University of Virginia Library

THE JOURNAL OF ABNORMAL PSYCHOLOGY

SCIENTIFIC METHOD IN THE INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS[*]
WITH A THEORY TO EXPLAIN THE DREAM-PROCESS AS APPERCEPTIVE TRIAL-AND-ERROR.

LYDIARD H. HORTON

HISTORICALLY speaking, dreams have always been credited with meanings; but, in a given case, the psychologist must ask, how far does the accredited meaning represent the mere fancy of the interpreted and how far does it mirror actual conditions in the dreamer's mind. To seek aught beyond these is but idle divination. For of all dreams it is true, in the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson, "that the reason for them is always latent in the individual." "Things are significant enough, Heaven knows;" he exclaims, "but the seer of the sign,—where is he?"[1]

Not till the last year of the nineteenth century, did an answer come; it was Sigmund Freud's work, "The Interpretation of Dreams," which said, in effect, "Here am I, in Vienna."[2]

THE FREUDIAN PRETENSIONS

"In the following pages," he begins, "I shall prove that there exists a psychological technique by which dreams may be interpreted and that upon the application of this method every dream will show itself to be a senseful psychological structure which may be introduced into an assignable place in the psychic activities of the waking state."

The sweeping character of this pretension has not been justified. The demonstration has succeeded only with that large class of dreams in which there happens to be a trend of infantile reminiscence and of disguised sexual phantasy. It fails to reveal the inner nature of other kinds of dreams or the modus operandi of dreaming as a process of thinking. And while it is asserted by the publishers of the English[3] edition that the main contentions of his book have never been refuted, the fact is that his thesis has not been accepted by the representatives of scientific psychology, as a solution of the problem.

The exponents of Freudian interpretations today are medical men associated with the practice of so-called "Psycho-analysis;" which means that they are more concerned to apply Freud's ideas for the treatment of nervous ailments than to cultivate pure psychology. An examination of the methods they exemplify in individual practice and in the large literature of the psycho-analytic movement shows sufficient reason, in my view, why the psycho-analytic theory of dreams should still be greeted with skepticism. Psycho-analysts tell us that repugnance for the subject-matter has delayed acceptance of their essentially sexual interpretations. But there is also a resistance based on sound logical criticism. Judged by this standard, Freud's theory appears dangerously inaccurate and needs revision.

THE TWO SCHOOLS OF PSYCHO-ANALYSIS

Dr. C. G. Jung, formerly a pupil and literal follower of Freud, is attempting to reform psycho-analytic doctrine from within the fold.[4] Incidentally, he tells us that there is nothing essentially novel about the technique of investigating the dream in Psycho-analysis. It copies the methods of historical and literary criticism and consists in collecting all the data possible about each item of the dream. These are then called the dream material. What seems to me novel and characteristic is the psycho-analytic method of working up this material into an interpretation by a process of inference. Freud and Jung are today no longer in agreement as to the details of this process.[5] Speaking of the

interpretations of these authorities, on the basis of extended investigations of dreams on my own part, I must say that their methods do not seem to be as rigorous, as is required today in the investigation of literary and historical problems, nor capable of bearing comparison with experimental psychology.

It must be acknowledged, however, that Freud has infinitely refined the guesses of earlier generations of thinkers as to the relationship of sleep-fancies to the waking life. He has conferred startling precision upon the general proposition of Goethe "that these whimsical pictures, inasmuch as they originate from us, may well have an analogy with our whole life and fate." And he has certainly vindicated in practice that dictum of Emerson: "A skilful man reads dreams for his self-knowledge."[1] But he has formulated no open-sesame, as psycho-analysts proclaim.

When it comes to the use of symbols, the Viennese professor parts company with the Concord philosopher. The latter, as we know, decried the mystical conception of fixed symbolism in any domain. But Freud, although theoretically agreed, falls victim in practice to the fascinations of the dream-book cipher method which he has condemned. The adjective Freudian is now justly a by-word, among psychopathologists, for a stereotyped habit of reducing each item of a dream to some cryptic allusion or roundabout reference to the primitive demands of the infantile and sexual life. Freud's fertility in such interpretations has led one of our best-known experimental psychologists to say, in mingled admiration and impatience: "His utterances are those of a poet, not of a scientist."

JUNG'S COURAGEOUS RECANTATION

As spokesman of the Zürich group of psycho-analysts, Dr. Jung has lately protested against these arbitrary translations, which he calls Freud's "reductive method."[6] In formulating a more scientific method of his own, which he calls the "constructive method," Jung reveals a change of views so extensive as to suggest, on several points, almost a conversion to the ideas that Dr. Morton Prince expressed

in 1910, as to the insecurity of the psycho-analytic ideas of symbolism.[7] At that time, Jung valiantly defended the Freudian preference for stereotyped meanings as against the Principian idea of highly variable meanings.[8] Now, in going to the other extreme from Freud's cipher-like method, Jung has succumbed to the attractions of that other popular method, equally decried by his former master: the symbolical method of Joseph and Daniel.[9] But at least he has bravely called in question views which he once espoused with exaggerated positiveness.

Jung's principal amendment to the Freudian dream-analysis consists in subjecting the literal implications of the established Freudian symbols, such as snakes and staircases, to a further, more allegorical mode of treatment in which the sexual meaning is greatly altered. The evidence, which Freudians continually find in dreams, for a pre-occupation concerning infantile and sexual needs[10] is explained away, as merely incidental reviewing of past experiences, in the attempt to solve problems of the future by analogy with the past. In other ways also Jung alters his views, notably by following Prince in explaining the dream on a broad biological foundation, viewing it as part and parcel of the individual's life-struggle. Yet it is difficult to see wherein the so-called constructive method really applies, to the concrete dream, those biological conceptions of which it makes ostentation. The practical consideration of telling the patient what is good for him, and of keeping sexuality in the background seems to dominate the technique.[6] The interpretations are no more accurate than before. There is not much to choose between the reductive and the constructive method from the standpoint of the application of logic.

