also for the dream pictures; indeed, their domination evinces itself in
a purer and stronger expression in the dream than elsewhere.
Strümpell[62] (p. 70) says: “The dream follows either the laws of
undisguised presentations as it seems exclusively or organic stimuli
along with such presentations, that is, without being influenced by
reflection and reason, æsthetic sense, and moral judgment.” The authors
whose views I reproduce here conceive the formation of the dream in
about the following manner: The sum of sensation stimuli affecting sleep
from the various sources, discussed elsewhere, at first awaken in the
mind a sum of presentations which represent themselves as hallucinations
(according to Wundt, it is more correct to say as illusions, because of
their origin from outer and inner stimuli). These unite with one another
according to the known laws of association, and, following the same
rules, in turn evoke a new series of presentations (pictures). This
entire material is then elaborated as well as possible by the still
active remnant of the organising and thinking mental faculties (_cf._
Wundt[76] and Weygandt[75]). But thus far no one has been successful in
finding the motive which would decide that the awakening of pictures
which do not originate objectively follow this or that law of
association.
But it has been repeatedly observed that the associations which connect
the dream presentations with one another are of a particular kind, and
different from those found in the waking mental activity. Thus
Volkelt[72] says: “In the dream, the ideas chase and hunt each other on
the strength of accidental similarities and barely perceptible
connections. All dreams are pervaded by such loose and free
associations.” Maury[48] attaches great value to this characteristic of
connection between presentations, which allows him to bring the dream
life in closer analogy to certain mental disturbances. He recognises two
main characters of the _délire_: “(1) une action spontanée et comme
automatique de l’esprit; (2) une association vicieuse et irregulière des
idées” (p. 126). Maury gives us two excellent examples from his own
dreams, in which the mere similarity of sound forms the connection of
the dream presentations. He dreamed once that he undertook a pilgrimage
(_pélerinage_) to Jerusalem or Mecca. After many adventures he was with
the chemist Pelletier; the latter after some talk gave him a zinc shovel
(_pelle_) which became his long battle sword in the dream fragment which
followed (p. 137). On another occasion he walked in a dream on the
highway and read the kilometres on the milestones; presently he was with
a spice merchant who had large scales with which to weigh Maury; the
spice merchant then said to him: “You are not in Paris; but on the
island Gilolo.” This was followed by many pictures, in which he saw the
flower Lobelia, then the General Lopez, of whose demise he had read
shortly before. He finally awoke while playing a game of lotto.
We are, however, quite prepared to hear that this depreciation of the
psychic activities of the dream has not remained without contradiction
from the other side. To be sure, contradiction seems difficult here. Nor
is it of much significance that one of the depreciators of dream life,
Spitta[64] (p. 118), assures us that the same psychological laws which
govern the waking state rule the dream also, or that another (Dugas[19])
states: “Le rêve n’est pas déraison ni même irraison pure,” as long as
neither of them has made any effort to bring this estimation into
harmony with the psychic anarchy and dissolution of all functions in the
dream described by them. Upon others, however, the possibility seems to
have dawned that the madness of the dream is perhaps not without its
method—that it is perhaps only a sham, like that of the Danish prince,
to whose madness the intelligent judgment here cited refers. These
authors must have refrained from judging by appearances, or the
appearance which the dream showed to them was quite different.
Without wishing to linger at its apparent absurdity, Havelock Ellis[23]
considers the dream as “an archaic world of vast emotions and imperfect
thoughts,” the study of which may make us acquainted with primitive
stages of development of the psychic life. A thinker like Delbœuf[16]
asserts—to be sure without adducing proof against the contradictory
material, and hence indeed unjustly: “Dans le sommeil, hormis la
perception, toutes les facultés de l’esprit, intelligence, imagination,
mémoire, volonté, moralité, restant intactes dans leur essence;
seulement, elles s’appliquent à des objets imaginaires et mobiles. Le
songeur est un acteur qui joue à volonté les fous et les sages, les
bourreaux et les victimes, les nains et les géants, les démons et les
anges” (p. 222). The Marquis of Hervey, who is sharply controverted by
Maury,[48] and whose work I could not obtain despite all effort, seems
to combat most energetically the under-estimation of the psychic
capacity in the dream. Maury speaks of him as follows (p. 19): “M. le
Marquis d’Hervey prête à l’intelligence, durant le sommeil toute sa
liberté d’action et d’attention et il ne semble faire consister le
sommeil que dans l’occlusion des sens, dans leur fermeture au monde
extérieur; en sorte que l’homme qui dort ne se distingué guère, selon sa
manière de voir, de l’homme qui laisse vaguer sa pensée en se bouchant
les sens; toute la différence qui séparé alors la pensée ordinaire du
celle du dormeur c’est que, chez celui-ci, l’idée prend une forme
visible, objective et ressemble, à s’y méprendre, à la sensation
déterminée par les objets extérieurs; le souvenir revêt l’apparence du
fait présent.”
