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Nervous and Mental Disease Monograph Series No. 22 








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Introduction i 

Example of a Dream Analysis 6 

The Analysis 1 1 

Signification of the Manifest Dream Content i6 

The Dream in its Psychic Environment 23 

Types of Dreams 29 

Tendencies of Vienna and Zurich Schools in Psycho- 
analysis » 36 

iX/ti^ (/jU i^^'UM V 

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The reason for the choice of this theme as the principal sub- 
ject of discussion at to-day's meeting is a publication of mine on 
the same subject, which has called forth opposition, especially in 
the circle of our Vienna colleagues. As I had the distinct im- 
pression that I was misunderstood, I gladly seized the opportunity 
to speak on the question to-day. There were in my opinion two 
principal reasons for the misunderstanding. The first reason is, 
presumably, that I did not succeed in expressing myself clearly 
in what I had to say on the subject. The work which appeared 
a year ago in the "Jahrbuch" had been written two and a half 
years ago, at a time when the problem was not very familiar to 
me. The second important reason for my being misunderstood 
lies in the fact that the point of view therein given discovers a 
new field of thought in psychoanalysis, with which we must be- 
come acquainted. This new field is not an individual discovery, 
for it is also to be found in the works of the last few years, espe- 
cially in those by Jung, Riklin, Silberer and, in some respects, 
in those by Adler and others. I consider it extremely important 
for us all that we should have opportunity to debate together, and 
publicly, these questions that so" greatly occupy us; the more so 
as I have the conviction that no real or necessary differences 
exist between us, for what we of the Ziirich school have accom- 
plished is a natural outcome of what Freud gave us. The new 
field of which I spoke just now is analogous to the new view 
which opens before the wanderer when he reaches a turning of 
his road. Before I touch my theme, let me remark that the ex- 

1 A paper read at the Congress of the Psychoanal3i;ical Society at 
Munich, September, 1913. Jahrbuch fiir Psychoanalyse und psycho- 
analytische Forschungen, 1914. 


planations I give to-day are not an official presentation of the 
Zurich point of view, but only expressions of personal conviction 
and point of view. Still, they are suited, I hope, to show existing 
differences in opinion. 

In this paper, here offered for discussion, I have assumed 
two chief functions of the dream: the cathartic and the preparing 
function. In my talk to-day, I shall confine myself to the second 
function, as the most important and the most disputed. My 
erstwhile formula must be changed, since I have recognized that 
the functions mentioned hold good, not only for the dream, but 
for almost all products of unconscious activity (such as day phan- 
tasies, works of art, play, visions, etc.). They are functions of 
the unconscious itself, which in these phenomena arrive at expres- 
sion. It will be the task of later workers to furnish the reason 
for the connection between these phenomena. Furthermore, you 
will recall that Freud has seen ahead here as in all other fields, in 
that he has put on record the axiom that neurotic symptoms must 
be regarded as " unsuccessful attempts at cure." Among these dif- 
ferent elaborations of the unconscious functions, the dream 
assumes a peculiar place, in that it is at work every night. It is a 
modest servant who performs his task in silence. It seeks for a 
satisfying formula for the unconscious condition, and strives for 
its expression. This dream work can exercise a really liberating 
action which betrays a close relationship to work of art. Various 
authors have already drawn attention to this. Rank among others. 
But in the formulae to date, the chief stress has been laid upon 
the cathartic action, on the unloading of the emotion, whilst, in 
my opinion, the overcoming of the conflict, the real freeing by 
means of sublimation, is the chief function of the work of art, 
Mensendieck, to whom we owe valuable, but unfortunately not 
yet published researches in this field, will illuminate this problem 
for you in detail in his lecture on Wagner — "The Prospective 
Tendency of the Unconscious in Wagner's first Drama and in 

2 This lecture was given at the same Congress in Munich- 


The artist seeks in his work the solution of his actual conflict 
or, rather, he realizes in it the solution of his personal life prob- 
lem. There is at stake a long attempt, which stretches over all 
his work, and in which only the fewest succeed even approxi- 
mately. On a more modest scale, and in quite different propor- 
tions the dream seeks to do the same for every man. A work of 
art carries out a social function in that it serves as a model, by 
virtue of its high spiritual elaboration, whilst the dream has to 
content itself with the role of a purely individual means of expres- 
sion, which, nevertheless, is yet a very important role. The use 
made of dreams in the ancient religions is for us a premonition 
of the connections in which it is now really recognized. 

The following sentence, taken from Horneffer's work "The 
Priest," will clearly illustrate this point : " The sick Greeks, who 
made pilgrimages to the temple of yEsculapius, in order to 
undergo the temple sleep, did not want to know what had caused 
their sickness, but hoped to come in contact with the holy ^Escu- 
lapias in the dream and to receive from him directions for the 
treatment to be followed in order to effect a cure." 

The liberating function of the dream is here expressed as a 
hint from God in the so-called mythical phase of realization ; the 
dream itself is considered by me as a part of the curative process. 
You will permit me to remind you of the keen saying of Hebbel 
on this same point. It is: "This I know; such dreams one 
should not despise. I fancy it to be this way: when man lies 
asleep, relaxed, no longer held together by self-consciousness, a 
feeling of the future crowds out all thoughts and pictures of the 
present, and those things which are to come glide like shadows 
through the soul, preparing, warning, comforting. This is why 
so seldom, or not at all, anything really surprises us, and why we 
have long and confidently hoped for the good, and trembled 
involuntarily before every evil." 

From our special point of view there exist two categories oi 
artists : those who reflect a sort of mirrored image and expression 


of the spirit of their time, and another more valuable class who 
are the fighting pioneers and liberators of mankind; those who 
truly carry the prospective function of mankind. Works of art 
accordingly aflfect mankind differently, relieving or liberating as 
has been said before, according to the prevalence of prospective 
or retrospective fixation. About the same may be said of dreams 
and their effect upon the individual; but the differences concern 
not only the separate persons, but also phases of the personal 
development of the individual. I shall demonstrate this asser- 
tion by examples later on. In this regard a man's series of 
dreams prove very valuable, as they represent a gradual devel- 
opment of the current ethical conflict. We possess such a series 
of dreams given by Rosegger, which will be considered later on, 
and which shows clearly the value of a consideration of the 
dream problem in a larger connection. To Mensendieck we owe 
parallel researches into a series of works of art by the same poet 
(Hebbel, Wagner, etc.) which show a very similar result. These 
writings can actually be regarded as disindividualized and ob- 
jectified milestones in the course of their author's development. 
From the proposal of true definitions (to be explained later) 
it is at once apparent according to my conception, that the axiom 
of the dream as a wish fulfilment is, too indefinite and espe- 
cially too one-sided, for it actually fails to embrace the important 
teleological side of the unconscious function. I regard the dream 
as a means of expression of the unconscious, as a true language. 
This dream speech is a " translation " of the worked up material 
of the unconscious, for the benefit of the conscious. By virtue 
of the special "permeability of the psychic diaphragm" in the 
sleeping state, this messenger, or better, this interpreter pene- 
trates from the unconscious sphere into the conscious. This 
function of expression must be defined in greater detail. Dreams 
give autosymbolic representations of the actual condition of the 
libido, which are transmitted to the consciousness. The latter, 
as Freud has shown, acts merely as the " percepting " organ. The 



unconscious strives in the dream for adequate expression, I said; 
thereby a relation between the two autonomous psychic appara- 
tuses is established. The unconscious utilizes many other means 
of expression for the same purpose : play, day phantasies, works 
of art, visions, neurotic symptoms, failures. Failure of accom- 
plishment reveals rather that directly represents the unconscious, 
like the dream, which owing to its complicated structure possesses 
a special meaning. The relation of the dream to the work of art 
has already been emphasized and this idea, by the way, has already 
been formulated repeatedly, by Rank among others. I think the 
immediate future will shed more light on just this point. 

We owe valuable data on this problem to those artists who 
have expressed themselves on the technique of their creations. 
C. Spitteler's contributions give us a very valuable affirmation of 
the close relation between the configuration of dreams and the 
production of works of art. Dream analyses have given me 
repeatedly the impression that genuine artistic talents lie latent 
in all men, of which only little reaches manifestation. Freud has 
laid down the axiom that the dream is the royal road which leads 
into the unconscious. The previously mentioned definition of 
the dream as an autosymbolic representation of the actual con- 
dition of the libido fits very well with this. The mechanism 
known under the formula " mindfulness of the presentable " and 
which Bleuler has hesitated to accept, is therefore entitled to very 
special attention. The prevalence of visual material in the dream- 
structure is connected with the representability of the dream, 
therefore also with the expression-function of the dream in the 
psychic menage. 

After these introductory remarks, I shall now go on to my 
actual task, to demonstrate by means of a detailed dream analysis 
the ideas and formulas presented. This will give me opportunity 
to raise several other points, for instance, the significance of the 
manifest dream content for the interpretation of the dream, 
the relation of the dream to its psychic environment, also the 


polyvalence of symbols and the meaning of the prospective direc- 
tion in the analysis. Also by means of a dream analysis I shall 
try to give a parallel between the interpretation of Freud 
and his immediate pupils, as distinct from our own school, which 
will give occasion for a defining of our mutual positions. 
I begin with a dream analysis : 

Example of a Dream Analysis 
Report Necessary to the Analysis. — The dreamer is a youth 
of i8; he comes of a good family, of old stock which possesses, 
however, numerous neurotic features. He grew up between a 
father who was severe and violent in his demands, but, who taken 
altogether was quite lovable, and a mother who is gentle, yielding, 
sensitive, and cultured. As a boy he learned to avoid his father 
very skilfully, and to escape from the responsibilities of life; in 
the latter process he abused a natural gift for winning the affec- 
tion of others. So he succeeded in being his own master, by 
allowing his own desires and moods and interests to dominate his 
life. Gradually tremendous gaps were noticed in his develop- 
ment. There followed a chasing from one school to another. 
After some years the youth emerged from these circumstances, 
quite unimproved and extraordinarily ignorant. Psychoanalytic 
treatment was then begun, side by side with suitable teaching and 
education. Gradually the youth began to tackle this accumulated 
load of studies ; after two years he was able to do a good piece 
of work in proper time. The dream analyzed later belongs to a 
time during the analysis when the youth had overcome the worst 
difficulties and the severest conflicts. In the patient's own writ- 
ten account the dream runs as follows : 

" / was with M. [sister of the dreamer] in the hall of a swim- 
ming bath. Only one gentleman and one lady were swimming 
there. I wanted to swim also with M. But as the hall was in a 
wrecked condition, I believed that no one was officially permitted 
to swim there. We succeeded, after some difficulty, in getting 
into the water which was at first very cold, I believe, but after- 


wards it seemed warm to me, anyway, I was not at all cold later. 
With a bicycle, we then rode further, to the lake {in Ziirich], 
where we met O. and a man on horseback in a green uniform. 
He rode on a horse that had a beautiful blue coat. Before he 
came to the bridge he dismounted and showed the left foreleg of 
the blue horse to a boy, who suddenly appeared. Afterwards 
some gentleman spoke to us about Dr. D. and spoke of a check 
number which he had taken by mistake. I then offered to take it 
with me [to the doctor who lived in a higher part of the town] 
but he said he had already arranged something with his sister." 
I woke up many times in between and was rather cross at not 
yet having dreamed anything. It was only after I was really 
awake that I noticed that I had been dreaming. I had paper and 
pencil under my pillow. 