THE SUPPOSED LANGUAGE OF DREAMS

These reductions and constructions of the psychoanalytic schools appear to be rather favorite ways of guessing than rival scientific methods. Unquestionably, they must achieve a gratifying number of hits under the easygoing conditions of the psycho-analytic seance. This is obviously satisfactory to medical practice; but the danger

to psychological theory lies in the temptation to overvalue the particular technique that seems to bring about such successes. For instance, Freud and Jung, finding it convenient to assume that the dreamer is attempting to express his latent thoughts by the use of metaphors and figures of speech, have unfortunately come to regard the behavior of the Unconscious Mind as if it were employing a secret archaic code or language of dreams. According to Freud, its symbols have very concrete meanings; Jung, more liberal, says they are only very general. But both authors seem to abuse the language-analogy as a guidance in dream interpretation. That is why psycho-analytic method today suggests not only the free play of poetic invention, but the license of mystical speculation.

If there is any present point in Emerson's remark that "Mysticism consists in the mistake of an accidental and occasional symbol for an universal one," then, in speaking to the psycho-analyst, the psychologist should echo Emerson further, and say: "Let us have a little algebra instead of this trite rhetoric—universal signs instead of these village symbols—and we shall both be gainers."[11]

The reason we shall need a little algebra, as it were, is that many psycho-analysts have fallen into confused ways of regarding their signs and significations.

Consider, for example, the reputed signs of the birth-phantasy, as listed by Freud:[12]

"A large number of dreams, often full of fear, which are concerned with passing through narrow spaces or with staying in the water, are based upon fancies about the embryonic life, about the sojourn in the mother's womb and about the act of birth." . . . Again, "There are dreams about landscapes and localities in which the emphasis is laid upon the assurance, `I have been there before.' In this case the locality is always the genital organ of the mother; it can be asserted with such certainty of no other locality that one has `been there before.' "

(What we should infer from the waking illusion of familiarity, which, Emerson said "almost every person confesses"—on this basis—is too absurd to contemplate.)

Statements like these, though far from syllogistic in

form, are virtually general propositions or laws to the effect that all dreams having the designated earmarks or manifest content, possess additionally and necessarily certain specified qualities in the latent content—in this case, the meaning of birth-phantasy.[13]

Freud and Jung have stood sponsors for many such seemingly far-fetched interpretations. How do they come to be so sure of their ground?

EXAMINATION OF THE LANGUAGE-ANALOGY[14]

Let A represent the idea in the latent content and C the corresponding "symbol" in the manifest content. Suppose that in a number of cases a correlation is observed between A, the antecedent latent idea, and C, its consequent or sequential manifestation in the dream-consciousness. Thereafter, the observer comes to interpret the re-appearance of C in a dream narrative as a sign of the presence of the affiliated idea A, in the latent content. And, as Thomas Hobbes phrased the matter in 1651, the oftener they have been observed in like connection, the less uncertain is the sign.[15] Now this is precisely the way we come to recognize the verbal signs of our mother-tongue. And our confidence that a given speech C' is significant of a meaning A', in the speaker's intent, is arrived at by relying upon, if not consciously formulating, just such a causal connection. Where an existing language is concerned, this is a perfectly legitimate tooling of thought. But in applying such inferences to a supposititious language of dreams, psycho-analysts are begging the question, as well as running into other kinds of fallacy as to the powers of the Unconscious.

The meanings and significations of dream-items are not so simply made out as in language. For one cannot readily make sure that the relationship or affiliation between A and C has been observed in its purity; there is an uncertainty coming from the possible interposition of a variable factor, which may have vitiated the observation, as Alfred Sidgwick points out in his "Application of Logic."[10] So let us well consider the basis of any inference of meaning in dreams, and how far the language-analogy applies.

THE SOURCES OF MEANING

Fundamentally, every dream, yours or mine, consists of certain more or less clearly remembered images or ideas; and these are secondarily derived from some mental disposition previously or coetaneously acting in the background, as it were: i. e., persisting through its residual subliminal nervous dispositions. This anterior phenomenon is properly called the primary idea or image; the other, which appears (supraliminally) in the dream is called the secondary image or idea. The dream is thus made up of collocations and combinations of secondary images, to which is usually added a filling-in of fancy which may be called tertiary ideas: required, to find the primary ideas and so, the relation of one idea to another—which is the measure of "meaning."

Each secondary or tertiary image, in the absence of any immediate stimulus to account for it, may usually be traced back into a primary train of thought left unfinished during the day. This is the conception of the perseveration of the unadjusted, stated in 1891 by Delage, in giving his theory of dreams.[17] Its history runs back to Thomas Hobbes; and it has been amplified lately by Professor Woodworth, to whom I am indebted for unusually clean-cut illustrations of the applicability of the theory to dream-life. The principle is a most important contribution to the study of meaning in dreams.

More specifically, Prince, through his text-book on "The Unconscious," is the exponent of the idea that the elements of meaning reside in the primary ideas and must be sought there by highly specific investigations in the given case: "the meaning is in the fringe of thought." The meaning of a supraliminal image must be discovered in its relation to the subliminal ideas clustering around it. This implies studying by association-tests what James called the psychic overtones, and what Prince has, in his teaching, called the unconscious settings-of-ideas, which determine meaning.[18] Care must be taken to find the real determinants, and to set aside spurious dream material—which is not always facilitated by the psycho-analytic methods.