Maury adds, however; “Qu’il y a une différence de plus et capitale à
savoir que les facultés intellectuelles de l’homme endormi n’offrent pas
l’équilibre qu’elles gardent chez l’homme l’éveillé.”
The scale of the estimation of the dream as a psychic product has a
great range in the literature; it reaches from the lowest
under-estimation, the expression of which we have come to know, through
the idea of a value not yet revealed to the over-estimation which places
the dream far above the capacities of the waking life. Hildebrandt,[35]
who, as we know, sketches the psychological characteristics into three
antinomies, sums up in the third of these contradistinctions the extreme
points of this series as follows (p. 19): “It is between a climax, often
an involution which raises itself to virtuosity, and on the other hand a
decided diminution and weakening of the psychic life often leading below
the human niveau.”
“As for the first, who could not confirm from his own experience that,
in the creations and weavings of the genius of the dream, there
sometimes comes to light a profundity and sincerity of emotion, a
tenderness of feeling, a clearness of view, a fineness of observation,
and a readiness of wit, all which we should modestly have to deny that
we possess as a constant property during the waking life? The dream has
a wonderful poetry, an excellent allegory, an incomparable humour, and a
charming irony. It views the world under the guise of a peculiar
idealisation, and often raises the effect of its manifestations into the
most ingenious understanding of the essence lying at its basis. It
represents for us earthly beauty in true heavenly radiance, the sublime
in the highest majesty, the actually frightful in the most gruesome
figure, and the ridiculous in the indescribably drastic comical; and at
times we are so full of one of these impressions after awakening that we
imagine that such a thing has never been offered to us by the real
world.”
One may ask, is it really the same object that the depreciating remarks
and these inspired praises are meant for? Have the latter overlooked the
stupid dreams and the former the thoughtful and ingenious dreams? And if
both kinds do occur—that is, dreams that merit to be judged in this or
that manner—does it not seem idle to seek the psychological character of
the dream? Would it not suffice to state that everything is possible in
the dream, from the lowest depreciation of the psychic life to a raising
of the same which is unusual in the waking state? As convenient as this
solution would be it has this against it, that behind the efforts of all
dream investigators, it seems to be presupposed that there is such a
definable character of the dream, which is universally valid in its
essential features and which must eliminate these contradictions.
It is unquestionable that the psychic capacities of the dream have found
quicker and warmer recognition in that intellectual period which now
lies behind us, when philosophy rather than exact natural science ruled
intelligent minds. Utterances like those of Schubert, that the dream
frees the mind from the power of outer nature, that it liberates the
soul from the chains of the sensual, and similar opinions expressed by
the younger Fichte,[M] and others, who represent the dream as a soaring
up of the psychic life to a higher stage, hardly seem conceivable to us
to-day; they are only repeated at present by mystics and devotees. With
the advance of the scientific mode of thinking, a reaction took place in
the estimation of the dream. It is really the medical authors who are
most prone to underrate the psychic activity in the dream, as being
insignificant and invaluable, whereas, philosophers and unprofessional
observers—amateur psychologists—whose contributions in this realm can
surely not be overlooked, in better agreement with the popular ideas,
have mostly adhered to the psychic value of the dream. He who is
inclined to underrate the psychic capacity in the dream prefers, as a
matter of course, the somatic exciting sources in the etiology of the
dream; he who leaves to the dreaming mind the greater part of its
capacities, naturally has no reason for not also admitting independent
stimuli for dreaming.
Among the superior activities which, even on sober comparison, one is
tempted to ascribe to the dream life, memory is the most striking; we
have fully discussed the frequent experiences which prove this fact.
Another superiority of the dream life, frequently extolled by the old
authors, viz. that it can regard itself supreme in reference to distance
of time and space, can be readily recognised as an illusion. This
superiority, as observed by Hildebrandt,[35] is only illusional; the
dream takes as much heed of time and space as the waking thought, and
this because it is only a form of thinking. The dream is supposed to
enjoy still another advantage in reference to time; that is, it is
independent in still another sense of the passage of time. Dreams like
the guillotine dream of Maury,[48] reported above, seem to show that the
dream can crowd together more perception content in a very short space
of time than can be controlled by our psychic activity in the waking
mind. These conclusions have been controverted, however, by many
arguments; the essays of Le Lorrain[45] and Egger[20] “Concerning the
apparent duration of dreams” gave rise to a long and interesting
discussion which has probably not said the last word upon this delicate
and far-reaching question.
