The most original and most far-reaching attempt to explain the dream as

a special activity of the mind, which can freely display itself only in

the sleeping state, was the one undertaken by Scherner[58] in 1861.

Scherner’s book, written in a heavy and bombastic style, inspired by an

almost intoxicated enthusiasm for the subject, which must repel us

unless it can carry us away with it, places so many difficulties in the

way of an analysis that we gladly resort to the clearer and shorter

description in which the philosopher Volkelt[72] presents Scherner’s

theories: “From the mystic conglomerations and from all the gorgeous and

magnificent billows there indeed flashes and irradiates an ominous light

of sense, but the path of the philosopher does not thereby become

clearer.” Such is the criticism of Scherner’s description from one of

his own adherents.

Scherner does not belong to those authors who allow the mind to take

along its undiminished capacities into the dream life. He indeed

explains how in the dream the centrality and the spontaneous energy of

the ego are enervated, how cognition, feeling, will, and imagination

become changed through this decentralisation, and how no true mental

character, but only the nature of a mechanism, belongs to the remnants

of these psychic forces. But instead, the activity of the mind

designated as phantasy, freed from all rational domination and hence

completely uncontrolled, rises in the dream to absolute supremacy. To be

sure, it takes the last building stones from the memory of the waking

state, but it builds with them constructions as different from the

structures of the waking state as day and night. It shows itself in the

dream not only reproductive, but productive. Its peculiarities give to

the dream life its strange character. It shows a preference for the

unlimited, exaggerated, and prodigious, but because freed from the

impeding thought categories, it gains a greater flexibility and agility

and new pleasure; it is extremely sensitive to the delicate emotional

stimuli of the mind and to the agitating affects, and it rapidly recasts

the inner life into the outer plastic clearness. The dream phantasy

lacks the language of ideas; what it wishes to say, it must clearly

depict; and as the idea now acts strongly, it depicts it with the

richness, force, and immensity of the mode in question. Its language,

however simple it may be, thus becomes circumstantial, cumbersome, and

heavy. Clearness of language is rendered especially difficult by the

fact that it shows a dislike for expressing an object by its own

picture, but prefers a strange picture, if the latter can only express

that moment of the object which it wishes to describe. This is the

symbolising activity of the phantasy.... It is, moreover, of great

significance that the dream phantasy copies objects not in detail, but

only in outline and even this in the broadest manner. Its paintings,

therefore, appear ingeniously light and graceful. The dream phantasy,

however, does not stop at the mere representation of the object, but is

impelled from within to mingle with the object more or less of the dream

ego, and in this way to produce an action. The visual dream, _e.g._,

depicts gold coins in the street; the dreamer picks them up, rejoices,

and carries them away.

According to Scherner, the material upon which the dream phantasy exerts

its artistic activity is preponderately that of the organic sensory

stimuli which are so obscure during the day (comp. p. 29); hence the

phantastic theory of Scherner, and the perhaps over-sober theories of

Wundt and other physiologists, though otherwise diametrically opposed,

agree perfectly in their assumption of the dream sources and dream

excitants. But whereas, according to the physiological theory, the

psychic reaction to the inner physical stimuli becomes exhausted with

the awakening of any ideas suitable to these stimuli, these ideas then

by way of association calling to their aid other ideas, and with this

stage the chain of psychic processes seeming to terminate according to

Scherner, the physical stimuli only supply the psychic force with a

material which it may render subservient to its phantastic intentions.

For Scherner the formation of the dream only commences where in the

conception of others it comes to an end.

The treatment of the physical stimuli by the dream phantasy surely

cannot be considered purposeful. The phantasy plays a tantalising game

with them, and represents the organic source which gives origin to the

stimuli in the correspondent dream, in any plastic symbolism. Indeed

Scherner holds the opinion, not shared by Volkelt and others, that the

dream phantasy has a certain favourite representation for the entire

organism; this representation would be the _house_. Fortunately,

however, it does not seem to limit itself in its presentation to this

material; it may also conversely employ a whole series of houses to

designate a single organ, _e.g._, very long rows of houses for the

intestinal excitation. On other occasions particular parts of the house

actually represent particular parts of the body, as _e.g._, in the

headache-dream, the ceiling of the room (which the dream sees covered

with disgusting reptile-like spiders) represents the head.

Quite irrespective of the house symbolism, any other suitable object may

be employed for the representation of these parts of the body which

excite the dream. “Thus the breathing lungs find their symbol in the

flaming stove with its gaseous roaring, the heart in hollow boxes and

baskets, the bladder in round, bag-shaped, or simply hollowed objects.