In order to show that one should not assume meanings

by rule of thumb, without investigations of this kind, Prince has demonstrated a case in which typical phallic symbols, in a phobia of bells and towers, had acquired their emotional meanings, not through sexual analogies, as Freudians would suppose, but through actual contiguity-experience with church bells and belfry, quite apart from sexual matters.[18] Similarly, snakes, sticks, circles do not necessarily carry the sexual meanings assumed by psycho-analysts, who are over-influenced by the language-analogy.

DECISIVE VALUE OF CONTEXT AND APPERCEPTION MASS

To Freudians such statements seem paradoxical, to say the least; but the simple fact is that never is it correct to assume, as they do, a transcendental connection between a symbol C and a signification A, as if the Unconscious Mind disposed of ready-made symbols of its own. Barring words used in their proper sense, and similar borrowings from waking habit, the so-called symbols in dreams are essentially impromptu fabrications, in which the association is not a direct causal connection between A and C, but a mediate association involving a third element, which psycho-analysts usually leave out of account.

An element of this kind, overlooked in the formulation of a supposedly simple connection between cause A and effect C, is labeled Hidden Z, by Alfred Sedgwick. The Hidden Z in this case is what James calls the topic-of-thought, Ebbinghaus the set-of-the-mind, and others apperception-mass. In rhetoric it is familiar as context. It has an important place in thought and speech. For example, when I utter the phrase—Pas de lieu Rhône qne nous—the idea obtained is different according to whether your language apperception-mass is set for French or for English. It may have happened that while I was uttering the French nonsense phrase you were hearing it as the English saying. Similarly, the traveler in Egypt may correctly apperceive the meaning of architectural forms of temples as phallic; whereas it would be manifestly out of context to do so in connection with churchly edifices of the Gothic type, which

do not represent the generative powers of nature, as do the former.

Conversely, the Freudian disciple may apperceive, in error, a sexual meaning in a dream, when the dreamer's mind contained no reference to this topic. Hence, the interpreter must make sure that his own apperception-mass is attuned to that of the dreamer in the given case. That is, one must be free from apperceptive bias. One must reject all hastily formed causal laws to the effect that C is the sign of A in every case. Otherwise absurd conclusions must result, as in Freud's theory of the birth-phantasies. For the same "symbol" may proceed from entirely different significations according to the set-of-the-mind or apperception-mass. The following analogy of Ebbinghaus puts the matter clearly: "When a train enters a large station there are many paths over which it might pass; but its actual path depends on the position which was given to the switches immediately before the train's arrival."[19] That is why one needs to detect, experimentally, the dream material that really represents the set-of-the-mind, and thence the significant relations called meaning.

In this connection, I published a year ago the dream of a child of six, containing seemingly typical phallic symbols.[20] Not one of them could be correlated with a sexual context; but every one was concretely shown to have reached its position in the dream through the influence of an entirely different set-of-the-mind. It is, therefore, not safe to assume stereotyped meanings in dreams.

METAPHYSICAL CONCEPTIONS IN PSYCHO-ANALYSIS

There are three reasons why psycho-analysts do not more often encounter this variable element, this Hidden Z. First, such dreams as they elect to deal with, are mostly sexual. Second, they do not apply the methods of individual differences which have been made so familiar and so useful by Professor Cattell in this country.[38] Thirdly, their type of culture leads them to study the dream extensively

rather than intensively and all the while in apparent disregard of those conceptions of physiological psychology which we now associate with the work of Wundt, of Ladd and of Woodworth, and with the psychopathology of Prince.

To be sure, Jung's recent utterances before the Psycho-Medical Society of London, demonstrate his dissatisfaction with the Freudian conception of the dream; but he is still far from those studies of specific mental and nervous dispositions to which psychology has slowly come, and for which we now have a tool in the shape of Prince's conception of the neurogram. In psycho-analytic work a more vague use of "dream material" is preferred and it is only by good luck that the real settings-of-ideas come into account. Jung, no less than Freud, has forgotten that philosophy has become mechanistic since Descartes'[21] famous year of 1637, and Jung would throw us back to the early seventeenth century, with his energic conception of the Libido, or the Ur-libido, now called Hormé and sometimes merely élan vital. And this, fifty years after Herbert Spencer's tremendous emphasis on specific studies in reflex-action![22]

Fontenelle, the wittiest of Cartesians, writing in 1686, gives us a classic tableau of this sort of speculative temper.[23] He pictures worthies like Pythagoras, Heraclitus; Empedocles, as being invited to witness Lulli's opera "Phaeton," at the Paris Odeon. In characteristic fashion, each in turn tries to explain the spectacular aerial flight of the actor in the title-rôle, from the floor of the stage to the ceiling. One says, that Phaeton is able to fly by the potency of certain numbers of which he is composed; another, that a secret virtue carries him aloft; still another, that Phaeton travels through the air because he abhors to leave a vacuum in the upper corner of the stage; and so on, with a hundred and one speculations which, as Fontenelle remarks, should have ruined the reputation of antiquity. Finally, he pictures Descartes coming along and saying: "This actor is able to rise from the floor because he hangs by a cord, at the other end of which is a counterpoise, heavier than he, which is descending." This is mechanistic . . . If Freud and Jung had been of the party, can it be doubted that the one would have ascribed Phaeton's aviation to a wish-fulfilment

of the flying-dream type, derived from a reminiscence of erotic motion-pleasure[24] in childhood, or that Jung, for his part, would have said Phaeton was levitated by the energic force of a sublimation of the Ur-Libido, alias élan vital, alias Hormé!

VARIETIES OF DREAM INTERPRETATIONS

Let me illustrate these points of criticism of the psychoanalytic methods, by the analysis of a sample dream; speaking first as the dreamer giving the simple narrative; next as Freud applying the reductive method; then as Jung employing the constructive method; and finally explaining the dream, as I would myself prefer, by the use of what I may call the reconstitutive method. The dream itself, for reasons, that will be obvious, I call the "Scratch-Reflex Dream."

