALYSIS 206

Doctors know too little of psychology, and psychologists

of medicine--Strong prejudice aroused by Freud's conception of

the importance of the sexual moment--The commoner prejudices

discussed--Psychoanalysis not a method of suggestion or

reasoning--The unconscious content is reached _via_ the

conscious--Case of neurotic man with ergophobia for professional

work--Case of neurotic woman who wants another child--Resistances

against the analyst--Dream analysis the efficacious instrument

of analysis--The scientist's fear of superstition--The genesis

of dreams--Dream material is collected according to scientific

method--The rite of baptism analysed--When the unconscious

material fails, use the conscious--The physician's own complexes a

hindrance--Interpretations of Viennese School too one-sided--Sexual

phantasies both realistic and symbolic--The dream the subliminal

picture of the individual's present psychology--Symbolism a process

of comprehension by analogy--Analysis helps the neurotic to

exchange his unconscious conflict for the real conflict of life.

CHAPTER VIII

ON PSYCHOANALYSIS 226

Difficulties of public discussion--Competence to form an

opinion presupposes a knowledge of the fundamental literature--The

abandoned trauma theory--Fixation--The importance of the infantile

past--Analysis discloses existence of innumerable unconscious

phantasies--Œdipus complex--Fixation discussed--The critical

moment for the outbreak of the neurosis--Predisposition--Author's

energic view point--Application of the libido to the

obstacle--Repression--Neurosis an act of adaptation that

has failed--The energic view does not alter the technique of

analysis--Analysis re-establishes the connection between the

conscious and unconscious--Is a constructive task of great

importance.

CHAPTER IX

ON SOME CRUCIAL POINTS IN PSYCHOANALYSIS 236

LETTER I.--LOY 236

The dream a means of re-establishing the moral equipoise--The

dreamer finds therein the material for reconstruction--Methods

discussed--The part played by "faith in the doctor"--Abreaction.

LETTER II.--JUNG 238

For the patient any method that works is good, though some

more valuable than others--The doctor must choose what commends

itself to his scientific conscience--Why the author gave up the

use of hypnotism--Three cases quoted--Breuer and Freud's method

a great advance in psychic treatment--Evolution of author's

views--Importance of conception that behind the neurosis lies

a moral conflict--Divergence from Freud's sexual theory of

neurosis--The doctor's responsibility for the cleanliness of his

own hands--Necessity that the psychoanalyst should be analysed--He

is successful in so far as he has succeeded in his own moral

development.

LETTER III.--LOY 244

Opportunism _v._ scientific honour--Psychoanalysis no more

than hypnotism gets rid of "transference"--Cases of enuresis

nocturna, and of washing-mania treated by hypnosis--On what grounds

should such useful treatment be dispensed with?--The difficulty of

finding a rational solution for the moral conflict--The doctor's

dilemma of the two consciences.

LETTER IV.--JUNG 248

Author's standpoint that of the scientist, not

practical physician--The analyst works in spite of the

transference--Psychoanalysis not the only way--Sometimes less

efficacious than any known method--Cases must be selected--For the

author and his patients it is the best way--The real solution of

the moral conflict comes from within, and then only because the

patient has been brought to a new standpoint.

LETTER. V.--LOY 252

"What is truth?"--Parable of the prism--All man attains is

relative truth--Fanaticism is the enemy to science--Psychoanalysis

a method of dealing with basic motives of the human soul--Must not

each case be treated individually?--Morals are above all relative.

LETTER VI.--JUNG 256

Definition of psychoanalysis--Technique--So-called chance is

the law--Rules well-nigh impossible--The patients' unconscious is

the analysts' best confederate--Questions of morality and education

find solutions for themselves in later stages of analysis.

LETTER VII.--LOY 258

Contradictions in psychoanalytic literature--Should the doctor

canalise the patient's libido?--Does he not indirectly suggest

dreams to patient?

LETTER VIII.--JUNG 261

Different view-points in psychoanalysis--_Vide_ Freud's

causality and Adler's finality--Discussion of meaning of

transference--The meaning of "line of least resistance"--Man as a

herd-animal--Rich endowment with social sense--Should take pleasure

in life--Error as necessary to progress as truth--Patient must be

trained in independence--Analyst is caught in his own net if he

makes hard-and-fast rules--Through the analyst's suggestion only

the outer form, never the content, is determined--The patient may

mislead the doctor, but this is disadvantageous and delays him.

LETTER IX.--LOY 267

The line of least resistance is a compromise with all

necessities--The analyst as accoucheur--The neurotic's faith in

authority--Altruism innate in man--He advances in response to his

own law.

LETTER X.--JUNG 270

Transference is the central problem of analysis--It may be

positive or negative--Projection of infantile phantasies on the

doctor--Biological "duties"--The psyche does not only react, but

gives its individual reply--We have an actual sexual problem

to-day--Evidences thereof--We have no real sexual morality, only

a legal attitude--Our moral views are too undifferentiated--The

neurotic is ill not because he has lost his faith in morality, but

because he has not found the new authority in himself.

CHAPTER X

ON THE IMPORTANCE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOPATHOLOGY 278

Content of the unconscious--Defined as sum of all psychical

processes below the threshold of consciousness--Answer to question

how does the unconscious behave in neurosis found in its effect

on normal consciousness--Example of a merchant--Compensating

function of the unconscious--Symptomatic acts--Nebuchadnezzar's

dream discussed--Intuitive ideas, and insane manifestations

both emanate from the unconscious--Eccentricities pre-exist

a breakdown--In mental disorder unconscious processes

break-through into consciousness and disturb equilibrium--True

also in fanaticism--Pathological compensation in case of

paranoia--Unconscious processes have to struggle against

resistances in the conscious mind--Distortion--In morbid conditions

the function of the unconscious is one of compensation.

CHAPTER XI

A CONTRIBUTION TO THE STUDY OF PSYCHOLOGICAL TYPES 287

Striking contrast between hysteria and dementia

præcox--Extroversion and Introversion--Repression--Hysterical

transference and repression the mechanism of

extroversion--Depreciation of the external world the mechanism

of introversion--The nervous temperament pre-exists the

illness--Examples of the two types from literature--James's Tough

and Tender-minded--Warringer's Sympathy and Abstraction--Schiller's

Naïf and Sentimental--Nietzsche's Apollien and Dionysian--Gross's

Weakness and Reinforcement of Consecutive Function--Freud and

Adler's Causalism and Finality--The fundamental need for further

study of the two types.

CHAPTER XII

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF DREAMS 299

Psychic structure of dream contrasted with that of conscious

thought--Why a dream seems meaningless--Freud's empirical

evidence--Technique, analysis of a dream--The causal and

teleological view of the dream--A typical dream with mythological

content--Compensating function of dreams--Phallic symbols.

CHAPTER XIII

THE CONTENT OF THE PSYCHOSES 312

Discussion of psychological _v._ physical origin of

mental disease--Mediæval conception of madness as work of evil

spirits--Development of materialistic idea that diseases of

the mind are diseases of the brain--Psychiatrists have come to

regard function as accessory to the organ--Analysis of patients

entering Burgholzi Asylum--A quarter only show lesions of the

brain--The psychiatry of the future must advance by way of

psychology--Cases of dementia præcox illustrating recent methods

in psychiatry--The development of the outbreak at a moment of

great emotion--Delusions determined by deficiencies in the

patient's personality--Difficulties of investigation--Temporary

remission of mental symptoms proves that reason survives in

spite of preoccupation with diseased thoughts--Case of dementia

præcox, showing exceeding richness of phantasy formations, and the

continuity of ideas.

PART II. 336

Freud's case of paranoid dementia--(Schreber case)--Two ways

of regarding Goethe's "Faust"--Retrospective and prospective

understanding--The scientific mind thinks causally--This is

but one half of comprehension--Pathological and mythological

formations, both structures of the imagination--Flournoy's

case--Misunderstanding of author's analysis of it--Adaptations

only possible to the introverted type by means of a

world-philosophy--The extroverted type always arrives at a

general theory subsequently--Psychasthenia is the neurosis of

introversion, hysteria of extroversion--These diseases typify the

general attitude of the types to the phenomena of the external

world--The extreme difference in type a great obstacle to common

understanding--The general result of the constructive method is a

subjective view, not a scientific theory.

CHAPTER XIV

FOREWORD TO NEW EDITION 352

Adler's views more fully discussed--The psychological events

of the war force the problems of the unconscious on society--The

psychology of individuals corresponds to the psychology of nations.

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF THE UNCONSCIOUS PROCESSES 354

I. THE BEGINNING OF PSYCHOANALYSIS

The evolution of psychology--How little it has had to offer

to the psychiatrist till Freud's discoveries--The origin and

reception of psychoanalysis--The prejudiced attitude of certain

physicians--Freud's view that his best work arouses greatest

resistances--The Nancy School--Breuer's first case--"The talking

cure"--The English "shock theory"--Followed by the trauma

theory--Discussion of predisposition--Author's case of hysteria

following fright from horses--The pathogenic importance of the

hidden erotic conflict.

II. THE SEXUAL THEORY 367

Humanity evolves its own restrictions on sexuality for the

sake of the advance of civilisation--The presence of a grave

sexual problem testifies to the need of more differentiated

conceptions--The erotic conflict largely unconscious--Neurosis

represents the unsuccessful attempt of the individual to solve

the problem in his own case--To understand the idea of the

dream as a wish-fulfilment the manifest and latent content must

be taken in review--The nature of unconscious wishes--Dream

analysis leads to the deepest recesses of the unconscious--The

analyst compared to the accoucheur--The highest development

of the individual is sometimes in complete conflict with the

herd-morality--Psychoanalysis provides the patient with a

philosophy of life founded upon insight--Man has within himself

the essence of morals--Both the moral and immoral man must accept

the corrective of the unconscious--Our sexual morality too

undifferentiated--Freud's sexual theory right to a point but too

one-sided.

III. THE OTHER VIEWPOINT: THE WILL TO POWER 381

The superman--Nietzsche's failure to justify his theories by

his life--His view also too one-sided--Adler's theory of neurosis

founded upon the principle of power--Case of hysteria discussed

from the standpoint of unconscious motivation.

IV. THE TWO TYPES OF PSYCHOLOGY 391

Thinking the natural adaptive function for introvert,

feeling for the extrovert--The sexual theory promulgated from

the standpoint of feeling, the power theory from that of

thought--Criticism of both theories indispensable--Symptoms of

neurosis are aims at a new synthesis of life--Definition of

positive value as energy in a useful form--In neurosis energy

is located in an inferior form--Sublimation a transference of

sexual energy to another sphere--Destiny often frustrates purely

rational sublimations--Rationalism, the world-war an example of

its breakdown--So-called "disposable energy"--Case of American

business-man--The types have different problems--The feelings of

the introvert relatively conventional and undifferentiated--The

thinking of the extrovert colourless and dry--The types apt to

marry, but not to understand one another--The theories of the

types led to a new theory of psychogenic disturbances--Neurosis

postulates the existence of an unconscious conflict--New theory

declares it to lie between the natural conscious function and the

repressed undifferentiated co-function--Repressed feelings of

introvert projected as vague physical symptoms--Repressed thought

of extrovert projected as hysterical symptoms--In analysis the

libido liberated from the unconscious phantasies is projected on

to the physician--It finds its way into the transference, which in

turn is dissolved--The new channel for the libido is already found.

V. THE PERSONAL AND THE IMPERSONAL UNCONSCIOUS 408

Transference a projection of unconscious contents on to

the physician--Contents of the unconscious at first personal,

later impersonal--Primordial images--A differentiation of the

unconscious contents necessary--The deepest layers are now

designated impersonal, absolute, collective, or super-personal--The

libido now liberated in analysis sinks down into the unconscious,

reviving original "thought-feelings"--Example in Mayer's idea of

conservation of energy--The world-wide existence of the primordial

images--The concept of God--Enantiodromia, the world-war an example

of this--In analysis the pairs of opposites are torn asunder--This

necessitates that patients learn to differentiate between the ego

and non-ego.

VI. THE SYNTHETIC OR CONSTRUCTIVE METHOD 417

The transcendental function, a new way of regarding the

psychological materials as a bridge between the two sides of the

psyche--Example of method of synthesis of symbols of absolute

unconscious--Dream of the crab.

VII. ANALYTICAL (CAUSAL-REDUCTIVE) INTERPRETATION 419

The unconscious homosexual tendencies--The causal-reductive

method does not strictly follow the patient's own

associations--It does not interpret the dream as subjective

phenomenon--Interpretation on both objective and subjective planes

necessary.

VIII. THE SYNTHETIC (CONSTRUCTIVE) INTERPRETATION 422

Homosexuality in this case an unconscious defence against

acceptance of "more dangerous" tendencies--Fascination an

unconscious compulsion--"Identifications" have power so long as

they remain unconscious--Union of subjective and objective view of

dream gives its full meaning.

