CHAPTER II

THE ASSOCIATION METHOD

LECTURE I[125]

When you honoured me with an invitation to lecture at Clark University,

a wish was expressed that I should speak about my methods of work, and

especially about the psychology of childhood. I hope to accomplish this

task in the following manner:--

In my first lecture I will give to you the view points of my association

methods; in my second I will discuss the significance of the familiar

constellations; while in my third lecture I shall enter more fully into

the psychology of the child.

I might confine myself exclusively to my theoretical views, but I

believe it will be better to illustrate my lectures with as many

practical examples as possible. We will therefore occupy ourselves first

with the association test which has been of great value to me both

practically and theoretically. The history of the association method in

vogue in psychology, as well as the method itself, is, of course, so

familiar to you that there is no need to enlarge upon it. For practical

purposes I make use of the following formula:--

1. head

2. green

3. water

4. to sing

5. dead

6. long

7. ship

8. to pay

9. window

10. friendly

11. to cook

12. to ask

13. cold

14. stem

15. to dance

16. village

17. lake

18. sick

19. pride

20. to cook

21. ink

22. angry

23. needle

24. to swim

25. voyage

26. blue

27. lamp

28. to sin

29. bread

30. rich

31. tree

32. to prick

33. pity

34. yellow

35. mountain

36. to die

37. salt

38. new

39. custom

40. to pray

41. money

42. foolish

43. pamphlet

44. despise

45. finger

46. expensive

47. bird

48. to fall

49. book

50. unjust

51. frog

52. to part

53. hunger

54. white

55. child

56. to take care

57. lead pencil

58. sad

59. plum

60. to marry

61. house

62. dear

63. glass

64. to quarrel

65. fur

66. big

67. carrot

68. to paint

69. part

70. old

71. flower

72. to beat

73. box

74. wild

75. family

76. to wash

77. cow

78. friend

79. luck

80. lie

81. deportment

82. narrow

83. brother

84. to fear

85. stork

86. false

87. anxiety

88. to kiss

89. bride

90. pure

91. door

92. to choose

93. hay

94. contented

95. ridicule

96. to sleep

97. month

98. nice

99. woman

100. to abuse

This formula has been constructed after many years of experience. The

words are chosen and partially arranged in such a manner as to strike

easily almost all complexes which occur in practice. As shown above,

there is a regulated mixing of the grammatical qualities of the words.

For this there are definite reasons.[126]

Before the experiment begins the test person receives the following

instruction: "Answer as quickly as possible with the first word that

occurs to your mind." This instruction is so simple that it can easily

be followed. The work itself, moreover, appears extremely easy, so that

it might be expected any one could accomplish it with the greatest

facility and promptitude. But, contrary to expectation, the behaviour is

quite otherwise.

I.--AN EXAMPLE OF A NORMAL REACTION TYPE.

--------+----------------+--------------------------+----------------

| Reaction | |

Stimulus| Time. | |

word. |Unit 0·2 second.| Reaction. | Reproduction.

--------+----------------+--------------------------+----------------

head | 9 | foot |part of the body

green | 11 | blouse |

water | 14 | clear |light

to sing | 6 | children |

dead | 11 | do not like |

long | 6 | short |I, tall

ship | 7 | forth |

to pay | 9 | bills |

window | 9 | room |

friendly| 10 | children |

table | 9 | chair |room

to ask | 10 | all kinds |

cold | 7 | warm |

stem | 6 | flower |

to dance| 9 | I . . |like

lake | 8 | Zürich |

sick | 8 | sister |

pride | 6 | people |

to cook | 7 | woman |

ink | 5 | black |

angry | 10 | children |people

needle | 9 | to prick |

to swim | 10 | healthy |

voyage | 9 | England |

blue | 10 | pretty |like

lamp | 6 | light |

to sin | 8 | much |people

bread | 10 | good |like, necessary

rich | 9 | nice |

tree | 6 | green |

to prick| 9 | need |

--------+----------------+--------------------------+----------------

II.--AN EXAMPLE OF AN HYSTERICAL REACTION TYPE.

--------+----------------+--------------------------+----------------

| Reaction | |

Stimulus| Time. | |

word. |Unit 0·2 second.| Reaction. | Reproduction.

--------+----------------+--------------------------+----------------

needle | 7 | to sew |

to swim | 9 | water |ship [127]

[128] | | |

voyage | 35 | to ride, motion, voyager |

blue | 10 | colour |

lamp | 7 | to burn |

--------+----------------+--------------------------+----------------

to sin | 22 |this idea is totally |

| | strange to me, I do not |

| | recognize it |

bread | 10 |to eat |

rich[129]| 50 |money, I don't know |possession

brown | 6 |nature |green

to prick| 9 |needle |

pity | 12 |feeling |

yellow | 9 |colour |

mountain| 8 |high |

to die | 8 |to perish |

salt | 15 |salty (laughs) I don't |

| | know |NaCl

new | 15 |old |as an opposite

custom | 10 |good |barbaric

to pray | 12 |Deity |

money | 10 |wealth |

foolish | 12 |narrow minded, restricted | ?

pamphlet| 10 |paper |

despise | 30 |that is a complicated, too| ?

| | foolish |

finger | 8 |hand, not only hand, but |

| | also foot, a joint, |

| | member, extremity |

dear | 14 |to pay (laughs) |

bird | 8 |to fly |

to fall | 30 |_tomber_, I will say no | ?

| | more, what do you |

| | mean by fall? |

book | 6 |to read |

unjust | 8 |just |

frog | 11 |quack |

to part | 30 |what does that mean? | ?

hunger | 10 |to eat |

white | 12 |colour, everything |

| | possible, light |

child | 10 |little, I did not hear | ?

| | well, _bébé_ |

to take | | |

care | 14 |attention |

lead | |to draw, everything |

pencil| 8 | possible can be drawn |

sad | 9 |to weep, that is not |to be

| | always the case |

plum | 16 |to eat a plum, pluck what |fruit

| | do you mean by it? Is |

| | that symbolic? |

to marry| 27 |how can you? reunion, |union, alliance

| | union |

--------+----------------+--------------------------+----------------

The following diagrams illustrate the reaction times in an association

experiment in four normal test-persons. The height of each column

denotes the length of the reaction time.

[Illustration: FIG. 4.]

[Illustration: FIG. 5.]

[Illustration: FIG. 6.]

[Illustration: FIG. 7.]

The succeeding diagram shows the course of the reaction time in

hysterical individuals. The light cross-hatched columns denote the

places where the test-person was unable to react (so-called failures to

react).

[Illustration: FIG. 8.]

[Illustration: FIG. 9.]

[Illustration: FIG. 10.]

The first thing that strikes us is the fact that many test-persons

show a marked prolongation of the reaction time. This would seem to

be suggestive of intellectual difficulties,--wrongly however, for we

are often dealing with very intelligent persons of fluent speech. The

explanation lies rather in the emotions. In order to understand the

matter, comprehensively, we must bear in mind that the association

experiments cannot deal with a separated psychic function, for any

psychic occurrence is never a thing in itself, but is always the

resultant of the entire psychological past. The association experiment,

too, is not merely a method for the reproduction of separated word

couplets, but it is a kind of pastime, a conversation between

experimenter and test-person. In a certain sense it is still more

than that. Words really represent condensed actions, situations, and

things. When I give a stimulus word to the test-person, which denotes

an action, it is as if I represented to him the action itself, and

asked him, "How do you behave towards it? What do you think of it?

What would you do in this situation?" If I were a magician, I should

cause the situation corresponding to the stimulus word to appear in

reality, and placing the test-person in its midst, I should then study

his manner of reaction. The result of my stimulus words would thus

undoubtedly approach infinitely nearer perfection. But as we are not

magicians, we must be contented with the linguistic substitutes for

reality; at the same time we must not forget that the stimulus word

will almost without exception conjure up its corresponding situation.

All depends on how the test-person reacts to this situation. The word

"bride" or "bridegroom" will not evoke a simple reaction in a young

lady; but the reaction will be deeply influenced by the strong feeling

tones evoked, the more so if the experimenter be a man. It thus happens

that the test-person is often unable to react quickly and smoothly

to all stimulus words. There are certain stimulus words which denote

actions, situations, or things, about which the test-person cannot think

quickly and surely, and this fact is demonstrated in the association

experiments. The examples which I have just given show an abundance of

long reaction times and other disturbances. In this case the reaction

to the stimulus word is in some way impeded, that is, the adaptation to

the stimulus word is disturbed. The stimulus words therefore act upon us

just as reality acts; indeed, a person who shows such great disturbances

to the stimulus words, is in a certain sense but imperfectly adapted to

reality. Disease itself is an imperfect adaptation; hence in this case

we are dealing with something morbid in the psyche,--with something

which is either temporarily or persistently pathological in character,

that is, we are dealing with a psychoneurosis, with a functional

disturbance of the mind. This rule, however, as we shall see later, is

not without its exceptions.

Let us, in the first place, continue the discussion concerning the

prolonged reaction time. It often happens that the test-person actually

does _not_ know what to answer to the stimulus word. He waives any

reaction, and for the moment he totally fails to obey the original

instructions, and shows himself incapable of adapting himself to the

experimenter. If this phenomenon occurs frequently in an experiment,

it signifies a high degree of disturbance in adjustment. I would

call attention to the fact that it is quite indifferent what reason

the test-person gives for the refusal. Some find that too many ideas

suddenly occur to them; others, that they suffer from a deficiency of

ideas. In most cases, however, the difficulties first perceived are so

deterrent that they actually give up the whole reaction. The following

example shows a case of hysteria with many failures of reaction:--

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Stimulus | Reaction Time. | |

word. |Unit 0·2 second.| Reaction. | Reproduction.

---------------+----------------+----------------------+--------------

to sing | 9 | nice | +[130]

dead | 15 | awful | ?

long[131] | 40 | the time, the journey| ?

ship[132] | | | +

to pay | 11 | money |

window | 10 | big | high

friendly | 50 | a man | human

to cook | 10 | soup | +

ink | 9 | black or blue | +

angry | | | bad

needle | 9 | to sew | +

lamp | 14 | light | +

to sin | | |

bread | 15 | to eat | +

rich[133][134] | 40 | good, convenient | +

yellow | 18 | paper | colour

mountain | 10 | high | +

to die | 15 | awful | +

salt[135] | 25 | salty | +

new | | | good, nice

custom[136] | | |

to pray | | |

money[137] | 35 | to buy, one is able | +

pamphlet | 16 | to write | +

to despise[138]| 22 | people | +

finger | | |

dear | 12 | thing | +

bird | 12 | sings or flies | +

---------------------------------------------------------------------

In example II. we find a characteristic phenomenon. The test-person

is not content with the requirements of the instruction, that is, she

is not satisfied with _one_ word, but reacts with many words. She

apparently does more and better than the instruction requires, but in

so doing she does not fulfil the requirements of the instruction. Thus

she reacts:--custom--good--barbaric; foolish--narrow minded--restricted;

family--big--small--everything possible.

These examples show in the first place that many other words connect

themselves with the reaction word. The test person is unable to suppress

the ideas which subsequently occur to her. She also pursues a certain

tendency which perhaps is more exactly expressed in the following

reaction: new--old--as an opposite. The addition of "as an opposite"

denotes that the test-person has the desire to add something explanatory

or supplementary. This tendency is also shown in the following reaction:

finger--not only hand, also foot--a limb--member--extremity.

Here we have a whole series of supplements. It seems as if the reaction

were not sufficient for the test-person, something else must always

be added, as if what has already been said were incorrect or in some

way imperfect. This feeling is what Janet designates the "_sentiment

d'incomplétude_," but this by no means explains everything. I go

somewhat deeply into this phenomenon because it is very frequently met

with in neurotic individuals. It is not merely a small and unimportant

subsidiary manifestation demonstrable in an insignificant experiment,

but rather an elemental and universal manifestation which plays a _rôle_

in other ways in the psychic life of neurotics.