Associations. — ^According to the dreamer, the scene with the 
blue horse is the center of interest in the dream, the emotional 
interest is very strong here. (It is necessary to remark that the 
horse has much significance for the dreamer himself and for his 
whole environment.) I shall first take the boy's associations with 
the blue horse, and my own remarks are placed between brackets. 

The blue horse is the color of the ice bird. There are no 
such horses. Monkeys have that color at the buttocks [he laughs] 
or in their faces. It was not beautiful ! [strong affect] Miss von 
X. loves blue above all other colors [see below who is Miss von 
X.] Blue blood. [The dreamer as well as Miss von X. is of 
noble lineage.] Last evening we had a discussion on co-educa- 
tion ; it was related how girls act as magnets for the boys in an 
institute where the sexes are mixed; I wished to dream that 
night [in order to get material for the psychoanalysis]. Just now 
I suddenly think of " Harringa " or " Hanaschia," I don't know 
why. Oh yes, "Harringa" is bound in blue [He refers to the 
celebrated novel by Poppert which he had read with great in- 
terest] but that is a different blue. The other name was not 


Harraschid, but Harun-al-Raschid, now I know, about A.D. 800, 
a splendid name isn't it? [the dreamer relates the contents of 
the novel as follows, and in answer to a question which I put to 
him at the end of the association work: The hero is a young 
student who, whilst drunk, goes to a brothel where he contracts 
a venereal disease and after many difficulties commits suicide by 
drowning. Harun-al-Raschid is the favorite hero of the 
dreamer's mother. He was an important Kaliph, who hved 
about A.D. 800, contemporary with Charlemagne. The youth 
shares his mother's admiration — splendid name!] Now I think 
of Y [a comrade] , who refers everything to the sexual, he is sup- 
posed to have a sexual disease. I was so pleased with the dream. 
[He seldom dreams.] Yesterday I masturbated and did not want 
to tell of it." 

I take the second chain of associations from the officer in the 
green uniform — " Mr. von X. [father of Miss von X.] in his 
uniform, he is in excellent circumstances, like a king in his king- 
dom, he rules supreme and drives splendidly. He was my model 
for a long time. I would also like to belong to a [military] regi- 
ment of hunters — then one has a green uniform. Now I think 
of the green meadow where I took an air bath ; it was during a 
walk with Miss v. X. ; she had wished to see me so. We had been 
permitted to go on a trip alone for one day and a half. We 
managed all sorts of things. We slept together in the hotel ; we 
had a bad conscience; we feared we had betrayed ourselves. I 
was to give a wrong name, L. von X., so that we might not be 
taken for lovers [the lady was 12 years older than he ; as a matter 
of fact there was a liaison between them for some time]. The 
conditions at the hotel were unfavorable." 

The third series of associations I take from the incident 
where the rider points to the left fore leg of the horse. It is 
worthy of remark that the youth makes a mistake here and says 
the right leg. He becomes thoughtful and says, finally, " No, it 
is the left." We shall learn later on the reason for this mistake. 


"The officer lifts the horse's leg and examines it. One of our 
own horses is lame just now in the left fore leg. I would much 
like to be at home just now. I am actually homesick, I have a 
longing for the North, but I have to stay here and work. I don't 
like the teacher S., one makes slow progress with him. I have 
lately been lazy, have lost much time, am discontented. I lack 
strenuousness just now. A while ago, when I spoke of the night 
in the hotel, I kept back something, but I must tell it. I was 
particularly excited that night. Miss von X, had wished me to 
drink white wine, which I never do as a rule, but I did it in the 
end. I wasn't tipsy, but I was very much excited [which caused 
him much difficulty at that time]. I know from this how dan- 
gerous it is to drink, since then I have decided to give up drink. 
[Please recall the contents of the novel by Poppert — in the first 
series of associations]. I still remember our conversations [with 
me] on the alcohol problem." 

The following series is derived from the boy who appeared 
in the dream : " The boy is Karl, our stable boy. He likes to 
drink, he is a sullen fellow; he has several times made for me 
with the long whip when he was drunk. Now here is a child- 
hood memory which I think I have never told. It was when I 
was a little fellow in my bath. I was sexually excited; mother 
was there. I told her the organ was so queer and hard, I wanted 
her to look at it. I think of the boy again ; once he threatened 
me with his sword, because I had tattled about his behavior. He 
hit me with the flat of his sword, I was very mad, defended my- 
self and threw a big flat iron on his feet; there was also a very 
ugly laundress at our place. [After a pause] A few days ago, 
during lessons, I suddenly felt a severe pain in the left ear. At 
once I had the idea, the teacher is going to give me a box on the 
ear. [But — nothing was the matter, the lesson was quite peace- 
ful, this particular master had never punished him.] I thought 
I must defend myself." [The youth here motioned with his 
hand to one side, till he remembered that we were dealing with 


an entirely intra-psychic matter. It was with him a typical ex- 
pression of his expectation of being badly treated by his father ; 
an expectation that is especially active at times when he has not 
done his duty. See the third series of associations.] 

Now we start a series of associations with Otto, with whom 
the dreamer has a conversation. 

"O. related the other day having been with three students, 
that they had been drinking and had kept on talking from 9 P. M. 
to 3 A. M. about women. One of them had spoken on the sub- 
ject in four different languages. I was unpleasantly surprised, 
as I had thought O. to be very abstemious. He told what diffi- 
culty Dr. D. had with his dietetics and of a protest made, quite 
unjustifiably, by the students against a professor. I like best the 
German spoken by the Hannoverians. I don't like the Swiss 
dialect. The new bathing master told me at once that I must be 
from the North, he noticed it in my speech. That pleased me." 
[The conflict between north and south has an individual psycho- 
logical meaning for our young man. North is for him that which 
is the correct, controlled element in himself, which he values, 
while south is for him the meaner element of letting himself go.] 

From the conversation about Dr. D. we get the following as- 
sociations : 

"The opposition Dr. D. has met with in the town, the fight 
against it. I again think of the students and their protest. It is 
quite remarkable that my leg has quite healed, doctor. I was 
quite surprised, it had been so bad. My sister, D., goes on the 
15th to a woman gynecologist. I have lately had a peculiar feel- 
ing, something that cuts, as if I had something in the lung, in an 
important place, as if something had been cut off in my chest, as 
if an axe were cutting inside me all by itself. How can I change 
it? What shall I do? Now it is done differently, but how? 
How shall I explain the wound?" [ the youth's wound is on the 
right leg, which explains the previous slip of the tongue ; he iden- 
tifies himself with the horse. He has a curious wound on the 


back of the foot, which always appears when he is in conflict, 
and which only heals at the times when he is psychically well. 
The magic lies in this, that during times when he is psychically 
ill, he keeps this foot, whilst at work, under the rung of the chair 
on which he is seated ; this sets up a persistent mechanical irrita- 
tion which will not allow the wound to heal. He now under- 
stands this and avoids sitting this way. But as he has not yet 
found the right outlet for his libido, he must continue to torture 
himself — symptom of the gathering libido — and for this reason 
we find the new substitute sensation of the cutting himself]. 

The conversation now takes up the check number. 

" It is the check number one receives in the waiting room of 
Dr. D. The other day a gentleman is supposed to have taken 
the number away with him by mistake. People are provided 
with numbers. I wonder how it is at G. ? [A school to which 
the dreamer is to go after he is cured.] I am better, but if I have 
a relapse, shall I be able to get through it alone ? Something still 
prevents me from overcoming the thing. Miss K. has not got as 
far as I thought; she is still too hesitating. Miss S. is in bad 
shape these days." [Two of my patients.] 

Now we shall associate the phrase " I offer to take the number 
back to Dr. D." 

"Out of poHteness [he is exceedingly courteous, partly as a 
covering], it represents an evil number; for instance my con- 
duct during the affair in the sleeping compartment of the train. 
[He refers to his indecision during a homosexual assault, when 
he yielded, although he had clearly understood the situation, and 
had urged himself to be firm this time.] R. [a school comrade, 
also homosexual, a bad number] Miss v. X. I am angry that I 
still think of her and dream of her often." 

The Analysis 
If we use the material, thus obtained, for interpretation, we 
find, in the first place, in the surface layer, on the objective level 
(to use Jung's excellent expression) the following: 


The blue horse is the beloved, who is already indicated by 
the first ideas that came in the association (the ice bird expresses 
her northern quality, the ape her sensuahty, which is further il- 
lustrated by other associations; her wish for the air bath and 
especially the wish for drink at the hotel). The horse repre- 
sents more — the girls who have a magnetic effect, the mother, 
whose sexual significance is brought out by the scene in the bath 
during childhood. 

The green officer, his model, is the dreamer himself, who 
rides the horse, his beloved, with whom he made the tour (ride) 
that time. A parallel to this is furnished by the first part of the 
dream : the forbidden bathing institute, which we have not consid- 
ered here as being altogether too long. His sister, who here re- 
places the beloved, is the one with whom he carried on most of 
his childish tricks and for whom he has a strong transference. 

The officer examines the horse with the boy. The latter is 
also identified with the dreamer, naturally as his meaner ego, the 
ignoble and unaristocratic in him (the south German). The 
youth has also been drinking on the tour, like the stable boy and 
the student in the story of Harringa. On this occasion the drink- 
ing nearly caused a misfortune (the already mentioned difficulty, 
the strong excitement). This identification helps us to under- 
stand why in the chain of associations about the stable boy there 
came up unexpectedly the memory of the seduction scene with 
his mother when he was in the bath. By the choice of this 
symbol the dreamer measures his own value, saying " I am also 
a low down fellow." 

The rider and the boy examine the injured fore leg of the 
horse. One has been riding the horse too hard. [After-thought 
of the dreamer.] The leg, as phallic symbol, is sufficiently de- 
termined by the student in the novel, who acquired a venereal 
disease whilst drunk, and also by the sexually diseased comrade — 
Y. In the same association, we have also the masturbation, 
against which our dreamer has been fighting in vain for some 


time. He suffers from his laxness, for, taking him all in all, he 
loves the strenuous and controlled. Latterly it has happened that 
during masturbation orgasm has not occurred. To all this be- 
longs also the complex concerning the wound in his own foot, 
which will not heal [a pretty parallel to the wound of Amfortas 
in " Parsifal"] and the strange sensation of cutting his own flesh. 

Accordingly, the dreamer is also identified with the horse (by 
means of the injured leg). And so we have arrived at the lower 
stratum, or what Jung calls the subjective-level. The horse be- 
comes a symbol of the libido; a symbol of his own libido. In 
this stratum, note well, all symbols refer to the dreamer himself, 
and they are to be regarded as personifications of the different 
tendencies of his psyche. What on the objective level was 
designated as the symbol of the beloved, becomes, on the subjec- 
tive level, a symbol of that libido which has a tendency towards 
the object (the tendency is symbolized by its goal!). 