IX. THE DOMINANTS OF THE SUPER-PERSONAL UNCONSCIOUS 426

Projection in relation to transference--Projection of certain

attributes not explicable on the ground of personal contents, but

must be referred to the super-personal--Collective unconscious

is sediment of all the experience of the universe throughout

time--Certain features that have become prominent, _e.g._ gods

and demons, are called "dominants" and have a character of

universal psychological truth--These dominants become conscious

as projections, explaining infatuations, incompatibilities,

unconscious conflicts, etc.--The "magical demon" is the most

primitive concept of God--Analysis traces home these projections

to the non-ego--Fear belongs to the dominants of the collective

unconscious--The next step is the detachment of these projections

from the objects of consciousness--This liberates energy for

further progress--The transcendental function--The hero-myth

symbolises this differentiation of ego from non-ego.

X. THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE TYPES OF INTROVERSION AND EXTROVERSION 437

The types apprehend life by opposite methods--All psychic

images have two sides, one directed towards the object, the

other towards the soul (idea)--The feelings of the introvert

are under repression, the thoughts of the extrovert--Analytical

development of the unconscious brings out the secondary function

in each type--The pairs of opposites being thus demonstrated need

for synthesis arises--This is a compensatory process leading to

enrichment of the individual.

XI. GENERAL REMARKS ON THE THERAPY 441

The unconscious is a source of danger when the individual

is not at one with it--It also creates harmonious prospective

combinations which can be an effective source of wisdom for the

individual--The use of the phantasies in conjunction with conscious

elaboration is the transcendental function--Not every individual

passes through all the stages described--For some the end of

analysis is reached when the cure is achieved--Others are under a

moral necessity to reach a full psychological development.

CONCLUSION 443

CHAPTER XV

THE CONCEPT OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 445

I. THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN THE PERSONAL AND IMPERSONAL

UNCONSCIOUS.

Development of concepts--Removal of repression does not

empty the unconscious--Repression is a special phenomenon--The

unconscious contains not only repressed material, but subliminal

sense-impressions which have never reached consciousness--It is

constantly busied with new phantasy formation--Patients are urged

to retain their hold on repressed materials that analysis has

brought into consciousness--Prolonged analysis reveals contents

other than those of a personal nature--Necessity to differentiate a

layer called the "personal" unconscious whose materials originate

in the personal past--Their omission from consciousness constitutes

a defect or neglect--The moral reaction against this neglect shows

they could become conscious if sufficient trouble were taken--The

gradual transference of the personal unconscious contents into

consciousness extends the periphery of consciousness.

II. THE CONSEQUENCES OF ASSIMILATION OF THE UNCONSCIOUS 449

First result is increased self-consciousness--May lead to

a sense of God-Almightiness in one type, or to overwhelming

self-depreciation in the other--A result of ascribing to

oneself qualities or vices that do not belong individually but

collectively--The collective pysche divided into collective

mind and collective soul--The collective contains the "parties

inférieures" of Janet; the conscious and personal unconscious

contains the "parties supérieures"--Incorporation of the impersonal

unconscious leads to a dissolution of the pairs of opposites--As

seen in neurotic, who combines megalomania and sense of inferiority

in extreme degree--Primitive man possesses the collective vices and

virtues in an undifferentiated way--Mental conflict only begins

with conscious personal development--Desire to be good brings about

repression of the bad--Collective view-point, though necessary,

is dangerous to individuality--Collective psyche is the result of

psychological differentiation of the gregarious instincts--Dangers

of identification with collective psyche--Recognition of the

different psychology of the types a safeguard, promoting a proper

respect for individuality of the opposite type--Individuation

hampered by man's suggestibility and tendency to imitation.

III. THE INDIVIDUAL AS AN EXCERPT OF THE COLLECTIVE PSYCHE 456

The personal unconscious contains repressed materials capable

of becoming conscious--By also incorporating the impersonal

contents the state of God-Almightiness is brought about--The

"persona" a mask for the collective psyche--Development of

God-Almightiness, physical concomitants--Dissolution of the

persona results in release of phantasy--Analogy with mental

derangement--Difference consists in that the unconscious is at

first deliberately brought into consciousness by consent, and later

that it is recognised as having psychic validity only.

IV. ENDEAVOURS TO FREE THE INDIVIDUALITY FROM THE COLLECTIVE

PSYCHE 459

(i) _The Regressive Restoration of the Persona_--Three ways

open, (_a_) Regressive application of a reductive theory; (_b_)

application of God-Almightiness as a "virile protest;" (_c_)

recognition of the primitive archaic collective psychology in

man--Temptation to solve the difficulty by forgetting one has an

unconscious--This does not work--The unconscious cannot be deprived

of libido, nor its activity stilled for any length of time.

(ii) _Identification with the Collective

Psyche_--God-Almightiness developed into a system--Identification

increases feeling for life or sense of power, according to the

type--This, mystically understood, is the "yearning for the

mother" of the hero-myth, or the "incest-wish" of Freud--It is the

collective psyche that has to be overcome--Identification with the

collective psyche is a failure because being lost in it, a bearable

or satisfactory life is impossible.

V. LEADING PRINCIPLES FOR THE TREATMENT OF COLLECTIVE PSYCHE 468

Neither regressive restoration of the persona,

nor identification with collective psyche solves the

problem--Psychology will have to admit a plurality of

principles--Only the collective part of individual psychology

can be the subject of scientific study--What belongs to the

psychology of the individual requires its own text-book--The

persona must be strictly separated from the concept of the

individual--What is individual is the remnant which can

never be merged into the collective--Analysis of the persona

transfers greater value on to the individuality, increasing its

conflict with collectivity--The persona is identical with a

one-sided attitude, being a typical attitude in which thought

or feeling or intuition dominates, causing relative repression

of the other functions--Dissolution of persona indispensable

to individuation--The more individual a person is the more he

assimilates and develops those attributes that are the basis of a

collective concept of human nature--Unifying function between the

conscious and unconscious, between the collective and individual is

found in the phantasies--Phantasy the creative soil for everything

that has brought development to humanity--Phantasy not to be

taken literally but hermeneutically--Hermeneutics adds analogies

to those already given--Hermeneutical interpretation indicates

the means of synthesis of the individual, provided as soon as the

symbolic outlines of the path are understood they are followed

up--Co-operation and honest endeavour essential to cure--The moral

factor determines the cure--"Life-lines" have a short and ephemeral

value--Dreams are compensatory to conscious thinking--Watch must be

kept for dreams indicative of causes of error--Hence the patient

must remain in contact with the unconscious--End of analysis

reached when enough psychological insight and mastery of technique

is acquired to enable individual to follow his ever-changing

life-line, and to retain hold on the libido currents which give

conscious support to his individuality.

SUMMARY 472

INDEX 475

ANALYTICAL PSYCHOLOGY

CHAPTER I

ON THE PSYCHOLOGY AND PATHOLOGY OF SO-CALLED OCCULT PHENOMENA[1]

In that wide field of psychopathic deficiency where Science has

demarcated the diseases of epilepsy, hysteria and neurasthenia, we meet

scattered observations concerning certain rare states of consciousness

as to whose meaning authors are not yet agreed. These observations

spring up sporadically in the literature on narcolepsy, lethargy,

_automatisme ambulatoire_, periodic amnesia, double consciousness,

somnambulism, pathological dreamy states, pathological lying, etc.

These states are sometimes attributed to epilepsy, sometimes

to hysteria, sometimes to exhaustion of the nervous system, or

neurasthenia, sometimes they are allowed all the dignity of a disease

_sui generis_. Patients occasionally work through a whole graduated

scale of diagnoses, from epilepsy, through hysteria, up to simulation.

In practice, on the one hand, these conditions can only be separated

with great difficulty from the so-called neuroses, sometimes even are

indistinguishable from them; on the other, certain features in the

region of pathological deficiency present more than a mere analogical

relationship not only with phenomena of normal psychology, but also

with the psychology of the supernormal, of genius. Various as are the

individual phenomena in this region, there is certainly no case that

cannot be connected by some intermediate example with the other typical

cases. This relationship in the pictures presented by hysteria and

epilepsy is very close. Recently the view has even been maintained that

there is no clean-cut frontier between epilepsy and hysteria, and that

a difference is only to be noted in extreme cases. Steffens says, for

example[2]--"We are forced to the conclusion that in essence hysteria

and epilepsy are not fundamentally different, that the cause of the

disease is the same, but is manifest in a diverse form, in different

intensity and permanence."

The demarcation of hysteria and certain borderline cases of epilepsy

from congenital and acquired psychopathic mental deficiency likewise

presents the greatest difficulties. The symptoms of one or other disease

everywhere invade the neighbouring realm, so violence is done to the

facts when they are split off and considered as belonging to one or

other realm. The demarcation of psychopathic mental deficiency from the

normal is an absolutely impossible task, the difference is everywhere

only "more or less." The classification in the region of mental

deficiency itself is confronted by the same difficulty. At best, certain

classes can be separated off which crystallise round some well-marked

nucleus through having peculiarly typical features. Turning away from

the two large groups of intellectual and emotional deficiency, there

remain those deficiencies coloured pre-eminently by hysteria or epilepsy

(epileptoid) or neurasthenia, which are not notably deficiency of the

intellect or of feeling. It is essentially in this region, insusceptible

of any absolute classification, that the above-named conditions play

their part. As is well known, they can appear as part manifestations

of a typical epilepsy or hysteria, or can exist separately in the

realm of psychopathic mental deficiency, where their qualifications of

epileptic or hysterical are often due to the non-essential accessory

features. It is thus the rule to place somnambulism among hysterical

diseases, because it is occasionally a phenomenon of severe hysteria,

or because mild so-called hysterical symptoms may accompany it. Binet

says: "Il n'y a pas une somnambulisme, état nerveux toujours identique

à lui-même, il y a des somnambulismes." As one of the manifestations

of a severe hysteria, somnambulism is not an unknown phenomenon, but

as a pathological entity, as a disease _sui generis_, it must be

somewhat rare, to judge by its infrequency in German literature on the

subject. So-called spontaneous somnambulism, resting upon a foundation

of hysterically-tinged psychopathic deficiency, is not a very common

occurrence and it is worth while to devote closer study to these cases,

for they occasionally present a mass of interesting particulars.

_Case of Miss Elise K._, aged 40, single; book-keeper in a large

business; no hereditary taint, except that it is alleged a brother

became slightly nervous after family misfortune and illness. Well

educated, of a cheerful, joyous nature, not of a saving disposition,

always occupied with some big idea. She was very kind-hearted and

gentle, did a great deal both for her parents, who were living in very

modest circumstances, and for strangers. Nevertheless she was not happy,

because she thought she did not understand herself. She had always

enjoyed good health till a few years ago, when she is said to have

been treated for dilatation of the stomach and tapeworm. During this

illness her hair became rapidly white, later she had typhoid fever. An

engagement was terminated by the death of her fiancé from paralysis. She

had been very nervous for a year and a half. In the summer of 1897 she

went away for change of air and treatment by hydropathy. She herself

says that for about a year she has had moments during work when her

thoughts seem to stand still, but she does not fall asleep. Nevertheless

she makes no mistakes in the accounts at such times. She has often been

to the wrong street and then suddenly noticed that she was not in the

right place. She has had no giddiness or attacks of fainting. Formerly

menstruation occurred regularly every four weeks, and without any

pain, but since she has been nervous and overworked it has come every

fourteen days. For a long time she has suffered from constant headache.

As accountant and book-keeper in a large establishment, the patient has

had very strenuous work, which she performs well and conscientiously. In

addition to the strenuous character of her work, in the last year she

had various new worries. Her brother was suddenly divorced. In addition

to her own work, she looked after his housekeeping, nursed him and his

child in a serious illness, and so on. To recuperate, she took a journey

on the 13th September to see a woman friend in South Germany. The great

joy at seeing her friend from whom she had been long separated, and

her participation in some festivities, deprived her of her rest. On

the 15th, she and her friend drank half a bottle of claret. This was

contrary to her usual habit. They then went for a walk in a cemetery,

where she began to tear up flowers and to scratch at the graves. She

remembered absolutely nothing of this afterwards. On the 16th she

remained with her friend without anything of importance happening. On

the 17th her friend brought her to Zürich. An acquaintance came with her

to the Asylum; on the way she spoke quite sensibly, but was very tired.

Outside the Asylum they met three boys, whom she described as the "three

dead people she had dug up." She then wanted to go to the neighbouring

cemetery, but was persuaded to come to the Asylum.

She is small, delicately formed, slightly anæmic. The heart is slightly

enlarged to the left, there are no murmurs, but some reduplication of

the sounds, the mitral being markedly accentuated. The liver dulness

reaches to the border of the ribs. Patella-reflex is somewhat increased,

but otherwise no tendon-reflexes. There is neither anæsthesia,

analgesia, nor paralysis. Rough examination of the field of vision with

the hands shows no contraction. The patient's hair is a very light

yellow-white colour; on the whole she looks her age. She gives her

history and tells recent events quite clearly, but has no recollection

of what took place in the cemetery at C. or outside the Asylum. During

the night of the 17th-18th she spoke to the attendant and declared she

saw the whole room full of dead people--looking like skeletons. She was

not at all frightened, but was rather surprised that the attendant did

not see them too. Once she ran to the window, but was otherwise quiet.