By his desire to supplement, the test-person betrays a tendency to give

the experimenter more than he wants, he actually makes great efforts to

find further mental occurrences in order finally to discover something

quite satisfactory. If we translate this observation into the psychology

of everyday life, it signifies that the test-person has a constant

tendency to give to others more feeling than is required and expected.

According to Freud, this is a sign of a reinforced object-libido, that

is, it is a compensation for an inner want of satisfaction and voidness

of feeling. This elementary observation therefore displays one of the

characteristics of hysterics, namely, the tendency to allow themselves

to be carried away by everything, to attach themselves enthusiastically

to everything, and always to promise too much and hence perform too

little. Patients with this symptom are, in my experience, always hard

to deal with; at first they are enthusiastically enamoured of the

physician, for a time going so far as to accept everything he says

blindly; but they soon merge into an equally blind resistance against

him, thus rendering any educative influence absolutely impossible.

We see therefore in this type of reaction an expression of a tendency to

give more than is asked or expected. This tendency betrays itself also

in other failures to follow the instruction:--

to quarrel--angry--different things--I always quarrel at home;

to marry--how can you marry?--reunion--union;

plum--to eat--to pluck--what do you mean by it?--is it symbolic?

to sin--this idea is quite strange to me, I do not recognise it.

These reactions show that the test-person gets away altogether from the

situation of the experiment. For the instruction was, that he should

answer only with the first word which occurs to him. But here we note

that the stimulus words act with excessive strength, that they are taken

as if they were direct personal questions. The test-person entirely

forgets that we deal with mere words which stand in print before us, but

finds a personal meaning in them; he tries to divine their intention and

defend himself against them, thus altogether forgetting the original

instructions.

This elementary observation discloses another common peculiarity of

hysterics, namely, that of taking everything personally, of never being

able to remain objective, and of allowing themselves to be carried away

by momentary impressions; this again shows the characteristics of the

enhanced object-libido.

Yet another sign of impeded adaptation is the often occurring

_repetition of the stimulus words_. The test-persons repeat the stimulus

word as if they had not heard or understood it distinctly. They repeat

it just as we repeat a difficult question in order to grasp it better

before answering. This same tendency is shown in the experiment. The

questions are repeated because the stimulus words act on hysterical

individuals in much the same way as difficult personal questions. In

principle it is the same phenomenon as the subsequent completion of the

reaction.

In many experiments we observe that the same reaction constantly

reappears to the most varied stimulus words. These words seem to possess

a special reproduction tendency, and it is very interesting to examine

their relationship to the test-person. For example, I have observed a

case in which the patient repeated the word "short" a great many times

and often in places where it had no meaning. The test-person could not

directly state the reason for the repetition of the word "short." From

experience I knew that such predicates always relate either to the

test-person himself or to the person nearest to him. I assumed that

in this word "short" he designated himself, and that in this way he

helped to express something very painful to him. The test-person is

of very small stature. He is the youngest of four brothers, who, in

contrast to himself, are all tall. He was always the "_child_" in the

family; he was nicknamed "Short" and was treated by all as the "little

one." This resulted in a total loss of self-confidence. Although he was

intelligent, and despite long study, he could not decide to present

himself for examination; he finally became impotent, and merged into a

psychosis in which, whenever he was alone, he took delight in walking

about in his room on his toes in order to appear taller. The word

"short," therefore, stood to him for a great many painful experiences.

This is usually the case with the perseverated words; they always

contain something of importance for the individual psychology of the

test-person.

The signs thus far discussed are not found spread about in an arbitrary

way through the whole experiment, but are seen in very definite places,

namely, where the stimulus words strike against emotionally accentuated

complexes. This observation is the foundation of the so-called

"diagnosis of facts" (_Tatbestandsdiagnostik_). This method is employed

to discover, by means of an association experiment, which is the culprit

among a number of persons suspected of a crime. That this is possible I

will demonstrate by the brief recital of a concrete case.

On the 6th of February, 1908, our supervisor reported to me that a

nurse complained to her of having been robbed during the forenoon of

the previous day. The facts were as follows: The nurse kept her money,

amounting to 70 francs, in a pocket-book which she had placed in her

cupboard where she also kept her clothes. The cupboard contained two

compartments, of which one belonged to the nurse who was robbed, and the

other to the head nurse. These two nurses and a third one, who was an

intimate friend of the head nurse, slept in the room where the cupboard

was. This room was in a section which was occupied in common by six

nurses who had at all times free access to the room. Given such a state

of affairs it is not to be wondered that the supervisor shrugged her

shoulders when I asked her whom she most suspected.

Further investigation showed that on the day of the theft, the

above-mentioned friend of the head nurse was slightly indisposed and

remained the whole morning in the room in bed. Hence, unless she herself

was the thief, the theft could have taken place only in the afternoon.

Of four other nurses upon whom suspicion could possibly fall, there was

one who attended regularly to the cleaning of the room in question,

while the remaining three had nothing to do in it, nor was it shown that

any of them had spent any time there on the previous day.

It was therefore natural that the last three nurses should be regarded

for the time being as less implicated, so I began by subjecting the

first three to the experiment.

From the information I had obtained of the case, I knew that the

cupboard was locked but that the key was kept near by in a very

conspicuous place, that on opening the cupboard the first thing which

would strike the eye was a fur boa, and, moreover, that the pocket-book

was between some linen in an inconspicuous place. The pocket-book was of

dark reddish leather, and contained the following objects: a 50-franc

banknote, a 20-franc piece, some centimes, a small silver watch-chain, a

stencil used in the lunatic asylum to mark the kitchen utensils, and a

small receipt from Dosenbach's shoeshop in Zürich.

Besides the plaintiff, only the head nurse knew the exact particulars

of the deed, for as soon as the former missed her money she immediately

asked the head nurse to help her find it, thus the head nurse had

been able to learn the smallest details, which naturally rendered the

experiment still more difficult, for she was precisely the one most

suspected. The conditions for the experiment were better for the others,

since they knew nothing concerning the particulars of the deed, and

some not even that a theft had been committed. As critical stimulus

words I selected the name of the robbed nurse, plus the following words:

cupboard, door, open, key, yesterday, banknote, gold, 70, 50, 20, money,

watch, pocket-book, chain, silver, to hide, fur, dark reddish, leather,

centimes, stencil, receipt, Dosenbach. Besides these words which

referred directly to the deed, I took also the following, which had a

special effective value: theft, to take, to steal, suspicion, blame,

court, police, to lie, to fear, to discover, to arrest, innocent.

The objection is often made to the last species of words that they

may produce a strong affective resentment even in innocent persons,

and for that reason one cannot attribute to them any comparative

value. Nevertheless, it may always be questioned whether the affective

resentment of an innocent person will have the same effect on the

association as that of a guilty one, and that question can only

be authoritatively answered by experience. Until the contrary is

demonstrated, I maintain that words of the above-mentioned type may

profitably be used.

I distributed these critical words among twice as many indifferent

stimulus words in such a manner that each critical word was followed by

two indifferent ones. As a rule it is well to follow up the critical

words by indifferent words in order that the action of the first may be

clearly distinguished. But one may also follow up one critical word by

another, especially if one wishes to bring into relief the action of the

second. Thus I placed together "darkish red" and "leather," and "chain"

and "silver."

After this preparatory work I undertook the experiment with the three

above-mentioned nurses. Following the order of the experiment, I shall

denote the friend of the head nurse by the letter A, the head nurse

by B, and the nurse who attended to the cleaning of the room by C. As

examinations of this kind can be rendered into a foreign tongue only

with the greatest difficulty, I will content myself with presenting the

general results, and with giving some examples. I first undertook the

experiment with A, and judging by the circumstances she appeared only

slightly moved. B was next examined; she showed marked excitement, her

pulse being 120 per minute immediately after the experiment. The last to

be examined was C. She was the most tranquil of the three; she displayed

but little embarrassment, and only in the course of the experiment

did it occur to her that she was suspected of stealing, a fact which

manifestly disturbed her towards the end of the experiment.

The general impression from the examination spoke strongly against the

head nurse B. It seemed to me that she evinced a very "suspicious," or

I might almost say, "impudent" countenance. With the definite idea of

finding in her the guilty one I set about adding up the results. You

will see that I was wrong in my surmise and that the test proved my

error.

One can make use of many special methods of computing, but they are

not all equally good and equally exact. (One must always resort to

calculation, as appearances are enormously deceptive.) The method

which is most to be recommended is that of the probable average of the

reaction time. It shows at a glance the difficulties which the person in

the experiment had to overcome in the reaction.

The technique of this calculation is very simple. The probable average

is the middle number of the various reaction times arranged in a series.

The reaction times are, for example,[139] placed in the following

manner: 5, 5, 5, 7, 7, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 9, 12, 13, 14. The number found in

the middle (8) is the probable average of this series.

The probable averages of the reaction are:

A B C

10·0 12·0 13·5.

No conclusions can be drawn from this result. But the average

reaction times calculated separately for the indifferent reactions,

for the critical, and for those immediately following the critical

(post-critical) are more interesting.

From this example we see that whereas A has the shortest reaction time

for the indifferent reactions, she shows in comparison to the other two

persons of the experiment, the longest time for the critical reactions.

THE PROBABLE AVERAGE OF THE REACTION TIME.

---------------------------------------------

for | A | B | C

------------------------+------+------+------

Indifferent reactions | 10·0 | 11·0 | 12·0

Critical reactions | 16·0 | 13·0 | 15·0

Post-critical reactions | 10·0 | 11·0 | 13·0

---------------------------------------------

The difference between the reaction times, let us say between the

indifferent and the critical, is 6 for A, 2 for B, and 3 for C, that is,

it is more than double for A when compared with the other two persons.

In the same way we can calculate how many complex indicators there are

on an average for the indifferent, critical, etc., reactions.

THE AVERAGE COMPLEX-INDICATORS FOR EACH REACTION.

---------------------------------------------

for | A | B | C

------------------------+------+------+------

Indifferent reactions | 0·6 | 0·9 | 0·8

Critical reactions | 1·3 | 0·9 | 1·2

Post-critical reactions | 0·6 | 1·0 | 0·8

---------------------------------------------

The difference between the indifferent and critical reactions for A =

0·7, for B = 0, for C = 0·4. A is again the highest.

Another question to consider is, the proportion of imperfect reactions

in each case.

The result for A = 34%, for B = 28%, and for C = 30%.

Here, too, A reaches the highest value, and in this, I believe, we see

the characteristic moment of the guilt-complex in A. I am, however,

unable to explain here circumstantially the reasons why I maintain that

memory errors are related to an emotional complex, as this would lead me

beyond the limits of the present work. I therefore refer the reader to

my work "_Ueber die Reproductionsstörrungen im Associationsexperiment_"

(IX Beitrag der Diagnost. Associat. Studien).[140]

As it often happens that an association of strong feeling tone produces

in the experiment a perseveration, with the result that not only the

critical association, but also two or three successive associations are

imperfectly reproduced, it will be very interesting to see how many

imperfect reproductions are so arranged in the series in our cases.

The result of computation shows that the imperfect reproductions thus

arranged in series are for A 64·7%, for B 55·5%, and for C 30·0%.

Again we find that A has the greatest percentage. To be sure, this

may partially depend on the fact that A also possesses the greatest

number of imperfect reproductions. Given a small number of reactions,

it is usual that the greater the total number of the same, the more the

imperfect reactions will occur in groups. But this cannot account for

the high proportion in our case, where, on the other hand, B and C have

not a much smaller number of imperfect reactions when compared to A. It

is significant that C with her slight emotions during the experiment

shows the minimum of imperfect reproductions arranged in series.