This part of the dream tells us then: L. (the dreamer) has 
ridden too hard, something is not right with me, and must be 
looked into. A serious complaint (the legs of the horse, the vital 
organ in his chest, which hurts him). That is to say, insight is 
dawning on the mind of the dreamer. After external separation 
from the beloved, the youth remained in correspondence with her 
for over a year, therefore, he was still intensely bound up in her 
internally. Because of the analysis he feels impelled to break 
with her, as he gradually came to see — although merely intel- 
lectually — how harmful this adventure had been for his develop- 
ment (for mentally he was strikingly backward). Inwardly 
he was not willing at the time to break with her ; but he hid him- 
self and his opposition behind me, the scapegoat. This dream 
shows us a further step in the youth's development. His insight 
into his situation, the correct valuation of his adventure, becomes 
at the time of the dream emotional, not merely intellectual. This 
insight with the double character of intelligence and affect, is very 
significant and forms a cardinal point in the cure by analysis; 


for whoever possesses this insight is really acting on his own 
principles and conviction and thereby occupies a different rela- 
tion towards the analyses from at first. The physician is no 
longer one who asserts this or that ; something which one accepts 
or rejects, according to the predominance of the positive or nega- 
tive attitude, but he has become a leader who sees and points out 
what one carries in oneself and only recognizes with difficulty; 
the physician is now he who helps one to know oneself better 
and how to rule oneself. 

The insight of the youth does not tell merely that he is sick 
in his inner life, it says more : I employ my libido badly, I injure 
myself by using up so much libido on a lower level (the stable 
boy). The youth is at good times an extremity bright, nice, 
able fellow. This side of him suffers from the other side of his 
nature ; he longs for a regulation of his internal conditions, for a 
liberation of his soul. On the day after his dream, he told that a 
foreign word had persecuted him for some days, the meaning of 
which had quite escaped him — "chastete" (chastity). It is in 
fact this he longs for, with this he would recover the peace of his 
conscience, with this he would attain the valor of his ancestors — 
he who had for years muddled through one school after another 
and had almost been given up, even by his parents. 

In our own speech we would designate this longing of the 
youth as a tendency towards the domestication of his libido. 

The last part of the dream which deals with the conversation 
about the doctor and the number, is little plastic in its manifest 
content, and is poor also in its latent content. The reason, I con- 
sider, lies herein, that an entire side of the problem of the 
development of the libido in the youth is still untouched, he is 
not yet capable of clearly viewing the realization of the insight 
he has won, much less of bringing it to pass. 

Otto, with whom he is conversing, is in his ambivalence a 
clearly recognizable identification of the youth himself. He is. 


on the whole, a very serious youth, already a student who stands 
up against his colleagues for the professor (in the matter of the 
protest) , although he hstens to the talk about women. He speaks 
of Dr. D.'s difficulties, his fight in a good cause. Fighting is, in 
fact, the formula for the new life of our dreamer, after he has 
followed till now almost exclusively his own desires and inclina- 
tions. Dr. D. stands, for him, in the place of duty, demands, 
conscience; he also calls him, occasionally, his conscience. To 
him, whom he has so long feared and avoided, he will take back 
the number, which sounds decidedly conciliatory. Even if the 
motive is still, perhaps, actually to be called courtesy, a quite pro- 
gressive tendency is hinted at, as in the conversation about 
abstinence from alcohol. The evil number should be given up, 
renounce evil. Doubts still appear, "Will I be able to control 
myself unaided in the event of a relapse?" The occurrence of 
the symbol north in this connection strengthens the progressive 
tendency, for it signifies for him self control (contrast between 
the correct north German and the less self-controlled Bavarian). 

This imperfectly coordinated segment is for me a symbolic 
expression of the future and as yet insufficiently elaborated 
material. Of this I see a confirmation in the fact that the prin- 
cipal stress of the manifested dream is laid on the wonderfully 
beautiful blue color of the horse, by which, in my opinion, is ex- 
pressed how strongly the dream is bound up in the enjoyment 
principle, how great an attraction enjoyment still holds for him. 
This picture contains a valuation, which may serve as a standard 
for the dreamer's attitude. The task before the dreamer is the 
conquest of the kingdom in which the reality principle, to use 
Freud's excellent expression, reigns. We have already stated 
that this is a point of cardinal importance in the analysis. It is 
the lowest point reached in the analysis, and which also indicates 
at the same time the beginning of upward progress. 

Quite briefly, I shall point out two other parts of the dream 
analysis. The psychoanalyst does not appear merely as physi- 


cian, in the last part ; but also in the middle portion of the dream, 
namely, hidden behind the boy and probably also under the form 
of the officer. These two conduct the examination. The 
dreamer's identification with the boy, points to the negative side 
of the transference he feels towards his physician ; the physician 
takes the place of the father whom the dreamer fears, it is he who 
exacts, who is the cause of the break with the youth's beloved ; 
he is not noble (therefore common), not a north German (Swiss 
has for the dreamer the same significance as south German). 
But gradually the physician has become to the youth a model in 
some points, as was once the father of Miss von X. in some 
respects. Thus the dreamer identifies the two models. My final 
remark refers to the first part of the dream, which, however, I 
will not go into in detail, in order not to be too lengthy. This 
part of the dream contains essentially a pictured representation 
of the childhood and early youth of the dreamer, a time which 
was crowded with all sorts of tricks, mostly in company with the 
sister already mentioned. This part belongs necessarily to the 
gaining of the youth's insight, of which enough has been said; 
it completes the account of his life. I must add that the youth 
was advanced considerably through this analysis, and that he 
attacked the further solving of his problem with great earnestness. 

Significance of the Manifest Dream Content 

The analysis here presented shows that I attach a greater im- 
portance to the manifest dream content than Freud has done up 
to this time. I think Jung is of like opinion, but I have never 
spoken with him about it specially. I do not wish to place myself 
in opposition to Freud in this matter, but would regard this new 
point of view as a broadening out of the present interpretation. 
The opposition to the Freudian attitude takes the place of the 
teaching of the official psychologists, whom, for want of a better 
word, I shall call classical psychologists, and who recognize no 
psychic value whatever in the dream, and make no distinction 


between the manifest and latent dream content. Freud, on his 
discovery of the latent dream content, was obliged to lay the prin- 
cipal stress on this, to the detriment of the manifest content. 
The complementary or perfecting idea which I suggest to-day, is 
therefore to be regarded as a portion of the excursion described 
by all discoveries. The above indicated conception of the mani- 
fest dream content will in due time induce a revision and an 
extension of the idea of the " secondary dream work," which 
probably at present is stamped too deeply with the teaching about 
repression, and thus in my opinion places the manifest dream- 
content in too one-sided a light. 

From the example given, it is obvious that there exists a close 
connection between the latent and the manifest dream-content. 
This seems to me a distinct advantage for the synthetic concep- 
tion of the dream. The manifest dream-content, translated by 
means of the materials of the latent dream-content, grants us in 
a symbolical manner, a picture of the entire situation, or a course 
of development of the unconscious processes, the activity of the 

The assumption, made in the present dream analysis, that 
there exists a direct relation between the plastic-figurative or 
vaguely outlined manifest dream-content, and the clarified-mature 
or confused state of the unconscious conflict, has been confirmed 
in my analyses during the past months, so that I am inclined to 
assume that in the manifest dream-content we are dealing with 
intra-psychic perceptions and pictures of the unconscious situa- 
tion (according to Freudian terminology), or with auto-symbolic 
phenomena (according to Silberer). I would like to submit 
these points to my colleagues for investigation. The question of 
the appearance of disagreeable affects in dreams takes on a 
different aspect in my further interpretation of the manifest 
dream-content, from what it possesses when we accept " wish ful- 
fillment" as the basic dream formula. The affect is usually 
entirely adequate to the actual situation. It is well known that 


there are dreams that remain impressed upon the memory par- 
ticularly clearly, and are remembered for years. I have been 
able to prove repeatedly, that these pregnant dreams are the 
adequate expression of a clarified psychic situation. This prob- 
ably applies also to many so-called "typical dreams," to recur- 
rent dreams, and perhaps also to a quite different group of 
phenomena, that is, to certain cover-memories of childhood. 
These expressive dreams may be regarded as hieroglyphic mile- 
stones in the course of development of the personality, which 
lead the individual to typical life adjustments or to typical reac- 

This insight has become very valuable to me for the stages 
of the development of the neurotic conflict, or more generally 
speaking, for the development of the personality itself. As a 
matter of fact, the careful examination of the pictures of the 
manifest dream-content is seen to yield a representation of the 
progress of this development. The dream of the blue horse will 
be recalled, where the youth shows the insight that his libido 
needs attention, as its functions were disturbed by previous events 
in his life. Some weeks before this, during a period of strong 
resistance, the patient dreamed of people who were swimming 
through a canal. In a small boat stands a strong man, who cap- 
tures the swimmers with a harpoon. He himself (the dreamer) 
looks on, but feels a deep indignation and hatred for the cruel 

The analysis showed that the fisherman symbolized the Last 
Judgment, a problem which secretly occupied and worried the 
youth at that time. One of the chief associations for this was 
Goethe's poem " Prometheus," in which the protest against God 
the Father is idealized. A blind and helpless hatred against fate 
is evinced in this dream. The patient's insight was still at a 
primitive phase, where all evil is deemed as coming from outside, 
towards which one is powerless, but which one curses. The 
reaction is not directed against his own ^o as the cause of the 


evil. The recognition of having failed towards himself is not yet 
reached. It will take time in the ripening process to reach the 
place where the patient will understand that the hatred is really 
directed against himself, something within him, the archaic libido 
(Jung's excellent expression) must die and be offered up, re- 
nounced. When he succeeds in doing this, the Last Judgment 
will have lost its troublesome character. In the time between the 
two dreams related, there has evidently taken place a tremendous 
inner assimilation, which expressed itself outwardly as great 
progress in adjustment to realities. 

In the interval he had a dream of which, as before, I will 
give only a few data. A figure appeared in this dream which, 
under the form of a member of the family, represented a personi- 
fication of the dreamer's evil instincts, and his tendency to self- 
indulgence and laziness. During a journey in an express train, 
the person spoken of left the compartment and although the 
train did not stop he walked towards a house, climbed to the top 
of the lightning rod, and then disappeared into the air. This 
was all the renunciation that the dreamer was capable of at the 
time. If my double " I," the hostile ego, can be got rid of 
without greatly disturbing me (the train does not need to stop) 
I am quite agreeable to this. The youth desires salvation by 
means of a sort of magic; that is, he does not himself as yet 
make an eifort. The dream of the blue horse with the examina- 
tion of the foot shows more earnestness, a deeper insight, but 
the power to act is still small. 

From another case I shall take another series of parts of 
dreams, which illustrates the progressive evolution of the trans- 
ference and the attitude of the dreamer to the sexual question. 
(We are now deaUng with a girl of 28 with very marked sexual 
repressions.) I shall content myself with giving quite summary 
statements. In the night of September 3/4 the lady dreams: 
"A trunk has arrived; my sisters A. and M. unpack it. It coiv- 
tains a snake; M. shows me how I can cut off its head and take 


out its brains, as in a fish, but I recoil in horror." September 
23/24 she dreams: "/ took a shoe to a store to get the rubber 
heel mended. But they also put a longish piece inside the sole, 
which I did not wish. That should only have been done by the 
shoemaker who m^de the shoes. As it is done, however, I con- 
tent myself and pay fifty centimes." October 11/12 she dreams: 
"A squirrel is running in the wood. At last I succeed in catch- 
ing it. Like lightning, there comes to me the thought that it 
might bite." During the analysis of this dream I learned that 
this lady for some time has been interested in soft animals espe- 
cially in groundworms. A few weeks before this she still ex- 
pressed a most pronounced disgust of these creatures. Another 
dream : " I am in the house of Professor Y. I am lying in bed 
and he examines the build of my body, declaring that I am 
especially well adapted to the bearing of children." 