"I was looking down upon a microscope from the right side of the lens-tube, and could see, laid upon the stage, a glass slide. Under the cover-glass, in place of an ordinary specimen, there was supposed to be a new reflex,—one of those discovered by my friend the neurologist, Dr. X., whose scrawly handwriting I recognized on the label. I was anxiously trying to decipher what he had written, and was having the same trouble with it that I had experienced in real life with the record of some of his dreams, which I had interpreted successfully. The handwriting on the label, as I gazed, appeared less and less like script and more like disconnected, scratchy lines or hachures, owing to the formation of lacunae in the inky traces. It became scratchier and scratchier as I wakened. On coming to my senses . . . "

"That is enough," we hear Dr. Freud saying, "It is obvious what kind of reflex-action you have in mind! The word `slide' is of a punning nature, and in conjunction with the easy moveability of the microscope-barrel suggests a meaning akin to that of dreams of skating and sliding, which are usually sexual. From the standpoint of symbolics, the geometric forms and relative positions of cover-glass and microscope suggest allusions to the generative powers of

nature—like the phallicism of the ancient Egyptian religion, whose sacred emblems of sexual objects still confront the explorer and the tourist. Here, the `stage' of the microscope refers obviously to the theatre, so often the scene of exhibitionistic activities. Your dream represents the male and the female principles in such a manner that it must mean a survival of infantile curiosity related to the mystery of parenthood. Sir, this proves your Libido to have been fixated at the `voyeur' level."[25]

"Not so fast," says Dr. Jung, while the dreamer remains nonplussed at the foregoing example of the reductive method. "It is not good for the health to overvalue the past, as my colleague does. Nous avons changé tout cela, in Zurich. Your curiosity, according to the constructive method, is a demand for satisfaction in new and better ways than those of infancy. I will prove this to be so, by an investigation of the dream material. This Dr. X., what of him and his handwriting?"

The dreamer then explains that Dr. X. had consented to have his dreams analyzed, and that the outcome had been the uncovering of his secret intention to be married; the dreamer also states that Dr. X. had written some very original papers on periosteal reflexes.

"Ah," says Dr. Jung, as it were, making quotations from his own writings, (as indicated in italics) "one has only to hear this dream material in order to understand at once that the dream is not so much the fulfilment of infantile desires as it is the expression of biological duties hitherto neglected because of . . . infantilism.[6] To be sure these are sexual objects that you are looking at in the dream, as Freud would have it. But your interest in them is not so primitive as it would seem. For do you not, symbolically speaking, `look down upon' them in your fancy. And moreover, since you are looking at these emblems of parental union `from the right side,' does it not therefore mean that you are contemplating something legitimate; namely, marriage on your own account—not exhibitionism on the part of others. One infers you wish to put away childish sex-curiosity and fulfil your destiny as a parent. In this case symbolical value, not concrete value must be attached to the sexual phantasy."

At this point, the dreamer makes free to admit that he is a bachelor, and that he would not be averse to marriage if he could manage to take a wife and at the same time keep up his research work.

"Precisely," Dr. Jung might say, rapidly turning these clues to account, "your interest in future advancement is clearly reflected in your anxiety to decipher the handwriting of Dr. X., with whom you have identified yourself. You desire to emulate his scientific achievements; his published work on reflexes excites your ambition. The handwriting on the label, which perplexes you, is an allusion not only to his authorship but to the difficulties in the way of your own contribution to the science of dream interpretation. By imitating Dr. X's triumph you wish to make your marriage possible. Your Hormé or élan vital is pushing you to evolve new and higher forms of the Libido. You are sublimating!"[26]

THE RECONSTITUTIVE METHOD

"No, gentlemen," the dreamer replies at last, "your reductions and your constructions are too easy-going, too conjectural, too much dominated by prepossessions and the `will to interpret.' The alleged sources or determinants for this dream may or may not have played the parts you assign to them; the mystery of the matter must remain inscrutable. But what your methods, so plausible in effect, certainly do show is how easy it may be to confabulate an explanation that goes no deeper than a phrenological reading of cranial bumps or than a séance in the cabinet of a palmist. Let us turn away from all this and consider what really happened, as by the grace of luck I can bear witness. Permit me to reconstitute the dream as an actual event, by the employment of certain clues which I was about to give when the ready-made symbolism of Dr. Freud was interposed."

OUTLINE OF THE RECONSTITUTION

Inasmuch as the dream is one of my own, I may be permitted to testify that it was unmistakably connected with a scratching sensation at my ear, as I distinctly perceived on awaking. This stimulation proceeded obviously

from a mouse, which I had time to observe in close proximity, as it remained perched on the bedclothes, until my own startled movements put it to flight. Tracing the stimulation from this external source, I shall try to maintain the following interpretation:—

First, that the dream is an associative reaction to the sensation of scratching, in the form of evocations of imagery related in experience to this sensory element; and that the dream-process was a part of the perception, or recognition or apperception of the stimulus.

Second, that this reaction—let us name it apperception of the stimulus—took place slowly and imperfectly, owing to the state of sleep, so that the reaction was, to begin with, only remotely relevant to the stimulus, but improved in relevancy with successive evocations, until the mental representation closely approximated the character of the stimulus.

Third, that in and among the secondary images[27] so evoked, incidental processes of thought, tertiary compoundings of these images, were immediately set up; the selection and re-arrangement of these secondary and tertiary features, constituting the revelation of a significant state of mind which had preceded the dream.

Specifically, in addition to the mental response to the external stimulus, there was a phantasy representing an imaginary wish-fulfilment: namely the desire to forsake the study of histology, with the eye-straining search through the microscope, in favor of the study of reflex-action or reflexology.