As imperfect reproductions are also complex indicators, it is necessary

to see how they distribute themselves in respect to the indifferent,

critical, etc., reactions.

It is hardly necessary to bring into prominence the differences between

the indifferent and the critical reactions of the various subjects as

shown by the resulting numbers of the table. In this respect, too, A

occupies first place.

IMPERFECT REPRODUCTIONS WHICH OCCUR.

----------------------------------------

in | A | B | C

------------------------+----+----+-----

Indifferent reactions | 10 | 12 | 11

Critical reactions | 19 | 9 | 12

Post-critical reactions | 5 | 7 | 7

----------------------------------------

Naturally, here, too, there is a probability that the greater the

number of the imperfect reproductions the greater is their number in

the critical reactions. If we suppose that the imperfect reproductions

are distributed regularly and without choice, among all the reactions,

there will be a greater number of them for A (in comparison with B and

C) even as reactions to critical words, since A has the greater number

of imperfect reproductions. Admitting such a uniform distribution of the

imperfect reproductions, it is easy to calculate how many we ought to

expect to belong to each individual kind of reaction.

From this calculation it appears that the disturbances of reproductions

which concern the critical reactions for A greatly surpass the number

expected, for C they are 0·9 higher, while for B they are lower.

IMPERFECT REPRODUCTIONS.

----------------------------------------------

Which may be expected |

---------------------------------------------+

| Indifferent | Critical | Post-critical |

For| Reactions. | Reactions.| Reactions. |

---+-------------+-----------+---------------+

A | 11·2 | 12·5 | 10·2 |

B | 9·2 | 10·3 | 8·4 |

C | 9·9 | 11·1 | 9·0 |

----------------------------------------------

-------------------------------------------

| Which really occur

--------------+----------------------------

| Indifferent | Critical | Post-critical

For| Reactions. | Reactions. | Reactions.

--------------+------------+---------------

A | 10 | 19 | 5

B | 12 | 9 | 7

C | 11 | 12 | 7

-------------------------------------------

All this points to the fact that in the subject A the critical stimulus

words acted with the greatest intensity, and hence the greatest

suspicion falls on A. Practically relying on the test one may assume the

probability of this person's guilt. The same evening A made a complete

confession of the theft, and thus the success of the experiment was

confirmed.

Such a result is undoubtedly of scientific interest and worthy of

serious consideration. There is much in experimental psychology which

is of less use than the material exemplified in this test. Putting the

theoretical interest altogether aside, we have here something that is

not to be despised from a practical point of view, to wit, a culprit

has been brought to light in a much easier and shorter way than is

customary. What has been possible once or twice ought to be possible

again, and it is well worth while to investigate some means of rendering

the method increasingly capable of rapid and sure results.

This application of the experiment shows that it is possible to strike

a concealed, indeed an unconscious complex by means of a stimulus word;

and conversely we may assume with great certainty that behind a reaction

which shows a complex indicator there is a hidden complex, even though

the test-person strongly denies it. One must get rid of the idea that

educated and intelligent test-persons are able to see and admit their

own complexes. Every human mind contains much that is unacknowledged

and hence unconscious as such; and no one can boast that he stands

completely above his complexes. Those who persist in maintaining that

they can, are not aware of the spectacles upon their noses.

* * * * *

It has long been thought that the association experiment enables one

to distinguish certain _intellectual_ types. That is not the case. The

experiment does not give us any particular insight into the purely

intellectual, but rather into the emotional processes. To be sure we

can erect certain types of reaction; they are not, however, based on

intellectual peculiarities, but depend entirely on the _proportionate

emotional states_. Educated test-persons usually show superficial and

linguistically deep-rooted associations, whereas the uneducated form

more valuable associations and often of ingenious significance. This

behaviour would be paradoxical from an intellectual view-point. The

meaningful associations of the uneducated are not really the product of

intellectual thinking, but are simply the results of a special emotional

state. The whole thing is more important to the uneducated, his

emotion is greater, and for that reason he pays more attention to the

experiment than the educated person, and his associations are therefore

more significant. Apart from those determined by education, we have to

consider three principal individual types:

1. An objective type with undisturbed reactions.

2. A so-called complex-type with many disturbances in the experiment

occasioned by the constellation of a complex.

3. A so-called definition-type. The peculiarity of this type consists in

the fact that the reaction always gives an explanation or a definition

of the content of the stimulus word; _e.g._:

apple,--a tree-fruit;

table,--a piece of household furniture;

to promenade,--an activity;

father,--chief of the family.

This type is chiefly found in stupid persons, and it is therefore quite

usual in imbecility. But it can also be found in persons who are not

really stupid, but who do not wish _to be taken as stupid_. Thus a young

student from whom associations were taken by an older intelligent woman

student reacted altogether with definitions. The test-person was of

the opinion that it was an examination in intelligence, and therefore

directed most of his attention to the significance of the stimulus

words; his associations, therefore, looked like those of an idiot. All

idiots, however, do not react with definitions; probably only those

react in this way who would like to appear smarter than they are, that

is, those to whom their stupidity is painful. I call this widespread

complex the "intelligence-complex." A normal test-person reacts in a

most overdrawn manner as follows:

anxiety--heart anguish;

to kiss--love's unfolding;

to kiss--perception of friendship.

This type gives a constrained and unnatural impression. The test-persons

wish to be more than they are, they wish to exert more influence than

they really have. Hence we see that persons with an intelligence-complex

are usually unnatural and constrained; that they are always somewhat

stilted, or flowery; they show a predilection for complicated foreign

words, high-sounding quotations, and other intellectual ornaments.

In this way they wish to influence their fellow-beings, they wish

to impress others with their apparent education and intelligence,

and thus to compensate for their painful feeling of stupidity. The

definition-type is closely related to the predicate-type, or, to express

it more precisely, to the predicate-type expressing personal judgment

(_Wertprädikattypus_). For example:

flower--pretty;

money--convenient;

animal--ugly;

knife--dangerous;

death--ghastly.

In the definition type the _intellectual_ significance of the stimulus

word is rendered prominent, but in the predicate type its _emotional_

significance. There are predicate-types which show great exaggeration

where reactions such as the following appear:

piano--horrible;

to sing--heavenly;

mother--ardently loved;

father--something good, nice, holy.

In the definition-type an absolutely _intellectual_ make-up is

manifested or rather simulated, but here there is a very _emotional_

one. Yet, just as the definition-type really conceals a lack of

intelligence, so the excessive _emotional_ expression conceals or

overcompensates an emotional deficiency. This conclusion is very

interestingly illustrated by the following discovery:--On investigating

the influence of the familiar milieus on the association-type it was

found that young people seldom possess a predicate-type, but that, on

the other hand, the predicate-type increases in frequency with advancing

age. In women the increase of the predicate-type begins a little after

the 40th year, and in men after the 60th. That is the precise time when,

owing to the deficiency of sexuality, there actually occurs considerable

emotional loss. If a test-person evinces a distinct predicate-type, it

may always be inferred that a marked internal emotional deficiency is

thereby compensated. Still, one cannot reason conversely, namely, that

an inner emotional deficiency must produce a predicate-type, no more

than that idiocy directly produces a definition-type. A predicate-type

can also betray itself through the external behaviour, as, for example,

through a particular affectation, enthusiastic exclamations, an

embellished behaviour, and the constrained sounding language so often

observed in society.

The complex-type shows no particular tendency except the _concealment_

of a complex, whereas the definition and predicate types betray a

positive tendency to exert in some way a _definite_ influence on the

experimenter. But whereas the definition-type tends to bring to light

its intelligence, the predicate-type displays its emotion. I need hardly

add of what importance such determinations are for the diagnosis of

character.

After finishing an association experiment I usually add another of a

different kind, the so-called _reproduction_ experiment. I repeat the

same stimulus words and ask the test-persons whether they still remember

their former reactions. In many instances the memory fails, and as

experience shows, these locations are stimulus words which touched an

emotionally accentuated complex, or stimulus words immediately following

such critical words.

This phenomenon has been designated as paradoxical and contrary to all

experience. For it is known that emotionally accentuated things are

better retained in memory than indifferent things. This is quite true,

but it does not hold for the _linguistic_ expression of an emotionally

accentuated content. On the contrary, one very easily forgets what he

has said under emotion, one is even apt to contradict himself about

it. Indeed, the efficacy of cross-examinations in court depends on

this fact. The reproduction method therefore serves to render still

more prominent the complex stimulus. In normal persons we usually find

a limited number of false reproductions, seldom more than 19-20 per

cent., while in abnormal persons, especially in hysterics, we often

find from 20-40 per cent. of false reproductions. The reproduction

certainty is therefore in certain cases a measure for the emotivity of

the test-person.

* * * * *

By far the larger number of neurotics show a pronounced tendency to

cover up their intimate affairs in impenetrable darkness, even from the

doctor, so that he finds it very difficult to form a proper picture

of the patient's psychology. In such cases I am greatly assisted by

the association experiment. When the experiment is finished, I first

look over the general course of the reaction times. I see a great many

very prolonged intervals; this means that the patient can only adjust

himself with difficulty, that his psychological functions proceed with

marked internal frictions with _resistances_. The greater number of

neurotics react only under great and very definite resistances; there

are, however, others in whom the average reaction times are as short as

in the normal, and in whom the other complex indicators are lacking,

but, despite that fact, they undoubtedly present neurotic symptoms.

These rare cases are especially found among very intelligent and

educated persons, chronic patients who, after many years of practice,

have learned to control their outward behaviour and therefore outwardly

display very little if any trace of their neuroses. The superficial

observer would take them for normal, yet in some places they show

disturbances which betray the repressed complex.

After examining the reaction times I turn my attention to the type of

the association to ascertain with what type I am dealing. If it is a

predicate-type I draw the conclusions which I have detailed above; if it

is a complex type I try to ascertain the nature of the complex. With the

necessary experience one can readily emancipate one's judgment from the

test-person's statements and almost without any previous knowledge of

the test-persons it is possible under certain circumstances to read the

most intimate complexes from the results of the experiment. I look at

first for the reproduction words and put them together, and then I look

for the stimulus words which show the greatest disturbances. In many

cases merely assorting these words suffices to unearth the complex. In

some cases it is necessary to put a question here and there. The matter

is well illustrated by the following concrete example:

It concerns an educated woman of 30 years of age, married three years

previously. Since her marriage she has suffered from episodic excitement

in which she is violently jealous of her husband. The marriage is a

happy one in every other respect, and it should be noted that the

husband gives no cause for the jealousy. The patient is sure that she

loves him and that her excited states are groundless. She cannot imagine

whence these excited states originate, and feels quite perplexed over

them. It is to be noted that she is a catholic and has been brought

up religiously, while her husband is a protestant. This difference of

religion did not admittedly play any part. A more thorough anamnesis

showed the existence of an extreme prudishness. Thus, for example, no

one was allowed to talk in the patient's presence about her sister's

childbirth, because the sexual moment suggested therein caused her the

greatest excitement. She always undressed in the adjoining room and

never in her husband's presence, etc. At the age of 27 she was supposed

to have had no idea how children were born. The associations gave the

results shown in the accompanying chart.

The stimulus words characterised by marked disturbances are the

following: yellow, to pray, to separate, to marry, to quarrel, old,

family, happiness, false, fear, to kiss, bride, to choose, contented.

The strongest disturbances are found in the following stimulus words:

_to pray_, _to marry_, _happiness_, _false_, _fear_, and _contented_.

These words, therefore, more than any others, seem to strike the

complex. The conclusions that can be drawn from this is that she is not

indifferent to the fact that her husband is a protestant, that she again

thinks of praying, believes there is something wrong with marriage,

that she is false, entertains fancies of faithlessness, is afraid (of

the husband? of the future?), she is not contented with her choice

(to choose) and she thinks of separation. The patient therefore has a

separation complex, for she is very discontented with her married life.