I need hardly mention that I explain these dreams only as 
being useful in the development of the lady's feelings, after a 
penetrating analysis. So that we are not dealing here with in- 
terpretation according to a knowledge of the dream content. 

I place great importance on the choice of the pictures and 
expressions in the manifest dream content, since the dream 
renders an autosymbolic presentation of the psychological situa- 
tion of the unconscious. An energetic, purposeful and well- 
adapted conduct in the dream, points to a mature and successful 
adjustment of the dreamer^ towards the matter in hand. For in- 
stance in a dream, there occurred the violent ejection from a 
church of a talkative, vain, and uncongenial traveller, whereby 
is pictured the serious efforts of the dreamer to overcome the 
characteristics of his own ego as caricatured in the travelling 
man. As has already been mentioned, in the first example, the 
different persons in the dream are personified tendencies of the 
dreamer himself. This idea is not new; Freud and Rank 
formulated it long ago. But I may be allowed to generalize it, 
and would like to add something. A good deal depends, in the 


interpretation, on the part the dreamer himself takes in the 
dream, which of the personifications leads in the action (the 
Centaur in the Prometheus myth!) for this gives us a hint in 
estimating the momentary evolutional phase. 

I have repeatedly felt great admiration for the cleverness 
shown by the psyche, even of the average individual, in the pro- 
duction of plastic, fitting pictures for the actual situation, and I 
value the composition of the manifest dream content more highly 
than does Freud, who, in my opinion, accentuates the censor 
function in a one-sided manner. I see in all this a really artistic 
work, a real art of expression, which I would like to place in 
some relation to art in general. The dream is perhaps the primi- 
tive work of art. 

The observation of the last months leads me to suppose that 
the dreams which are specially plastic and well constructed (in 
which Freud assumes a particularly intense secondary dream 
work) represent a clearly grasped and intensely felt situation. 
They are often significant, occur on important occasions in life, 
for instance, at critical junctures, or as reactions to important 
events. These dreams sometimes repeat themselves. In some 
cases they reach an extraordinary degree of transparency, so that 
they are already intuitively understood by the consciousness of 
the dreamer, and are utilized as motives for conscious actions. I 
am thinking of a dream which presented the classical motive of 
Hercules at the cross roads and always persecuted this lady when- 
ever she was in any dangerous position. However, this lady was 
remarkable for her very rich and valuable premonitions and for 
her fine psychic organization.' 

3 My practice brought me a pretty confirmation of this last sentence 
just at the moment of my last revision of the manuscript, before 
going to print, and I would not like to deprive my readers of it. 

A lady, who for the last four days has been imdergoing psychoanalytic 
treatment (it is rather a case of orientation than of treatment), told me, 
spontaneously, the following dream, to which she herself attached great 
importance. (I wish to emphasize that I had not spoken to her one 
word about the value and meaning of dreams in psychic treatment.) "I 


Many historical dreams — I am thinking for instance of the 
dream of Caesar's mother before his birth, — belong to this class. 
A short notice of certain visions of definite character may be per- 
mitted here, in which, supposedly, a still more intense working 

am with an aunt, long since dead, in my parents' country house. I am 
sitting near her; another relative is present. She says to me in her ami- 
able, lively and always decided manner : ' Get up. Go to Karl [the hus- 
band of the dreamer] and to your children. But put on your pink dress.' " 
The lady awoke and is very happy over her dream. Usually she pays 
no attention to dreams and seldom has clear or plastic dreams. She sees 
in this dream a clear hint of the path she should pursue. The following 
is the lady's psychic situation: She is 40 years old, married, mother of 
three children, who caused her much trouble lately (difficulties concerning 
their education). She loves her husband, respects him greatly, but does 
not stand in close rapport with him. She fears him, does not dare to 
assert herself. He has a remarkable mentality with a tendency to master- 
fulness. The lady had a very sunny childhood and youth, grew up in a 
large family. She left her native place when she married. Life, since 
then, has brought her many difficulties. She has not yet adapted herself 
to her new environment, she longs for her childhood's home or for death. 
She has passed through several periods of depression, suffers from certain 
phobias. A year and a half ago she heard of psychic cures, through a 
relative who was cured, and hoped, without talking about it, to undergo 
such a treatment herself. After thinking about it for a long time she at 
last succeeded in getting away for a few days in order to ask my advice 
as to what she should do. She has a deep nature, but is far from reaching 
the degree of psychic development possible to her. (She is already 40!) 
She has thought much about her situation. Her self-will tells her she 
ought to secure strength from the visits to the physician, in order to 
assert herself against her husband, but she also feels this does not promise 
to be a good way. 

In the three interviews with me, which preceded the dream, I was able 
to show her her infantile and inadequate adjustment to her husband, and 
the relation of this to the parent constellation. She had then come to 
understand that her longing for death was a symbolic expression of her 
avoidance of her life problem — that is, to be a mature wife and a loving 
and decided mother of her children. She had always expected from her 
husband the same exaggerated recognition which all her family had given 
her in her youth, and is still annoyed that her husband's way is different. 
The day after our third interview came this dream, which told her to go 
to her husband and her children with the pink dress on. This dress be- 
longs to her youth, she wore it on festive occasions. Otherwise she sits 
at home with tears in her eyes, now she is to put on the pink dress. She 
is not to go against her husband, but she is to stand in more correct rela- 
tions to him than formerly; not in the infantile attitude of constantly ex- 


of the unconscious material has taken place, so that the meaning 
has come within reach of the consciousness. The celebrated 
visions of Benevenuto Cellini the analysis of which I gave at 
the International Congress of Psychotherapy last year (and which 
will appear in my book on the " Manner of Cure"), also belong 

The same is true of many visions which occur in the course 
of religious conversion and in the " Automatismes teleologiques 
anti-suicides " of Flournoy. 

The Dream in Its Psychic Environment 

We shall now go back to the consideration of the dream, and 
its relation to the psychic situation; what is known in biology as 
the question of environment. Hitherto the dream has not been 
sufficiently investigated clinically and has been regarded too much 
as a symptom apart. 

A thorough investigation from this point of view should bring 
a harvest of valuable material for the solution of numerous ques- 
tions. For example, I consider the clinical behavior of the 

pecting to receive, but in relation of being herself the giver (as wife 
and mother). What is confronting her is this after development. The 
aunt, we learn, was a prominent educator; the head of a large school and 
the only person who understood, when she was a child, how to tell her 
what was disagreeable to her (reproof) in such a way that the self-willed 
girl had to accept it, and was actually grateful to her aunt. So the aunt 
is a personification of a tendency to the mother image. The country 
house spoken of is the birthplace of the dreamer's mother and at the same 
time the paradise of her own childhood days. The dream urges her to 
leave this paradise (to overcome her mother transference), to go into 
her own home. Her relation to the physician is the same as to the aunt 
who was mentioned as being a great educator. 

To one who understands the structure of the dream, this appears very 
transparent. The dream signifies the first decided step in the solution of 
the lady's task which has so long remained unsolved. It is not merely 
the first step in a new direction, but the link in a long chain of circum- 
stances, which was prepared by a long elaboration entering into a specially 
active phase through the conversations with the relative who was cured 
[also a patient of mine]. This example gives another illustration of the 
necessity, emphasized in this article, of considering the dream in its broad 
relations. This question will be treated in the next part of the text. 


dreamer, after the dream, as an essential contribution to the solu- 
tion of the contested question of the actual function of the dream. 
The mood on awakening, and all next day, may be an important 
indication of the success of the dream work. Hints on this 
point I have already given in the analysis of the dream of the 
blue horse. The so-called "nurse's dream," which will be an- 
alyzed in the second part of this part, is a clear negative example 
of unsuccessful dream work. 

I shall now present to you a convincing example of the success 
of a dream, which I take from the third edition of Freud's 
" Traumdeutung." On page 317 a number of Rosegger's dreams 
are discussed, which I shall quote : " There is a class of dreams 
which are well entitled to be considered * hypocritical,' and which 
put the theory of wish-fulfilment to a hard test. My attention 
was called to this when Mrs. Dr. M. Hiferding brought for dis- 
cussion to the Vienna Psychoanalytical Meeting the following 
dream by Rosegger. Rosegger, in his Waldheimat (second vol- 
ume) says in a story entitled " case A," page 303, " I usually en- 
joy healthy sleep but many a night I have no rest. I lead, side 
by side with my life as student and litterateur, the shadow life of 
a tailor's apprentice. This I have dragged with me through long 
years, Hke a ghost, without being able to get rid of it. It is not 
true that in the daytime my thoughts are frequently busy with 
my early past. From a Philistine I have become one who attacks 
heaven and earth and have other things to do. The happy go- 
lucky chap could hardly have thought of his nightly dreams ; only 
later, when I became accustomed to think things out, or perhaps 
when the Pjjiilistine in me asserted himself again, it struck me how 
strange it was that when I dreamed at all I was always the tailor- 
apprentice, and as such had been working a long time without 
compensation in my master's workshop. 

"When I thus sat beside him, sewing and ironing, I knew 
very well that I really did not belong there any more ; that as city 
dweller I had other things to do, but I was always off on a holi- 


day taking my summer vacation, and helping out at my master's. 
I was often very uncomfortable and regretted the loss of time in 
which I would have known well how to employ myself better and 
more usefully. Sometimes I had to endure censure from the 
master tailor, if something had not turned out the correct cut or 
measure but of any weekly payments there was never even men- 
tion. Often when I sat with bent back in the dark workshop, I 
made up my mind to give my master notice and to quit. Once 
I even did so, but the master took no notice and soon I was 
sitting there again, sewing. How happy I was to wake up after 
such tedious hours, and then I resolved that if this insistent 
dream should come again to throw it off with energy, and to 
call out aloud, * It is only a play — I lie in bed and wish to sleep.* 
Yet the next night I sat again in the tailor's workshop. So it 
continued for years with uncanny regularity. Then once, when 
the master and I were at the house of the peasant, where I en- 
tered upon my apprenticeship, my master showed himself espe- 
cially dissatisfied with my work. ' I would like to know where 
your mind goes to,' said he, looking at me angrily. I thought 
the most sensible thing to do would be to get up now and tell the 
master that I was only helping him from kindness and then go 
away. But I did not do it. I calmly submitted when the master 
took an apprentice and told me to make room for him on the 
bench. I wriggled into the corner and sewed. On the same day 
another lad started to learn the trade, and behold, it was the 
Bohemian who nineteen years ago worked for us and who at 
that time had fallen into the brook, on his way from the inn. 
When he wished to sit down there was no room. I looked ques- 
tioningly at the master, and he said to me : * You have no talent 
for tailoring, you can go, you are dismissed.' I was so fright- 
ened by this that I awoke. The dawn was entering the win- 
dows of my cozy home. Objects of art surrounded me. In my 
well stocked bookcase eternal Homer was awaiting me, gigantic 
Dante, incomparable Shakespeare, glorious Goethe, the splendid 


ones, all the immortals. From the next room sounded the clear, 
little voices of the awakening children, chattering with their 
mother. I felt as if I had just newly recovered this idylically 
sweet life of mine — ^peaceful, poetic, spiritualized, in which so 
often I had realized human happiness to the uttermost. Yet I 
resented it that I had not anticipated my master's dismissal of 
me, but had been sent off by him. And how strange it is that 
since that night, when my master dismissed me, I enjoy rest; I 
dream no longer of my tailoring days that lie in the distant past, 
which in their way were so jolly in their simplicity, without de- 
mands, and yet threw this long shadow on the later years of my 