The next morning, while still in bed, she saw skeletons, but not in

the afternoon. The following night at four o'clock she awoke and heard

the dead children in the neighbouring cemetery cry out that they had

been buried alive. She wanted to go out to dig them up, but allowed

herself to be restrained. Next morning at seven o'clock she was still

delirious, but recalled accurately the events in the cemetery at C. and

those on approaching the Asylum. She stated that at C. she wanted to

dig up the dead children who were calling her. She had only torn up the

flowers to free the graves and to be able to get at them. In this state

Professor Bleuler explained to her that later on, when in a normal state

again, she would remember everything. The patient slept in the morning,

afterwards was quite clear, and felt herself relatively well. She did

indeed remember the attacks, but maintained a remarkable indifference

towards them. The following nights, with the exception of those of the

22nd and the 25th September, she again had slight attacks of delirium,

when once more she had to deal with the dead. The details of the attacks

differed, however. Twice she saw the dead in her bed, but she did not

appear to be afraid of them, she got out of bed frequently, however,

because she did not want "to inconvenience the dead"; several times she

wanted to leave the room.

After a few nights free from attacks there was a slight one on the

30th Sept., when she called the dead from the window. During the day

her mind was clear. On the 3rd of October she saw a whole crowd of

skeletons in the drawingroom, as she afterwards related, during full

consciousness. Although she doubted the reality of the skeletons, she

could not convince herself that it was a hallucination. The following

night, between twelve and one o'clock--the earlier attacks were usually

about this time--she was obsessed with the idea of dead people for

about ten minutes. She sat up in bed, stared at a corner and said:

"Well, come!--but they're not all there. Come along! Why don't you

come? The room is big enough, there's room for all; when all are there,

I'll come too." Then she lay down with the words: "Now they're all

there," and fell asleep again. In the morning she had not the slightest

recollection of any of these attacks. Very short attacks occurred in

the nights of the 4th, 6th, 9th, 13th and 15th of October, between

twelve and one o'clock. The last three occurred during the menstrual

period. The attendant spoke to her several times, showed her the lighted

street-lamps, and trees; but she did not react to this conversation.

Since then the attacks have altogether ceased. The patient has

complained about a number of troubles which she had had all along. She

suffered much from headache the morning after the attacks. She said it

was unbearable. Five grains of Sacch. lactis promptly alleviated this;

then she complained of pains in both fore-arms, which she described as

if it were a teno-synovitis. She regarded the bulging of the muscles in

flexion as a swelling, and asked to be massaged. Nothing could be seen

objectively, and no attention being paid to it, the trouble disappeared.

She complained exceedingly and for a long time about the thickening of

a toenail, even after the thickened part had been removed. Sleep was

often disturbed. She would not give her consent to be hypnotised for

the night-attacks. Finally on account of headache and disturbed sleep

she agreed to hypnotic treatment. She proved a good subject, and at the

first sitting fell into deep sleep with analgesia and amnesia.

In November she was again asked whether she could now remember the

attack on the 19th September which it had been suggested that she would

recall. It gave her great trouble to recollect it, and in the end she

could only state the chief facts, she had forgotten the details.

It should be added that the patient was not superstitious, and in

her healthy days had never particularly interested herself in the

supernatural. During the whole course of treatment, which ended on the

14th November, great indifference was evinced both to the illness and

the cure. Next spring the patient returned for out-patient treatment

of the headache, which had come back during the very hard work of

these months. Apart from this symptom her condition left nothing to

be desired. It was demonstrated that she had no remembrance of the

attacks of the previous autumn, not even of those of the 19th September

and earlier. On the other hand, in hypnosis she could recount the

proceedings in the cemetery and during the nightly disturbances.

By the peculiar hallucination and by its appearance our case recalls

the conditions which V. Kraft-Ebing has described as "protracted states

of hysterical delirium." He says: "Such conditions of delirium occur

in the slighter cases of hysteria. Protracted hysterical delirium is

built upon a foundation of temporary exhaustion. Excitement seems to

determine an outbreak, and it readily recurs. Most frequently there

is persecution-delirium with very violent anxiety, sometimes of a

religious or erotic character. Hallucinations of all the senses are

not rare, but illusions of sight, smell and feeling are the commonest,

and most important. The visual hallucinations are especially visions

of animals, pictures of corpses, phantastic processions in which dead

persons, devils and ghosts swarm. The illusions of hearing are simply

sounds (shrieks, howlings, claps of thunder) or local hallucinations,

frequently with a sexual content."

This patient's visions of corpses, occurring almost always in attacks,

recall the states occasionally seen in hystero-epilepsy. There likewise

occur specific visions which, in contrast with protracted delirium, are

connected with single attacks.

(1) A lady 30 years of age with _grande hystérie_ had twilight states in

which as a rule she was troubled by terrible hallucinations; she saw her

children carried away from her, wild beasts eating them up, and so on.

She has amnesia for the content of the individual attacks.[3]

(2) A girl of 17, likewise a semi-hysteric, saw in her attacks the

corpse of her dead mother approaching her to draw her to her. Patient

has amnesia for the attacks.[4]

These are cases of severe hysteria wherein consciousness rests upon a

profound stage of dreaming. The nature of the attack and the stability

of the hallucination alone show a certain kinship with our case, which

in this respect has numerous analogies with the corresponding states of

hysteria. For instance, with those cases where a psychical shock (rape,

etc.) was the occasion for the outbreak of hysterical attacks, and where

at times the original incident is lived over again, stereotyped in the

hallucination. But our case gets its specific mould from the identity of

the consciousness in the different attacks. It is an "Etat Second" with

its own memory and separated from the waking state by complete amnesia.

This differentiates it from the above-mentioned twilight states and

links it to the so-called somnambulic conditions.

Charcot[5] divides the somnambulic states into two chief classes:--

1. Delirium with well-marked incoordination of representation and action.

2. Delirium with co-ordinated action. This approaches the waking state.

Our case belongs to the latter class.

If by somnambulism be understood a state of systematised partial

waking,[6] any critical review of this affection must take account of

those exceptional cases of recurrent amnesias which have been observed

now and again. These, apart from nocturnal ambulism, are the simplest

conditions of systematised partial waking. Naef's case is certainly the

most remarkable in the literature. It deals with a gentleman of 32, with

a very bad family history presenting numerous signs of degeneration,

partly functional, partly organic. In consequence of over-work at the

age of 17 he had a peculiar twilight state with delusions, which lasted

some days and was cured with a sudden recovery of memory. Later he

was subject to frequent attacks of giddiness and palpitation of the

heart and vomiting; but these attacks were never attended by loss of

consciousness. At the termination of some feverish illness he suddenly

travelled from Australia to Zürich, where he lived for some weeks in

careless cheerfulness, and only came to himself when he read in the

paper of his sudden disappearance from Australia. He had a total and

retrograde amnesia for the several months which included the journey to

Australia, his sojourn there and the return journey.

Azam[7] has published a case of periodic amnesia. Albert X., 12 1/2

years old, of hysterical disposition, was several times attacked in

the course of a few years by conditions of amnesia in which he forgot

reading, writing and arithmetic, even at times his own language, for

several weeks at a stretch. The intervals were normal.

Proust[8] has published a case of _Automatisme ambulatoire_ with

pronounced hysteria which differs from Naef's in the repeated occurrence

of the attacks. An educated man, 30 years old, exhibits all the signs

of _grande hystérie;_ he is very suggestible, has from time to time,

under the influence of excitement, attacks of amnesia which last from

two days to several weeks. During these states he wanders about, visits

relatives, destroys various objects, incurs debts, and has even been

convicted of "picking pockets."

Boileau describes a similar case[9] of wandering-impulse. A widow of

22, highly hysterical, became terrified at the prospect of a necessary

operation for salpingitis; she left the hospital and fell into a state

of somnambulism, from which she awoke three days later with total

amnesia. During these three days she had travelled a distance of about

60 kilometres to fetch her child.

William James has described a case of an "ambulatory sort."[10]

The Rev. Ansel Bourne, an itinerant preacher, 30 years of age,

psychopathic, had on a few occasions attacks of loss of consciousness

lasting one hour. One day (January 17, 1887) he suddenly disappeared

from Greene, after having taken 551 dollars out of the bank. He

remained hidden for two months. During this time he had taken a little

shop under the name of H. J. Browne in Norriston, Pa., and had carefully

attended to all purchases, although he had never done this sort of work

before. On March 14, 1887, he suddenly awoke and went back home, and had

complete amnesia for the interval.

Mesnet[11] publishes the following case:--

F., 27 years old, sergeant in the African regiment, was wounded in

the parietal bone at Bazeilles. Suffered for a year from hemiplegia,

which disappeared when the wound healed. During the course of his

illness the patient had attacks of somnambulism, with marked limitation

of consciousness; all the senses were paralysed, with the exception

of taste and a small portion of the visual sense. The movements

were co-ordinated, but obstacles in the way of their performance

were overcome with difficulty. During the attacks he had an absurd

collecting-mania. By various manipulations one could demonstrate a

hallucinatory content in his consciousness; for instance, when a stick

was put in his hand he would feel himself transported to a battle scene,

would place himself on guard, see the enemy approaching, etc.

Guinon and Sophie Waltke[12] made the following experiments on

hysterics:--

A blue glass was held in front of the eyes of a female patient during

a hysterical attack; she regularly saw the picture of her mother in

the blue sky. A red glass showed her a bleeding wound, a yellow one an

orange-seller or a lady with a yellow dress.

Mesnet's case reminds one of the cases of occasional attacks of

shrinkage of memory.

MacNish[13] communicates a similar case.

An apparently healthy young lady suddenly fell into an abnormally long

and deep sleep--it is said without prodromal symptoms. On awaking she

had forgotten the words for and the knowledge of the simplest things.

She had again to learn to read, write, and count; her progress was rapid

in this re-learning. After a second attack she again woke in her normal

state, but without recollection of the period when she had forgotten

things. These states alternated for more than four years, during which

consciousness showed continuity within the two states, but was separated

by an amnesia from the consciousness of the normal state.

These selected cases of various forms of changes of consciousness

all throw a certain light upon our case. Naef's case presents two

hysteriform eclipses of memory, one of which is marked by the appearance

of delusions, and the other by its long duration, contraction of the

field of consciousness, and desire to wander. The peculiar associated

impulses are specially clear in the cases of Proust and Mesnet. In our

case the impulsive tearing up of the flowers, the digging up of the

graves, form a parallel. The continuity of consciousness which the

patient presents in the individual attacks recalls the behaviour of

the consciousness in MacNish's case; hence our case may be regarded

as a transient phenomenon of alternating consciousness. The dreamlike

hallucinatory content of the limited consciousness in our case does not,

however, justify an unqualified assignment to this group of _double

consciousness_. The hallucinations in the second state show a certain

creativeness which seems to be conditioned by the auto-suggestibility

of this state. In Mesnet's case we noticed the appearance of

hallucinatory processes from simple stimulation of touch. The patient's

subconsciousness employs simple perceptions for the automatic

construction of complicated scenes which then take possession of the

limited consciousness. A somewhat similar view must be taken about

our patient's hallucinations; at least, the external conditions which

gave rise to the appearance of the hallucinations seem to strengthen

our supposition. The walk in the cemetery induces the vision of the

skeletons; the meeting with the three boys arouses the hallucination of

children buried alive whose voices the patient hears at night-time. She

arrived at the cemetery in a somnambulic state, which on this occasion

was specially intense in consequence of her having taken alcohol. She

performed actions almost instinctively about which her subconsciousness

nevertheless did receive certain impressions. (The part played here by

alcohol must not be underestimated. We know from experience that it does

not only act adversely upon these conditions, but, like every other

narcotic, it gives rise to a certain increase of suggestibility.) The

impressions received in somnambulism subconsciously form independent

growths, and finally reach perception as hallucinations. Thus our

case closely corresponds to those somnambulic dream-states which have

recently been subjected to a penetrating study in England and France.

These lapses of memory, which at first seem without content, gain a

content by means of accidental auto-suggestion, and this content builds

itself up automatically to a certain extent. It achieves no further

development, probably on account of the improvement now beginning,

and finally it disappears altogether as recovery sets in. Binet and

Féré have made numerous experiments on the implanting of suggestions

in states of partial sleep. They have shown, for example, that when a

pencil is put in the anæsthetic hand of a hysteric, letters of great

length are written automatically whose contents are unknown to the

patient's consciousness. Cutaneous stimuli in anæsthetic regions are

sometimes perceived as visual images, or at least as vivid associated

visual presentations. These independent transmutations of simple stimuli

must be regarded as primary phenomena in the formation of somnambulic

dream-pictures. Analogous manifestations occur in exceptional cases

within the sphere of waking consciousness. Goethe,[14] for instance,

states that when he sat down, lowered his head and vividly conjured up

the image of a flower, he saw it undergoing changes of its own accord,

as if entering into new combinations.

In half-waking states these manifestations are relatively frequent

in the so-called hypnagogic hallucinations. The automatisms which

the Goethe example illustrates are differentiated from the truly

somnambulic, inasmuch as the primary presentation is a conscious one

in this case; the further development of the automatism is maintained

within the definite limits of the original presentation, that is, within

the purely motor or visual region.