When I told her this result she was affected and at first attempted to

deny it, then to mince over it, but finally she admitted everything

I said and added more. She reproduced a large number of fancies of

faithlessness, reproaches against her husband, etc. _Her prudishness

and jealousy were merely a projection of her own sexual wishes on her

husband._ Because she was faithless in her fancies and did not admit it

to herself she was jealous of her husband.

[Illustration: For the stimulus words corresponding to the numbers, see

the list on pages 94 and 95.

The blue columns represent failures of reproductions, the green ones

represent repetitions of stimulus words, and the yellow columns show

those associations in which the patient either laughed or made mistakes,

using many words instead of one. The height of the columns represent the

length of the reaction time.

[_To face p. 118._]

]

It is impossible in a lecture to give a review of all the manifold

uses of the association experiment. I must content myself with having

demonstrated to you a few of its chief uses.

LECTURE II

THE FAMILIAL CONSTELLATIONS

Ladies and Gentlemen: As you have seen, there are manifold ways in which

the association experiment may be employed in practical psychology. I

should like to speak to you to-day about another use of this experiment

which is primarily of theoretical significance. My pupil, Miss Fürst,

M.D., made the following researches: she applied the association

experiment to 24 families, consisting altogether of 100 test-persons;

the resulting material amounted to 22,200 associations. This material

was elaborated in the following manner: Fifteen separate groups were

formed according to logical-linguistic standards, and the associations

were arranged as follows:

Husband Wife Difference

I. Co-ordination 6·5 0·5 6

II. Sub and supraordination 7 -- 7

III. Contrast -- -- --

IV. Predicate expressing a personal

judgment 8·5 95·0 86·5

V. Simple predicate 21·0 3·5 17·5

VI. Relations of the verb to the

subject or complement 15·5 0·5 15·0

VII. Designation of time, etc. 11·0 -- 11·0

VIII. Definition 11·0 -- 11·0

IX. Coexistence 1·5 -- 1·5

X. Identity 0·5 0·5 --

XI. Motor-speech combination 12·0 -- 12·0

XII. Composition of words -- -- --

XIII. Completion of words -- -- --

XIV. Clang associations -- -- --

XV. Defective reactions -- -- --

----- ----- -----

Total -- -- 173·5

173·5

Average difference ----- = 11·5

15

As can be seen from this example, I utilise the difference to

demonstrate the degree of the analogy. In order to find a basis for the

sum of the resemblance I have calculated the differences among all Dr.

Fürst's test-persons, not related among themselves, by comparing every

female test-person with all the other unrelated females; the same has

been done for the male test-persons.

The most marked difference is found in those cases where the two

test-persons compared have no associative quality in common. All the

groups are calculated in percentages, the greatest difference possible

being 200/15 = 13·3 per cent.

* * * * *

I. The average difference of male unrelated test-persons is 5·9 per

cent., and that of females of the same group is 6 per cent.

II. The average difference between male related test-persons is 4·1 per

cent., and that between female related tests-persons is 3·8 per cent.

From these numbers we see that relatives show a tendency to agreement in

the reaction type.

III. Difference between fathers and children = 4·2.

" " mothers " " = 3·5.

The reaction types of children come nearer to the type of the mother

than to the father.

IV. Difference between fathers and their sons = 3·1.

" " " " " daughters = 4·9.

" " mothers " " sons = 4·7.

" " " " " daughters = 3·0.

[Illustration: FIG. 11.

Tracing A. ---- father; ..... mother; ++++ daughter.

I. Assoc. by co-ordination; II. sub and supraordination; III. contrast,

etc. (see previous page).]

V. Difference between brothers = 4·7.

" " sisters = 5·1.

If the married sisters are omitted from the comparison we get the

following result:

Difference of unmarried sisters = 3·8. These observations show

distinctly that marriage destroys more or less the original agreement,

as the husband belongs to a different type.

Difference between unmarried brothers = 4·8.

Marriage seems to exert no influence on the association forms in men.

Nevertheless, the material which we have at our disposal is not as yet

enough to allow us to draw definite conclusions.

VI. Difference between husband and wife = 4·7.

[Illustration: FIG. 12.

Tracing B. ---- husband; ..... wife.]

This number sums up inadequately the different and very unequal values;

that is to say, there are some cases which show extreme difference and

some which show marked concordance.

The different results are shown in the tracings (Figs. 11-15).

In the tracings I have marked the number of associations of each quality

perpendicularly in percentages. The Roman letters written horizontally

represent the forms of association indicated in the above tables.

Tracing A. The father (black line) shows an objective type, while the

mother and daughter show the pure predicate type with a pronounced

subjective tendency.

Tracing B. The husband and wife agree well in the predicate objective

type, the predicate subjective being somewhat more numerous in the wife.

Tracing C. A very nice agreement between a father and his two daughters.

[Illustration: FIG. 13.

Tracing C. ---- father; ..... 1st daughter; ++++ 2nd daughter.]

Tracing D. Two sisters living together. The dotted line represents the

married sister.

[Illustration: FIG. 14.

Tracing D. ---- single sister; ..... married sister.]

Tracing E. Husband and wife. The wife is a sister of the two women of

tracing D. She approaches very closely to the type of her husband. Her

tracing is the direct opposite of that of her sisters.

[Illustration: FIG. 15.

Tracing E. ---- husband; ..... wife.]

The similarity of the associations is often very extraordinary. I will

reproduce here the associations of a mother and daughter.

Stimulus Word. Mother. Daughter.

to pay attention diligent pupil pupil

law command of God Moses

dear child father and mother

great God father

potato bulbous root bulbous root

family many persons 5 persons

strange traveller traveller

brother dear to me dear

to kiss mother mother

burn great pain painful

door wide big

hay dry dry

month many days 31 days

air cool moist

coal sooty black

fruit sweet sweet

merry happy child child

One might indeed think that in this experiment, where full scope is

given to chance, individuality would become a factor of the utmost

importance, and that therefore one might expect a very great diversity

and lawlessness of associations. But as we see the opposite is the

case. Thus the daughter lives contentedly in the same circle of ideas

as her mother, not only in her thought but in her form of expression;

indeed, she even uses the same words. What could be regarded as more

inconsequent, inconstant, and lawless than a fancy, a rapidly passing

thought? It is not lawless, however, neither is it free, but closely

determined within the limits of the milieu. If, therefore, even the

superficial and manifestly most inconsequent formations of the intellect

are altogether subject to the milieu-constellation, what must we not

expect for the more important conditions of the mind, for the emotions,

wishes, hopes, and intentions? Let us consider a concrete example,

illustrated by tracing A.

The mother is 45 years old and the daughter 16 years. Both have a very

distinct predicate-type expressing personal judgment, both differ from

the father in the most striking manner. The father is a drunkard and

a demoralised creature. We can thus readily understand that his wife

experiences an emotional voidness which she naturally betrays by her

enhanced predicate-type. The same causes cannot, however, operate in

the case of the daughter, for, in the first place, she is not married

to a drunkard, and, in the second, life with all its hopes and promises

still lies before her. It is distinctly unnatural for the daughter

to show an extreme predicate-type expressing personal judgment. She

responds to the stimuli of the environment just like her mother. But

whereas in the mother the type is in a way a natural consequence of her

unhappy condition of life, this condition is entirely lacking in the

daughter. The daughter simply imitates the mother; she merely appears

like the mother. Let us consider what this can signify for a young girl.

If a young girl reacts to the world like an old woman, disappointed

in life, this at once shows unnaturalness and constraint. But more

serious consequences are possible. As you know the predicate-type is a

manifestation of intensive emotions; the emotions are always involved.

Thus we cannot prevent ourselves from responding inwardly, at least,

to the feelings and passions of our immediate environment; we allow

ourselves to be infected and carried away by it. Originally the effects

and their physical manifestations had a biological significance; _i.e._

they were a protective mechanism for the individual and the whole

herd. If we manifest emotions, we can with certainty expect to receive

emotions in return. That is the feeling of the predicate-type. What the

45-year-old woman lacks in emotions, _i.e._ in love in her marriage

relations she seeks to obtain in the outside world, and for that reason

she is an ardent participant in the Christian Science movement. If

the daughter imitates this situation she copies her mother, she seeks

to obtain emotions from the outside. But for a girl of sixteen such

an emotional state is, to say the least, quite dangerous; like her

mother, she reacts to her environment as a sufferer soliciting sympathy.

Such an emotional state is no longer dangerous in the mother, but for

obvious reasons it is quite dangerous in the daughter. Once freed from

her father and mother she will be like her mother, _i.e._ she will be

a suffering woman craving for inner gratification. She will thus be

exposed to the great danger of falling a victim to brutality and of

marrying a brute and inebriate like her father.

This conception is of importance in the consideration of the influence

of environment and education. The example shows what passes over from

the mother to the child. It is not the good and pious precepts, nor

is it any other inculcation of pedagogic truths that have a moulding

influence upon the character of the developing child, but what most

influences him is the peculiarly affective state which is totally

unknown to his parents and educators. The concealed discord between

the parents, the secret worry, the repressed hidden wishes, all these

produce in the individual a certain affective state with its objective

signs which slowly but surely, though unconsciously, works its way

into the child's mind, producing therein the same conditions and hence

the same reactions to external stimuli. We know the depressing effect

mournful and melancholic persons have upon us. A restless and nervous

individual infects his surroundings with unrest and dissatisfaction,

a grumbler with his discontent, etc. Since grown-up persons are so

sensitive to surrounding influences, we should certainly expect this

to be even more noticeable among children, whose minds are as soft and

plastic as wax. The father and mother impress deeply into the child's

mind the seal of their personality; the more sensitive and mouldable the

child the deeper is the impression. Thus things that are never even

spoken about are reflected in the child. The child imitates the gesture,

and just as the gesture of the parent is the expression of an emotional

state, so in turn the gesture gradually produces in the child a similar

feeling, as it feels itself, so to speak, into the gesture. Just as the

parents adapt themselves to the world, so does the child. At the age

of puberty when it begins to free itself from the spell of the family,

it enters into life with, so to say, a surface adaptation entirely in

keeping with that of the father and mother. The frequent and often very

deep _depressions of puberty_ emanate from this; they are symptoms which

are rooted in the difficulty of new adjustment. The youthful person at

first tries to separate himself as much as possible from his family; he

may even estrange himself from it, but inwardly this only ties him the

more firmly to the parental image. I cite the case of a young neurotic

who ran away from his parents; he was estranged from, and almost hostile

to them, but he admitted to me that he possessed a special sanctum; it

was a strong box containing his old childhood books, old dried flowers,

stones, and even small bottles of water from the well at his home and

from a river along which he walked with his parents, etc.

The first attempts to assume friendship and love are constellated in

the strongest manner possible by the relation to parents, and here one

can usually observe how powerful are the influences of the familiar

constellations. It is not rare, for instance, for a healthy man whose

mother was hysterical to marry a hysteric, or for the daughter of an

alcoholic to choose an alcoholic for her husband. I was once consulted

by an intelligent and educated young woman of twenty-six who suffered

from a peculiar symptom. She thought that her eyes now and then took

on a strange expression which exerted a disagreeable influence on men.

If she then looked at a man he became self-conscious, turned away and

said something rapidly to his neighbour, at which both were either

embarrassed or inclined to laugh. The patient was convinced that her

look excited indecent thoughts in the men. It was impossible to convince

her of the falsity of her conviction. This symptom immediately aroused

in me the suspicion that I dealt with a case of paranoia rather than

with a neurosis. But as was shown only three days later by the further

course of the treatment, I was mistaken, for the symptom promptly

disappeared after it had been explained by analysis. It originated

in the following manner: The lady had a lover who deserted her in a

very marked manner. She felt utterly forsaken; she withdrew from all

society and pleasure, and entertained suicidal ideas. In her seclusion

there accumulated unadmitted and repressed erotic wishes which she

unconsciously projected on men whenever she was in their company.