In this series of a poet's dreams (who in his younger years 
had once been a tailor's apprentice) it is difficult to recognize 
the wish fulfilment. All he enjoys lies in his waking life, whilst 
the dream seems to drag along the ghostly shadow of a joyless 
existence which the dreamer at last overcame. Some dreams of 
a similar kind have enabled me to give some explanation of this 
sort of dream. As a young doctor I worked for a long time in a 
chemical institute, without achieving anything much in the arts 
there to be acquired and therefore, when awake, never like to 
think of this unfruitful and rather humiliating episode of my 
student days. Yet it has become a recurrent dream with me, 
that I am working in the laboratory and making analyses; all 
sorts of things happen and so on — these dreams are as uncom- 
fortable as dreams of examinations and never very clear. In- 
terpreting one of these dreams, my attention was finally drawn 
to the word " analysis " and this gave me the key to the under- 
standing of the dream. Since then, sure enough, I have become 
an analyst, I make analyses that receive praise — that is, psycho- 
analyses ! I understood now that when in the waking life I am 
proud of analyses of this sort, and would like to boast how much 
success I have had, then, by night, the dream holds up before 
me those other unsuccessful analyses of which I would have no 


reason to be proud ; these are punishment dreams of the upstart, 
like that of the tailor apprentice who has become a feted poet. 

But how is it possible for this sort of dream to place itself 
in the conflict between the pride of the parvenu and the self 
criticism the latter uses, and to take for its contents a sensible 
warning instead of an unpermissible wish fulfilment? I have 
already said that the answer to this question causes difficulties. 
We may assume that an overbearing ambition forms the founda- 
tion of the dream. But in place of ambition the repression 
and humiliation of the ambition has got into the dream. I may 
remind you that there are masochistic tendencies in the psychic 
life, to which one might ascribe such an inversion. But closer 
examination of some of these dreams gives further revela- 
tion. In the vague side issues of one of my laboratory dreams, 
I was just at the phase of the darkest and most unsuccessful 
year of my career as a physician. I had as yet no standing, and 
did not know how to make ends meet ; but just then it was clear 
that I might have the choice of several women whom I could 
have married ! So I was young again in the dream, and above 
all, she was young again, the wife who had shared with me all 
these hard years. This betrayed the unconscious dream agent 
as being one of the insistent gnawing wishes of the aging man. 
The fight between vanity and self criticism, waged in other psychic 
layers, had decided the dream content, but only the deeper rooted 
wish for youth had made it possible as a dream. Often, awake, 
we say to ourselves " Everything is all right as it is to-day, and 
those were hard times, but it was fine, at that time ; you were still 
young then ! " 

According to the suggested interpretation of Freud, the mean- 
ing of the dream would be about this : " I wish I were still young, 
as I was in the days when I was a tailor apprentice." When I 
ask myself if this interpretation explains the clinical findings, 
namely the liberating effect of the last dream of the series, I 
must answer no. For if I, in dreams, long intensely for my 


youth, I fail to see why the awakening and the making sure 
of my later age and present conditions, makes me so happy, as is 
actually the case. A second question suggests itself : Why does 
only the last dream of the series (when the tailor dismisses the 
youth) act in such a manner as to set the dreamer free and to set 
him free once for all? 

For this dream I make the following suggestion : By his own 
efforts Rosegger has worked himself up to a high position in 
life. This has made him proud and vain, two qualities which 
easily disturb mankind, since they cause a man to suffer in the 
presence of superiors and place him in a parvenu position among 
the lowly, this not being compatible with a fine sensibility. The 
two qualities poison the psyche. Deep down there takes place in 
the sensitive poet a gradual elaboration, a development of the 
moral personality. Rosegger's ideal conception of life is well 
known and justifies my supposition. Accident, in the last few 
days, has placed in my hands a private correspondence between 
the poet and a literary friend, which treats of just this point — 
Rosegger's pride and vanity — which was to me an unexpected 
confirmation of the solution just suggested. The long series of 
tormenting dreams shows us the development of the psychic 
process which ends in a deep but effective humiliation of the 
dreamer. After long working for nothing for this master, he is 
censured unjustly; a drunkard and a do-nothing is even pre- 
ferred to him, and finally he is sent away. He is " made strange " 
(dismissed). This being sent away (being dismissed) sym- 
bolizes, in my opinion, the overcoming of the pride and vanity of 
the upstart. After long struggles the poet is set free. (We 
know that the dreams persecuted him for years.) Since his dis- 
missal, in the last dream, he may now enjoy, rightfully but 
humbly, what he has won by his own exertions — he has won for 
himself the moral justification to do so. 

Rosegger's dream is then, for me, an autosymbolic expression 
of the development of the moral personality of the poet. It is 


well adapted to demonstrate clearly the teleological side of psychic 
phenomena. Freud's interpretation refers to a justifiable wish 
of the mature, aging man " to be young again." This conception 
contains only the regressive side of the phenomena, for such a 
wish is a regression. But dreams also contain a progressive side, 
which is for me the more important one. We want something 
more of life than the longing for the past; the poet wishes to 
make something of the life that still remains to him. The work 
of his unconscious helps him in this and expresses his progressive 
as well as his regressive longings. On this point I shall speak 
more freely after the analysis of the so-called nurse's dream. 

Types of Dreams 

This part of my paper, which deals with the manifest dream 
content, I shall close with a short, sketchy classification of dream 
categories. You remember the formula that the dream is an 
autosymbolic phenomenon. Two extreme kinds may be distin- 
guished — between them may be found all degrees of approxima- 
tions. Among the first kind we may recognize in the dream the 
representation of an intensely active condition of the psyche. 
The action is lively or direct, energetic; or the words uttered 
are the clear expression of a resolve, etc. This quality may be 
made use of in the prognosis, be it in the sense of an intensely 
progressive achievement or of an active resistance. In the second 
kind of dream the static factor dominates. Indifference, indeci- 
sion, vagueness, awkwardness, doubt, stagnation or fixation re- 
veal themselves already in the manifest dream content. Such 
dreams are apt to occur during times of lazy, passive resistance 
or in the incubation period. Also they have a certain prognostic 
meaning for the contemporary phase. 

I ask myself if there may not be a third category of dreams, 
to which another new element strongly contributes — the prospec- 
tive outlook ; dreams which are not so much an actual picture of 
the situation but rather a vision of the future striven for, and po- 


tentiality contained in the individual. I must avoid being mis- 
understood here; of course we are here deahng only with a 
realization of a latent power, without taking into account outside 
obstacles. AVe are not dealing with a prophetic vision but with a 
foresight, with a clew to the direction which is suited to the 
reaction and strength of the patient in question. In the course of 
this paper I shall come to speak of a certain individual reaction 
formula, of a sort of constant which permits of the establishment 
of a prognosis, up to a certain point. I assume this to be the 
true kernel of the faith in prophetic dreams. Adler, who as we 
know has given a definite conception of the psyche, takes a simi- 
lar view, and he has, as is well known, given a conception ol 
the psyche that is very final and very one-sided. I myself have 
reasons to assume that certain so-called childhood memories 
give a symbolic outlook on later important experiences in life, 
this taking place because of a reaction formula already developed 
in the child. Two childhood memories of the artist Benvenuto 
Cellini first demonstrated this idea to me. I shall discuss this in 
detail in my book already announced, the " Manner of Cure." 
This contains an analysis of the Florentine artist. I shall try in 
the analysis of the Prometheus myth to carry this idea from the 
life of the individual over into that of a people. Just here is 
an opportunity to mention that Freud in his beautiful Leonardo 
analysis has already formulated this same idea, although his con- 
ception is different from mine. 

Prospective dreams, of which we are speaking, do not appear 
arbitrarily at any moment in life, but only at the suitable moment. 
In two papers I have already pointed out the significance of the 
first dream in the treatment.* Steckel and perhaps others of 
whom I cannot think just now have also done this. These first 
dreams frequently (always) belong to this last category. This 
whole field is still open to research as all else of which I have 
spoken to-day. A fine rich work is still open before all of us! 

* Zentralblatt, ist year, p. 348, and in " On the Function of the Dream;' 
Jahrbuch, Vol. 4. 

the dream problem 3 1 

On the Question of Symbolism in Dreams 
When I look over my interpretation of symbols during the 
last two years, it is clear to me that gradually, and at first quite 
unconsciously, a change came about in my interpretations. The 
content of the symbol is no longer monovalent, but has come to 
be of wider meaning. The sexual interpretation has become, 
so to speak, the first step, in some respects only the preliminary 
step, and the significance of the contemporary situation of the 
dreamer rather has been drawn into the matter more and more. 
An opportune discussion of the so-called actual conflict in neu- 
rosis by Jung (in the Psychoanalytic Conference), nearly two 
years ago, confirmed me in my orientation and helped me in this 
change of view. On the actual conflict I shall still say some- 
thing in this paper to-day. I will now enter more fully into the 
question of the interpretation of symbols. It can be best dem- 
onstrated by means of an example. 

In the third edition of the "Dream Interpretation" Freud 
gives a short symbol interpretation, which I would like to use as a 
starting point. This is the dream of a young man (p. 207) : "He 
is in a deep tunneled passage, in which there is a window, as 
in the Semmering tunnel. Through this he sees, at first, an 
empty landscape, and then he composes a picture into it, which 
is there immediately and fills out the void. The view is now 
that of a field deeply ploughed up by an instrument and the fine 
air, the idea of the work so well done, the blue black clods of 
earth, make a pleasing impression on the dreamer. Then he goes 
further and sees a book on pedagogics open before him. He is 
surprised that in it so much attention is paid to the child's sexual 
feelings, and that makes him think of me [Freud] ." The inter- 
pretation given is that this is a phantasy of the young man who 
takes advantage of his intra-uterine opportunity to spy upon the 
coitus between his parents. The associations of the young man 
are not given. 