My contention is that this blended response[28] to a physical and to a psychic cue arose very naturally and simply out of a single context, prepared by events of the night before; and I would show that by comparing the phantasy with this context, it is possible to reconstitute the dream in a way that amounts to a refutation of the two other interpretations, which I have essayed in accordance with the methods of Freud and of Jung, respectively.

THE REAL CONTEXT OF THE DREAM

Our constant consideration should be for the fact, emphasized by William James, that there is "no recall

without a cue."[29] Here we have a scratching sensation provoked by a mouse as the immediate and demonstrated cue. The images that followed in serial response, proved upon investigation to have been wholly derived from a certain conversation with Dr. X., the night before. The subject had been reflex-action and especially the scratch-reflex of the guinea-pig[30] as investigated by Sherrington; we had discussed also the attempts of other authors to explain the higher mental functions in terms of reflex-action.[31] My own preference for such studies as applied to the explanation of dreams had been touched upon. This preference had in turn been contrasted with the fact that I was at the time of the dream called upon to spend much time studying histological specimens through the microscope. Incidentally, I told him that this was bad for my eyes, and likewise, I had complained that his dreams were not written out clearly enough to suit my purpose to study them carefully. Such interest had been aroused in the subject of reflexology, that Dr. X. and I had stayed up late that night discussing it.

A study of the dream in the light of these facts will show how perfectly the dreaming mind appears to have "taken advantage of" them—in reality following cues along the lines of least resistance.

THE DREAM AS A RESPONSE TO A CUE

The Scratch-Reflex dream is then to be reconstituted first of all as a memory-reaction determined by factors of recency, frequency and intensity in the dreamer's experience. The operation of these factors determines the evocation of a specific context or apperception-mass, namely the conversation in question, whose affinity with the external stimulus (scratching) is now made evident. The course of events can be followed so concretely as to permit the logical exclusion of other supposed determinants; confining the explanation as stated. The principle of the parsimony of causes is here applied. I contend that the dream is neither an infantile nor a sexual wish-fulfilment, all plausible analogies to the contrary notwithstanding. Should anyone wish to urge the more remote interpretations which I first manufactured,

then the burden of proof rests with him. And no proof is conclusive that rests on mere precedent or on mere reasoning by analogy. The only psychological proof of an interpretation is fundamentally the ability of the interpreter to reconstitute the dream beyond peradventure. This I propose to accomplish more in detail, showing the dream to be a reaction to specific cues, through a process of trial-and-error, and to a limited degree, of trial and success.

TRIAL PERCEPTS

Consider the sequence of events: the dream pictures are all related, at least individually, to the conversation in question: microscope, slide, reflex and "scratchiness" are all so many pictures jig-sawed out from this very context or apperception-mass. The scratching sensation, we must suppose, evoked these pictures serially, in the order stated. If these images were what the psychologist calls "trial percepts," we would expect from them just what we do find, namely, an increasing degree of correspondence (relevancy) between the stimulus-idea and the images, as they appear.[33] Precisely so, the images of microscope, slide, reflex and scratchy handwriting, as they successively come into focus, conform more and more to the nature of the stimulus, until the approximation ends in the idea of an all-absorbing interest in "scratchy" marks. This visual image hardly reaches precision before it becomes translated and transposed to the tactile field of my ear; smoothly, as if it were one magic lantern view dissolving into another. In fine, the presentation of each image in the dream amounts to a groping effort of the dreamer's nervous system to find a proper experiential equivalent for the arriving stimulus. It is a trial-and-error method of perceiving or apperceiving a stimulus by marshelling associated ideas; in this case they are serially evoked; (what might be called "oniric echelon"); in other cases the trial apperceptions are blended smoothly (oniric fusion) or heaped together in rough-and-tumble fashion, a kind of confusion (conveniently called "oniric entassement") which testifies sufficiently to the failures of the Unconscious t o dispose smoothly of arriving excitations, and so emphasizes; the theory of trial-and-error, as applied to dreams.

APPERCEPTIVE DELAY IN TRIAL-AND-ERROR PROCESS

The delay in arriving at the correct apperception of the stimulus may be referred to as "finding-time" or simply as apperceptive delay. It represents time occupied with the reproduction of erroneous apperceptive images—apperceptive errors. Meanwhile the stimulus-idea, that mental element most closely connected with the original stimulus, is operating somewhere in the brain, determining the evocation of the secondary images that appear in the dream.[33] This wire-pulling is done in the dark; the primary stimulus-idea is not itself imaged, at first; neither is the context or apperception-mass which meets it half-way, that is, becomes conjoined with the stimulus-idea. Indeed, the images that come into the dream are only emerging peaks of a submerged island of memory. What shall emerge is determined by the interplay of stimulus-idea and apperception-mass, below the level of consciousness. (A and Z are working together.)

The particular "island of memory" in this case, was an impression of the talk with Dr. X., about histology, reflexology and dream interpretation; it remained subliminal, evidently, except so far as portions of it were raised above the threshold by the reproductive energy of the stimulus of scratching. Necessarily, a process of imageless thought had taken place, whereby the conversation was brought into play as a sub-excited apperception-mass or setting-of-ideas for the stimulus-idea. Furthermore, another process of imageless thought must have taken place whereby the secondary images being raised into consciousness attained to their arrangement as a wish-phantasy, without that preliminary tuning-up which the principal cue (scratching) called forth, on its own account. This remains to be explained.