If the primary presentation disappears, or if it is never conscious at

all, and if the automatic development overlaps neighbouring regions,

we lose every possibility of a demarcation between waking automatisms

and those of the somnambulic state; this will occur, for instance,

if the presentation of a hand plucking the flower gets joined to the

perception of the flower or the presentation of the smell of the flower.

We can then only differentiate it by the more or less. In one case

we then speak of the "waking hallucinations of the normal," in the

other, of the dream-vision of the somnambulists. The interpretation

of our patient's attacks as hysterical becomes more certain by the

demonstration of a probably psychogenic origin of the hallucination.

This is confirmed by her troubles, headache and teno-synovitis, which

have shown themselves amenable to suggestive treatment. The ætiological

factor alone is not sufficient for the diagnosis of hysteria; it might

really be expected _a priori_ that in the course of a disease which is

so suitably treated by rest, as in the treatment of an exhaustion-state,

features would be observed here and there which could be interpreted

as manifestations of exhaustion. The question arises whether the

early lapses and later somnambulic attacks could not be conceived as

states of exhaustion, so-called "neurasthenic crises." We know that in

the realm of psychopathic mental deficiency there can arise the most

diverse epileptoid accidents, whose classification under epilepsy or

hysteria is at least doubtful. To quote C. Westphal: "On the basis of

numerous observations, I maintain that the so-called epileptoid attacks

form one of the most universal and commonest symptoms in the group of

diseases which we reckon among the mental diseases and neuropathies; the

mere appearance of one or more epileptic or epileptoid attacks is not

decisive for its course and prognosis. As mentioned, I have used the

concept of epileptoid in the widest sense for the attack itself."[15]

The epileptoid moments of our case are not far to seek; the objection

can, however, be raised that the colouring of the whole picture is

hysterical in the extreme. Against this, however, it must be stated

that every somnambulism is not _eo ipso_ hysterical. Occasionally

states occur in typical epilepsy which to experts seem parallel with

somnambulic states,[16] or which can only be distinguished by the

existence of genuine convulsions.[17]

As Diehl shows,[18] in neurasthenic mental deficiency crises also occur

which often confuse the diagnosis. A definite presentation-content

can even create a stereotyped repetition in the individual crisis.

Lately Mörchen has published a case of epileptoid neurasthenic twilight

state.[19]

I am indebted to Professor Bleuler for the report of the following

case:--

An educated gentleman of middle age--without epileptic antecedents--had

exhausted himself by many years of over-strenuous mental work. Without

other prodromal symptoms (such as depression, etc.) he attempted suicide

during a holiday; in a peculiar twilight state he suddenly threw himself

into the water from a bank, in sight of many persons. He was at once

pulled out and retained but a fleeting remembrance of the occurrence.

Bearing these observations in mind, neurasthenia must be allowed to

account for a considerable share in the attacks of our patient, Miss

E. K. The headaches and the teno-synovitis point to the existence of

a relatively mild hysteria, generally latent, but becoming manifest

under the influence of exhaustion. The genesis of this peculiar illness

explains the relationship which has been described between epilepsy,

hysteria and neurasthenia.

_Summary._--Miss Elise K. is a psychopathic defective with a tendency

to hysteria. Under the influence of nervous exhaustion she suffers from

attacks of epileptoid giddiness whose interpretation is uncertain at

first sight. Under the influence of an unusually large dose of alcohol

the attacks develop into definite somnambulism with hallucinations,

which are limited in the same way as dreams to accidental external

perceptions. When the nervous exhaustion is cured the hysterical

manifestations disappear.

In the region of psychopathic deficiency with hysterical colouring, we

encounter numerous phenomena which show, as in this case, symptoms of

diverse defined diseases, which cannot be attributed with certainty

to any one of them. These phenomena are partially recognised to be

independent; for instance, pathological lying, pathological reveries,

etc. Many of these states, however, still await thorough scientific

investigation; at present they belong more or less to the domain of

scientific gossip. Persons with habitual hallucinations, and also the

inspired, exhibit these states; they draw the attention of the crowd to

themselves, now as poet or artist, now as saviour, prophet or founder of

a new sect.

The genesis of the peculiar frame of mind of these persons is for the

most part lost in obscurity, for it is only very rarely that one of

these remarkable personalities can be subjected to exact observation.

In view of the often great historical importance of these persons, it

is much to be wished that we had some scientific material which would

enable us to gain a closer insight into the psychological development of

their peculiarities. Apart from the now practically useless productions

of the pneumatological school at the beginning of the nineteenth

century, German scientific literature is very poor in this respect;

indeed, there seems to be real aversion from investigation in this

field. For the facts so far gathered we are indebted almost exclusively

to the labours of French and English workers. It seems at least

desirable that our literature should be enlarged in this respect. These

considerations have induced me to publish some observations which will

perhaps help to further our knowledge concerning the relationship of

hysterical twilight-states and enlarge the problems of normal psychology.

CASE OF SOMNAMBULISM IN A PERSON WITH NEUROPATHIC INHERITANCE

(SPIRITUALISTIC MEDIUM).

The following case was under my observation in the years 1899 and

1900. As I was not in medical attendance upon Miss S. W., a physical

examination for hysterical stigmata unfortunately could not be made.

I kept a complete diary of the séances, which I filled up after each

sitting. The following report is a condensed account from these notes.

Out of regard for Miss S. W. and her family a few unimportant dates have

been altered and a few details omitted from the story, which for the

most part is composed of very intimate matters.

Miss S. W., 15 1/2 years old. Reformed Church. The paternal grandfather

was highly intelligent, a clergyman with frequent waking hallucinations

(generally visions, often whole dramatic scenes with dialogues, etc.).

A brother of the grandfather was an imbecile eccentric, who also saw

visions. A sister of the grandfather, a peculiar, odd character. The

paternal grandmother after some fever in her 20th year (typhoid?) had

a trance which lasted three days, from which she did not awake until

the crown of her head had been burned by a red-hot iron. During states

of excitement later on she had fainting fits which were nearly always

followed by a brief somnambulism during which she uttered prophesies.

Her father was likewise a peculiar, original personality with bizarre

ideas. All three had waking hallucinations (second-sight, forebodings,

etc.). A third brother was also eccentric and odd, talented but

one-sided. The mother has an inherited mental defect often bordering

on psychosis. The sister is a hysteric and visionary and a second

sister suffers from "nervous heart attacks." Miss S. W. is slenderly

built, skull somewhat rachitic, without pronounced hydrocephalus, face

rather pale, eyes dark with a peculiar penetrating look. She has had

no serious illnesses. At school she passed for average, showed little

interest, was inattentive. As a rule her behaviour was rather reserved,

sometimes giving place, however, to exuberant joy and exaltation. Of

average intelligence, without special gifts, neither musical nor fond

of books, her preference is for handwork--and day dreaming. She was

often absent-minded, misread in a peculiar way when reading aloud,

instead of the word _Ziege_ (goat), for instance, said _Gais_, instead

of _Treppe_ (stair), _Stege_; this occurred so often that her brothers

and sisters laughed at her. There were no other abnormalities; there

were no serious hysterical manifestations. Her family were artisans and

business people with very limited interests. Books of mystical content

were never permitted in the family. Her education was faulty; there

were numerous brothers and sisters and thus the education was given

indiscriminately, and in addition the children had to suffer a great

deal from the inconsequent and vulgar, indeed sometimes rough, treatment

of their mother. The father, a very busy business man, could not pay

much attention to his children, and died when S. W. was not yet grown

up. Under these uncomfortable conditions it is no wonder that S. W.

felt herself shut in and unhappy. She was often afraid to go home, and

preferred to be anywhere rather than there. She was left a great deal

with playmates and grew up in this way without much polish. The level

of her education is relatively low and her interests correspondingly

limited. Her knowledge of literature is also very limited. She knows

the common school songs by heart, songs of Schiller and Goethe and a

few other poets, as well as fragments from a song book and the psalms.

Newspaper stories represent her highest level in prose. Up to the time

of her somnambulism she had never read any books of a serious nature.

At home and from friends she heard about table-turning and began to

take an interest in it. She asked to be allowed to take part in such

experiments, and her desire was soon gratified. In July 1899, she took

part a few times in table-turnings with some friends and her brothers

and sisters, but in joke. It was then discovered that she was an

excellent "medium." Some communications of a serious nature arrived

which were received with general astonishment. Their pastoral tone

was surprising. The spirit said he was the grandfather of the medium.

As I was acquainted with the family I was able to take part in these

experiments. At the beginning of August, 1899, the first attacks of

somnambulism took place in my presence. They took the following course:

S. W. became very pale, slowly sank to the ground, or into a chair, shut

her eyes, became cataleptic, drew several deep breaths, and began to

speak. In this stage she was generally quite relaxed; the reflexes of

the lids remained, as did also tactile sensation. She was sensitive to

unexpected noises and full of fear, especially in the initial stage.

She did not react when called by name. In somnambulic dialogues she

copied in a remarkably clever way her dead relations and acquaintances,

with all their peculiarities, so that she made a lasting impression

upon unprejudiced persons. She also so closely imitated persons whom

she only knew from descriptions that no one could deny her at least

considerable talent as an actress. Gradually gestures were added to

the simple speech, which finally led to "_attitudes passionelles_" and

complete dramatic scenes. She took up postures of prayer and rapture,

with staring eyes, and spoke with impassionate and glowing rhetoric. She

then made use exclusively of a literary German which she spoke with an

ease and assurance quite contrary to her usual uncertain and embarrassed

manner in the waking state. Her movements were free and of a noble

grace, depicting most beautifully her varying emotions. Her attitude

during these states was always changing and diverse in the different

attacks. Now she would lie for ten minutes to two hours on the sofa or

the ground, motionless, with closed eyes; now she assumed a half-sitting

posture and spoke with changed tone and speech; now she would stand

up, going through every possible pantomimic gesture. Her speech was

equally diversified and without rule. Now she spoke in the first person,

but never for long, generally to prophesy her next attack; now she

spoke of herself (and this was the most usual) in the third person.

She then acted as some other person, either some dead acquaintance or

some chance person, whose part she consistently carried out according

to the characteristics she herself conceived. At the end of the ecstasy

there usually followed a cataleptic state with _flexibilitas cerea_,

which gradually passed over into the waking state. The waxy anæmic

pallor which was an almost constant feature of the attacks made one

really anxious; it sometimes occurred at the beginning of the attack,

but often in the second half only. The pulse was then small but regular

and of normal frequency; the breathing gentle, shallow, or almost

imperceptible. As already stated, S. W. often predicted her attacks

beforehand; just before the attacks she had strange sensations, became

excited, rather anxious, and occasionally expressed thoughts of death:

"she will probably die in one of these attacks; during the attack her

soul only hangs to her body by a thread, so that often the body could

scarcely go on living." Once after the cataleptic attack tachypnoea

lasting two minutes was observed, with a respiration rate of 100 per

minute. At first the attacks occurred spontaneously, afterwards S. W.

could provoke them by sitting in a dark corner and covering her face

with her hands. Frequently the experiment did not succeed. She had

so-called "good" and "bad" days. The question of amnesia after the

attacks is unfortunately very obscure. This much is certain, that after

each attack she was quite accurately orientated as to what she had gone

through "during the rapture." It is, however, uncertain how much she

remembered of the conversations in which she served as medium, and of

changes in her surroundings during the attack. It often seemed that

she did have a fleeting recollection, for directly after waking she

would ask: "Who was here? Wasn't X or Y here? What did he say?" She

also showed that she was superficially aware of the content of the

conversations. She thus often remarked that the spirits had communicated

to her before waking what they had said. But frequently this was not

the case. If, at her request, the contents of the trance speeches were

repeated to her she was often annoyed about them. She was then often

sad and depressed for hours together, especially when any unpleasant

indiscretions had occurred. She would then rail against the spirits and

assert that next time she would beg her guides to keep such spirits far

away. Her indignation was not feigned, for in the waking state she could

but poorly control herself and her emotions, so that every mood was at

once mirrored in her face. At times she seemed only slightly or not at

all aware of the external proceedings during the attack. She seldom

noticed when any one left the room or came in. Once she forbade me to

enter the room when she was awaiting special communications which she

wished to keep secret from me. Nevertheless I went in, and sat down with

the three other sitters and listened to everything. Her eyes were open

and she spoke to those present without noticing me. She only noticed me

when I began to speak, which gave rise to a storm of indignation. She

remembered better, but still apparently only in indefinite outlines, the

remarks of those taking part which referred to the trance speeches or

directly to herself. I could never discover any definite rapport in this

connection.

In addition to these great attacks which seemed to follow a certain law

in their course, S. W. produced a great number of other automatisms.

Premonitions, forebodings, unaccountable moods and rapidly changing

fancies were all in the day's work. I never observed simple states of

sleep. On the other hand, I soon noticed that in the middle of a lively

conversation S. W. became quite confused and spoke without meaning in

a peculiar monotonous way, and looked in front of her dreamily with

half-closed eyes. These lapses usually lasted but a few minutes. Then

she would suddenly proceed: "Yes, what did you say?" At first she

would not give any particulars about these lapses, she would reply

off-hand that she was a little giddy, had a headache, and so on.