This gave rise to the conviction that her look excited erotic wishes

in men. Further investigation showed that her deserting lover was a

lunatic, which she had not apparently observed. I expressed my surprise

at her unsuitable choice, and added that she must have had a certain

predilection for loving mentally abnormal persons. This she denied,

stating that she had once before been engaged to be married to a normal

man. He, too, deserted her; and on further investigation it was found

that he, too, had been in an insane asylum shortly before,--another

lunatic! This seemed to me to confirm with sufficient certainty my

belief that she had an unconscious tendency to choose insane persons.

Whence originated this strange taste? Her father was an eccentric

character, and in later years entirely estranged from his family. Her

whole love had therefore been turned away from her father to a brother

eight years her senior; him she loved and honoured as a father, and

this brother became hopelessly insane at the age of fourteen. That was

apparently the model from which the patient could never free herself,

after which she chose her lovers, and through which she had to become

unhappy. Her neurosis which gave the impression of insanity, probably

originated from this infantile model. We must take into consideration

that we are dealing in this case with a highly educated and intelligent

lady, who did not pass carelessly over her mental experiences, who

indeed reflected much over her unhappiness, without, however, having any

idea whence her misfortune originated.

There are things which unconsciously appear to us as a matter of course,

and it is for this reason that we do not see them truly, but attribute

everything to the so-called congenital character. I could cite any

number of examples of this kind. Every patient furnishes contributions

to this subject of the determination of destiny through the influence of

the familiar milieu. In every neurotic we see how the constellation of

the infantile milieu influences not only the character of the neurosis,

but also life's destiny, even in its minute details. The unhappy choice

of a profession, and innumerable matrimonial failures can be traced

to this constellation. There are, however, cases where the profession

has been well chosen, where the husband or wife leaves nothing to

be desired, and where still the person does not feel well but works

and lives under constant difficulties. Such cases often appear under

the guise of chronic neurasthenia. Here the difficulty is due to the

fact that the mind is unconsciously split into two parts of divergent

tendencies which are impeding each other; one part lives with the

husband or with the profession, while the other lives unconsciously in

the past with the father or mother. I have treated a lady who, after

suffering many years from a severe neurosis, merged into a dementia

præcox. The neurotic affection began with her marriage. This lady's

husband was kind, educated, well to do, and in every respect suitable

for her; his character showed nothing that would in any way interfere

with a happy marriage. The marriage was nevertheless unhappy, all

congenial companionship being excluded because the wife was neurotic.

The important heuristic axiom of every psychoanalysis reads as

follows: _If a person develops a neurosis this neurosis contains the

counter-argument against the relation of the patient to the individual

with whom he is most intimately connected._ A neurosis in the husband

loudly proclaims that he has intensive resistances and contrary

tendencies against his wife; if the wife has a neurosis she has a

tendency which diverges from her husband. If the person is unmarried

the neurosis is then directed against the lover or the sweetheart or

against the parents. Every neurotic naturally strives against this

relentless formulation of the content of his neurosis, and he often

refuses to recognise it at any cost, but still it is always justified.

To be sure, the conflict is not on the surface, but must generally be

revealed through a painstaking psychoanalysis.

The history of our patient reads as follows:

The father had a powerful personality. She was his favourite daughter,

and entertained for him a boundless veneration. At the age of seventeen

she for the first time fell in love with a young man. At that time she

twice dreamt the same dream, the impression of which never left her in

all her later years; she even imputed a mystic significance to it, and

often recalled it with religious dread. In the dream she saw a tall,

masculine figure with a very beautiful white beard; at this sight she

was permeated with a feeling of awe and delight as if she experienced

the presence of God Himself. This dream made the deepest impression

on her, and she was constrained to think of it again and again. The

love affair of that period proved to be one of little warmth, and was

soon given up. Later the patient married her present husband. Though

she loved her husband she was led continually to compare him with her

deceased father; this comparison always proved unfavourable to her

husband. Whatever the husband said, intended, or did, was subjected

to this standard and always with the same result: "My father would

have done all this better and differently." Our patient's life with

her husband was not happy, she could neither respect nor love him

sufficiently; she was inwardly dissatisfied. She gradually developed

a fervent piety, and at the same time violent hysterical symptoms

supervened. She began by going into raptures now over this and now over

that clergyman; she was looking everywhere for a spiritual friend, and

estranged herself more and more from her husband. The mental trouble

manifested itself about ten years after marriage. In her diseased state

she refused to have anything to do with her husband and child; she

imagined herself pregnant by another man. In brief, the resistances

against her husband, which hitherto had been laboriously repressed,

came out quite openly, and among other things manifested themselves in

insults of the gravest kind directed against him.

In this case we see how a neurosis appeared, as it were, at the moment

of marriage, _i.e. this neurosis expresses the counter-argument against

the husband_. What is the counter-argument? The counter-argument is

the father of the patient, for she verified her belief daily that her

husband was not the equal of her father. When the patient first fell in

love there had appeared a symptom in the form of an extremely impressive

dream or vision. She saw the man with the very beautiful white beard.

Who was this man? On directing her attention to the beautiful white

beard she immediately recognised the phantom. It was of course her

father. Thus every time the patient merged into a love affair the

picture of her father inopportunely appeared and prevented her from

adjusting herself psychologically to her husband.

I purposely chose this case as an illustration because it is simple,

obvious, and quite typical of many marriages which are crippled through

the neurosis of the wife. The cause of the unhappiness always lies in a

too firm attachment to the parents. The infantile relationship has not

been given up. We find here one of the most important tasks of pedagogy,

namely, the solution of the problem how to free the growing individual

from his unconscious attachments to the influences of the infantile

milieu, in such a manner that he may retain whatever there is in it that

is suitable and reject whatever is unsuitable. To solve this difficult

question on the part of the child seems to me impossible at present. We

know as yet too little about the child's emotional processes. The first

and only real contribution to the literature on this subject has in fact

appeared during the present year. It is the analysis of a five-year-old

boy published by Freud.

The difficulties on the part of the child are very great. They should

not, however, be so great on the part of the parents. In many ways

the parents could manage the love of children more carefully, more

indulgently, and more intelligently. The sins committed against

favourite children by the undue love of the parents could perhaps be

avoided through a wider knowledge of the child's mind. For many reasons

I find it impossible to say anything of general validity concerning the

bringing up of children as it is affected by this problem. We are as yet

very far from general prescriptions and rules; indeed we are still in

the realm of casuistry. Unfortunately, our knowledge of the finer mental

processes in the child is so meagre that we are not yet in any position

to say where the greatest trouble lies, whether in the parents, in the

child, or in the conception of the milieu. Only psychoanalyses of the

kind that Professor Freud has published in the _Jahrbuch_, 1909,[141]

will help us out of this difficulty. Such comprehensive and profound

observations should act as a strong inducement to all teachers to occupy

themselves with Freud's psychology. This psychology offers more values

for practical pedagogy than the physiological psychology of the present.

LECTURE III

EXPERIENCES CONCERNING THE PSYCHIC LIFE OF THE CHILD[142]

Ladies and Gentlemen: In our last lecture we saw how important the

emotional processes of childhood are for later life. In to-day's lecture

I should like to give you some insight into the psychic life of the

child through the analysis of a four-year-old girl. It is much to be

regretted that there are few among you who have had the opportunity

of reading the analysis of "Little Hans" (_Kleiner Hans_), which was

published by Freud during the current year.[143] I ought to begin by

giving you the content of that analysis, so that you might be in a

position to compare Freud's results with those obtained by me, and

observe the marked, and astonishing similarity between the unconscious

creations of the two children. Without a knowledge of the fundamental

analysis of Freud, much in the report of the following case will

appear strange, incomprehensible, and perhaps unacceptable to you. I

beg you, however, to defer your final judgment and to enter upon the

consideration of these new subjects with a kindly disposition, for such

pioneer work in virgin soil requires not only the greatest patience on

the part of the investigator, but also the unprejudiced attention of

his audience. Because the Freudian investigations apparently involve a

discussion of the most intimate secrets of sexuality many people have

had a feeling of repulsion against them, and have therefore rejected

everything as a matter of course without any real disproof. This,

unfortunately, has almost always been the fate of Freud's doctrines up

to the present. One must not come to the consideration of these matters

with the firm conviction that they do not exist, for it may easily

happen that for the prejudiced they really do not exist. One should

perhaps assume the author's point of view for the moment and investigate

these phenomena under his guidance. Only in this way can the correctness

or otherwise of our observations be affirmed. We may err, as all human

beings err. But the continual holding up to us of our mistakes--perhaps

they are worse than mistakes--does not help us to see things more

distinctly. We should prefer to see _wherein_ we err. That should be

demonstrated to us in our own sphere of experience. Thus far, however,

no one has succeeded in meeting us on our own ground, nor in giving us a

different conception of the things which we ourselves see. We still have

to complain that our critics persist in maintaining complete ignorance

about the matters in question. The only reason for this is that they

have never taken the trouble to become thoroughly acquainted with our

method; had they done this they would have understood us.

The little girl to whose sagacity and intellectual vivacity we are

indebted for the following observations is a healthy, lively child of

emotional temperament. She has never been seriously ill, and never,

even in the realm of the nervous system, had there been observed any

symptoms prior to this investigation. In the report which follows we

shall have to waive any connected description, for it is made up of

anecdotes which treat of one experience out of a whole cycle of similar

ones, and which cannot, therefore, be arranged scientifically and

systematically, but must rather be described somewhat in the form of a

story. We cannot as yet dispense with this manner of description in our

analytical psychology, for we are still far from being able in all cases

to separate with unerring certainty what is curious from what is typical.

* * * * *

When the little daughter, whom we will call Anna, was about three years

old, she once had the following conversation with her grandmother:

Anna: "Grandma, why are your eyes so dim?"

Grandma: "Because I am old."

A.: "But you will become young again."

G.: "No, do you know, I shall become older and older, and then I shall

die."

A.: "Well, and then?"

G.: "Then I shall be an angel."

A.: "And then will you be a little baby again?"

The child found here a welcome opportunity for the provisional solution

of a problem. For some time before she had been in the habit of asking

her mother whether she would ever have a living doll, a little child, a

little brother. This naturally included the question as to the origin of

children. As such questions appeared only spontaneously and indirectly,

the parents attached no significance to them, but responded to them

as lightly and in appearance as carelessly as the child seemed to ask

them. Thus she once received from her father the pretty story that

children are brought by the stork. Anna had already heard somewhere a

more serious version, namely, that children, are little angels living

in heaven, and are brought from heaven by the stork. This theory seems

to have become the starting point for the investigating activity of the

little one. From the conversation with the grandmother it could be seen

that this theory was capable of wide application, namely, it not only

solved in a comforting manner the painful idea of parting and dying,

but at the same time also the riddle of the origin of children. Such

solutions which kill at least two birds with one stone were formerly

tenaciously adhered to in science, and cannot be removed from the mind

of the child without a certain amount of shock.

Just as the birth of a little sister was the turning point in the

history of "Little Hans," so in this case it was the birth of a

brother, which happened when Anna had reached the age of four years.

The pregnancy of the mother apparently remained unnoticed; _i.e._ the

child never expressed herself on this subject. On the evening before the

birth, when labour pains were beginning, the child was in her father's

room. He took her on his knee and said, "Tell me, what would you say

if you should get a little brother to-night?" "I would kill him" was

the prompt answer. The expression "to kill" looks very serious, but

in reality it is quite harmless, for "to kill" and "to die" in child

language signify only to remove, either in the active or in the passive

sense, as has already been pointed out a number of times by Freud.