THE INCIDENTAL WISH-FULFILMENT

The dream, viewed as a mere wish-fulfilment, is plainly a successful allegory. While the action of the principal cue or immediate stimulus had served to evoke the apperception-mass or context out of which this wish-phantasy was constructed,

at the same moment, there was an ulterior influence at work, dictating a process of re-arrangement of the secondary images, so as to give expression to my preference for reflexology as against histology. Besides, the ground appears to have already been so well prepared that we can readily explain the absence of evident signs of trial-and-error. For in dreaming that I look away from the microscope and turn with intensive interest to the reflex, I was still only giving effect to a preference which had already attached the emotions of liking and dislike, to these two objects of thought, respectively. The creative fancy in this instance, what Hobbes[34] called the fiction of the mind, has a very simple task to work upon: achieving the imaginary satisfaction of unadjusted feelings regarding the mental conflict between histology and reflexology. The microscope is accordingly reproduced naively with an "endeavor fromward" attached to it, and likewise the reflex, with an "endeavor toward" it.[39] Thus is the expression completed of a wish which had been partially outspoken in the conversation with Dr. X.

While the external physical stimulus (scratching) must be thought of as being represented dynamically somewhere in the arrival platforms of the brain, it is necessary to think of the internal psychic stimulus (or wish) as existing in the form of facilitations, or ready-made connections of ideas and motives, as it were awaiting, in a state of mobilization, the proper signal to discharge into consciousness. The expression of the wish thus became accessory to the apperception of the principal cue. The accessory wish-cue wrought its

effect coetaneously, during the apperceptive delay.

Granted the correctness of this explanation, does it not clearly conform to the statement of Emerson that "dreams are the maturation often of opinions not consciously carried out to statements, but whereof we already possessed the elements."[40]

THE PERSEVERATION OF THE UNADJUSTED

In the foregoing words of Emerson, there is brought to bear on dreams an energic conception of mind-action similar to that which Hobbes had developed in his Leviathan in 1651. The latter, by analogy with conceptions of mechanical inertia new in his time, had compared the persevering effect of nervous stimuli to the continued agitation of waves of the sea after a storm: "When a body is once in motion, it moveth, unless something else hinder it, eternally; and whatsoever hindreth it, cannot in an instant, but in time, quite extinguish it; and as we see in water, though the wind cease, the waves give not over rolling for a long time after: so also it happeneth in that motion, which is made in the internal parts of man, then, when he sees, dreams, et cetera." (Cap. II)

The Delage-Woodworth conception that dreams are due to persevering effects of unadjusted mental elements is not, therefore, entirely novel; but is itself a maturing of opinions which have been more or less loosely entertained by writers on dreams since Hobbes first formulated the modern doctrine of the association of ideas,—not to go back any further. The fertility of the conception of the "perseveration of the unadjusted" has been emphasized in my mind by illustrations obtained by an extended study of the dreams of normal people, and notably, by the agreement of my conclusions with those of Professor Woodworth and of Dr. Morton Prince. And I am led to believe that a development of this conception should harmonize with accepted principles of psychology, normal and abnormal, as formulated in Ladd and Woodworth's text-book, and in Prince's "The Unconscious."

Greater precision must be conferred upon this conception by showing specifically in what ways, and by what associative mechanisms, the persevering and unadjusted stimuli evoke the dream-images. Granting that unadjusted stimuli persist in their effects upon dream life, or in other terms, that primary stimulus-ideas may evoke secondary dream-images, and so on unto the third and fourth "generations;" then, in what manner does the process go on or come to an end? The answer to this question is an eminently practical one, to which Psycho-analysis has already brought the complication of its own still immature formulation of Ab-reaction and of Catharsis.[35] The matter still requires further study. In particular, it is necessary to formulate, through specific examples, a conception which shall be the pendant or complement of the theory of the perseveration of the unadjusted, and which I will call the "resolution of the unadjusted."

Already, I have taken the preliminary steps in this direction by adopting the physiological conception of trial percepts and applying it to dream interpretation. As a result, I have come to regard the successive evocations of imagery in the dream and even their reciprocal adaptations under the influence of creative fancy, as being trial apperceptions or attempted responses to one or more cues, either sensory or psychic.

RESOLUTION OF THE UNADJUSTED

The operation of any cue, waking or sleeping, implies the endeavor of the organism to provide a channel of escapement for the nervous excitation emanating from the stimulus. The best channels, of course, are furnished by those neurograms, or vestiges of previous experience, originally constellated with the stimulus-idea. Indeed, as in the Scratch-Reflex dream, we find that the stimulus does immediately tend to pass into such channels. But the same example shows that it takes time for the excitation to raise into consciousness the image most closely related to, or agglutinated with, the stimulus; this being, no doubt, due to the passive inertia in the corresponding neurogram. Meantime, during

the apperceptive delay, the energy spills over into less appropriate neurograms, albeit they are more quickly mobilized, with the result of evoking bizarre imagery; what I have called trial apperceptions.[36] Sometimes, too, this is adequate to meet the situation; for the resolution of the unadjusted is complete so soon as the stimulus is drained off, re-distributed and dynamically absorbed, as in the case of mechanical "lost motion." A useful and intelligent solution is by no means requisite: mere rambling often suffices.

Yet in sleep the process of trial-and-error may often result in highly constructive resolutions, as in what the French call rêve utile. This is especially true in case the unadjusted cues are highly persistent psychic stimuli. Here, the excitation rises instead of seeming to wear down and can be followed in its working up, through trial-and-error, to the elaboration of a more or less logical response to the demands of the mental situation;—after which, the excitation appears to trouble the sleeper no further. Unfortunately, time does not permit my giving the examples I would like of the varieties of resolutions in dreams—with their every degree of relevancy and irrelevancy, of à propos and bizarrerie. Instead, I will briefly dwell on a suggestive example of mental adjustment to specific cues, in the waking state.

A Japanese poetess is asked to combine into one word-picture the ideas of a triangle, of a square and of a circle. After a short pause, taken up (as we may believe) by what Ernst Mach calls the conflict of ideas, and which I think of as imageless trials and errors, the poetess evolves the following phantasy: "Detaching one corner of the mosquito netting, lo, I behold the moon." This resolution left nothing to be desired.