Later she simply said: "they were there again," meaning her spirits.

She was subjected to the lapses much against her will; she often tried

to defend herself: "I do not want to, not now, come some other time;

you seem to think I only exist for you." She had these lapses in the

streets, in business, in fact anywhere. If this happened to her in

the street, she leaned against a house and waited till the attack was

over. During these attacks, whose intensity was most variable, she

had visions; frequently also, especially during the attacks where she

turned extremely pale, she "wandered"; or as she expressed it, lost

her body, and got away to distant places whither her spirits led her.

Distant journeys during ecstasy strained her exceedingly; she was

often exhausted for hours after, and many times complained that the

spirits had again deprived her of much power, such overstrain was now

too much for her; the spirits must get another medium, etc. Once she

was hysterically blind for half an hour after one of these ecstasies.

Her gait was hesitating, feeling her way; she had to be led; she did

not see the candle which was on the table. The pupils reacted. Visions

occurred in great numbers without proper "lapses" (designating by this

word only the higher grade of distraction of attention). At first the

visions only occurred at the beginning of the sleep. Once after S. W.

had gone to bed the room became lighted up, and out of the general foggy

light there appeared white glittering figures. They were throughout

concealed in white veil-like robes, the women had a head-covering like

a turban, and a girdle. Afterwards (according to the statements of S.

W.), "the spirits were already there" when she went to bed. Finally she

also saw the figures in bright daylight, though still somewhat blurred

and only for a short time, provided there were no proper lapses, in

which case the figures became solid enough to take hold of. But S. W.

always preferred darkness. According to her account the content of the

vision was for the most part of a pleasant kind. Gazing at the beautiful

figures she received a feeling of delicious blessedness. More rarely

there were terrible visions of a dæmonic nature. These were entirely

confined to the night or to dark rooms. Occasionally S. W. saw black

figures in the neighbouring streets or in her room; once out in the dark

courtyard she saw a terrible copper-red face which suddenly stared at

her and frightened her. I could not learn anything satisfactory about

the first occurrence of the vision. She states that once at night, in

her fifth or sixth year, she saw her "guide," her grandfather (whom she

had never known). I could not get any objective confirmation from her

relatives of this early vision. Nothing of the kind is said to have

happened until her first séance. With the exception of the hypnagogic

brightness and the flashes, there were no rudimentary hallucinations,

but from the beginning they were of a systematic nature, involving all

the sense-organs equally. So far as concerns the intellectual reaction

to these phenomena it is remarkable with what curious sincerity she

regarded her dreams. Her entire somnambulic development, the innumerable

puzzling events, seemed to her quite natural. She looked at her whole

past in this light. Every striking event of earlier years stood to her

in necessary and clear relationship to her present condition. She was

happy in the consciousness of having found her real life-task. Naturally

she was unswervingly convinced of the reality of her visions. I often

tried to present her with some sceptical explanation, but she invariably

turned this aside; in her usual condition she did not clearly grasp a

reasoned explanation, and in the semi-somnambulic state she regarded

it as senseless in view of the facts staring her in the face. She once

said: "I do not know if what the spirits say and teach me is true,

neither do I know if they are those by whose names they call themselves,

but that my spirits exist there is no question. I see them before me, I

can touch them, I speak to them about everything I wish, as naturally

as I'm now talking to you. They must be real." She absolutely would

not listen to the idea that the manifestations were a kind of illness.

Doubts about her health or about the reality of her dream would distress

her deeply; she felt so hurt by my remarks that when I was present she

became reserved, and for a long time refused to experiment if I was

there; hence I took care not to express my doubts and thoughts aloud.

From her immediate relatives and acquaintances she received undivided

allegiance and admiration--they asked her advice about all kinds of

things. In time she obtained such an influence upon her followers that

three of her brothers and sisters likewise began to have hallucinations

of a similar kind. Their hallucinations generally began as night-dreams

of a very vivid and dramatic kind; these gradually extended into the

waking time, partly hypnagogic, partly hypnopompic. A married sister

had extraordinary vivid dreams which developed from night to night,

and these appeared in the waking consciousness; at first as obscure

illusions, next as real hallucinations, but they never reached the

plastic clearness of S. W.'s visions. For instance, she once saw in a

dream a black dæmonic figure at her bedside in animated conversation

with a white, beautiful figure, which tried to restrain the black one;

nevertheless the black one seized her and tried to choke her, then

she awoke. Bending over her she then saw a black shadow with a human

contour, and near by a white cloudy figure. The vision only disappeared

when she lighted a candle. Similar visions were repeated dozens of

times. The visions of the other two sisters were of a similar kind, but

less intense.

This particular type of attack with the complete visions and ideas had

developed in the course of less than a month, but never afterwards

exceeded these limits. What was later added to these was but the

extension of all those thoughts and cycles of visions which to a

certain extent were already indicated quite at the beginning. As well

as the "great" attacks and the lesser ones, there must also be noted

a third kind of state comparable to "lapse" states. These are the

_semi-somnambulic states_. They appeared at the beginning or at the

end of the "great" attacks, but also appeared without any connection

with them. They developed gradually in the course of the first month.

It is not possible to give a more precise account of the time of their

appearance. In this state a fixed gaze, brilliant eyes, and a certain

dignity and stateliness of movement are noticeable. In this phase S. W.

is herself, her own somnambulic ego.

She is fully orientated to the external world, but seems to stand

with one foot, as it were, in her dream-world. She sees and hears her

spirits, sees how they walk about in the room among those who form

the circle, and stand first by one person, then by another. She is in

possession of a clear remembrance of her visions, her journeys and the

instructions she receives. She speaks quietly, clearly and firmly and

is always in a serious, almost religious frame of mind. Her bearing

indicates a deeply religious mood, free from all pietistic flavour, her

speech is singularly uninfluenced by her guide's jargon compounded of

Bible and tract. Her solemn behaviour has a suffering, rather pitiful

aspect. She is painfully conscious of the great differences between

her ideal world at night and the rough reality of the day. This state

stands in sharp contrast to her waking existence; there is here no

trace of that unstable and inharmonious creature, that extravagant

nervous temperament which is so characteristic for the rest of her

relationships. Speaking with her, you get the impression of speaking

with a much older person who has attained through numerous experiences

to a sure harmonious footing. In this state she produced her best

results, whilst her romances correspond more closely to the conditions

of her waking interests. The semi-somnambulism usually appears

spontaneously, mostly during the table experiments, which sometimes

announced by this means that S. W. was beginning to know beforehand

every automatic communication from the table. She then usually stopped

the table-turning and after a short time passed more or less suddenly

into an ecstatic state. S. W. showed herself to be very sensitive. She

could divine and reply to simple questions thought of by a member of the

circle who was not a "medium," if only the latter would lay a hand on

the table or on her hand. Genuine thought-transference without direct

or indirect contact could never be achieved. In juxtaposition with the

obvious development of her whole personality the continued existence of

her earlier ordinary character was all the more startling. She imparted

with unconcealed pleasure all the little childish experiences, the

flirtations and love-secrets, all the rudeness and lack of education

of her parents and contemporaries. To every one who did not know her

secret she was a girl of fifteen and a half, in no respect unlike a

thousand other such girls. So much the greater was people's astonishment

when they got to know her in her other aspect. Her near relatives could

not at first grasp this change: to some extent they never altogether

understood it, so there was often bitter strife in the family, some of

them taking sides for and others against S. W., either with enthusiastic

over-valuation or with contemptuous censure of "superstition." Thus

did S. W., during the time I watched her closely, lead a curious,

contradictory life, a real "double life" with two personalities existing

side by side or closely following upon one another and contending for

the mastery. I now give some of the most interesting details of the

sittings in chronological order.

First and second sittings, August, 1899. S. W. at once undertook to

lead the "communications." The "psychograph," for which an upturned

glass tumbler was used, on which two fingers of the right hand were

laid, moved quick as lightning from letter to letter. (Slips of paper,

marked with letter and numbers, had been arranged in a circle round

the glass.) It was communicated that the "medium's" grandfather was

present and would speak to us. There then followed many communications

in quick sequence, of a most religious, edifying nature, in part in

properly made words, partly in words with the letters transposed, and

partly in a series of reversed letters. The last words and sentences

were produced so quickly that it was not possible to follow without

first inverting the letters. The communications were once interrupted in

abrupt fashion by a new communication, which announced the presence of

the writer's grandfather. On this occasion the jesting observation was

made: "Evidently the two 'spirits' get on very badly together." During

this attempt darkness came on. Suddenly S. W. became very disturbed,

sprang up in terror, fell on her knees and cried "There, there, do you

not see that light, that star there?" and pointed to a dark corner of

the room. She became more and more disturbed, and called for a light in

terror. She was pale, wept, "it was all so strange, she did not know in

the least what was the matter with her." When a candle was brought she

became calm again. The experiments were now stopped.

At the next sitting, which took place in the evening, two days later,

similar communications from S. W.'s grandfather were obtained. When

darkness fell S. W. suddenly leaned back on the sofa, grew pale, almost

shut her eyes, and lay there motionless. The eyeballs were turned

upwards, the lid-reflex was present as well as tactile sensation. The

breathing was gentle, almost imperceptible. The pulse small and weak.

This attack lasted about half an hour, when S. W. suddenly sighed and

got up. The extreme pallor, which had lasted throughout the whole

attack, now gave place to her usual pale pink colour. She was somewhat

confused and distraught, indicated that she had seen all sorts of

things, but would tell nothing. Only after urgent questioning would

she relate that in an extraordinary waking condition she had seen her

grandfather arm-in-arm with the writer's grandfather. The two had gone

rapidly by in an open carriage, side by side.

III. In the third séance, which took place some days later, there was a

similar attack of more than half an hour's duration. S. W. afterwards

told of many white, transfigured forms who each gave her a flower

of special symbolic significance. Most of them were dead relatives.

Concerning the exact content of their talk she maintained an obstinate

silence.

IV. After S. W. had entered into the somnambulic state she began to make

curious movements with her lips, and made swallowing gurgling noises.

Then she whispered very softly and unintelligibly. When this had lasted

some minutes she suddenly began to speak in an altered deep voice. She

spoke of herself in the third person. "She is not here, she has gone

away." There followed several communications of a religious kind. From

the content and the way of speaking it was easy to conclude that she

was imitating her grandfather, who had been a clergyman. The content of

the talk did not rise above the mental level of the "communications."

The tone of the voice was somewhat forced, and only became natural when,

in the course of the talk, the voice approximated to the medium's own.

(In later sittings the voice was only altered for a few moments when a

new spirit manifested itself.)

Afterwards there was amnesia for the trance-conversation. She gave hints

about a sojourn in the other world, and she spoke of an undreamed-of

blessedness which she felt. It must be further noted that her

conversation in the attack occurred quite spontaneously, and was not in

response to any suggestions.

Directly after this séance S. W. became acquainted with the book of

Justinus Kerner, "Die Seherin von Prevorst." She began thereupon to

magnetise herself towards the end of the attack, partly by means of

regular passes, partly by curious circles and figures of eight, which

she described symmetrically with both arms. She did this, she said,

to disperse the severe headaches which occurred after the attacks. In

the August séances, not detailed here, there were in addition to the

grandfather numerous spirits of other relatives who did not produce

anything very remarkable. Each time when a new one came on the scene the

movement of the glass was changed in a striking way; it generally ran

along the rows of letters, touching one or other of them, but no sense

could be made of it. The orthography was very uncertain and arbitrary,

and the first sentences were frequently incomprehensible or broken

up into a meaningless medley of letters. Generally automatic writing

suddenly began at this point. Sometimes automatic writing was attempted

during complete darkness. The movements began with violent backward

jerks of the whole arm, so that the paper was pierced by the pencil. The

first attempt at writing consisted of numerous strokes and zigzag lines

about 8 cm. high. In later attempts there came first unreadable words,

in large handwriting, which gradually became smaller and clearer. It

was not essentially different from the medium's own. The grandfather was

again the controlling spirit.

V. Somnambulic attacks in September, 1899. S. W. sits upon the sofa,

leans back, shuts her eyes, breathes lightly and regularly. She

gradually becomes cataleptic, the catalepsy disappears after about

two minutes, when she lies in an apparently quiet sleep with complete

muscular relaxation. She suddenly begins to speak in a subdued voice:

"No! you take the red, I'll take the white, you can take the green,

and you the blue. Are you ready? We will go now." (A pause of several

minutes during which her face assumes a corpse-like pallor. Her hands

feel cold and are very bloodless.) She suddenly calls out with a

loud, solemn voice: "Albert, Albert, Albert," then whispering: "Now

you speak," followed by a longer pause, when the pallor of the face

attains the highest possible degree. Again, in a loud solemn voice,

"Albert, Albert, do you not believe your father? I tell you many errors

are contained in N.'s teaching. Think about it." Pause. The pallor

of the face decreases. "He's very frightened. He could not speak any

more." (These words in her usual conversational tone.) Pause. "He will

certainly think about it," S. W. now speaks again in the same tone,

in a strange idiom which sounds like French or Italian, now recalling

the former, now the latter. She speaks fluently, rapidly, and with

charm. It is possible to understand a few words but not to remember the

whole, because the language is so strange. From time to time certain

words recur, as _wena_, _wenes_, _wenai_, _wene_, etc. The absolute

naturalness of the proceedings is bewildering. From time to time she

pauses as if some one were answering her. Suddenly she speaks in German,

"Is time already up?" (In a troubled voice.) "Must I go already?