"To kill" as used by the child is a harmless word, especially so when

we know that the child uses the word "kill" quite promiscuously for

all possible kinds of destruction, removal, demolition, etc. It is,

nevertheless, worth while to note this tendency (see the analysis of

_Kleiner Hans_, p. 5).

The birth occurred early in the morning, and later the father entered

the room where Anna slept. She awoke as he came in. He imparted to her

the news of the advent of a little brother, which she took with surprise

and strained facial expression. The father took her in his arms and

carried her into the lying-in room. She first threw a rapid glance at

her somewhat pale mother and then displayed something like a mixture of

embarrassment and suspicion as if thinking, "Now what else is going to

happen?" (Father's impression.) She displayed hardly any pleasure at the

sight of the new arrival, so that the cool reception she gave it caused

general disappointment. During the forenoon she kept very noticeably

away from her mother; this was the more striking as she was usually

much attached to her. But once when her mother was alone she ran into

the room, embraced her and said, "Well, aren't you going to die now?"

Now a part of the conflict in the child's psyche is revealed to us.

Though the stork theory was never really taken seriously, she accepted

the fruitful re-birth hypothesis, according to which a person by dying

helps a child into life. Accordingly the mother, too, must die; why,

then, should the newborn child, against whom she already felt childish

jealousy, cause her pleasure? It was for this reason that she had to

seek a favourable opportunity of reassuring herself as to whether the

mother was to die, or rather was moved to express the hope that she

would not die.

With this happy issue, however, the re-birth theory sustained a severe

shock. How was it possible now to explain the birth of her little

brother and the origin of children in general? There still remained the

stork theory which, though never expressly rejected, had been implicitly

waived through the assumption of the re-birth theory. The explanations

next attempted unfortunately remained hidden from the parents as the

child went to stay with her grandmother for a few weeks. From the

latter's report the stork theory was often discussed, and was naturally

reinforced by the concurrence of those about her.

When Anna returned to her parents, she again, on meeting her mother,

evinced the same mixture of embarrassment and suspicion which she had

displayed after the birth. The impression, though inexplicable, was

quite unmistakable to both parents. Her behaviour towards the baby was

very nice. During her absence a nurse had come into the house who, on

account of her uniform, made a deep impression on Anna; to be sure, the

impression at first was quite unfavourable as she evinced the greatest

hostility to her. Thus nothing could induce her to allow herself to

be undressed and put to sleep by this nurse. Whence this resistance

originated was soon shown in an angry scene near the cradle of the

little brother in which Anna shouted at the nurse, "This is not your

little brother, he is mine!" Gradually, however, she became reconciled

to the nurse, and began to play nurse herself; she had to have her white

cap and apron, and "nursed" now her little brother, and now her doll.

In contrast to her former mood she became unmistakably mournful and

dreamy. She often sat for a long time under the table singing stories

and making rhymes, which were partially incomprehensible but sometimes

contained the "nurse" theme ("I am a nurse of the green cross"). Some of

the stories, however, distinctly showed a painful feeling striving for

expression.

Here we meet with a new and important feature in the little one's life:

that is, we meet with reveries, even a tendency towards poetic fancies

and melancholic attacks. All of them things which we are wont first

to encounter at a later period of life, at a time when the youth or

maiden is preparing to sever the family tie and to enter independently

upon life, but is still held back by an inward, painful feeling of

homesickness for the warmth of the parental hearth. At such a time the

youth begins to replace what is lacking with poetic fancies in order

to compensate for the deficiency. To approximate the psychology of a

four-year-old child to that of the youth approaching puberty will at

first sight seem paradoxical; the relationship lies, however, not in the

age but rather in the mechanism. The elegiac reveries express the fact

that a part of that love which formerly belonged, and should belong,

to a real object, is now _introverted_, that is, it is turned inward

into the subject and there produces an increased imaginative activity.

What is the origin of this _introversion_? Is it a psychological

manifestation peculiar to this age, or does it owe its origin to a

conflict?

This is explained in the following occurrence. It often happened that

Anna was disobedient to her mother, she was insolent, saying, "I am

going back to grandma."

Mother: "But I shall be sad when you leave me."

Anna: "Oh, but you have my little brother."

This reaction towards the mother shows what the little one was really

aiming at with her threats to go away again; she apparently wished to

hear what her mother would say to her proposal, that is, to see what

attitude her mother would actually assume to her, whether her little

brother had not ousted her altogether from her mother's regard. One

must, however, give no credence to this little trickster. For the child

could readily see and feel that, despite the existence of the little

brother, there was nothing essentially lacking to her in her mother's

love. The reproach to which she subjects her mother is therefore

unjustified, and to the trained ear this is betrayed by a slightly

affected tone. Such an unmistakable tone does not expect to be taken

seriously and hence it obtrudes itself more vehemently. The reproach

as such cannot be taken seriously by the mother, for it was only the

forerunner of other and this time more serious resistances. Not long

after the conversation narrated above, the following scene took place:

Mother: "Come, we are going into the garden now!"

Anna: "You are telling lies, take care if you are not telling the truth."

M.: "What are you thinking of? I _am_ telling the truth."

A.: "No, you are not telling the truth."

M.: "You will soon see that I am telling the truth: we are going into

the garden now."

A.: "Indeed, is that true? Is that really true? Are you not lying?"

Scenes of this kind were repeated a number of times. This time the

tone was more rude and more vehement, and at the same time the accent

on the word "lie" betrayed something special which the parents did not

understand; indeed, at first they attributed too little significance to

the spontaneous utterances of the child. In this they merely did what

education usually does in general, _ex officio_. We usually pay little

heed to children in every stage of life; in all essential matters, they

are treated as not responsible, and in all unessential matters, they are

trained with an automatic precision.

Under resistances there always lies a question, a conflict, of which we

hear later and on other occasions. But usually one forgets to connect

the thing heard with the resistances. Thus, on another occasion, Anna

put to her mother the following questions:--

Anna: "I should like to become a nurse when I grow big--why did you not

become a nurse?"

Mother: "Why, as I have become a mother I have children to nurse anyway."

A. (Reflecting): "Indeed, shall I be a lady like you, and shall I talk

to you then?"

The mother's answer again shows whither the child's question was really

directed. Apparently Anna, too, would like to have a child to "nurse"

just as the nurse has. Where the nurse got the little child is quite

clear. Anna, too, could get a child in the same way if she were big.

Why did not the mother become such a nurse, that is to say, how did

she get a child if not in the same way as the nurse? Like the nurse,

Anna, too, could get a child, but how that fact might be changed in

the future or how she might come to resemble her mother in the matter

of getting children is not clear to her. From this resulted the

thoughtful question, "Indeed, shall I be a lady like you? Shall I be

quite different?" The stork theory evidently had come to naught, the

dying theory met a similar fate; hence she now thinks one may get a

child in the same way, as, for example, the nurse got hers. She, too,

could get one in this natural way, but how about the mother who is no

nurse and still has children? Looking at the matter from this point of

view, Anna asks: "Why did you not become a nurse?" namely, "why have

you not got your child in the natural way?" This peculiar indirect

manner of questioning is typical, and evidently corresponds with the

child's hazy grasp of the problem, unless we assume a certain diplomatic

uncertainty prompted by a desire to evade direct questioning. We shall

later find an illustration of this possibility. Anna is evidently

confronted with the question "Where does the child come from?" The

stork did not bring it; mother did not die; nor did mother get it in

the same way as the nurse. She has, however, asked this question before

and received the information from her father that the stork brings

children; this is positively untrue, she can never be deceived on

this point. Accordingly, papa and mama and all the others lie. This

readily explains her suspicion at the childbirth and her discrediting

of her mother. But it also explains another point, namely, the elegiac

reveries which we have attributed to a partial introversion. We know

now what was the real object from which love was removed and uselessly

introverted, namely, it had to be taken _from the parents_ who deceived

her and refused to tell her the truth. (What can this be which must not

be uttered? What is going on here?) Such were the parenthetic questions

of the child, and the answer was: Evidently this must be something to

be concealed, perhaps something dangerous. Attempts to make her talk

and to draw out the truth by means of artful questions were futile,

so _resistance is placed against resistance_, and the introversion

of love begins. It is evident that the capacity for sublimation in a

four-year-old child is still too slightly developed to be capable of

performing more than symptomatic services. The mind, therefore, depends

on another compensation, namely, it resorts to one of the relinquished

infantile devices for securing love by force, preferably that of crying

and calling the mother at night. This had been diligently practised

and exhausted during her first year. It now returns, and corresponding

to the period of life has become well determined and equipped with

recent impressions. It was just after the earthquakes in Messina, and

this event was discussed at the table. Anna was extremely interested

in everything, she repeatedly asked her grandmother to tell her how

the earth shook, how the houses fell in and many people lost their

lives. After this she had nocturnal fears, she could not be alone, her

mother had to go to her and stay with her; otherwise she feared that an

earthquake would happen, that the house would fall and kill her. During

the day, too, she was much occupied with such thoughts. While walking

with her mother she annoyed her with such questions as, "Will the house

be standing when we return home? Are you sure there is no earthquake at

home? Will papa still be living?" About every stone lying in the road

she asked whether it was from an earthquake. A building in course of

erection was a house destroyed by the earthquake, etc. Finally, she

began to cry out frequently at night that the earthquake was coming and

that she heard the thunder. Each evening she had to be solemnly assured

that there was no earthquake coming.

Many means of calming her were tried, thus she was told, for example,

that earthquakes only occur where there are volcanoes. But then she

had to be satisfied that the mountains surrounding the city were not

volcanoes. This reasoning led the child by degrees to a desire for

learning, as strong as it was unnatural at her age, which showed itself

in a demand that all the geological atlases and text-books should be

brought to her from her father's library. For hours she rummaged through

these works looking for pictures of volcanoes and earthquakes, and

asking questions continually. Here we are confronted by an energetic

effort to sublimate the fear into an eager desire for knowledge,

which at this age made a decidedly premature exaction. But how many

a gifted child suffering in exactly the same way with such problems,

is "cosseted" through this untimely sublimation, by no means to its

advantage. For, by favouring sublimation at this age one is merely

strengthening manifestation of neurosis. The root of the eager desire

for knowledge is _fear_, and _fear is the expression of converted

libido_; that is, it is the expression of _an introversion which has

become neurotic_, which at this age is neither necessary nor favourable

for the development of the child.

Whither this eager desire for knowledge was ultimately directed is

explained by a series of questions which arose almost daily. "Why is

Sophie (a younger sister) younger than I?" "Where was Freddie (the

little brother) before? Was he in heaven? What was he doing there? Why

did he come down just now, why not before?"

This state of affairs led the father to decide that the mother should

tell the child when occasion offered _the truth concerning the origin

of the little brother_. This having been done, Anna soon thereafter

asked about the stork. Her mother told her that the story of the stork

was not true, but that Freddie grew inside his mother like the flowers

in a plant. At first he was very little, and then he became bigger and

bigger as a plant does. She listened attentively without the slightest

surprise, and then asked, "But did he come out all by himself?"

Mother: "Yes."

Anna: "But he cannot walk!"

Sophie: "Then he crawled out."

Anna, overhearing her little sister's answer: "Is there a hole here?

(pointing to the breast) or did he come out of the mouth? Who came

out of the nurse?" She then interrupted herself and exclaimed, "No,

no, the stork brought baby brother down from heaven." She soon left

the subject and again wished to see pictures of volcanoes. During the

evening following this conversation she was calm. The sudden explanation

produced in the child a whole series of ideas, which manifested

themselves in certain questions. New unexpected perspectives were

opened; she rapidly approached the main problem, namely, the question,

"_Where did the baby come out?_" _Was it from a hole in the breast

or from the mouth?_ Both suppositions are entirely qualified to form

acceptable theories. We even meet with recently married women who

still entertain the theory of the hole in the abdominal wall or of the

Cæsarean section; this is supposed to betray a very unusual degree of

innocence. But as a matter of fact it is not innocence; we are always

dealing in such cases with infantile sexual activities, which in later

life have brought the _vias naturales_ into ill repute.