The male dream of sexual excitement makes the dreamer find in the street

the upper portion of a clarinette, next to it the same part of a tobacco

pipe, and next to that a piece of fur. The clarinette and tobacco pipe

represent the approximate shape of the male sexual organ, while the fur

represents the pubic hair. In the female sexual dream the tightness of

the closely approximated thighs may be symbolised by a narrow courtyard

surrounded by houses, and the vagina by a very narrow, slippery and soft

footpath, leading through the courtyard, upon which the dreamer is

obliged to walk, in order perhaps to carry a letter to a gentleman”

(Volkelt, p. 39). It is particularly noteworthy that at the end of such

a physically exciting dream, the phantasy, as it were, unmasks by

representing the exciting organ or its function unconcealed. Thus the

“tooth-exciting dream” usually ends with the dreamer taking a tooth out

of his mouth.

The dream phantasy may, however, not only direct its attention to the

shape of the exciting organ, but it may also make the substance

contained therein the object of the symbolisation. Thus the dream of

intestinal excitement, _e.g._, may lead us through muddy streets, the

bladder-exciting dream to foaming water. Or the stimulus itself, the

manner of its excitation, and the object it covets, are represented

symbolically, or the dream ego enters into a concrete combination with

the symbolisation of its own state, as _e.g._, when, in the case of

painful stimuli, we struggle desperately with vicious dogs or raging

bulls, or when in the sexual dream the dreamer sees herself pursued by a

naked man. Disregarding all the possible prolixity of elaboration, a

symbolising phantastic activity remains as the central force of every

dream. Volkelt,[72] in his finely and fervently written book, next

attempted to penetrate further into the character of this phantasy and

to assign to the psychical activity thus recognised, its position in a

system of philosophical ideas, which, however, remains altogether too

difficult of comprehension for any one who is not prepared by previous

schooling for the sympathetic comprehension of philosophical modes of

thinking.

Scherner connects no useful function with the activity of the

symbolising phantasy in dreams. In the dream the psyche plays with the

stimuli at its disposal. One might presume that it plays in an improper

manner. One might also ask us whether our thorough study of Scherner’s

dream theory, the arbitrariness and deviation of which from the rules of

all investigation are only too obvious, can lead to any useful results.

It would then be proper for us to forestall the rejection of Scherner’s

theory without examination by saying that this would be too arrogant.

This theory is built up on the impression received from his dreams by a

man who paid great attention to them, and who would appear to be

personally very well fitted to trace obscure psychic occurrences.

Furthermore it treats a subject which, for thousands of years, has

appeared mysterious to humanity though rich in its contents and

relations; and for the elucidation of which stern science, as it

confesses itself, has contributed nothing beyond attempting, in entire

opposition to popular sentiment, to deny the substance and significance

of the object. Finally, let us frankly admit that apparently we cannot

avoid the phantastical in our attempts to elucidate the dream. There are

also phantastic ganglia cells; the passage cited on p. 63 from a sober

and exact investigator like Binz,[4] which depicts how the aurora of

awakening flows along the dormant cell masses of the cerebrum, is not

inferior in fancifulness and in improbability to Scherner’s attempts at

interpretation. I hope to be able to demonstrate that there is something

actual underlying the latter, though it has only been indistinctly

observed and does not possess the character of universality entitling it

to the claim of a dream theory. For the present, Scherner’s theory of

the dream, in its contrast to the medical theory, may perhaps lead us to

realise between what extremes the explanation of dream life is still

unsteadily vacillating.

(_h_) _Relations between the Dream and Mental Diseases._—When we speak

of the relation of the dream to mental disturbances, we may think of

three different things: (1) Etiological and clinical relations, as when

a dream represents or initiates a psychotic condition, or when it leaves

such a condition behind it. (2) Changes to which the dream life is

subjected in mental diseases. (3) Inner relations between the dream and

the psychoses, analogies indicating an intimate relationship. These

manifold relations between the two series of phenomena have been a

favourite theme of medical authors in the earlier periods of medical

science—and again in recent times—as we learn from the literature on the

subject gathered from Spitta,[64] Radestock,[54] Maury,[48] and

Tissié.[68] Sante de Sanctis has lately directed his attention to this

relationship. For the purposes of our discussion it will suffice merely

to glance at this important subject.