It is not difficult for us to recognize the tunnel picture as an 


exteriorization of certain parts of the body, i. e., the uterus and 
the vagina. The ploughing of the field is a well-known coitus 
symbol. This dream interpretation is evidently built on the 
knowledge of these two symbols but gives us no solution for 
the second part of the dream, which contains the open book on 

I accept this interpretation as a preliminary step of the inter- 
pretation itself. In his "Transformations and Symbols of the 
Libido " Jung has called our attention to the problem of re-birth. 
I myself became better acquainted with this subject summer 
before last, by means of my analysis of the visions of the Floren- 
tine B. Cellini. In this dream here there seems to be a similar 
symbol, for as soon as I accept this hypothesis, the whole dream, 
part I and part II, becomes entirely clear. " The young man is 
still in the uterus and looks out," would be the meaning of the 
first picture, which in conscious speech might be thus expressed : 
he is still on the path of his mental regeneration (development) 
— for the idea of re-birth is an archaic picture for mental de- 
velopment, as Dieterich has shown. The young man looks out 
and sees a field being ploughed thoroughly. The field is not 
merely a sexual symbol but is also a symbol of the field of ac- 
tivity, the young man's own life task. To plough the field Goes 
not mean merely coitus, but " to do his work." The young man 
sees a new life, full of work, before him after his cure is com- 
pleted (birth). The emotional element of the dream fits very 
well to this. By this process of thought the meaning of the last 
part of the dream has also become clear ; the dreamer's new field 
of work has been more definitely pointed out ; he will seek occu- 
pation as a teacher, out of love for his analyst, and bearing in 
mind the events of his own psychoanalysis. To guide others is 
to guide oneself. 

This interpretation gives us a picture of activity ascribed to 
the role of the analyzer; to the patient himself it gives an orien- 
tation in his efforts and the course of his cure. Of what use, 


pragmatically considered, would be to him the interpretation of 
the dream as the spying on the sexual intercourse between his 
parents? Freud's interpretation I regard as a preliminary step 
of the actual interpretation. It is, so to speak, the picturesque 
material which must be translated into the intellectual, — it gives 
the " whence " of the symbol, but not the " whither." To put it 
differently, it gives the retrospective, but not the prospective. 
Jung once expressed this idea picturesquely, when he said "the 
unconscious speaks a pidgin English which must be translated 
into the language of cultured men." Adler's saying that the 
sexual speech of neurosis is a "manner of speaking" is prob- 
ably to be taken in the same sense. 

This two-sided nature of the symbol I explain in my analyses 
as follows : The searching out of the symbols may be compared 
to contemplating a tree of which one considers the subterranean 
parts, the roots, and the upper part, the trunk, branches, leaves, 
etc. In the case of the symbol, the sexually symbolic is like the 
root, the intellectual content of the symbol is like the trunk and 

You will permit me another brief example as illustration: 

rain magic and fertility magic among savage peoples, and which 

are preserved even to-day in some customs of our peasants here, 

when regarded retrospectively prove themselves to be entirely 

frank coitus symbols. But they are not such only — they are 

more than this. They represent a frank attempt on the part of 

primitive man to represent and to influence a process of nature, 

that is, fructification. He is only using, because of his distinctly 

anthropomorphic tendency, materials from a procedure well 

known to him, in order to gain a new conception. This is the 

outcome of prospective reflection. As a matter of fact, we may 

regard the concept of magic as the mythical stage of meteorology 

and of chemistry as applied to agriculture. Thus modestly appear 

the beginnings of our distinguished sciences." 

5 See the rich ethnological literature for clews to literature and as 
reference book W. Wundt's " Folk Psychology." 


It was my original intention to show, by means of Parsifal, 
how the Freudian symbology stops short on its way to the right 
goal of its task, and thereby becomes unfruitful, but I must re- 
serve this intention for a later publication, as it would make 
this paper too long, and I shall therefore content myself with 
pointing out that tracing back the grail and the lance to the fem- 
inine and masculine genitals gives us an explanation only as to 
the original source of these symbols, but not as to their real con- 
tent. A recent analysis of the Prometheus myth gave me lately 
a quite analogous experience; that is to say, the Freudian myth 
analyses really contain only the beginning of the actual analyses ; 
this explains, to a great extent, why they are so little understood 
by those who are not initiated. These analyses are like the de- 
cipherings of the alphabet of an unknown language, but they do 
not arrive at a knowledge of the words themselves. Proofs of 
this I shall give shortly. 

In the interpretation of symbols we must not stop short at 
the concrete sexual act ; it is our task to connect the prospective 
conception with the retrospective. Freud himself, as I gladly 
admit, was the first to give this interpretation by correlating 
rescue phantasies of the neurotic with birth dreams. For the ulti- 
mate interpretation of the rescue phantasies leads directly to 
the motive of re-birth. Putnam, two years ago, gave a discourse 
in our circle which, as I believe and regret, was little under- 
stood. In it he very clearly indicated the position just taken. 
The last sentence of his address, which might well serve as a 
motto for this part of my paper, was this : " Rightly we boast of 
having thrown light, from one side, on the significance of the 
church-steeple. But there still remains to us the more important 
task of learning to understand its other significance with equal 

It is not difficult to understand why some change in our 
methods has become necessary. What made psychoanalysis as a 
method so fruitful till now was the systematic introduction of 


genetic thinking into psychology. Research is directed primarily 
towards origins, towards the past. But research would become 
paralyzed if it remained for any length of time one-sidedly retro- 
spective. A new field of work is now before us and awaits our 
efforts. The prospective road leads to reality; it promises us, 
therapeutically, the most important insight, just as the retro- 
spective road once meant for us a great scientific gain. Biology, 
which has traced the phylogeny of the under jaw of man back 
to the gill arches of the fish, after making this important dis- 
covery returned to the lower jaw of man in order to examine and 
better understand its structure and function. We, ladies and 
gentlemen, are in a similar position now, and must clearly admit 
it, in order to continue our work. The fine American lectures 
which Jung has just published, are a clear expression of this.'*' 

The prospective capacity, which after the numerous experi- 
ences of the last few years, we may ascribe to the libido (and 
here the merits of Jung are to be prominently accentuated), and 
from which we assume that it develops a lively activity in the 
unconscious, stands in close relation to the function of the symbol. 
We have progressively learned to interpret the symbolism as the 
mythical organ of knowledge, and the symbol itself as expres- 
sion of as yet vaguely grasped reality. I must remind you of the 
first mythical step in knowledge by Auguste Comte, and the im- 
portant contributions of H. Silberer. In his book " On the 
Formation of Symbols," Silberer presents an early type of the 
symbol which he defines as follows: "The first type of the 
symbol originates when the idea, unhindered by disturbing con- 
current ideas (concurrent affect-accentuated complexes), is 
visualized on the basis of this apperceptive insufficiency as an idea 
which has arisen on an intellectual basis.' 

This first type of symbol offers a theoretical basis for my 

6' Theory of Psychoanalysis, Monograph Series, No. 19, 
8 Silberer's orientation is closely allied to ours in Ztirich, aimough 
the two points of view have arisen independently. 


conception — entirely empiric — of the preparatory and preparing 
function of the dream (or of the unconscious). The possible 
suitable solution of the conflicts are gropingly searched for and 
expressed by the symbol. We must here eliminate entirely the 
question of the intuition, which plays so prominent a part in the 
philosophy of Bergson. All this aspect of the symbol spreads 
beyond the confines of the thus far accepted " censor," and shows 
the necessity for testing and broadening our conception of dream 

The Tendencies of the Vienna and Zurich Schools in 

Freud has given me occasion to suppose, in a recent publica- 
tion, that I must have expressed myself in my work on the func- 
tion of the dream so as to be misunderstood,'^ for he there ascribes 
to me ideas which, as a matter of fact, are not mine. 

In this publication, to be found in Vol. i of the International 
Zeitschrift fiir Psychoanalyse, 1913, there is a dream, in the 
analysis of which, among other things, there is to be found an 
indirect confession of a deed done the day before. Freud here 
shows that this dream has a deeper meaning than only the com- 
paratively unimportant confession read out of the translation of 
the symbol. " So it is proved that there is no necessity to admit 
there are confession dreams, just as it is senseless to speak of 
reflection dreams or warning dreams." This assumption is re- 
garded as a regression to the preanalytic period. 

I consider Freud entirely right when he shows that such a 
dream is not yet analyzed if the confession was read out of it 
and when he speaks of the regressive point of view of such an 
analyzer. But I must contradict him if he assumes such a point 
of view to be mine. I am glad to be able here to express clearly 
that this is an entire misunderstanding. In order to clear up the 
situation, I have decided to interpret this dream myself according 

TJahrbuch, Vol. IV. 


to the material at our disposal. I suppose the analysis, which 
I will now make for you, would be the same if made by some 
Zurich colleague of mine. Thus it will be possible for me to 
contrast the two interpretations which now exist in the psycho- 
analytic movement. 

I must begin by saying that the particular dream is that of a 
nurse, and was analyzed by a lady patient of Freud's, and that 
Freud himself accepted the interpretation and carried it some- 
what deeper. 

A lady suffering from doubt and compulsion neurosis de- 
mands of her nurses not to be permitted out of their sight one 
moment, as otherwise she begins to worry about what forbidden 
thing she may have done during the time she was not watched. 
One evening she is resting on the couch ; she fancies she sees that 
the nurse on duty has dropped asleep. She asks : " Did you see 
me ? " The nurse starts up and answers : " Yes, certainly." The 
patient now has grounds for a new doubt and repeats the same 
question after an interval. The nurse again asserts she was 
awake and at that moment the maid brings in the evening meal. 
This happens on a Friday evening. Next morning the nurse 
tells a dream which scatters the doubts of the patient. The 
nurse's dream: She was given the care of a child and she lost 
it. On the way she asks people on the street if they have seen 
the child. Then she reaches a large sheet of water and goes 
across a small foot path. (Later she adds that on this path the 
nurse is suddenly before her like a mirage.) Then she finds her- 
self in a neighborhood she knows well and there meets a woman 
she knew as a girl, and who at that time was a saleswoman in a 
grocery store, but later she married. This woman is standing 
before the door and the dreamer asks her: Have you seen the 
child f But the woman is not interested in this question and tells 
her she is now separated from her husband, adding that even in 
marriage there is not always happiness. Then the dreamer 


awakes, quieted, and thinks the child will probably be found at 
some neighbor's house. 

I must put aside a good deal of material and direct the reader 
to Freud's previously mentioned publication. I content myself 
with repeating the interpretation there given and shall then give 
my own. 

The lady's interpretation of the dream establishes that the 
nurse is disturbed at having failed in the fulfilment of her duties 
and is afraid of being dismissed on that account. Therefore the 
dream contains a sort of confession. We must emphasize that in 
the morning the nurse tells the lady the dream, and added that 
Friday is often an eventful day for her. (It was a Friday when 
the incident occurred.) 

This interpretation is accepted by Freud, but he broadens and 
completes it, since he discovers the "deeper meaning of the 
dream," the dream- forming wish that originates in the uncon- 
scious. The wish appears as follows : " Very well I did close my 
eyes and so compromised my reliability as a nurse; now I shall 
lose this place. Shall I be as stupid as X. who went into the 
water? No, I won't be nurse any longer, anyway, I mean to 
marry, be a wife, have a child of my own. Nothing shall prevent 
this." This last interpretation is not actually built on ideas of 
the dreamer, but as Freud says, " on our knowledge of dream 
symbolism." (The water, the whale in the myth of Jonah, the 
narrow path.) 

In the interpretation which I will now put before you, I shall, 
as in my first example, distinguish between an objective and a 
subjective phase. 