Goodbye, goodbye." With the last words there passes over her face an

indescribable expression of ecstatic blessedness. She raises her arms,

opens her eyes,--hitherto closed,--looks radiantly upwards. She remains

a moment thus, then her arms sink slackly, her eyes shut, the expression

of her face is tired and exhausted. After a short cataleptic stage she

awakes with a sigh. She looks around astonished: "I've slept again,

haven't I?" She is told she has been talking during the sleep, whereupon

she becomes much annoyed, and this increases when she learns she has

spoken in a foreign tongue. "But didn't I tell the spirits I don't want

it? It mustn't be. It exhausts me too much." Begins to cry. "Oh, God!

Oh, God! must then everything, everything, come back again like last

time? Is nothing spared me?" The next day at the same time there was

another attack. When S. W. has fallen asleep Ulrich von Gerbenstein

suddenly announces himself. He is an entertaining chatterer, speaks very

fluently in high German with a North-German accent. Asked what S. W. is

now doing, after much circumlocution he explains that she is far away,

and he is meanwhile here to look after her body, the circulation of the

blood, the respiration, etc. He must take care that meanwhile no black

person takes possession of her and harms her. Upon urgent questioning

he relates that S. W. has gone with the others to Japan, to appear to

a distant relative and to restrain him from a stupid marriage. He then

announces in a whisper the exact moment when the manifestation takes

place. Forbidden any conversation for a few minutes, he points to the

sudden pallor occurring in S. W., remarking that materialisation at such

a great distance is at the cost of correspondingly great force. He then

orders cold bandages to the head to alleviate the severe headache which

would occur afterwards. As the colour of the face gradually becomes more

natural the conversation grows livelier. All kinds of childish jokes and

trivialities are uttered; suddenly U. von G. says, "I see them coming,

but they are still very far off; I see them there like a star." S. W.

points to the North. We are naturally astonished, and ask why they do

not come from the East, whereto U. von G. laughingly retorts: "Oh, but

they come the direct way over the North Pole. I am going now; farewell."

Immediately after S. W. sighs, wakes up, is ill-tempered, complains of

extremely bad headache. She saw U. von G. standing by her body; what

had he told us? She gets angry about the "silly chatter" from which he

cannot refrain.

VI. Begins in the usual way. Extreme pallor; lies stretched out,

scarcely breathing. Speaks suddenly, with loud, solemn voice: "Yes,

be frightened; I am; I warn you against N.'s teaching. See, in hope

is everything that belongs to faith. You would like to know who I

am. God gives where one least expects it. Do you not know me?" Then

unintelligible whispering; after a few minutes she awakes.

VII. S. W. soon falls asleep; lies stretched out on the sofa. Is very

pale. Says nothing, sighs deeply from time to time. Casts up her eyes,

rises, sits on the sofa, bends forward, speaks softly: "You have sinned

grievously, have fallen far." Bends forward still, as if speaking to

some one who kneels before her. She stands up, turns to the right,

stretches out her hands, and points to the spot over which she has been

bending. "Will you forgive her?" she asks, loudly. "Do not forgive men,

but their spirits. Not she, but her human body has sinned." Then she

kneels down, remains quite still for about ten minutes in the attitude

of prayer. Then she gets up suddenly, looks to heaven with ecstatic

expression, and then throws herself again on her knees, with her face

bowed on her hands, whispering incomprehensible words. She remains rigid

in this position several minutes. Then she gets up, looks again upwards

with a radiant countenance, and lies down on the sofa; soon after she

wakes.

DEVELOPMENT OF THE SOMNAMBULIC PERSONALITIES.

At the beginning of many séances the glass was allowed to move by

itself, when occasionally the advice followed in stereotyped fashion:

"You must ask."

Since convinced spiritualists took part in the séances, all kinds

of spiritualistic wonders were of course demanded, and especially

the "protecting spirits." In reply, sometimes names of well-known

dead people were produced, sometimes unknown names, _e.g._ Berthe

de Valours, Elizabeth von Thierfelsenburg, Ulrich von Gerbenstein,

etc. The controlling spirit was almost without exception the medium's

grandfather, who once explained: "he loved her more than any one in

this world because he had protected her from childhood up, and knew

all her thoughts." This personality produced a flood of Biblical

maxims, edifying observations, and song-book verses; the following is a

specimen:--

In true believing,

To faith in God cling ever nigh,

Thy heavenly comfort never leaving,

Which having, man can never die.

Refuge in God is peace for ever,

When earthly cares oppress the mind;

Who from the heart can pray is never

Bowed down by fate, howe'er unkind.

Numerous similar elaborations betrayed by their banal, unctuous

contents their origin in some tract or other. When S. W. had to speak

in ecstasy, lively dialogues developed between the circle-members and

the somnambulic personality. The content of the answers received is

essentially just the same commonplace edifying stuff as that of the

psychographic communications. The character of this personality is

distinguished by its dry and tedious solemnity, rigorous conventionality

and pietistic virtue (which is not consistent with the historic

reality). The grandfather is the medium's guide and protector. During

the ecstatic state he gives all kinds of advice, prophesies later

attacks and the visions she will see on waking, etc. He orders cold

bandages, gives directions concerning the medium's lying down or the

date of the séances. His relationship to the medium is an extremely

tender one. In liveliest contrast to this heavy dream-person stands

a personality, appearing first sporadically, in the psychographic

communications of the first séance. It soon disclosed itself as the

dead brother of a Mr. R., who was then taking part in the séance. This

dead brother, Mr. P. R., was full of commonplaces about brotherly love

towards his living brother. He evaded particular questions in all

manner of ways. But he developed a quite astonishing eloquence towards

the ladies of the circle and in particular offered his allegiance to

one whom Mr. P. R. had never known when alive. He affirmed that he

had already cared very much for her in his lifetime, had often met

her in the street without knowing who she was, and was now uncommonly

delighted to become acquainted with her in this unusual manner. With

such insipid compliments, scornful remarks to the men, harmless childish

jokes, etc., he took up a large part of the séance. Several of the

members found fault with the frivolity and banality of this "spirit,"

whereupon he disappeared for one or two séances, but soon reappeared,

at first well-behaved, often indeed uttering Christian maxims, but

soon dropping back into the old tone. Besides these two sharply

differentiated personalities, others appeared who varied but little from

the grandfather's type; they were mostly dead relatives of the medium.

The general atmosphere of the first two months' séances was accordingly

solemnly edifying, disturbed only from time to time by Mr. P. R.'s

trivial chatter. Some weeks after the beginning of the séances, Mr. R.

left our circle, whereupon a remarkable change took place in Mr. P.

R.'s conversation. He became monosyllabic, came less often, and after a

few séances vanished altogether, later on he reappeared but with great

infrequency, and for the most part only when the medium was alone with

the particular lady mentioned. Then a new personality forced himself

into the foreground; in contrast to Mr. P. R., who always spoke the

Swiss dialect, this gentleman adopted an affected North-German way of

speaking. In all else he was an exact copy of Mr. P. R. His eloquence

was somewhat remarkable, since S. W. had only a very scanty knowledge of

high German, whilst this new personality, who called himself Ulrich von

Gerbenstein, spoke an almost faultless German, rich in charming phrases

and compliments.[20]

Ulrich von Gerbenstein was a witty chatterer, full of repartee, an

idler, a great admirer of the ladies, frivolous, and most superficial.

During the winter of 1899-1900 he gradually came to dominate

the situation more and more, and took over one by one all the

above-mentioned functions of the grandfather, so that under his

influence the serious character of the séances disappeared.

All suggestions to the contrary proved unavailing, and at last the

séances had on this account to be suspended for longer and longer

intervals. There is a peculiarity common to all these somnambulic

personalities which must be noted. They have access to the medium's

memory, even to the unconscious portion, they are also _au courant_ with

the visions which she has in the ecstatic state, but they have only

_the most superficial knowledge of her phantasies during the ecstasy_.

Of the somnambulic dreams they know only what they occasionally pick

up from the members of the circle. On doubtful points they can give no

information, or only such as contradicts the medium's explanations. The

stereotyped answer to these questions runs: "Ask Ivenes."[21] "Ivenes

knows." From the examples given of different ecstatic moments it is

clear that the medium's consciousness is by no means idle during the

trance, but develops a striking and multiplex phantastic activity.

For the reconstruction of S. W.'s somnambulic self we have to depend

altogether upon her several statements; for in the first place her

spontaneous utterances connecting her with the waking self are few,

and often irrelevant, and in the second very many of these ecstatic

states go by without gesture, and without speech, so that no conclusions

as to the inner happenings can afterwards be drawn from the external

appearances. _S. W. is almost totally amnesic for the automatic

phenomena during ecstasy as far as they come within the territory of

the new personalities of her ego. Of all the other phenomena, such as

loud talking, babbling, etc., which are directly connected with her own

ego she usually has a clear remembrance._ But in every case there is

complete amnesia only during the first few minutes after the ecstasy.

Within the first half-hour, during which there usually prevails a kind

of semi-somnambulism with a dreamlike manner, hallucinations, etc., the

amnesia gradually disappears, whilst fragmentary memories emerge of what

has occurred, but in a quite irregular and arbitrary fashion.

The later séances were usually begun by our hands being joined and laid

on the table, whereon the table at once began to move. Meanwhile S. W.

gradually became somnambulic, took her hands from the table, lay back

on the sofa, and fell into the ecstatic sleep. She sometimes related

her experiences to us afterwards, but showed herself very reticent if

strangers were present. After the very first ecstasy she indicated

that she played a distinguished _rôle_ among the spirits. She had

a special name, as had each of the spirits; hers was _Ivenes_; her

grandfather looked after her with particular care. In the ecstasy with

the flower-vision we learnt her special secret, hidden till then beneath

the deepest silence. During the séances in which her spirit spoke she

made long journeys, mostly to relatives, to whom she said she appeared,

or she found herself on the Other Side, in "That space between the

stars which people think is empty, but in which there are really very

many spirit-worlds." In the semi-somnambulic state which frequently

followed her attacks, she once described, in peculiar poetic fashion,

a landscape on the Other Side, "a wondrous, moon-lit valley, set aside

for the races not yet born." She represented her somnambulic ego as

being almost completely released from the body. It is a fully-grown but

small, black-haired woman, of pronounced Jewish type, clothed in white

garments, her head covered with a turban. She understands and speaks the

language of the spirits, "for spirits still, from old human custom, do

speak to one another, although they do not really need to, since they

mutually understand one another's thoughts." She "does not really always

talk with the spirits, but just looks at them, and so understands their

thoughts." She travels in the company of four or five spirits, dead

relatives, and visits her living relatives and acquaintances in order

to investigate their life and their way of thinking; she further visits

all places which lie within the radius of these spectral inhabitants.

From her acquaintanceship with Kerner's book, she discovered and

improved upon the ideas of the black spirits who are kept enchanted in

certain places, or exist partly beneath the earth's surface (compare

the "Seherin von Prevorst"). This activity caused her much trouble and

pain; in and after the ecstasy she complained of suffocating feelings,

violent headache, etc. But every fortnight, on Wednesdays, she could

pass the whole night in the garden on the Other Side in the company of

holy spirits. There she was taught everything concerning the forces

of the world, the endless complicated relationships and affinities of

human beings, and all besides about the laws of reincarnation, the

inhabitants of the stars, etc. Unfortunately only the system of the

world-forces and reincarnation achieved any expression. As to the other

matters she only let fall disconnected observations. For example, once

she returned from a railway journey in an extremely disturbed state. It

was thought at first something unpleasant had happened, till she managed

to compose herself, and said, "A star-inhabitant had sat opposite to

her in the train." From the description which she gave of this being,

I recognised a well-known elderly merchant I happened to know, who has

a rather unsympathetic face. In connection with this experience she

related all kinds of peculiarities of these star-dwellers; they have no

god-like souls, as men have, they pursue no science, no philosophy, but

in technical arts they are far more advanced than men. Thus on Mars a

flying-machine has long been in existence; the whole of Mars is covered

with canals, these canals are cleverly excavated lakes and serve for

irrigation. The canals are quite superficial; the water in them is very

shallow. The excavating caused the inhabitants of Mars no particular

trouble, for the soil there is lighter than the earth's. The canals are

nowhere bridged, but that does not prevent communication, for everything

travels by flying-machine. Wars no longer occur on the stars, for no

differences of opinion exist. The star-dwellers have not human bodies,

but the most laughable ones possible, such as one would never imagine.

Human spirits who are allowed to travel on the Other Side may not set

foot on the stars. Equally, wandering star-dwellers may not come to the

earth, but must remain at a distance of twenty-five metres above the

earth's surface. Should they transgress they remain in the power of the

earth, and must assume human bodies, and are only set free again after

their natural death. As men, they are cold, hard-hearted, cruel. S. W.

recognises them by a singular expression in which the "Spiritual" is

lacking, and by their hairless, eyebrowless, sharply-cut faces. Napoleon

was a star-dweller.