In regard to the clinical and etiological relations between the dream

and the psychoses, I will report the following observations as

paradigms. Hohnbaum asserts (see Krauss, p. 39), that the first attack

of insanity frequently originates in an anxious and terrifying dream,

and that the ruling idea has connection with this dream. Sante de

Sanctis adduces similar observations in paranoiacs, and declares the

dream to be, in some of them, the “vraie cause déterminante de la

folie.” The psychosis may come to life all of a sudden with the dream

causing and containing the explanation for the mental disturbances, or

it may slowly develop through further dreams that have yet to struggle

against doubt. In one of de Sanctis’s cases, the affecting dream was

accompanied by light hysterical attacks, which in their turn were

followed by an anxious, melancholic state. Féré (cited by Tissié) refers

to a dream which caused an hysterical paralysis. Here the dream is

offered us as an etiology of mental disturbance, though we equally

consider the prevailing conditions when we declare that the mental

disturbance shows its first manifestation in dream life, that it has its

first outbreak in the dream. In other instances the dream life contained

the morbid symptoms, or the psychosis was limited to the dream life.

Thus Thomayer[70] calls attention to anxiety dreams which must be

conceived as equivalent to epileptic attacks. Allison has described

nocturnal insanity (cited by Radestock), in which the subjects are

apparently perfectly well in the day-time, while hallucinations, fits of

frenzy, and the like regularly appear at night. De Sanctis and Tissié

report similar observations (paranoiac dream-equivalent in an alcoholic,

voices accusing a wife of infidelity). Tissié reports abundant

observations from recent times in which actions of a pathological

character (based on delusions, obsessive impulses) had their origin in

dreams. Guislain describes a case in which sleep was replaced by an

intermittent insanity.

There is hardly any doubt that along with the psychology of the dream,

the physician will one day occupy himself with the psychopathology of

the dream.

In cases of convalescence from insanity, it is often especially obvious

that, while the functions of the day are normal, the dream life may

still belong to the psychosis. Gregory is said first to have called

attention to such cases (cited by Krauss[39]). Macario (reported by

Tissié) gives account of a maniac who, a week after his complete

recovery again experienced in dreams the flight of ideas and the

passionate impulses of his disease.

Concerning the changes to which the dream life is subjected in chronic

psychotic persons, very few investigations have so far been made. On the

other hand, timely attention has been called to the inner relationship

between the dream and mental disturbance, which shows itself in an

extensive agreement of the manifestations occurring to both. According

to Maury,[47] Cubanis, in his _Rapports du physique et du moral_, first

called attention to this; following him came Lelut, J. Moreau, and more

particularly the philosopher Maine de Biran. To be sure, the comparison

is still older. Radestock[54] begins the chapter dealing with this

comparison, by giving a collection of expressions showing the analogy

between the dream and insanity. Kant somewhere says: “The lunatic is a

dreamer in the waking state.” According to Krauss “Insanity is a dream

with the senses awake.” Schopenhauer terms the dream a short insanity,

and insanity a long dream. Hagen describes the delirium as dream life

which has not been caused by sleep but by disease. Wundt, in the

_Physiological Psychology_, declares: “As a matter of fact we may in the

dream ourselves live through almost all symptoms which we meet in the

insane asylums.”

The specific agreements, on the basis of which such an identification

commends itself to the understanding, are enumerated by Spitta.[64] And

indeed, very similarly, by Maury in the following grouping: “(1)

Suspension or at least retardation, of self-consciousness, consequent

ignorance of the condition as such, and hence incapability of

astonishment and lack of moral consciousness. (2) Modified perception of

the sensory organs; that is, perception is diminished in the dream and

generally enhanced in insanity. (3) Combination of ideas with each other

exclusively in accordance with the laws of association and of

reproduction, hence automatic formation of groups and for this reason

disproportion in the relations between ideas (exaggerations, phantasms).

And as a result of all this: (4) Changing or transformation of the

personality and at times of the peculiarities of character

(perversities).”

Radestock gives some additional features or analogies in the material:

“Most hallucinations and illusions are found in the sphere of the senses

of sight and hearing and general sensation. As in the dream, the

smallest number of elements is supplied by the senses of smell and

taste. The fever patient, like the dreamer, is assaulted by

reminiscences from the remote past; what the waking and healthy man

seems to have forgotten is recollected in sleep and in disease.” The

analogy between the dream and the psychosis receives its full value only

when, like a family resemblance, it is extended to the finer mimicry and

to the individual peculiarities of facial expression.

“To him who is tortured by physical and mental sufferings the dream

accords what has been denied him by reality, to wit, physical well-being

and happiness; so the insane, too, see the bright pictures of happiness,

greatness, sublimity, and riches. The supposed possession of estates and

the imaginary fulfilment of wishes, the denial or destruction of which

have just served as a psychic cause of the insanity, often form the main

content of the delirium. The woman who has lost a dearly beloved child,

in her delirium experiences maternal joys; the man who has suffered

reverses of fortune deems himself immensely wealthy; and the jilted girl

pictures herself in the bliss of tender love.”