The child who has been lost is, of course, the patient entrusted 
to the nurse ; the dreamer might lose her place and thereby come 
to the same condition as X. who committed suicide (mirage). 
The married woman who is asked about the child and who is only 
interested in her own affairs is, first, the sick lady, who bothers 
the nurse quite a little with her neurosis. It is evident that the 


nurse has a typical aunt-transference to this lady, in which there 
is a distinct element of defiance. (The analyzing lady has not 
recognized herself in the dream, because she is represented in 
too uncomplimentary a manner.) The qualification of the sales- 
woman in the grocery store must refer, in this phase, to the em- 
ployer from whom the dreamer receives her food. Freud draws 
attention to another source, which is certainly correct — ^that is, 
infantile symbolism, the qualification no doubt also applies to the 
aunt, and also to the mother of the nurse. But the married 
woman without doubt is also the aunt, as Freud assures us. 
(The dreamer knows the place well ; also notice the circumstance 
that she ignores the nurse's questions about the child, like the 
aunt who was greatly opposed to a former suitor of the nurse.) 
Therefore we get this meaning: neither my employer nor my 
aunt bother much about me, they are only interested in their 
own affairs. The circumstance that the conversation takes place 
before a door in a well-known spot, leads me to suppose that this 
refers to the mother and to the dreamer's own birth. Therein 
we find an accusation against the mother, and also an excusing of 
herself from the fault committed. I have been made this way, 
have been brought up so, it is not my fault. This makes compre- 
hensible the last sentence of the dream, the child will probably be 
found at some neighbor's house; I need not take the matter so 

Now we will take the dream in its subjective phase: the child 
entrusted to her, and which she lost and was seeking across the 
sheet of water, whence she met the mirage, is her own valuable 
personality, still a child, which ought to grow up and was lost as 
the day before she had again showed herself to be unreliable in 
her work and defiant, irritable towards her patient. We may as- 
sume that the incident of the day before the dream was only a 
repetition of innumerable faults which were reawakened on this 
day of misfortunes (Friday). The nurse finds herself before a 


difficulty typical to her and she reacts typically. Witness the 
aunt-mother transference. 

The lost child must be found, the submerged moral person- 
ality must be born again, and she actually stands near a great 
water, to which belongs the thought of the Jonah myth. The 
joke of wriggling Jonah, which belongs in the original material, 
has not been used in the interpretation given us, but it belongs 
here. The nurse does similarly, she wriggles out of her diffi- 
culty ; she does not take the matter seriously ; why bother herself ? 
The child will be found at some neighbor's house. I can't act 
differently, I have not been taught (accusation of aunt, mother) . 
Rebirth (alias moral development) the nurse does not succeed 
in obtaining; she is content with some superficial consolation. 
Therefore, we don't expect to find any liberation, any relief from 
her depression. As a matter of fact we know that after the 
dream she remains defiant, does not confess her fault, is irritable 
and so forth, — that is, she remains stuck in her typical pre- 
dicament. But the nurse must also be identical with the former 
seller of foods, for we expect to find after the definition of the 
dream which I have to-day set forth, that on sufficient analysis 
all figures in the dream will resolve themselves as personifica- 
tions of tendencies of the libido. It is so here also, since the 
nurse does not sufficiently trouble about her patient; she sleeps 
during her hours on duty ; probably she dreams a good deal about 
her own affairs. The marriage and separation of the woman in 
the dream no doubt refer to her own unfortunate love-affair, as 
Freud has shown. 

This dream, then, gives us a pictured representation of the 
nurse's psychic situation at the time of the occurrence we are 
reporting. It expresses the insufficient attempts of the dreamer 
to develop the ethical personality. It contains references to a 
new birth; but also to the failure of the same and at last the 
dreamer assumes the attitude of resigned indifference. Accord- 
ing to my conception this is not merely a confession dream, 


although Freud ascribes that opinion to me. The dream may be 
recognized indirectly (in that it is told to the lady) and also 
directly (by the analysis) as a confession. But in the psychic 
menage of the dreamer it has a greater significance than either of 
these, for it pictures in symbolic speech, a typical psychic reac- 
tion of the dreamer to a given stimulus from the outer world. 
Its meaning goes much beyond its cause. The loss of the place 
would not have been of such great importance to the nurse ; such 
employment is easy to get. It deals with the actual conflict of 
the dreamer, or rather, it deals unmistakably with her actual life- 
problem. I think I am speaking entirely in Jung's meaning of 
the " actual conflict " and similarly as Riklin has done in an ap- 
parently greatly misunderstood essay in the Correspondenzblatt 
f. Schweizer Aerzte, except I would prefer the expression "ac- 
tual expression of the life-task" to "actual conflict." 

I would be greatly pleased if the contrasting of these two dif- 
ferent interpretations of the same dream might serve to bring 
about a better understanding of my conception, all the more as I 
am convinced there is no difference of principle involved, but 
only a broadening, or rather a deepening, in that we take the 
question from its strictly sexual into the general psychological 

In order to be rightly understood, I will try to outline my atti- 
tude to Freud's interpretation. The nurse fails in one place, 
she is not capable of adjustment, her libido undergoes retro- 
gression. Experience teaches us that in this situation of the 
libido, sexual excitement easily takes place (notice the onanism 
of neurotics, following discomfitures of any kind). In a girl, 
the wish for love, marriage, and a child, which is justified bio- 
logically as well as psychologically, can fulfil itself in phantasy. 
This confirms Freud's interpretation. If I ask myself, how can 
it be possible that two different interpretations of the same dream 
may be correct, there comes to me an idea that I have long har- 
bored, without following it out sufficiently thoroughly and sys- 


tematically. It is this : The wish of the girl for love and a child 
is an expression of the pleasure-principle, whilst the picture of 
the nurse's faulty adjustment to life and her reaction is the work 
of the reality principle. The dream, as I interpret it, describes 
the faulty adjustment to reality. The two fundamental prin- 
ciples of psychic happening, as formulated by Freud, ought to be 
demonstrable in the psychic phenomena ; therefore in the dream 
as well as elsewhere. For the last two years I have gradually 
received the impression that in psychoanalysis we have first 
learned to know the pleasure principle and its numerous mani- 
festations, thanks to Freud ; whereas, the reality principle as the 
younger child has been somewhat neglected, and that its further- 
ing is essentially the work of the Ziirich school with Jung at its 
head. The following from Freud's interpretation seems to me 
a confirmation of this. " The wish, * I want a child,' seems to be 
more adapted to help the nurse over the unpleasant situation of 
the reality." It looks like a distinct accentuation of the pleasure 
principle on Freud's part. You are aware that the principal idea 
of my contested article on the " Function of the Dream," is as 
follows : " In the dream there is at work a preparatory arranging 
function which belongs to the work of adjustment." This is a 
clear expression of the emphasis I place on the reality principle. 
The two main principles here mentioned are after all only 
an expression of the two typical forms of activity of the libido, 
progressive and regressive. They are, metaphorically expressed, 
two channels at the disposal of the libido current. The important 
point is the proper distribution of the same. They are also com- 
parable to two voices which, more or less harmoniously, sing 
the song of life. In neurosis, as in the first phase of cure by 
analysis, the voice of regression drowns the other; this can be 
proved in numerous dreams which are to be found in literature ; 
I have therefore avoided giving examples. It is true that in 
all these dreams traces of the drowned voice of progression are 
demonstrable. It is to this point, it seems to me, that the analyst 


of the future should attach the most importance, for we are first 
and foremost healers, and therefore it is our duty to point out to 
our wandering patients the light that shines in the distance. This 
gleam of light is to serve them as a lighthouse in the storms of 
passion. In the course of the treatment the voice of progression 
will gradually become louder, until it finally takes the dominant 
note. The connection between pleasure and displeasure prin- 
ciple and the cathartic function, on the one hand, and between 
the reality principle and the preparatory function on the other 
can here be merely indicated. An outburst of anger, to avoid 
internal tension, the striving for satisfaction by replacements, 
are frank unloadings (cathartic cleansings) ; the weighing and 
representing of the solution of a conflict prepares for freedom 
and leads to reality. 

I am at the end of my presentation. You will be Justified in 
remarking that I have not tried to test the subject from all sides ; 
I have, for instance, passed over the dream as a guardian of sleep, 
and left polemics aside. I did not do so in order to lighten my 
task; I may say for my justification that I primarily desired to 
handle those points which have become somewhat clear to me, I 
have also striven to bring as much positive material as might be 
useful for the discussion. I hope that the gaps I have been 
obliged to leave may be filled out by my colleague to your satis- 



H 3ournal Devotet) to an 
llnt)er0tanMng ot ibuman Conduct 



Volume in April, 1916 Number 2 


The Work of Alfred Adler, Considered with Especial Reference to that of 
Freed. James J. Putnam 

Clinical Cases Exhibiting Unconscious Defense Reactions. 

Francis M. SnocKLKy 
Technique of Psychoanalysis, Smith Ely Jelliffe 


Processes of Recovery in Schizophrenics. H. Bertschinger 

The Significance of Psychoanalysis for the Mental Sciences. 

Otto Rank and Hanns Sachs 
ABSTRACTS. Book Reviews. 

Issued Quarterly: $5.00 per Volume, 
Single Numbers, $1.50 
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Vol. 3 began with 1916. Circular of contents of Vol. 2 on application 
Orders received at any time at 

64 West 56th Street, New York 


Original Articles 

Some General Remarks on the Principles of Pain-Pleasure and of Reality. Paul Federn i 

The Unconscious. W. A. White 12 

The Theory of Psychoanalysis. C. G. Jung 29 

A Plea for a Broader Standpoint in Psychoanalysis. M. Solomon 52 

Technique of Psychoanalysis. S. E. Jelliffe 73, 191, 286, 409 

Contributions to the Psychopathology of Everyday Life: Their Relation to Abnormal 

Mental Phenomena. R. S. Miller 121 

The Integrative Functions of the Nervous System Applied to Some Reactions in Human 

Behavior and their Attending Psychic Functions. E. J. Kempf 152 

A Manic-Depressive Episode Representing a Frank Wish-Realization Contruction. R. Reed 166 

Psychoanalytic Parallels. W. A. White 177 

Psychoanalysis. C. G. Jung 241 

The Role of the Sexual Complex in Dementia Precox. J. C. Hassall 260 

Psycho-Genetics of Androcratic Evolution. T. Schroeder 277 

Some Studies in the Psychopathology of Acute Dissociation of the Personality. E. J. 

Kempf 361 

Psychoanalysis. A. H. Ring 390 

A Philosophy for Psychoanalysts. L. E. Emerson 422 

Critical Digests 
Religion and Sex. An Account of the Erotogenetic Theory of Religion as Formulated 

by Theodore Schroeder. J. S. Van Teslaar 81 

Some Freudian Contributions to the Paranoia Problem. C. R. Payne 93, 200 


Wishf ulfillment and Symbolism in Fairy Tales. F. Riklin 102, 203, 327 

The Significance of Psychoanalysis for the Mental Sciences. O. Rank and H. Sachs, 297, 428 

Internationale Zeitschrift fiir Aertzliche Psychoanalyse. 

Vol. I, No. 5 :••. : 106 

Hate and Anal Erotic in the Compulsion Neuroses. E. Jones. 