That the dream has the ability to take up the intellectual work of the
day and bring to a conclusion what has not been settled during the day,
that it can solve doubt and problems, and that it may become the source
of new inspiration in poets and composers, seems to be indisputable, as
is shown by many reports and by the collection compiled by
Chabaneix.[11] But even if there be no dispute as to the facts,
nevertheless their interpretation is open in principle to a great many
doubts.
Finally the asserted divinatory power of the dream forms an object of
contention in which hard unsurmountable reflection encounters obstinate
and continued faith. It is indeed just that we should refrain from
denying all that is based on fact in this subject, as there is a
possibility that a number of such cases may perhaps be explained on a
natural psychological basis.
(_f_) _The Ethical Feelings in the Dream._—For reasons which will be
understood only after cognisance has been taken of my own investigations
of the dream, I have separated from the psychology of the dream the
partial problem whether and to what extent the moral dispositions and
feelings of the waking life extend into the dreams. The same
contradictions which we were surprised to observe in the authors’
descriptions of all the other psychic capacities strike us again here.
Some affirm decidedly that the dream knows nothing of moral obligations;
others as decidedly that the moral nature of man remains even in his
dream life.
A reference to our dream experience of every night seems to raise the
correctness of the first assertion beyond doubt. Jessen[36] says (p.
553): “Nor does one become better or more virtuous in the dream; on the
contrary, it seems that conscience is silent in the dream, inasmuch as
one feels no compassion and can commit the worst crimes, such as theft,
murder, and assassination, with perfect indifference and without
subsequent remorse.”
Radestock[54] (p. 146) says: “It is to be noticed that in the dream the
associations terminate and the ideas unite without being influenced by
reflection and reason, æsthetic taste, and moral judgment; the judgment
is extremely weak, and ethical indifference reigns supreme.”
Volkelt[72] (p. 23) expresses himself as follows: “As every one knows,
the sexual relationship in the dream is especially unbridled. Just as
the dreamer himself is shameless in the extreme, and wholly lacking
moral feeling and judgment, so also he sees others, even the most
honoured persons, engaged in actions which even in thought he would
blush to associate with them in his waking state.”
Utterances like those of Schopenhauer, that in the dream every person
acts and talks in accordance with his character, form the sharpest
contrast to those mentioned above. R. P. Fischer[N] maintains that the
subjective feelings and desires or affects and passions manifest
themselves in the wilfulness of the dream life, and that the moral
characteristics of a person are mirrored in his dream.
Haffner[32] (p. 25): “With rare exceptions ... a virtuous person will be
virtuous also in his dreams; he will resist temptation, and show no
sympathy for hatred, envy, anger, and all other vices; while the sinful
person will, as a rule, also find in his dreams the pictures which he
has before him while awake.”
Scholz[59] (p. 36): “In the dream there is truth; despite all masking in
pride or humility, we still recognise our own self.... The honest man
does not commit any dishonourable offence even in the dream, or, if this
does occur, he is terrified over it as if over something foreign to his
nature. The Roman emperor who ordered one of his subjects to be executed
because he dreamed that he cut off the emperor’s head, was not wrong in
justifying his action on the ground that he who has such dreams must
have similar thoughts while awake. About a thing that can have no place
in our mind we therefore say significantly: ‘I would never dream of such
a thing.’”
Pfaff,[O] varying a familiar proverb, says: “Tell me for a time your
dreams, and I will tell you what you are within.”
The short work of Hildebrandt,[35] from which I have already taken so
many quotations, a contribution to the dream problem as complete and as
rich in thought as I found in the literature, places the problem of
morality in the dream as the central point of its interest. For
Hildebrandt, too, it is a strict rule that the purer the life, the purer
the dream; the impurer the former, the impurer the latter.
The moral nature of man remains even in the dream: “But while we are not
offended nor made suspicious by an arithmetical error no matter how
obvious, by a reversal of science no matter how romantic, or by an
anachronism no matter how witty, we nevertheless do not lose sight of
the difference between good and evil, right and wrong, virtue and vice.
No matter how much of what follows us during the day may vanish in our
hours of sleep—Kant’s categorical imperative sticks to our heels as an
inseparable companion from whom we cannot rid ourselves even in
slumber.... This can be explained, however, only by the fact that the
fundamental in human nature, the moral essence, is too firmly fixed to
take part in the activity of the kaleidoscopic shaking up to which
phantasy, reason, memory, and other faculties of the same rank succumb
in the dream” (p. 45, &c.).