It may be asked where the child got the absurd idea that there is a

hole in the breast, or that the birth takes place through the mouth.

Why did she not select one of the natural openings existing in the

pelvis from which things come out daily? The explanation is simple. Very

shortly before, our little one had invoked some educational criticism

from her mother by a heightened interest in both openings with their

remarkable excretions,--an interest not always in accord with the

requirements of cleanliness and decorum. Then for the first time she

became acquainted with the exceptional laws relating to these bodily

regions and, being a sensitive child, she soon learned that there was

something here to be tabooed. This region, therefore, must not be

referred to. Anna had simply shown herself docile and had so adjusted

herself to the cultural demands that she thought (at least spoke) of the

simplest things last. The incorrect theories substituted for correct

laws sometimes persist for years until brusque explanations come from

without. It is, therefore, no wonder that such theories, the forming of

and adherence to which are favoured even by parents and educationalists

should later become determinants for important symptoms in a neurosis,

or of delusions in a psychosis, just as I have shown that in dementia

præcox[144] what has existed in the mind for years always remains

somewhere, though it may be hidden under compensations of a seemingly

different kind.

But even before this question was settled as to where the child really

comes out a new problem obtruded itself, viz. the children came out

of the mother, but how is it with the nurse? Did some one come out of

her too? This question was followed by the remark, "No, no, the stork

brought down baby brother from heaven." What is there peculiar about the

fact that nobody came out of the nurse? We recall that Anna identified

herself with the nurse, and planned to become a nurse later, for she,

too, would like to have a child, and she could have one as well as the

nurse. But now when it is known that the little brother grew in mama,

how is it now?

This disquieting question is averted by a quick return to the

stork-angel theory which has never been really believed and which after

a few trials is at last definitely abandoned. Two questions, however,

remain in the air. The first reads as follows: Where does the child come

out? The second, a considerably more difficult one, reads: How does it

happen that mama has children while the nurse and the servants do not?

All these questions did not at first manifest themselves.

On the day following the explanation, while at dinner, Anna

spontaneously remarked: "My brother is in Italy, and has a house of

cloth and glass, but it does not tumble down."

In this case, as in the others, it was impossible to ask for an

explanation; the resistances were too great and Anna could not be drawn

into conversation. This former officious and pretty explanation is very

significant. For some three months the two sisters had been building

a stereotyped fanciful conception of a "big brother." This brother

knows everything, he can do and has everything, he has been and is in

every place where the children are not; he is owner of great cows,

oxen, horses, dogs; everything is his, etc. Every one has such a "big

brother." We must not look far for the origin of this fancy; the model

for it is the _father_ who seems to correspond to this conception;

he seems to be like a brother to mama. The children, too, have their

similar powerful "brother." This brother is very brave; he is at present

in dangerous Italy and inhabits an impossible fragile house, and _it

does not tumble down_. For the child this realises an important wish:

_the earthquake is no longer to be dangerous_; in consequence _the

child's fear disappeared and did not return_. The fear of earthquakes

now entirely vanished. Instead of calling her father to her bed to

conjure away the fear, she now became very affectionate and begged him

every night to kiss her.

In order to test this new state of affairs the father showed her

pictures illustrating volcanoes and earthquake devastations. Anna

remained unaffected, she examined the pictures with indifference,

remarking, "These people are dead; I have already seen that quite

often." The picture of a volcanic eruption no longer had any attraction

for her. Thus all her scientific interest collapsed and vanished as

suddenly as it came. During the days following the explanation Anna had

quite important matters to occupy herself with; she disseminated her

newly acquired knowledge among those about her in the following manner:

She began by again circumstantially affirming what had been told her,

viz. that Freddy, her younger sister, and herself had grown in her

mother, that papa and mama grew in their mothers, and that the servants

likewise grew in their respective mothers. By frequent questions she

tested the true basis of her knowledge, for her suspicion was aroused in

no small measure, so that it needed many confirmations to remove all her

uncertainties.

On one occasion the trustworthiness of the theory threatened to go

to pieces. About a week after the explanation, the father was taken

ill with influenza and had to remain in bed during the forenoon. The

children knew nothing about this, and Anna, coming into the parents'

bedroom, saw what was quite unusual, namely, that her father was

remaining in bed. She again took on a peculiar surprised expression; she

remained at a distance from the bed and would not come nearer; she was

apparently again reserved and suspicious. But suddenly she burst out

with the question, "Why are you in bed; have you a plant in your inside

too?"

The father naturally had to laugh. He calmed her, however, by assuring

her that children never grow in the father, that only women can have

children, and not men; thereupon the child again became friendly. But

though the surface was calm the problems continued to work in the dark.

A few days later, while at dinner, Anna related the following dream:

"I dreamed last night of Noah's ark." The father then asked her what

she had dreamed about it, but Anna's answer was sheer nonsense. In such

cases it is necessary only to wait and pay attention. A few minutes

later she said to her mother, "I dreamed last night about Noah's ark,

and there were a lot of little animals in it." Another pause. She then

began her story for the third time. "_I dreamed last night about Noah's

ark, and there were a lot of baby animals in it, and underneath there

was a lid and that opened and all the baby animals fell out._"

The children really had a Noah's ark, but its opening, a lid, was on the

roof and not underneath. In this way she delicately intimated that the

story of the birth from mouth or breast is incorrect, and that she had

some inkling where the children came out.

A few weeks then passed without any noteworthy occurrences. On one

occasion she related the following dream: "_I dreamed about papa and

mama; they had been sitting late in the study, and we children were

there too._" On the face of this we find a wish of the children to be

allowed to sit up as long as the parents. This wish is here realised,

or rather it is utilised to express a more important wish, namely, _to

be present in the evening when the parents are alone_; of course, quite

innocently, it was in the _study_ where she has seen all the interesting

books, and where she has satiated her thirst for knowledge; _i.e._ she

was really seeking an answer to the burning question, whence the little

brother came. If the children were there they would find out.[145] A

few days later Anna had a terrifying dream from which she awoke crying,

"The earthquake is coming, the house has begun to shake." Her mother

went to her and calmed her by saying that the earthquake was not coming,

that everything was quiet, and that everybody was asleep. Whereupon Anna

said: "_I would like to see the spring, when all the little flowers are

coming out and the whole lawn is full of flowers; I would like to see

Freddy, he has such a dear little face. What is papa doing? What is he

saying?_" The mother said, "He is asleep, and isn't saying anything

now." Little Anna then remarked with a sarcastic smile: "_He will surely

be sick again to-morrow._"

This text should be read backwards. The last sentence was not meant

seriously, as it was uttered in a mocking tone. When the father was sick

the last time, Anna suspected that he had a "plant in his inside." The

sarcasm signifies: "To-morrow papa is surely going to have a child." But

this also is not meant seriously. Papa is not going to have a child;

mama alone has children; perhaps she will have another child to-morrow;

but where from? "What does papa do?" The formulation of the difficult

problem seems here to come to the surface. It reads: What does papa

really do if he does not bear children? The little one is very anxious

to have a solution for all these problems; she would like to know how

Freddy came into the world, she would like to see how the little flowers

come out of the earth in the spring, and these wishes are hidden behind

the fear of earthquakes.

After this intermezzo Anna slept quietly until morning. In the morning

her mother asked her what she had dreamed. She did not at first recall

anything, and then said: "_I dreamed that I could make the summer, and

then some one threw a Punch_[146] _down into the closet._"

This peculiar dream apparently has two different scenes which are

separated by "then." The second part draws its material from the recent

wish to possess a Punch, that is, to have a boy doll just as mama has

a little boy. Some one threw Punch down into the closet; one often

lets other things fall down into the water closet. _It is just like

this that the children, too, come out._ We have here an analogy to the

"Lumpf-theory" of little Hans.[147] Whenever several scenes are found

in one dream, each scene ordinarily represents a particular variation

of the complex elaboration. Here accordingly the first part is only a

variation of the theme found in the second part. The meaning of "to see

the spring" or "to see the little flowers come out" we have already

remarked. Anna now dreams that she _can make the summer_, that is she

can bring it about that the little flowers shall come out. She herself

can make a little child, and the second part of the dream represents

this just as one makes a motion in the w.c. Here we find the egoistic

wish which is behind the seemingly objective interest of the previous

night's conversation.

A few days later the mother was visited by a lady who expected soon to

become a mother. The children seemed to take no interest in the matter,

but the next day they amused themselves with the following play which

was directed by the elder girl; they took all the newspapers they

could find in their father's paper-basket and stuffed them under their

clothes, so that the imitation was unmistakable. During the night little

Anna had another dream: "_I dreamed about a woman in the city; she had

a very big stomach._" The chief actor in a dream is always the dreamer

himself under some definite aspect; thus the childish play of the day

before is fully solved.

Not long after, Anna surprised her mother with the following

performance: She stuck her doll under her clothes, then pulled it out

slowly head downwards, and at the same time remarked, "_Look, the baby

is coming out, now it is all out._" By this means Anna tells her mother,

"You see, thus I apprehend the problem of birth. What do you think of

it? Is that right?" The play is really meant to be a question, for,

as we shall see later, this idea had to be officially confirmed. That

rumination on this problem by no means ended here, is shown by the

occasional ideas conceived during the following weeks. Thus she repeated

the same play a few days later with her Teddy Bear, who stands in the

relation of an especially beloved doll. One day, looking at a rose,

she said to her grandmother, "See, the rose is getting a baby." As her

grandmother did not quite understand her, she pointed to the enlarged

calyx and said, "Don't you see it is quite fat here?"

Anna once quarrelled with her younger sister, and the latter exclaimed

angrily, "I will kill you." Whereupon Anna answered, "When I am dead you

will be all alone; then you will have to pray to God for a live baby."

But the scene soon changed: Anna was the angel, and the younger sister

was forced to kneel before her and pray to her that she should present

to her a living child. In this way Anna became the child-dispensing

mother.

Oranges were once served at table. Anna impatiently asked for one and

said, "_I am going to take an orange and swallow it all down into my

stomach, and then I shall get a baby._" Who does not think here of

fairy tales in which childless women become pregnant by swallowing

fruit, fish, and similar things?[148] In this way Anna sought to solve

the problem _how the children actually come into the mother_. She thus

enters into a formulation which hitherto had not been defined with

so much clearness. The solution follows in the form of an _analogy_,

which is quite characteristic of the archaic thinking of the child.

(In the adult, too, there is a kind of thinking by metaphor which

belongs to the stratum lying immediately below consciousness; dreams

bring the analogies to the surface; the same may be observed also in

dementia præcox.) In German as well as in numerous foreign fairy tales

one frequently finds such characteristic childish comparisons. Fairy

tales seem to be the myths of the child, and therefore contain among

other things the mythology which the child weaves concerning the sexual

processes. The spell of the fairy tale poetry, which is felt even by

the adult, is explained by the fact that some of the old theories

are still alive in our unconscious minds. We experience a strange,

peculiar and familiar feeling when a conception of our remotest youth

is again stimulated. Without becoming conscious it merely sends into

consciousness a feeble copy of its original emotional strength.

The problem how the child gets into the mother was difficult to solve.

As the only way of taking things into the body is through the mouth, it

could evidently be assumed that the mother ate something like a fruit,

which then grows inside her. But then comes another difficulty, namely,

it is clear enough what the mother produces, but it is not yet clear

what the father is good for.