The Symbol and the Psychical Conditions of its Formation in Children. 

The Ontogenesis of Symbols. S. Ferenczi. 
Some Remarks on the Doctrine of Tendencies. L. Jekels. 
The Psychology of Child Sexuality. V. Tausk. 

Vol. I, No. 6 228 

The Disposition to Compulsion Neurosis. A Contribution to the Problem of 

the Choice of a Neurosis. S. Freud. 
The Psychopathology of a Case of Phobia. M. Prince. 
Stuttering, — A Psychoneurosis and its Treatment by Psychoanalysis. M, D. Eder. 

Vol. H, No. I 346 

On False Recollection ("deja raconte") during Psychoanalysis. S. Freud. 
The Attitude of the Psychoanalytic Therapeutist to the Actual Conflicts. E. 

Some Clinical Observations on Paranoia and Paraphrenia. (A Contribution to 

the Psychology of " System Formation.") S. Ferenczi. 
Prof. Dr. Ernst Diirr and his Relation to Psychoanalysis. O. Pfister. 

Vol. II, No. 2 458 

Contributions to the Analysis of Sadism and Masochism. II. The Libidinous 

Sources of Masochism. P. Federn. 
On the Nosology of Male Homosexuality (Homoeroticism). S. Ferenczi. 
On the Constitutional Basis of Locomotor Anxiety. K. Abraham. 

Vol. I, No. 3 113 

Some Similarities in the Mental Life of Primitive and Neurotic People. — The 

Taboo and the Ambivalence of Emotional Excitations. S. Freud. 
Colored Audition ; An Attempt to Explain the Phenomenon on the Basis of 

Psychoanalysis. H. v. Hug-Hellmuth. 
The Cause of Chromesthesias Associated with Acoustic Impressions and the 
Meaning of Other Synesthesias. O. Pfister. 
i Symbolic Representation of the Principles of Pleasure and Reality in (Edipus 

\ Myth. S. Ferenczi. 

Contents of Volume II. — Continued 


Vol. I, No. 4 219 

Some Similarities in the Mental Life of Primitive and Neurotic People. — II. 

The Taboo and the Ambivalence of Emotional Excitations. S. Freud. 
Amenhotep IV (Echnaton). Notes on the Psychoanalytic Interpretation of his 

Personality and on the Monotheistic Cult of Aton. K. Abraham. 
The Meaning of Salt in Folklore. E. Jones. 
J. P. Jakobsen's " Niels Lyhne " and the Problem of Bisexuality. H. Blueher. 

Vol. I, No. 5 341 

The Influence of Sexual Factors on the Origin and Development of Language. 

H. Sperber. 
The Meaning of Salt in Folklore. E. Jones. 
The Psychology of Travel. A. F. v. Winterstein. 
Psychoanalytic Notes on Goethe's Wahlverwandtschaften. J. Harmik. 
Philosophy and Psychoanalysis. S. Ferenczi. 
Reply to Dr. Ferenczi. J. J. Putnam. 
Zentralblatt fiir Psychoanalyse, 

Vol. Ill, Nos. 4-5 224 

The Role of the Unconscious in the Neurosis. A. Adler. 
The Terminations of Psychoanalytic Treatments. W. Stekel. 
Changes in the Freudian School. C. Fortmuller. 
Concerning the Psychogenesis of Bronchial Asthma. M. Wulff. 
Zentralblatt fiir Psychoanalyse und Psychotherapie. 

Vol. Ill, Nos. 6^7 226 

Psychoanalysis and Philosophy. J. Putnam. 

Analytic Remarks on the Painting of a Schizophrenic. H. Rorschach. 

The Condition of " Being Possessed " in the Rural Districts of Russia. M. 

Terminations of Psychoanalytic Treatments. W. Stekel. 

Vol. Ill, Nos. &-9 465 

Our Understanding of the Mental Connections in the Neuroses and Freud's and 

Adler's Theories. O. Hinrichsen. 
Concerning the Fundamental Characteristics and Aims of Present Day Ration- 
alistic Psychotherapy. W. M. Lichnitzky. 
Content and Terminological Justification of the Term Psychoanalysis. F. Gruner. 
Progress of Dream Interpretation. W. Stekel. 

Vol. Ill, Nos. lo-ii 465 

Concerning the Treatment of Stuttering. E. Froschels. 
A Psychological Contribution to the Question of Alcoholism. J. Birstein. 
The Question of Genesis and Therapy of Anxiety-Neurosis by Means of the 
Combined Psychoanalytic Method. U. A. Wyrubow. 

Vol. Ill, No. 12 466 

Psychotherapy and the Philosophy of Schopenhauer. O. Juuusburger. 
Dream and Dream Interpretation. A. Adler. 
Disguises of Religiosity. W. Stekel. 

Miscellaneous Abstracts 
Die Ambivalenz, von Prof. Dr. E. Bleuler 466 

Book Reviews 

Psychoanalysis. Its Theories and Practical Application, by A. A. Brill 118 

Love and the Soul-Maker, by Mary E. Austin 233 

The Skeleton in the Closet, by Clarence S. Darrow 235 

Dreams and Mylhs, by Dr. Karl Abraham 236 

A Text-Book of Insanity and Other Mental Diseases, by Charles Arthur Mercier 238 

The Myth of the Birth of the Hero. A Psychological Interpretation of Mythology, 

by 0. Rank 354 

The Origin and Nature of the Emotions, by George W. Crile 355 

Psychology and Parenthood, by H. Addington Bruce 356 

The Individual Delinquent ; A Text-Book of Diagnosis and Prognosis for All Concerned 

in Understanding Offenders, by William Healy 469 

Ecce Deus. Studies of Primitive Christianity, by William Benjamin Smith 472 

Sleep and Sleeplessness, by H. Addington Bruce 475 


Ceremonial Consummation, by Elsie Clews Parsons 358 

Sex Values, Extract from The New Machiavelli, by H. G. Wells 359 

Dreams, Extract from Protagoras the Humanist, Papyri of Philonous 360 

Marriage and the Will to Power, by Elsie Clews Parsons 477 

One of Our Conquerors : A Study of Repression, by V. H. Mottram 478 

The Harlequin of Dreams, by Sidney Lanier 480 

^be Journal 


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Critical Historical Review of Reil's Rhapsodieen. By William A. White 1 

The Family Form of Pseudo-sclerosis and Other Conditions Attributed to the Len- 
ticular Nucleus. By William G. Spiller 23 

Speech Conflict — A Natural Consequence in Cosmopolitan Cities — As an Etiological 
Factor in Stuttering. A Preliminary Report Based on 200 Cases. By May Kirk 
Scripture and Otto Glogau 37 


American Neurological Association , 47 

The Development and Operation of the Laws for Hospital Observation of Cases of 
Alleged Mental Disease or Defect in Massachusetts (Stedman) ; Preliminary Report 

• on the Treatment of Paresis by Injections of Salvarsan and Definite Doses of Neo- 
salvarsan into the Lateral Ventricle (Hammond and Sharp) ; A Case of Wilson's 
Disease — Progressive Lenticular Degeneration — with Pathological Findings (Tilney 
and Mackenzie) ; Histopathological Findings in a Case of Landry's Paralysis ; Dem- 
onstrated by Lantern Slides and Microphotographs (Fisher) ; Observations on 
Hereditary Syphilis Affecting the Nervous System (Camp) ; Circumscribed Puru- 
lent Meningitis Limited to Frontal Lobe; Due to Sinusitis (Leopold) ; Meningitis 
Sympathica (Strauss) ; A Case of Central and Peripheral Neurofibromatosis (von 
Recklinghausen's Disease) (Bassoe and Nuzum) ; A Frequency List of Mental 
Symptoms found in 17,000 Institutional Psychopathic Subjects (Danvers State Hos- 
pital, Massachusetts) (Southard). 

Philadelphia Neurological Society 57 

Cerebellar Diplegia (Cadwalader) ; Arterio-sclerosis with Symptoms Resembling 
Pseudo-bulbar Palsy of Gradual Onset (Price) ; Famihal Myoclonus (Rhein) ; 
Multiple Sarcoma of Brain (Rhein) ; Regeneration of Peripheral Nerves (Green- 
man) ; The Psychology of Stammering (Makuen). 


Vegetative Neurology: The Anatomy, Physiology, Pharmodynamics and Pathology of 

the Sympathetic and Autonomic Systems. By Heinrich Higier 73 

The Dream Problem. By Dr. A. E. Maeder 81 


Jahrbiicher fiir Psychiatric und Neurologie. (Vol. 34, parts i and 2.) Study of the 
Histories of German Brain-Pathology ; Korsakow's Psychosis in Japan ; Daily Variations 
in the Electrical Conductivity of the Human Body; Involution Phenomenon in Cases 
with the Clinical Picture of Brain Tumor ; The Influence of Political Events in Mental 
Disorders ; Dystrophy Adiposus-genitalis in Chronic Hydrocephalus and in Epilepsy ; 
Changes in the Official Diagnosis Plan for Insane Institutions (92). 

Review of Neurology and Psychiatry. (Vol. XII, No. 7.) A Case of Amaurotic 
Family Idiocy; The Action of Adrenalin and Epinine on the Pupil in Epilepsy (93). 

Archiv fiir Psychiatric und Nervenkrankheiten. (Band 52, Heft i.) Recent Syphilis 
Investigation and Neuropathology; A Contribution to the Study of Aphasia, with 
Special Reference to Amnesic Aphasia ; The Distribution of Fiber Degeneration in 
Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, with Special Reference to Changes in the Cerebrum ; 
Clinical and Anatomical Contribution to the Study of the Occlusion of the Posterior 
Inferior Cerebellar Artery; Heredity in the Psychoses (94). (Heft 2.) Contributions 
to the Pathological, Anatomical and Clinical Study of Cerebral Hemorrhagic Pachy- 
meningitis ; Heredity in the Psychoses ; The Failure of the Corneal Reflex in Organic 
Nervous Disease ; Family Cortical Spasm ; Pathological Anatomy and Pathogenesis of 
Granular Ependymitis (95). (Heft 3.) A Retrospect in Connection with the Twenty- 
fifth Jubilee of Prof. Dr. Emil Sioli as Director of the Frankfurt Insane Hospital; 
The Cerebrum of the Rabbit ; Psychoneuroses in Heart Disease ; The Anti-Social Actions 
of Epileptic Children; The Use of Pyrogenetic Methods in Psychiatry; A Contribution 
to Operative Treatment of Epilepsy ; A Contribution to the Mistaken Diagnosis of 
Hysteria ; On Supernumerary Phalanges ; Dementia Paralytica Among the Jews ; A 
Case of Motor Apraxia ; Association Experiments in Young Epileptics ; A Contribution 
to Our Knowledge of Mental Disturbances in Eclampsia; Clinical Diagnosis and Patho- 
logical Findings in General Paralysis ; The Significance of Lowy's Phenomenon in the 
Diagnosis of Cerebral Arteriosclerosis; Psychic Disturbances During Labor (96). 


The Ethical Implications of Bergson's Philosophy (100). Psychology, General and Applied 
(loi). Mental Medicine and Nursing (102). Progressivism — and After (103). Syrian 
Anatomy, Pathology, and Therapeutics; or. The Book of Medicines (104).