The above passage from Radestock, an abstract of a keen discussion of

Griesinger[31] (p. 111), reveals with the greatest clearness the wish

fulfilment as a characteristic of the imagination, common to the dream

and the psychosis. (My own investigations have taught me that here the

key to a psychological theory of the dream and of the psychosis is to be

found.)

“Absurd combinations of ideas and weakness of judgment are the main

characteristics of the dream and of insanity.” The over-estimation of

one’s own mental capacity, which appears absurd to sober judgment, is

found alike both in one and the other, and the rapid course of ideas in

the dream corresponds to the flight of ideas in the psychosis. Both are

devoid of any measure of time. The dissociation of personality in the

dream, which, for instance, distributes one’s own knowledge between two

persons, one of whom, the strange one, corrects in the dream one’s own

ego, fully corresponds to the well-known splitting of personality in

hallucinatory paranoia; the dreamer, too, hears his own thoughts

expressed by strange voices. Even the constant delusions find their

analogy in the stereotyped recurring pathological dreams (_rêve

obsédant_). After recovering from a delirium, patients not infrequently

declare that the disease appeared to them like an uncomfortable dream;

indeed, they inform us that occasionally, even during the course of

their sickness, they have felt that they were only dreaming, just as it

frequently happens in the sleeping dream.

Considering all this, it is not surprising that Radestock condenses his

own opinion and that of many others into the following: “Insanity, an

abnormal phenomenon of disease, is to be regarded as an enhancement of

the periodically recurring normal dream states” (p. 228).

Krauss[39] attempted to base the relationship between the dream and

insanity upon the etiology (or rather upon the exciting sources),

perhaps making the relationship even more intimate than was possible

through the analogy of the phenomena they manifest. According to him,

the fundamental element common to both is, as we have learned, the

organically determined sensation, the sensation of physical stimuli, the

general feeling produced by contributions from all the organs. _Cf._

Peise, cited by Maury[48] (p. 60).

The incontestable agreement between the dream and mental disturbance,

extending into characteristic details, constitutes one of the strongest

supports of the medical theory of dream life, according to which the

dream is represented as a useless and disturbing process and as the

expression of a reduced psychic activity. One cannot expect, however, to

derive the final explanation of the dream from the mental disturbances,

as it is generally known in what unsatisfactory state our understanding

of the origin of the latter remains. It is very probably, however, that

a modified conception of the dream must also influence our views in

regard to the inner mechanism of mental disturbances, and hence we may

say that we are engaged in the elucidation of the psychosis when we

endeavour to clear up the mystery of the dream.

I shall have to justify myself for not extending my summary of the

literature of the dream problems over the period between the first

appearance of this book and its second edition. If this justification

may not seem very satisfactory to the reader, I was nevertheless

influenced by it. The motives which mainly induced me to summarise the

treatment of the dream in the literature have been exhausted with the

foregoing introduction; to have continued with this work would have cost

me extraordinary effort and would have afforded little advantage or

knowledge. For the period of nine years referred to has yielded nothing

new or valuable either for the conception of the dream in actual

material or in points of view. In most of the publications that have

since appeared my work has remained unmentioned and unregarded;

naturally least attention has been bestowed upon it by the so-called

“investigators of dreams,” who have thus afforded a splendid example of

the aversion characteristic of scientific men to learning something new.

“Les savants ne sont pas curieux,” said the scoffer Anatole France. If

there were such a thing in science as right to revenge, I in turn should

be justified in ignoring the literature since the appearance of this

book. The few accounts that have appeared in scientific journals are so

full of folly and misconception that my only possible answer to my

critics would be to request them to read this book over again. Perhaps

also the request should be that they read it as a whole.

In the works of those physicians who make use of the psychoanalytic

method of treatment (Jung, Abraham, Riklin, Muthmann, Stekel, Rank, and

others), an abundance of dreams have been reported and interpreted in

accordance with my instructions. In so far as these works go beyond the

confirmation of my assertions I have noted their results in the context

of my discussion. A supplement to the literary index at the end of this

book brings together the most important of these new publications. The

voluminous book on the dream by Sante de Sanctis, of which a German

translation appeared soon after its publication, has, so to speak,

crossed with mine, so that I could take as little notice of him as the

Italian author could of me. Unfortunately, I am further obliged to

declare that this laborious work is exceedingly poor in ideas, so poor

that one could never divine from it the existence of the problems

treated by me.

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