What does the father do? Anna now occupied herself exclusively with this

question. One morning she ran into the parents' bedroom while they were

dressing, she jumped into her father's bed, lay face downwards, kicked

with her legs and called at the same time, "_Look! does papa do that?_"

The analogy to the horse of "little Hans" which raised such disturbance

with its legs, is very surprising.

With this last performance the problem seemed to be at rest entirely,

at least the parents found no opportunity to make any pertinent

observations. That the problem should come to a standstill just here

is not at all surprising, for this is really its most difficult part.

Moreover, we know from experience that not many children go beyond

these limits during the period of childhood. The problem is almost

too difficult for the childish mind, which still lacks much knowledge

necessary to its solution.

This standstill lasted about five months, during which no phobias or

other signs of complex-elaboration appeared. After this lapse of time

there appeared premonitory signs of some new incidents. Anna's family

lived at that time in the country near a lake where the mother and

children could bathe. As Anna was afraid to wade farther into the water

than knee-deep, her father once put her into the water, which led to

an outburst of crying. In the evening while going to bed Anna asked

her mother, "Do you not believe that father wanted to drown me?" A few

days later there was another outburst of crying. She continued to stand

in the gardener's way until he finally placed her in a newly dug hole.

Anna cried bitterly, and afterwards maintained that the gardener wished

to bury her. Finally she awoke during the night with fearful crying.

Her mother went to her in the adjoining room and quieted her. She had

dreamed that "a train passed and then fell in a heap."

This tallies with the "stage coach" of "little Hans." These incidents

showed clearly enough that fear was again in the air, _i.e._ that a

resistance had again arisen preventing transference to the parents,

and that therefore a great part of her love was converted into fear.

This time suspicion was not directed against the mother, but against

the father, who she was sure must know the secret, but would never

let anything out. What could the father be doing or keeping secret?

To the child this secret appeared as something dangerous, so that she

felt the worst might be expected from the father. (This feeling of

childish anxiety with the father as object we see again most distinctly

in adults, especially in dementia præcox, which lifts the veil of

obscurity from many unconscious processes, as though it were following

psychoanalytic principles.) It was for this reason that Anna came to

the apparently absurd conclusion that her father wanted to drown her.

At the same time her fear contained the thought that the _object of the

father had some relation to a dangerous action_. This stream of thought

is no arbitrary interpretation. Anna meanwhile grew a little older and

her interest in her father took on a special colouring which is hard to

describe. Language has no words to describe the quite unique kind of

tender curiosity which shone in the child's eyes.

Anna once took marked delight in assisting the gardener while he was

sowing grass, without apparently divulging the profound significance

of her play. About a fortnight later she began to observe with great

pleasure the young grass sprouting. On one of these occasions she asked

her mother the following question: "Tell me, how did the eyes grow into

the head?" The mother told her that she did not know. Anna, however,

continued to ask whether God or her papa could tell this? The mother

then referred her to her father, who might tell her how the eyes grew

into the head. A few days later there was a family reunion at tea. When

the guests had departed, the father remained at the table reading the

paper and Anna also remained. Suddenly approaching her father she said,

"Tell me, how did the eyes grow into the head?"

Father: "They did not grow into the head; they were there from the

beginning and grew with the head."

A.: "Were not the eyes planted?"

F.: "No, they grew in the head like the nose."

A.: "Did the mouth and the ears grow in the same way? and the hair, too?"

F.: "Yes, they all grew in the same way."

A.: "And the hair, too? But the mousies came into the world naked. Where

was the hair before? Aren't there little seeds for it?"

F.: "No; you see, the hair really came out of little grains which are

like seeds, but these were already in the skin long before and nobody

sowed them." The father was now getting concerned; he knew whither the

little one's thoughts were directed, but he did not wish to overthrow,

for the sake of a former false application, the opportunely established

seed-theory which she had most fortunately gathered from nature; but the

child spoke with an unwonted seriousness which demanded consideration.

Anna (evidently disappointed, and in a distressed tone): "But how did

Freddy get into mama? Who stuck him in? and who stuck you into your

mama? Where did he come out from?"

From this sudden storm of questions the father chose the last for

his first answer. "Just think, you know well enough that Freddy is a

boy; boys become men and girls women. Only women and not men can have

children; now just think, where could Freddy come out from?"

A. (Laughs joyfully and points to her genitals): "Did he come out here?"

Father: "Yes, of course, you certainly must have thought of this before?"

A. (Overlooking the question): "But how did Freddy get into mama? Did

anybody plant him? Was the seed planted?"

This very precise question could no longer be evaded by the father.

He explained to the child, who listened with the greatest attention,

that the mother is like the soil and the father like the gardener; that

the father provides the seed which grows in the mother, and thus gives

origin to a baby. This answer gave extraordinary satisfaction; she

immediately ran to her mother and said, "Papa has told me everything,

now I know it all." She did not, however, tell what she knew.

The new knowledge was, however, put into play the following day. Anna

went to her mother and said, "Think, mama, papa told me how Freddy was

a little angel and was brought from heaven by a stork." The mother was

naturally surprised and said, "No, you are mistaken, papa surely never

told you such a thing!" whereupon the little one laughed and ran away.

This was apparently a mode of revenge. Her mother did not wish or was

not able to tell her how the eyes grew into the head, hence she did not

know how Freddy got into her. It was for this reason that she again

tried her with the old story.

* * * * *

I wish to impress firmly upon parents and educationists this instructive

example of child psychology. In the learned psychological discussions

on the child's psyche we hear nothing about those parts which are so

important for the health and naturalness of our children, nor do we hear

more about the child's emotions and conflicts; and yet they play a most

important rôle.

It very often happens that children are erroneously treated as quite

imprudent and irrational beings. Thus on indulgently remarking to

an intelligent father, whose four-year-old daughter masturbated

excessively, that care should be exercised in the presence of the child

who slept in the same room as the parents, I received the indignant

reply, "I can absolutely assure you that the child knows nothing about

sexual matters." This recalls that distinguished old neurologist who

wished to deny the attribute "sexual" to a childbirth phantasy which was

represented in a dreamy state.

On the other hand, a child evincing neurotic talent exaggerated by

neurosis may be urged on by solicitous parents. How easy and tempting

it would have been, _e.g._ in the present case, to admire, excite, and

develop prematurely the child's eager desire for learning, and thereby

develop an unnatural _blasé_ state and a precociousness masking a

neurosis! In such cases the parents must look after their own complexes

and complex tendencies and not make capital out of them at the expense

of the child. The idea should be dismissed once for all that children

are to be held in bondage by their parents or that they are their toys.

They are characteristic and new beings. In the matter of enlightenment

on sexual things it can be affirmed that they suffer from the

preconceived opinion that the truth is harmful. Many neurologists are of

opinion that even in grown-ups enlightenment on their own psychosexual

processes is harmful and even immoral. Would not the same persons

perhaps refuse to admit the existence of the genitals themselves?

One should not, however, go from this extreme of prudishness to the

opposite one, namely that of enlightenment _à tout prix_, which may

turn out as foolish as it is disagreeable. In this matter I believe

much discretion is advisable; still if children come upon an idea, they

should be deceived no more than adults.

I hope, ladies and gentlemen, that I have shown you what complicated

psychic processes psychoanalytic investigation reveals in the child, and

how great is the significance of these processes for the mental health

as well as for the general psychic development of the child. What I have

been unable to show is the universal validity of these observations.

Unfortunately, I am not in a position to demonstrate this, for I do not

know myself how much of it is universally valid. Only by accumulation

of such observations and further penetration into the problems broached

shall we gain a complete insight into the laws of psychical development.

It is to be regretted that we are at present still far from this goal.

But I confidently hope that educators and practical psychologists,

whether physicians or deep-thinking parents, will not leave us too long

unassisted in this immensely important and interesting field.

LITERATURE.

1. FREUD. "Die Traumdeutung," II Auflage. Deuticke, Wien, 1909.

2. ---- ----. "Sammlung kleiner Schriften zur Neurosenlehre," Band

I & II. Deuticke, Wien.

3. ---- ----. "Analyse der Phobie eines 5 jahrigen Knaben,"

_Jahrbuch für Psychoanalytische u. Psychopathologische

Forschungen_, Band I. Deuticke, Wien, 1908.

4. FREUD. "Der Inhalt der Psychose," _Freud's Shriften zur

angewandten Seelenkunde._ Deuticke, 1908.

5. JUNG. "Diagnostische Associationsstudien," Band I. Barth,

Leipzig, 1906.

6. ---- ----. "Die Psychologische Diagnose des Thatbestandes." Carl

Marhold, Halle, 1906.

7. JUNG. "Die Bedeutung des Vaters für das Schicksal des

Einzelnen." Deuticke, Wien, 1908.

8. JUNG. "The Psychology of Dementia Præcox," translated by

Peterson and Brill, _Journal of Mental and Nervous Diseases_,

Monograph Series, No. 2.

9. FÜRST. "Statistische Untersuchungen über Wortassoziationen

und über familiäre Übereinstimmung im Reactionstypus bei

Ungebildeten," X. Beitrag der Diagnost. Assoc. Studien, vol. II.

10. BRILL. "Psychological Factors in Dementia Præcox,"

_Journal of Abnormal Psychology_, vol. III., No. 4.

11. ---- ----. "A case of Schizophrenia," _American Journal of

Insanity_, vol. LXVI., No. 1.

12. "Le Nuove Vedute della Psicologia Criminale," _Rivista de

Psicologia Applicata_, 1908, No. 4.

13. "L'Analyse des Rêves," _Année Psychologique_, 1909, Tome

XV.

14. "Associations d'idées Familiales," _Archives de

Psychologie_, T. VII., No. 26.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 125: Lectures delivered at the celebration of the twentieth

anniversary of the opening of Clark University, September, 1909;

translated from the German by Dr. A. A. Brill, of New York. Reprinted by

kind permission of Dr. Stanley Hall.]

[Footnote 126: The selection of these stimulus words was naturally made

for the German language only, and would probably have to be considerably

changed for the English language.]

[Footnote 127: Denotes misunderstanding.]

[Footnote 128: Denotes repetition of the stimulus words.]

[Footnote 129: Denotes repetition of the stimulus words.]

[Footnote 130: + denotes Reproduced unchanged.]

[Footnote 131: Denotes misunderstanding.]

[Footnote 132: Denotes repetition of the stimulus words.]

[Footnote 133: Denotes misunderstanding.]

[Footnote 134: Denotes repetition of the stimulus words.]

[Footnote 135: Denotes repetition of the stimulus words.]

[Footnote 136: Denotes repetition of the stimulus words.]

[Footnote 137: Denotes repetition of the stimulus words.]

[Footnote 138: Denotes repetition of the stimulus words.]

[Footnote 139: Reaction times are always given in fifths of a second.]

[Footnote 140: "Studies in Word Association," in course of publication.]

[Footnote 141: "Jahrbuch für Psychoanalytische und Psychopathologische

Forschungen," Band I. Deuticke, Wien, 1902.]

[Footnote 142: This lecture was originally published in the "Jahrbuch

für Psychoanalytische und Psychopathologische Forschungen," Band II.]

[Footnote 143: "Jahrbuch für Psychoanalytische und Psychopathologische

Forschungen," Band I. Deuticke, Wien, 1902.]

[Footnote 144: Jung: "The Psychology of Dementia Præcox," translated by

Peterson and Brill. _Journal of Nervous and Mental Diseases_, Monograph

Series, No. 3.]

[Footnote 145: This wish to sit up with the father and mother until late

at night often plays a great part later in a neurosis.]

[Footnote 146: A doll from Punch and Judy.]

[Footnote 147: See analysis of a five-year-old boy, _Jahrbuch f.

Psychoanalytische u. Psychopathologische Forschungen_, vol. I.]

[Footnote 148: Franz Riklin, "Fulfilment of Wishes and Symbolism in

Fairy Tales."]

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