In her journeys she does not see the places through which she hastens.

She has a feeling of floating, and the spirits tell her when she is

at the right spot. Then, as a rule, she only sees the face and upper

part of the person to whom she is supposed to appear, or whom she

wishes to see. She can seldom say in what kind of surroundings she sees

this person. Occasionally she saw me, but only my head without any

surroundings. She occupied herself much with the enchanting of spirits,

and for this purpose she wrote oracular sayings in a foreign tongue,

on slips of paper which she concealed in all sorts of queer places. An

Italian murderer, presumably living in my house, and whom she called

Conventi, was specially displeasing to her. She tried several times

to cast a spell upon him, and without my knowledge hid several papers

about, on which messages were written; these were later found by chance.

One such, written in red ink, was as follows:

------------------- ------------------

| Conventi | | Conventi, go |

| Marche. 4 govi | | orden, Astaf |

| Ivenes. | | vent. |

------------------- ------------------

-------------------------------

| Gen palus, vent allis |

| ton prost afta ben genallis.|

-------------------------------

Unfortunately, I never obtained any interpretation of this. S. W.

was quite inaccessible in this matter. Occasionally the somnambulic

Ivenes speaks directly to the public. She does so in dignified fashion,

rather precociously, but she is not wearisomely unctuous and impossibly

twaddling as are her two guides; she is a serious, mature person, devout

and pious, full of womanly tenderness and great modesty, always yielding

to the judgments of others. This expression of plaintive emotion and

melancholy resignation is peculiar to her. She looks beyond this

world, and unwillingly returns to reality; she bemoans her hard lot,

and her unsympathetic family surroundings. Associated with this there

is something elevated about her; she commands her spirits, despises

the twaddling chatter of Gerbenstein, consoles others, directs those

in distress, warns and protects them from dangers to body and soul.

She is the intermediary for the entire intellectual output of all

manifestations, but she herself ascribes it to the direction of the

spirits. It is Ivenes who entirely controls S. W.'s semi-somnambulic

state.

In semi-somnambulism S. W. gave some of those taking part in the

séances the opportunity to compare her with the "Seherin von Prevorst"

(Prophetess of Prevorst). This suggestion was not without results.

S. W. gave hints of earlier existences which she had already lived

through, and after a few weeks she suddenly disclosed a whole system of

reincarnations, although she had never before mentioned anything of the

kind. Ivenes is a spiritual being who is something more than the spirits

of other human beings. Every human spirit must incorporate himself

twice in the course of the centuries. But Ivenes must incorporate

herself at least once every two hundred years; besides herself only two

other persons have participated in this fate, namely, Swedenborg and

Miss Florence Cook (Crookes's famous medium). S. W. calls these two

personages her brother and sister. She gave no information about their

pre-existences. In the beginning of the nineteenth century Ivenes was

Frau Hauffe, the Prophetess of Prevorst; at the end of the eighteenth

century, a clergyman's wife in central Germany (locality unknown).

As the latter she was seduced by Goethe and bore him a child. In the

fifteenth century she was a Saxon countess, and had the poetic name of

Thierfelsenburg. Ulrich von Gerbenstein is a relative from that line.

The interval of 300 years, and her adventure with Goethe, must be atoned

for by the sorrows of the Prophetess of Prevorst. In the thirteenth

century she was a noblewoman of Southern France, called de Valours,

and was burnt as a witch. From the thirteenth century to the Christian

persecution under Nero there were numerous reincarnations of which S.

W. could give no detailed account. In the Christian persecution under

Nero she played a martyr's part. Then comes a period of obscurity till

the time of David, when Ivenes was an ordinary Jewess. After her death

she received from Astaf, an angel from a high heaven, the mandate for

her future wonderful career. In all her pre-existences she was a medium

and an intermediary in the intercourse between this side and the other.

Her brothers and sisters are equally old and have the like vocation. In

her various pre-existences she was sometimes married, and in this way

gradually founded a whole system of relationships with whose endless

complicated inter-relations she occupied herself in many ecstasies.

Thus, for example, about the eighth century she was the mother of her

earthly father and, moreover, of her grandfather, and mine. Hence the

striking friendship of these two old gentlemen, otherwise strangers. As

Mme. de Valours she was the present writer's mother. When she was burnt

as a witch the writer took it much to heart, and went into a cloister

at Rouen, wore a grey habit, became Prior, wrote a work on Botany and

died at over eighty years of age. In the refectory of the cloister

there hung a picture of Mme. de Valours, in which she was depicted in

a half-reclining position. (S. W. in the semi-somnambulic state often

took this position on the sofa. It corresponds exactly to that of Mme.

Recamier in David's well-known picture.) A gentleman who often took part

in the séances, who had some slight resemblance to the writer, was also

one of her sons from that period. Around this core of relationship

there grouped themselves, more or less intimately connected, all the

persons in any way related or known to her. One came from the fifteenth

century, another--a cousin--from the eighteenth century, and so on.

From the three great family stocks grew by far the greater part of the

present European peoples. She and her brothers and sisters are descended

from Adam, who arose by materialisation; the other then-existing

families, from whom Cain took his wife, were descended from apes. S. W.

produced from this circle of relationship an extensive family-gossip,

a very flood of romantic stories, piquant adventures, etc. Sometimes

the target of her romances was a lady acquaintance of the writer's who

for some undiscoverable reason was peculiarly antipathetic to her. She

declared that this lady was an incarnation of a celebrated Parisian

poisoner, who had achieved great notoriety in the eighteenth century.

She maintained that this lady still continued her dangerous work, but

in a much more ingenious way than formerly; through the inspiration of

the wicked spirits who accompany her she had discovered a liquid which

when merely exposed to the air attracted tubercle bacilli and formed

a splendid developing medium for them. By means of this liquid, which

she was wont to mix with the food, the lady had brought about the death

of her husband (who had indeed died of tuberculosis); also one of her

lovers, and of her own brother, for the sake of his inheritance. Her

eldest son was an illegitimate child by her lover. As a widow she had

secretly borne to another lover an illegitimate child, and finally she

had had an unnatural relationship with her own brother (who was later

on poisoned). In this way S. W. spun innumerable stories, in which she

believed quite implicitly. The persons of these stories appeared in

the drama of her visions, as did the lady before referred to, going

through the pantomime of making confession and receiving absolution

of sins. Everything interesting occurring in her surroundings was

incorporated in this system of romances, and given an order in the

network of relationships with a more or less exact statement as to

their pre-existences and the spirits influencing them. It fared thus

with all who made S. W.'s acquaintance: they were valued at a second or

first incarnation, according as they possessed a marked or indefinite

character. They were generally described as relatives, and always

exactly in the same definite way. Only subsequently, often several

weeks later, after an ecstasy, there would make its appearance a new

complicated romance which explained the striking relationship through

pre-existences or through illegitimate relations. Persons sympathetic to

S. W. were usually very near relatives. Most of these family romances

were very carefully made up, so that to contradict them was impossible.

They were always worked out with a quite bewildering certainty, and

surprised one by an extremely clever evaluation of certain details which

she had noticed or taken from somewhere. For the most part the romances

had a ghastly character, murder by poison and dagger, seduction and

divorce, forgery of wills, played the chief rôle.

* * * * *

_Mystic Science._--In reference to scientific questions S. W. put

forward numerous suggestions. Generally towards the end of the séances

there was talk and debate about various subjects of scientific and

spiritistic nature. S. W. never took part in the discussion, but

generally sat dreamily in a corner in a semi-somnambulic state. She

listened to one and another, taking hold of the talk in a half-dream,

but she could never relate anything connectedly; if asked about it

only partial explanations were given. In the course of the winter

hints emerged in various séances: "The spirits taught her about the

world-forces and the strange revelations from the other side, yet she

would not tell anything now." Once she tried to give a description,

but only said: "On one side was the light, on the other the power of

attraction." Finally, in March 1900, when for some time nothing had been

heard of the teachings at the séances, she announced suddenly with a

joyful face that she had now received everything from the spirits. She

drew out a long narrow strip of paper upon which were numerous names.

Although I asked for it she would not let it leave her hands, but

dictated the following scheme to me.

[Illustration: FIG. 1.]

I can remember clearly that in the course of the winter of 1895 we

spoke several times in S. W.'s presence of the forces of attraction and

repulsion in connection with Kant's "Natural History of the Heavens"; we

spoke also of the "Law of the Conservation of Energy," of the different

forces of energy, and of the question whether the force of gravity was

perhaps a form of movement. From this talk S. W. had plainly created the

foundation of her mystic system. She gave the following explanation:

The natural forces are arranged in seven circles. Outside these circles

are three more, in which unknown forces intermediate between energy

and matter are found. Matter is found in seven circles which surround

ten inner ones. In the centre stands the primary force, which is the

original cause of creation and is a spiritual force. The first circle

which surrounds the primary force is matter which is not really a

force and does not arise from the primary force, but it unites with

the primary force and from this union the first descendants are the

spiritual forces; on the one hand the Good or Light Powers, on the other

the Dark Powers. The Power Magnesor consists most of primary force; the

Power Connesor, in which the dark might of matter is greatest, contains

the least. The further outwards the primary force streams forth, the

weaker it becomes, but weaker too becomes the power of matter, since

its power is greatest where the collision with the primary power is

most violent, _i.e._ in the Power Connesor. Within the circles there

are fresh analogous forces of equal strength but making in the opposite

direction. The system can also be described in a single series beginning

with primary force, Magnesor, Cafor, etc., proceeding from left to right

on the scheme and ascending with Tusa, Endos, ending with Connesor; only

then the survey of the grade of intensity is made more difficult. Every

force in the outer circle is combined from the nearest adjacent forces

of the inner circle.

1. _The Magnesor Group._--The so-called powers of Light descend in

direct line from Magnesor, but slightly influenced by the dark side. The

powers Magnesor and Cafor form together the so-called Life Force, which

is no single power but is differently combined in animals and plants.

Between Magnesor and Cafor there exists the Life Force of Man. Morally

good men and those mediums who bring about interviews of good spirits

on the earth have most Magnesor. Somewhere about the middle there stand

the life forces of animals, and in Cafor that of plants. Nothing is

known about Hefa, or rather S. W. can give no information. Persus is the

fundamental power which comes to light in the phenomenon of the forces

of locomotion. Its recognisable forces are Warmth, Light, Electricity,

Magnetism, and two unknown forces, one of which only exists in comets.

Of the powers of the seventh circle S. W. could only point out north

and south magnetism and positive and negative electricity. _Deka_ is

unknown. _Smar_ is of peculiar significance, to be indicated below; it

leads to--

2. _Hypnos Group._--_Hypnos_ and _Hyfonismus_ are powers which only

dwell within certain beings, in those who are in a position to exert

a magnetic influence upon others. _Athialowi_ is the sexual instinct.

Chemical affinity is directly derived from it. In the ninth circle under

it arises indolence (that is the line of Smar). _Svens_ and _Kara_ are

of unknown significance. _Pusa_ corresponds to _Smar_ in the opposite

sense.

3. _The Connesor Group._--Connesor is the opposite pole of Magnesor. It

is the dark and wicked power equal in intensity to the good power of

light. While the good power creates, this one turns into the opposite.

Endos is an elemental power of minerals. From these (significance

unknown) gravitation proceeds, which on its side is designated as the

elemental force of the forces of resistance that occur in phenomena

(gravity, capillarity, adhesion and cohesion). Nakus is the secret

power of a rare stone which controls the effect of snake poison. The

two powers _Smar_ and _Pusa_ have a special importance. According to S.

W., _Smar_ develops in the bodies of morally good men at the moment of

death. This power enables the soul to rise to the powers of light. Pusa

behaves in the opposite way, for it is the power which conducts morally

bad people to the dark side in the state of Connesor.

In the sixth circle the visible world begins, which only appears to be

so sharply divided from the other side in consequence of the fickleness

of our organs of sense. In reality the transition is a very gradual one,

and there are people who live on a higher stage of knowledge because

their perceptions and sensations are more delicate than those of others.

Great seers are enabled to see manifestations of force where ordinary

people can perceive nothing. S. W. sees Magnesor as a white or bluish

vapour, which chiefly develops when good spirits are near. Connesor is a

dark vapour-like fluid, which, like Magnesor, develops on the appearance

of "black" spirits. For instance, the night before the beginning of

great visions the shiny vapour of Magnesor spreads in thick layers, out

of which, the good spirits grow to visible white forces. It is just

the same with Connesor. But these powers have their different mediums.

S. W. is a Magnesor medium, as were the Prophetess of Prevorst and

Swedenborg. The materialisation mediums of the spiritualists are mostly

Connesor mediums, because materialisation takes place much more easily

through Connesor on account of its close connection with the properties

of matter. In the summer of 1900 S. W. tried several times to produce

the circles of matter, but she never arrived at other than vague and

incomprehensible hints and afterwards spoke no more about this.