All resolutions of problems, of riddles, of charades, and, according to my experience, most dreams if not all, represent a trial-and-error method of working out a reconciliation among unadjusted mental tendencies, the goal of which is illustrated by the case of the Japanese poetess. Dreams, however, usually exhibit only the preliminary efforts. Those are hidden in this example, which stands midway between

the severe reasoning of Euclid and the free-play of a dreamer's response to the reproductive tendencies playing upon his memory.

As to the theory of the resolution of the unadjusted, I must resist the temptation to dwell on its many attractive phases, in bringing this discussion to a close. One of its neglected aspects, however, may be indicated within the present context, by remarking upon the feeling of incompleteness that would at this stage, be left in the mind of the hearer, if I should make an end, abruptly, like a phonograph stopped in the middle of a tune. My discourse would inevitably be left at loose ends, owing to the persistency of a number of questions which have been raised, agitated, but not fully set at rest. These would continue to act as so many persisting and unadjusted stimulus-ideas. These are embodied in the feeling we now have, that a summary should be made of what has gone before concerning the Scratch-Reflex dream and the various methods of interpreting it. Thus, our "unfinished feeling" represents in itself an obscure demand for a resolution of the unadjusted; it corresponds to that inner compulsion which operates upon the imperfect consciousness of the dreamer, or upon the mentality of any person seeking the solution of a problem or "perplex," either asleep, or awake—as I trust you all still remain. The present demand for the resolution of the unadjusted must be met without going deeper into the theory of the matter.[37]

THE RECONSTITUTION SUMMARIZED

Accordingly, I will now point out the fact that the analysis of the Scratch-Reflex dream has been carried to the stage where the dream stands reconstituted as follows:—

It is an attempt of the nervous mechanism to resolve a specific sensory stimulus-idea (A) by the discharge of nervous energy into a previously prepared or "facilitated" set-of-the-mind or context (Hidden Z). This, in the premises, happened to possess associative affinity for the stimulus, and was therefore, by the same token, chosen, i. e., brought into play, as a spillway for the stimulus. The

secondary images (C) in the dream, evoked by the derivation of excitement through the channels of the given context (conversation with Dr. X.) are explained as forming—in the order of their appearance—a chain of apperceptive pictures, or trial-and-error series, whose links or steps approximate gradually to the characteristic features of the primary stimulus-idea (scratching sensation). But while regarding this immediate influence as the principal cue to memory (calling it A), we must admit an ulterior influence or motive-power, itself in the nature of an accessory cue, namely a wish (B), revived along with the memory of the conversation. This wish (to substitute reflexology for histology) contributes a special configuration or phantastic, wishful arrangement to the group of successive trial apperceptions called forth by the physical stimulus (A). The corresponding motives of desire and of aversion, (concisely pictured as positive interest in the reflex and disinterest in the microscope), although seeming to spring out of the system of memories (Z), which form the context, are none the less separate from it as self-acting sources of stimulus, as a wish apart from the mere brute memory of the talk about reflexes. The wish is thus an accessory cue (B) operating in conjunction with the external stimulus, although revived by the energy of the latter. In this case, the imaginary wish-fulfilment achieves an immediate, though limited, success. Correspondingly, it does not exhibit on its own account the feature of trial-and-error which we have learnt to recognize in the working of the unadjusted sensory stimulus (scratching).

While this dream does not exemplify trial-and-error processes in response to a psychic cue, it is proper to state that the same mechanism can be demonstrated in the more purely psychic dreams, as well as in this one, wherein we have followed the trial apperceptions of a stimulus, from their incipience, to the point of awaking to a conscious recognition of the source of excitation. Moreover, by a more delicate and intricate use of the reconstitutive method it is possible to discover the stimulus-ideas in those cases where the dreamer is not able to testify to their character, as I was in this simple instance; purposely chosen, I may add, to outline the method in its simplest aspect.

According to the reconstitutive method, a dream is sufficiently interpreted and explained by having formulated the operation of the several specific factors, as in the foregoing example; that is, no preconceptions as to content or meaning or transcendental symbols are imported into this sort of purely mechanistic interpretation.

THE PSYCHO-ANALYTIC DILEMMA

Unfortunately, the psycho-analyst, if he applies the current conceptions of symbolism, may well doubt whether the reconstitution has gone far enough, and whether all the stimulus-ideas, or all the wish-factors have been found. This is because he does not make it a rule to check up his guesses as to meaning, by specific investigations of the settings-of-ideas, by auscultating the so-called "fringe of thought," or by laying out crucial tests for his own hypothesis in the given case. Such methods, which belong no less to general psychopathology than to the reconstitutive method, do not leave one free to argue from analogy; a privilege which most psycho-analysts enjoy, and have been known to abuse, as Freud and Jung themselves have done.

It follows that one might properly expect the psychoanalyst to dwell especially upon the seemingly phallic "symbols" in the Scratch-Reflex dream, which could be made out in the geometrical features of the microscope and cover-glass. He would thus, as I have shown, be led to unearth a sexual motive—which might be a mare's nest. This searching for sexual symbolism on a purely a priori basis, when no evidence internal or external, and no real clues to a sex idea exist, may become a mere obsession, a habit of interpretation which is not scientific at all. Unable to distinguish the subconscious operation of a non-sexual context, from that of the more familiar sexual context, the interpreter is at the mercy of superficial resemblances between the properties of the dream-objects and those of the well-known sexual symbols. The ambiguity which has resulted from this condition of affairs, maintains the Psychoanalytic Dilemma: that of not knowing when to stop in apperceiving sexual allusions. Indeed, it is part of the

interpretative policy of psycho-analysts not to exclude sexual meanings, in case of doubt; but rather to take the sexual sense for granted.