In the further discussion of the subject we find remarkable distortion
and inconsequence in both groups of authors. Strictly speaking, interest
in immoral dreams would cease for all those who assert that the moral
personality of the person crumbles away in the dream. They could just as
calmly reject the attempt to hold the dreamer responsible for his
dreams, and to draw inferences from the badness of his dreams as to an
evil strain in his nature, as they rejected the apparently similar
attempt to demonstrate the insignificance of his intellectual life in
the waking state from the absurdity of his dreams. The others for whom
“the categorical imperative” extends also into the dream, would have to
accept full responsibility for the immoral dreams; it would only be
desirable for their own sake that their own objectionable dreams should
not lead them to abandon the otherwise firmly held estimation of their
own morality.
Still it seems that no one knows exactly about himself how good or how
bad he is, and that no one can deny the recollection of his own immoral
dreams. For besides the opposition already mentioned in the criticism of
the morality of the dream, both groups of authors display an effort to
explain the origin of the immoral dream and a new opposition is
developed, depending on whether their origin is sought in the functions
of the psychic life or in the somatically determined injuries to this
life. The urgent force of the facts then permits the representatives of
the responsibility, as well as of the irresponsibility of the dream
life, to agree in the recognition of a special psychic source for the
immorality of dreams.
All those who allow the continuance of the morality in the dream
nevertheless guard against accepting full responsibility for their
dreams. Haffner[32] says (p. 24): “We are not responsible for dreams
because the basis upon which alone our life has truth and reality is
removed from our thoughts.... Hence there can be no dream wishing and
dream acting, no virtue or sin.” Still the person is responsible for the
sinful dream in so far as he brings it about indirectly. Just as in the
waking state, it is his duty to cleanse his moral mind, particularly so
before retiring to sleep.
The analysis of this mixture of rejection and recognition of
responsibility for the moral content of the dream is followed much
further by Hildebrandt. After specifying that the dramatic manner of
representation in the dream, the crowding together of the most
complicated processes of deliberation in the briefest period of time,
and the depreciation and the confusion of the presentation elements in
the dream admitted by him must be recognised as unfavourable to the
immoral aspect of dreams; he nevertheless confesses that, yielding to
the most earnest reflection, he is inclined simply to deny all
responsibility for faults and dream sins.
(P. 49): “If we wish to reject very decisively any unjust accusation,
especially one that has reference to our intentions and convictions, we
naturally make use of the expression: I should never have dreamed of
such a thing. By this we mean to say, of course, that we consider the
realm of the dream the last and remotest place in which we are to be
held responsible for our thoughts, because there these thoughts are only
loosely and incoherently connected with our real being, so that we
should hardly still consider them as our own; but as we feel impelled
expressly to deny the existence of such thoughts, even in this realm, we
thus at the same time indirectly admit that our justification will not
be complete if it does not reach to that point. And I believe that,
though unconsciously, we here speak the language of truth.”
(P. 52): “No dream thought can be imagined whose first motive has not
already moved through the mind while awake as some wish, desire, or
impulse.” Concerning this original impulse we must say that the dream
has not discovered it—it has only imitated and extended it, it has only
elaborated a bit of historical material which it has found in us, into
dramatic form; it enacts the words of the apostle: He who hates his
brother is a murderer. And whereas, after we awaken and become conscious
of our moral strength, we may smile at the boldly executed structure of
the depraved dream, the original formative material, nevertheless, has
no ridiculous side. One feels responsible for the transgressions of the
dreamer, not for the whole sum, but still for a certain percentage. “In
this sense, which is difficult to impugn, we understand the words of
Christ: Out of the heart come evil thoughts—for we can hardly help being
convinced that every sin committed in the dream brings with it at least
a vague minimum of guilt.”
Hildebrandt thus finds the source of the immorality of dreams in the
germs and indications of evil impulses which pass through our minds
during the day as tempting thoughts, and he sees fit to add these
immoral elements to the moral estimation of the personality. It is the
same thoughts and the same estimation of these thoughts, which, as we
know, have caused devout and holy men of all times to lament that they
are evil sinners.
There is certainly no reason to doubt the general occurrence of these
contrasting presentations—in most men and even also in other than
ethical spheres. The judgment of these at times has not been very
earnest. In Spitta[64] we find the following relevant expression from A.
Zeller (Article “Irre” in the _Allgemeinen Encyklopädie der
Wissenschaften_ of Ersch and Grüber, p. 144): “The mind is rarely so
happily organised as to possess at all times power enough not to be
disturbed, not only by unessential but also by perfectly ridiculous
ideas running counter to the usual clear trend of thought; indeed, the
greatest thinkers have had cause to complain of this dreamlike
disturbing and painful rabble of ideas, as it destroys their profoundest
reflection and their most sacred and earnest mental work.”