_Conclusion._--The really interesting and valuable séances came to an

end with the production of the system of powers. Before this a gradual

decline in the vividness of the ecstasies was noticeable. Ulrich von

Gerbenstein came increasingly to the front, and filled up the séances

with his childish chatter. The visions which S. W. had in the meantime

likewise seem to have lost vividness and plasticity of formation, for S.

W. was afterwards only able to feel pleasant sensations in the presence

of good spirits, and disagreeableness in that of bad spirits. Nothing

new was produced. There was something of uncertainty in the trance

talks, as if feeling and seeking for the impression which she was making

upon the audience, together with an increasing staleness in the content.

In the outward behaviour of S. W. there arose also a marked shyness

and uncertainty, so that the impression of wilful deception became

ever stronger. The writer therefore soon withdrew from the séances. S.

W. experimented afterwards in other circles, and six months after my

leaving was caught cheating _in flagranti delicto_. She wanted to arouse

again by spiritualistic experiments the lost belief in her supernatural

powers; she concealed small objects in her dress, throwing them up in

the air during the dark séance. With this her part was played out. Since

then, eighteen months have passed during which I have not seen S. W. I

have learnt from an observer who knew her in the earlier days, that

she has now and again strange states of short duration during which she

is very pale and silent, and has a fixed glittering look. I did not

hear any more of visions. She is said not to take part any longer in

spiritualistic séances. S. W. is now in a large business, and according

to all accounts is an industrious and responsible person who does her

work eagerly and cleverly, giving entire satisfaction. According to the

account of trustworthy persons, her character has much improved; she has

become quieter, more regular and sympathetic. No other abnormalities

have appeared in her. This case, in spite of its incompleteness,

contains a mass of psychological problems whose exposition goes far

beyond the limits of this little work. We must therefore be satisfied

with a mere sketch of the various striking manifestations. For the sake

of a more lucid exposition it seems better to review the various states

separately.

1. The _Waking State_.--Here the patient shows various peculiarities.

As we have seen, at school she was often distracted, lost herself in

a peculiar way, was moody; her behaviour changes inconsequently, now

quiet, shy, reserved, now lively, noisy and talkative. She cannot be

called unintelligent, but she strikes one sometimes as narrow-minded,

sometimes as having isolated intelligent moments. Her memory is good

on the whole, but owing to her distraction it is much impaired.

Thus, despite much discussion and reading of Kerner's "Seherin von

Prevorst," for many weeks, she does not know, if directly asked,

whether the author's name is _Koerner_ or _Kerner_, nor the name of

the Prophetess. All the same, when it occasionally comes up, the

name _Kerner_ is correctly written in the automatic communications.

In general it may be said that her character has something extremely

impulsive, incomprehensible, protean. Deducting the want of balance

due to puberty, there remains a pathological residue which expresses

itself in reactions which follow no rule and a bizarre unaccountable

character. This character may be called _déséquilibré_, or unstable. Its

specific mould is derived from traits which can certainly be regarded

as hysterical. This is decidedly so in the conditions of distraction.

As Janet[22] maintains, the foundation of hysterical anæsthesia is

the loss of attention. He was able to prove in youthful hysterics "a

striking indifference and distracted attention in the whole region of

the emotional life." Misreading is a notable instance, which beautifully

illustrates hysterical dispersion of attention. The psychology of

this process may perhaps be viewed as follows: during reading aloud

attention becomes paralysed for this act and is directed towards some

other object. Meanwhile the reading is continued mechanically, the

sense impressions are received as before, but in consequence of the

dispersion the excitability of the perceptive centre is lowered, so

that the strength of the sense impression is no longer adequate to fix

the attention in such a way that perception as such is conducted along

the motor speech route; thus all the inflowing associations which at

once unite with any new sense impression are repressed. The further

psychological mechanism permits of only two possible explanations:

(1) The admission of the sense impression is received unconsciously

(because of the increase of threshold stimulus), in the perceptive

centre just below the threshold of consciousness, and consequently is

not incorporated in the attention and conducted back to the speech

route. It only reaches verbal expression through the intervention of the

nearest associations, in our case through the dialect expression[23] for

the object. (2) The sense impression is perceived consciously, but at

the moment of its entrance into the speech route it reaches a territory

whose excitability is diminished by the dispersion of attention. At

this place the dialect word is substituted by association for the motor

speech image, and it is uttered as such. In either case it is certain

that it is the acoustic dispersed attention which fails to correct

the error. Which of the two explanations is correct cannot be proved

in this case; probably both approach the truth, for the dispersion of

attention seems to be general, and in each case concerns more than one

of the centres engaged in the act of reading aloud. In our case this

phenomenon has a special value, for we have here a quite elementary

automatic phenomenon. It may be called hysterical in so far as in this

concrete case a state of exhaustion and intoxication, with its parallel

manifestations, can be excluded. A healthy person only exceptionally

allows himself to be so engaged by an object that he fails to correct

the errors of a dispersed attention--those of the kind described. The

frequency of these occurrences in the patient point to a considerable

limitation of the field of consciousness, in so far as she can only

master a relative minimum of elementary sensations flowing in at the

same time. If we wish to describe more exactly the psychological state

of the "psychic shady side," we might call it either a sleeping or a

dream-state, according as passivity or activity predominated. There

is, at all events, a pathological dream-state of very rudimentary

extension and intensity and its genesis is spontaneous; dream-states

arising spontaneously, with the production of automatisms, are generally

regarded as hysterical on the whole. It must be pointed out that these

instances of misreading occurred frequently in our subject, and that the

term hysterical is employed in this sense; so far as we know, it is only

on a foundation of hysterical constitution that spontaneous states of

partial sleep or dreams occur frequently.

Binet[24] has studied experimentally the automatic substitution of some

adjacent association in his hysterics. If he pricked the anæsthetic

hand of the patient without his noticing the prick, he thought of

"points"; if the anæsthetic finger was moved, he thought of "sticks"

or "columns." When the anæsthetic hand, concealed from the patient's

sight by a screen, writes "Salpêtrière," she sees in front of her the

word "Salpêtrière" in white writing on a black ground. This recalls the

experiments above referred to of Guinon and Sophie Waltke.

We thus find in our subject, at a time when there was nothing to

indicate the later phenomena, rudimentary automatisms, fragments of

dream manifestations, which imply in themselves the possibility that

some day more than one association would creep in between the perception

of the dispersed attention and consciousness. The misreading shows us,

moreover, a certain automatic independence of the psychical elements.

This occasionally expands to a more or less fleeting dispersion of

attention, although with very slight results which are never in any

way striking or suspicious; this dispersedness approximates to that

of the physiological dream. The misreading can be thus conceived as a

prodromal symptom of the later events; especially as its psychology is

prototypical for the mechanism of somnambulic dreams, which are indeed

nothing but a many-sided multiplication and manifold variation of the

elementary processes reviewed above. I never succeeded in demonstrating

during my observations similar rudimentary automatisms. It would seem

that in course of time the states of dispersed attention, to a certain

extent beneath the surface of consciousness, at first of low degree have

grown into these remarkable somnambulic attacks; hence they disappeared

during the waking state, which was free from attacks. So far as concerns

the development of the patient's character, beyond a certain not very

extensive ripening, no remarkable change could be demonstrated during

the observations lasting nearly two years. More remarkable is the fact

that in the two years since the cessation (complete?) of the somnambulic

attacks, a considerable change in character has taken place. We shall

have occasion later on to speak of the importance of this observation.

_Semi-Somnambulism._--In S. W.'s case the following condition was

indicated by the term semi-somnambulism. For some time after and before

the actual somnambulic attack the patient finds herself in a state

whose most salient feature can best be described as "preoccupation."

She only lends half an ear to the conversation around her, answers at

random, often gets absorbed in all manner of hallucinations; her face

is solemn, her look ecstatic, visionary, ardent. Closer observation

discloses a far-reaching alteration of the entire character. She is

now serious, dignified; when she speaks her subject is always an

extremely serious one. In this condition she can talk so seriously,

forcibly and convincingly, that one is tempted to ask oneself if this is

really a girl of fifteen and a half. One has the impression of a mature

woman possessed of considerable dramatic talent. The reason for this

seriousness, this solemnity of behaviour, is given in her explanation

that at these times she stands at the frontier of this world and the

other, and associates just as truly with the spirits of the dead as

with living people. And, indeed, her conversation is usually divided

between answers to real objective questions and hallucinatory ones. I

call this state semi-somnambulism because it coincides with Richet's

own definition. He[25] says: "La conscience de cet individu persiste

dans son intégrité apparente, toutefois des opérations très compliquées

vont s'accomplir en dehors de la conscience sans que le moi volontaire

et conscient paraisse ressentir une modification quelconque. Une autre

personne sera en lui qui agira, pensera, voudra, sans que la conscience,

c'est à dire le moi réfléchi conscient, aît la moindre notion."

Binet[26] says of this term: "Le terme indique la parenté de cet état

avec le somnambulisme véritable, et en suite il laisse comprendre que

la vie somnambulique qui se manifeste durant la veille est réduite,

déprimée, par la conscience normale qui la recouvre."

AUTOMATISMS.

Semi-somnambulism is characterised by the continuity of consciousness

with that of the waking state and by the appearance of various

automatisms which give evidence of an activity of the subconscious self,

independent of that of consciousness.

Our case shows the following automatic phenomena:

(1) Automatic movements of the table.

(2) Automatic writing.

(3) Hallucinations.

1. _Automatic Movements of the Table._--Before the patient came

under my observation she had been influenced by the suggestion of

"table-turning," which she had first come across as a game. As soon as

she entered the circle there appeared communications from members of

her family which showed her to be a medium. I could only find out that,

as soon as ever her hand was placed on the table, the typical movements

began. The resulting communications have no interest for us. But the

automatic character of the act itself deserves some discussion, for

we may, without more ado, set aside the imputation that there was any

question of intentional and voluntary pushing or pulling on the part of

the patient.

As we know from the investigations of Chevreul,[27] Gley, Lehmann

and others, unconscious motor phenomena are not only of frequent

occurrence among hysterical persons, and those pathologically inclined

in other directions, but they are also relatively easily produced in

normal persons who show no other spontaneous automatisms. I have made

many experiments on these lines, and can confirm this observation.

In the great majority of instances all that is required is enough

patience to put up with an hour of quiet waiting. In most subjects,

motor automatisms will be obtained in a more or less high degree if

contra-suggestions do not intervene as obstacles. In a relatively small

percentage the phenomena arise spontaneously, _i.e._ directly under

the influence of verbal suggestion or of some earlier auto-suggestion.

In this instance the case is powerfully affected by suggestion. In

general, the particular predisposition is subject to all those laws

which also hold good for normal hypnosis. Nevertheless, certain

special circumstances are to be taken into account, conditioned by the

peculiarity of the case. It is not a question of a total hypnosis, but

of a partial one, limited entirely to the motor area of the arm, like

the cerebral anæsthesia produced by "magnetic passes" for a painful spot

in the body. We touch the spot in question employing verbal suggestion

or making use of some existing auto-suggestion, using the tactile

stimulus which we know acts suggestively, to bring about the desired

partial hypnosis. In accordance with this procedure, refractory subjects

can be brought easily enough to an exhibition of automatism. The

experimenter intentionally gives the table a slight push, or, better, a

series of rhythmic but very slight taps. After a short time he notices

that the oscillations become stronger, that they continue although

he has interrupted his own intentional movements. The experiment has

succeeded, the subject has unsuspectingly taken up the suggestion. By

this procedure much more is obtained than by verbal suggestion. In very

receptive persons and in all those cases where movement seems to arise

spontaneously, the purposeful tremulous movements,[28] not perceptible

by the subject, assume the _rôle_ of _agent provocateur_.

In this way persons who, by themselves, have never obtained automatic

movements of a coarse calibre, sometimes assume the unconscious guidance

of the table-movements, provided that the tremors are strong and that

the medium understands their meaning. In this case the medium takes

control of the slight oscillations and returns them considerably

strengthened, but rarely at exactly the same instant, generally a

few seconds later, in this way revealing the agent's conscious or

unconscious thought. By means of this simple mechanism there may arise

those cases of thought-reading so bewildering at first sight. A very

simple experiment, that succeeds in many cases even with unpractised

persons, will serve to illustrate this. The experimenter thinks, say,

of the number _four_, and then waits, his hands quietly resting on

the table, until he feels that the table makes the first inclination

to announce the number thought of. He lifts his hands off the table

immediately, and the number _four_ will be correctly tilted out. It

is advisable in this experiment to place the table upon a soft thick

carpet. By close attention the experimenter will occasionally notice a

movement of the table which is thus represented.

[Illustration: FIG. 2.]

(1) Purposeful tremors too slight to be perceived by the subject.

(2) Several very small but perceptible oscillations of the table which

indicate that the subject is responding to them.

(3) The big movements (tilts) of the table, giving the number four that

was thought of.

(_ab_) Denotes the moment when the operator's hands are removed.

This experiment succeeds excellently with well-disposed but

inexperienced subjects. After a little practice the phenomenon indicated

is wont to disappear, since by practice the number is read and

reproduced directly from the purposeful movements.[29]