How far this policy has been carried may perhaps be suggested by the following instance: A well-known physiological psychologist, attempting to show the absurdity of extreme sexual interpretations, remarked to a well-known psycho-analyst that even the geometry of Euclid would, according to the methods under criticism, be open to the imputation of sexual motive. To this the psycho-analyst replied that he did not feel at all sure that Euclid might not have been inspired to write his Geometry by the sexual ideas which men have, from time immemorial, embodied in circles and triangles and diameters.—This instance, be it said, implies no criticism of Psycho-analysis beyond the fact that its conception of symbols in dreams and elsewhere is transcendental and historical rather than truly psychological as it purports to be; a state of opinion which the use of the reconstitutive method is calculated to correct.

The difference between the psycho-analytic methods and the reconstitutive method, in a given case, is that the former assume the validity of sexual symbolism unless it can positively be proved absent, which is rarely attempted; whereas, the reconstitutive method assumes no symbolism and no meaning to be present in the mind of the dreamer except as the probability can be demonstrated by specific investigations and inferences as to the interplay of cuesand contexts or apperception-masses. Moreover, a special technique is used to study the "fringe."[1]

Reverting for a moment to the sexual interpretations of the Scratch-Reflex dream that I manufactured by applying the Freudian ready-made symbolism, and, again, by imitating the constructive fancy of Jung; they must both be judged as having no merit beyond, perhaps, that of coinciding with inherent probabilities in the premises. That is, what they purport to reveal might be made out of whole cloth to fit almost any unmarried man, barring a few individual adaptations, to suit the known circumstances of the dreamer. As these interpretations stand, they do not fit the psychogenesis of the dream. They are rank confabulations

on my part; yet they appear to hold water, psychoanalytically.

Enough has been said to suggest, I think, that while Dr. Freud may be honored as the father of dream analysis, with Dr. Jung as its foster-father, yet, to neither of these gentlemen of psycho-analytic fame should be conceded the right to bring up the "child!" That is a task for the psychologist, because he can afford to go deeper into normal processes than has so far been possible in psycho-analytic practice. But he must take pains to employ those scientific methods which comport the rigorous application of logic even to the vagaries of dreams, and the rejection of the argument from mere authority. Of such methods, the exemplars are to be found only among those writers who today are worthily carrying forward the mechanistic traditions originated by Descartes. In so far as psycho-analysts depart from these traditions and, relying on the authority of their leaders, follow them into metaphysical speculations about the Libido, and transcendental notions of symbolism, they are wandering on ground full of pitfalls to common sense.

SUMMARY

The question here considered is whether dream interpretations shall represent the state of the dreamer's mind or the mere fancy of the interpreter. Criticism is directed at the aprioristic and oftentimes hit-or-miss practices of the Vienna and Zurich schools of Psycho-analysis.

For illustration, a simple dream is interpreted by the current methods of Psycho-analysis: first, according to the "reductive method" of Freud, it is made out as symbolizing an infantile and sexual wish-fulfilment, expressing a "voyeur" component of the Libido. Secondly, the dream is re-interpreted by Jung's "constructive method" so as to gloss over the gross Freudian phallicism. It is now made to mean that the dreamer is impelled to higher biological duties, namely marriage and professional success.

The plausibility of these interpretations once shown, they are next proved to be wide of the mark, by the fact that the dream can be more adequately accounted for in another way, i. e., by a proposed "reconstitutive method." This method aims to "reconstitute" the dream-thought (both imaged and imageless) by tracing the wave of nervous excitation from its origin in primary stimulus-ideas (sensory or psychic) through a specific apperception-mass into a consequently derived system of secondary images, which form the manifest dream content. The derivation of the secondary images must be concretely followed through the authenticated channels of association—not assumed on the basis of "fixed symbolism," or any other a priori conception.

The reconstitution of this particular dream illustrates the reductio ad absurdum of the two previous psycho-analytic "solutions." The fact that either of them would apparently have satisfied the demands of the problem, is characterized as an artifact evolved through the interpreter's deliberate confabulation and forcing of analogy; thus causing the scant data of the dream to fall into artificial agreement with the preconceived notions of the Vienna and Zurich schools, respectively. As a guarantee of scientific accuracy, it is urged that the interpreter trace the process of imageless thought (Woodworth) back of the dream, and, in particular, seek the meaning in the Unconscious Settings-of-Ideas (Prince). The reconstitutive method is the extension of these two formulations from normal and abnormal psychology into the field of dream analysis, through the study of Individual Differences (Cattell) and the Application of Logic (Alfred Sidgwick).

It is not denied that Freud's dream theories serve very well to interpret a considerable proportion of common dreams; but the psycho-analytic technique embodies a fallacious assumption that there is a transcendental symbolizing activity in the Unconscious, as it were a language of dreams. This gives rise to a biased "will to interpret." The alleged meaning may thus often be the work of the interpreter's mind although not that in the dreamer's mind.

The reconstitutive method brings into relief the trial-and-error character of the dreaming process: the organism

as attempting the physiological resolution of persisting and unadjusted stimulus-ideas. Psychologically speaking, the images evoked in the dream are called trial percepts or trial apperceptions of the stimulus-ideas, corresponding more or less closely to the latter; not through analogy necessarily, but through mere contiguity, as the case may be.

In certain cases, the erroneous apperceptions are observed to form a series of approximations to the correct apprehension of one of the stimulus-ideas at a time. In other cases, the apperceptive errors may take the form of a blended reaction to two or more cues, more or less perfectly achieved.

These mechanisms, when they go wrong, as they often do, produce the incoherency and bizarrerie of the dream; but they do not preclude a significant reconstitution of the process of which the dream is a by-product. Such reconstitutions require to be validated by specific tests and inferences, of such logical character as to bear comparison with the methodology of other sciences. The psychoanalytic arguments from analogy, from precedent and from authority are alike to be rejected.

REFERENCES AND NOTES